Unofficial Portkey Archive

A/N: Thank you to everyone for those lovely reviews of chapter 16. I really appreciate it very, very much! And I promise that it won't be very long before Harry and Hermione find out, I promise! Stay with me, y'all - and expect the angst meter to inch deep into the red, before that moment arrives. There will be, of course, bouts of humor and/or.. ahem.. heat, while y'all wait :)

The title of this chapter (as well as the lyrics at the end) are from the song "Underneath" by the band, Hanson (and yes, they're the reason for my author name, if anyone wonders.)

And, as always, many, many thanks to Liss for the wonderful beta. Your help and suggestions are invaluable. Thank you kindly.

Chapter Seventeen - Underneath

Dear Merry,

Hey! How're you doing? I hope this finds you well. Did you have a good Christmas? Mine went well; it was great being home again and I won't deny that I got some very nice presents! And Happy New Year, of course.

How's Blake? I swear, he's one of the cutest babies I've ever seen and he was so sweet too! He must be so big now, right? Give him a kiss and a cuddle for me and say hi to Dave as well. Oh, and Lyna says hello! We had so much fun with you guys in Dallas. Hopefully one day, we can visit again. Maybe I'll get another piercing. Haha, just kidding! Or maybe you and Dave and Blake could come visit us here.

I'm back at school now, and I'm sure you know how that is. Makes me wonder, did you and Julia ever have any enemies at school? If so, how did you deal with them? I don't think me and this particular classmate will ever be friends. Did Julia ever know anybody like that, that she never became friends with, even after becoming adults? Honestly, some people. The concept of even having occasional civilized conversations with them is just unfathomable.

Gotta go. I'm writing this in History of Magic and I'm supposed to be taking notes... booorrrinng. Hope to hear from you soon!

Love,
Emerson

Smiley,

Hope you don't mind my calling you that, especially since I don't even know your name. Seeing as how you never bothered to share that basic piece of information. But then again, you never use my name in your letters.

I've read every single thing you sent me, even when I didn't want to, and I haven't told anyone about the letters. In other words, I've been good. Since you're supposed to be my "teacher", doesn't that count for something? Don't I get credit or a sticker or something?

I would like to know who you are. Why are you writing to me? If you knew Julia, you must have known about me from the very beginning. Why did you choose to start writing to me now? Have I done something to you that I'm not aware of? Your letters haven't exactly been nice to me, and it's very unfair that I don't even know who seems to hate me so much and what I did to make you hate me in the first place.

I don't think this is asking too much. I promise I won't tell anyone your name. I'm sorry for whatever it was that I did to upset you, which is a very wide statement, isn't it? Cause I don't even know you! Or do I?

I hope you'll answer my request. Thank you.

Emerson Potter

******

"I hope this works," Emerson said worriedly to Lyna, as they watched the small grey owl soar away.

It was their second day back at school and the girls were in the Owlery. The plan had popped into Emerson's head fully-formed at dinner last night. There hadn't been a letter from Smiley on the first day, contrary to her fears, but she knew it wouldn't be long before one would arrive.

After the ordeal that was Christmas, with fighting her parents' efforts to make her open up, Emerson was extremely angry at Smiley. And that wasn't even the fucker's real name, was it? She deserved to, at the very least, know who was writing to her. If she was going to go through all this shit, didn't she have that basic right?

But how to go about contacting the letter writer? Every single one of the owls always took off within a minute of dropping their post. With no return address nor - it went back to that issue! - a friggin' name to send a letter to, there seemed to be no way at all.

Strangely, it was Marc Weasley who gave her the idea.

The sixth year had been attempting to discreetly hex another of Marissa's potential suitors but had instead caught a wayward moth that had the misfortune of getting in the spell's line of fire. The results were intriguing, if not a little gross, to say the least, but Em had jumped up and grabbed Carolyna's hand to steer her somewhere private.

"What if I could Petrify the next owl that delivers a letter from Smiley?" Em had blurted as soon as they were alone.

Lyna gaped at her as if she'd spoken gibberish. "Um.. what?"

"The owl, Lyna! What if I could Petrify the owl? If I then tied a letter to the owl, wouldn't it go back to the person who sent it?"

Her friend frowned. "I don't know. Couldn't that hurt the owl?"

"Frankly, I'm not really concerned about that right now," Emerson said, somewhat irritably. "I need to get a letter back to this person, Lyna. I have to know who this is."

Carolyna looked at her with that expression that Em knew signaled another spinning of the record entitled: "No, Baby, You Got to Tell an Adult!"

"Don't say it, Carolyna, please," Em said pleadingly, before her friend could open her mouth. "I can't deal with it right now, okay? Just tell me, do you think it would work?"

She watched her friend walk over to the window ledge and perch on the edge. For a minute, Em thought Lyna wasn't going to say anything at all but then she nodded. "It could. But wouldn't everyone want to know what you're doing, Petrifying an owl at the breakfast table?"

Relief washed over Em as she hurried over to stand in front of the other girl. "Yeah, they would. But I figured, I would skip breakfast and the owl will have to come find me wherever I happen to be. I was thinking the Owlery, cause then it wouldn't be suspicious for an owl to be entering there. Will you help me?"

"Of course I will, Em. How can you even ask?" her friend said softly and Emerson smiled at her.

They put the plan into action immediately after dinner. Emerson wrote the letter and put it in her bag. The next day at breakfast time, she and Lyna parted ways; Em went to the Owlery to wait for Smiley's letter and Lyna went to the Great Hall to grab some toast and fruit.

Waiting in the Owlery, at first Emerson had felt mildly exhilarated. At last, she was doing something! Instead of just sitting back and taking it, she was being proactive. She was trying to get to the bottom of this painful mess, the first step of which involved finding out this person's identity.

She'd already tried another tack in that quest, with her letter to Merry. Since Smiley went on and on so negatively about Julia, Em figured that they'd known each other at school. And if Smiley had known Julia, she had to have known Merry too. So maybe Merry would know. Of course she couldn't just come out and ask Merry if there was anybody at school with them who could possibly have hated Julia enough to be so mean to Julia's daughter, who hadn't ever done anything to him/her.

But after almost fifteen minutes of sitting on the floor beside one of the open windows, watching various owls come and go, she'd begun to worry about her plan. She'd cleared the ground of owl droppings and animal bones before she sat, and had made sure to sit out of the line of fire of any fresh deposits, but how long could she stay there? What if she missed the owl when trying to cast the spell? What if an owl didn't come at all?

The sack of despair which weighed worlds was beginning to overwhelm her already bruised and battered psyche when her best friend arrived, and Em had honestly never been so glad to see her before. They sat in tense silence for another ten minutes before another rush of wings made them look up.

"There's another one coming in," Lyna had said, peering at the bird that was coming steadily closer from the other side of the room. "And- does it- yes! It has a letter tied to its leg!" She turned around to look back at Em. "Get ready."

Emerson nodded, wiping her suddenly sweaty hands on her robes and gripping her wand tighter. The owl, a small grey one, swooped over the overhanging beam in a rush, Emerson raised her wand, pointed it and shouted, "Petrificus Totalus!"

The bird froze in mid-flight and began to fall, but Lyna caught it before it could hit the ground. The two girls crowded around it, Emerson's heart pounding from both nerves and the thrill of success. With trembling hands, she untied the letter from the owl's leg and opened it to check that it really was from the mysterious letter writer.

It was and she heaved a sigh of relief. "Keep holding him, Lyna, just in case the charm wears off or something," she said hurriedly, as she fumbled inside her bag for the letter she'd written.

She tied her letter to the bird's leg, trying to ignore the way the big, shocked eyes regarded her; as if she was violating it or something. But then again, owls always have big, shocked eyes, she told herself.

After tucking a Sickle into the bird's purse, she looked it straight in its huge eyes and said, "Take this letter back to the person who sent you. And sorry about this, okay?" She quickly removed the Petrificus Charm, the bird sprang to life with an indigant squawk, gave them both a cuff with its wings and hightailed it out of the Owlery.

Em sighed. "I hope this works," she repeated, and her friend smiled sympathetically and draped a hand over her shoulder.

"I'm sure it will, don't worry. C'mon, though, let's get out of here. I don't fancy eating breakfast with owl poop all over the place," Lyna said softly, and Emerson allowed herself to be led from the room, silently praying that her plan would work. For the better, because she was tired. She was so tired of fighting. Tired of her sadness, of her emotions. She was so tired of being tired.

And she wanted to be free. Again.

"Eat up," Lyna urged her, shoving a piece of buttered toast into Em's hand. "We only have fifteen minutes till class, and remember we have to climb a ridiculous number of stairs to get there."

Emerson took a bite of her toast and tried not to think about the grey owl winging its way to the evil bastard (or was it bitch?) who was harassing her. What kind of satisfaction could this person possibly be getting out of this, anyway? How could someone have such an empty existence that they felt the need to torment a twelve year old girl? Really, the nerve of some people!

"-but then we went to the town of Bremen," Lyna was saying in an overly-cheerful voice. Em knew her friend was trying to distract her from her morose thoughts. "Remember the story? The one with the animals who made music to scare off robbers?"

"Yeah," Em answered.

Lyna smiled. "They have this statue up of the animals, holding their instruments and everything. It was actually kind of creepy, to tell the truth."

"Why?"

Her friend didn't answer and after a few seconds, Em looked over at her. Lyna was frozen in the act of taking a bite out of a shiny green pear, her eyes wide. Following her gaze, Em saw what had so arrested her friend, and couldn't resist cracking a wide grin. Ravenclaw fourth year Davis Chapman was striding towards them, obviously on his way to class.

Em thought Davis looked rather bland, with his porcelain skin, pale eyebrows and eyelashes, ash blond hair. But he had incredibly dark eyes, made all the more startling because of his light features. So she could sort of see why her best friend thought he was cute.

The older boy drew abreast of them and Lyna gave a tiny squeak. It was clear to Em that her friend wouldn't be able to muster the nerve to speak to him, and she knew Lyna would kick herself for it later.

Coming quickly to a decision, she took matters into her own hands. "Hey. You're Davis Chapman, right?"

Davis looked surprised, his eyes landing first on Emerson then sliding over to Carolyna. And lingering. "Yeah, I am. You're Anna Lupin's sister, aren't you?" he said, addressing the stupefied brunette.

Lyna nodded mutely and blushed crimson, the pear clutched tightly in her hand.

Emerson suppressed a surprised snicker at Davis's complete dismissal of her, so captivated by Carolyna was he!

"Cool," he said, looking at Lyna and they probably would've continued staring at each other indefinitely, if Em hadn't cleared her throat.

"Erm.. we have.. y'know.. class?"

Davis seemed to come to himself with a jerk, and he looked at Em as if only just realizing that she was there. "Oh, yeah. Well, I guess I'll see you around, Carolyna. Emerson."

He turned and half-walked, half-jogged away and with a smirk, Em watched her friend watch his retreating back.

"Damn, girl! You have it bad!" she said with a laugh.

Lyna groaned. "Oh, kill me now, Em, please!"

"What on earth for?"

"I couldn't even say one word to him! He must think I'm a complete retard!"

Em laughed and threw a hand over her shoulder. "Are you kidding me? Words weren't needed, Lyna! Your eyes were doing the talking. And from the way he was staring, I do believe he got the message loud and clear, and didn't mind what he heard either."

Her friend looked at her, her face a mixture of embarrassment and hope. "You think so?"

"Of course I think so, Carolyna Lupin! The bloke didn't even notice I was there. If he doesn't like you back, I'll kiss Moaning Myrtle and you know I can't stand her. Always crooning on about how I could've been her and Dad's love child. And it's not funny!"

Her best friend's slightly giddy laughter propelled Emerson all the way to the Transfiguration classroom. And for a while, for a brief, blessed while, she forgot the sack that weighed worlds which she carried woefully upon her young shoulders.

******

Cristella could not believe her eyes when, upon hearing a tap, tap on her window, she looked up to see the small grey owl that she'd sent that morning hovering outside the glass. Glancing around to make sure that she was alone, she grabbed her wand and locked and soundproofed her office. Her boss wasn't in yet, and none of the young interns would dare barge into the room without her verbal consent.

Letting the owl in, she untied the letter from its leg and the bird rapidly took off, as if afraid that it would be forced into service again if it lingered.

But the woman didn't notice. Her blue eyes were glued to the piece of parchment that she held in her hand, and as she read the words written in the fat, looping cursive of Emerson Potter, she had to sit down. She had to sit down because if she remained standing, surely the vast tidal surge of emotion that consumed her would have knocked her swiftly to the floor.

She laid the letter on her desk and gaped, open-mouthed. For the first few seconds, surprise, fear, shock and disbelief warred for dominance inside her head, but in the end, the victor wasn't any of them. In the end, the emotion which consumed her was rage.

Pure, undulated rage.

How dare- that little brat- that- Cristella's hands shook in her fury. Never had she imagined that Emerson Potter would find a way to contact her! She had deliberately done things this way, never sharing her name; instructing the owls to leave immediately after their deliveries. This closed system of logic allowed no input or criticism from her target, no defense, hence ensuring the development of feelings of powerlessness, fear and dependency.

And now this-

Infuriated, the woman grabbed the large crystal paperweight on her desk and flung it with all her might. It collided with the framed picture of London's skyline that hung on the opposite wall, and the sound of glass connecting fatally with glass yanked her back to her senses.

No, she couldn't lose it like this. Not now. She'd come too far. "Get a hold of yourself, Cristella. Calm down."

She leaned back and closed her eyes, taking deep, cleansing breaths, willing the blood to stop its frantic pounding in her ears, the sweat to evaporate from her brow. Slowly, her manic attack subsided and her hands stopped shaking.

She opened her eyes again and picked up the parchment. Forcing herself to continue breathing deeply, she reread the short missive, noting the wording, the slight belligerence of the young girl with such nerve.

Oh, she had known it! She'd known it all along that Emerson Potter was exactly like the woman who had given her birth. That same haughtiness, that same superiority that shone through any medium-

I would like to know who you are.

"As if just because she would like that, I'm just going to scramble to satisfy her, to indulge her, to cater to her," Cristella muttered darkly, her features twisted into a murderous scowl. Her eyes scanned the parchment, rereading certain lines repeatedly. "I haven't told anyone... I won't tell anyone your name. Really? Anyone?"

If someone had been present to witness it, they would've been chilled to the marrow by how swiftly the look of murder on the woman's face morphed into a sickening smile. Because she'd just realized something. That pompous little girl had just given her a reason to use something hard-earned that she'd been sitting on. She hadn't intended to use it yet, had been saving it as some kind of future pièce de résistance.

But the time seemed to be ripe for it. The girl clearly wasn't learning her lesson. So, time for harsher measures. Time for the brutal, unvarnished truth.

Beginning tomorrow.

******

To Emerson's surprise, Merry's response came the very next day. It was a very pleasant letter, full of news about Merry's infant son, Blake, but completely devoid of anything useful towards Em's quest. Merry had simply said not to worry herself with such things, or with people who made one feel down.

'Fat lot of help that was,' Em thought dejectedly, folding the letter. Although she couldn't help but smile as she gazed at the image of the chubby, blond baby that laughed and kicked in the picture Merry had sent.

She was feeling tense and anxious because this was her third day back at school, which definitely meant it was a Bashing Day. Smiley would surely have gotten her letter by now. Would the letter writer grant her request? Would she finally find out the identity of her tormentor? She couldn't help hoping, even as she told herself not to do that very thing.

Emerson could barely eat her breakfast, so big was the lump of dread in her throat as she awaited the inevitable owl. Perhaps it was her imagination, but it seemed that almost all her Weasley "cousins" were watching her more or less intently, and she tried hard not to seem abnormal in any way. She didn't think she could deal with another interrogation right now.

Breakfast passed without any owl arriving, but that didn't put Em at ease at all. In fact, it made her even more apprehensive, because didn't that mean Smiley was being extra careful with what he or she sent? Em tried her hardest to get through her day, even as she kept straining her ears for the sound of wings headed her way.

It wasn't until classes had ended and she was in her room changing out of her school robes that she noticed the bird hovering at her window. Her heart suddenly went into overdrive and her hands shook madly as she opened the latch to let the owl in. She unfastened the envelope, which felt thicker than usual, and the bird sped away so fast, it was almost a blur.

"You have been warned, eh?" Emerson murmured sardonically, watching the speck disappear behind the tree line of the Forbidden Forest.

With a sigh, she climbed onto her bed and closed the hangings. Carolyna had gone to a meeting of her Gobstones club immediately after their last class and likely wouldn't be back for another hour, at least.

'If I were on the Quidditch team, I'd likely be in practice right now,' Em thought sadly, as she stared at the as yet unopened envelope. She tried to see how long she could go without opening it and found that she couldn't even last five minutes before she was tearing the seal.

Pathetic. It's as if I'm addicted to this shit. Like Olivia and her fags.

The thought upset her so much that angry tears rolled down her cheeks before she had even unfolded the letter. She wiped them away but as she began to read, they began coming faster and furiously.

Kiddo,

You will be hearing from me sooner than you think. Oh, and I saw your brothers at school the other day. "Budget" is very cute, isn't he? It would be very sad if that had to change.

"Oh my God, oh my God," Emerson sobbed repeatedly, curling into a ball on her bed, clutching her stomach.

She was numb, she was in pain, she was weightless, suffocating, drowning, all at the same time, weighed down by the sack. Which had swelled beyond the weight of worlds, fast approaching the weight of universes, galaxies, infinity.

Smiley knew. Smiley knew about Lyna. Smiley knew about Budget. Only closest family and friends knew the nickname and called him that. How had Smiley found out? How had this monster gotten so close to her family?

'You know how,' a cold voice hissed inside her head. 'It's because of you.'

No! It- I won't think it!

Blindly trying to distract herself, Emerson fumbled with the other document that had been enclosed by the letter writer. In her distress, she tore a long corner of the paper but not before she saw that it appeared to be some sort of medical chart.

The horror swelled within her as she took in the barely legible words that Julia's doctor had scrawled. About how his patient was being supremely difficult, "letting her emotions rule her head with ideas that are neither practical nor feasible". About how his patient was ignoring his instructions, convinced that the life she carried within her deserved to live. "Patient doesn't seem to realize that the life she carries doesn't have much of a chance if she herself loses her life. Which seems more and more the likely outcome."

Emerson was crying harder than she ever had before, but her eyes refused to leave the paper, refused to stop the influx of horrific information that was so bluntly scribbled on the parchment before her. She could do nothing but keep reading, to the very end.

"Patient delivered a surprisingly healthy infant, but the battle is almost surely lost for the patient herself. We waited too long. Patient would've had a dramatically better chance if she had followed my first suggestion: abortion."

"Time of Death: 22:38. 09/28/06. File Closed."

Abruptly, her tears stopped and she just lay there, numbly. She couldn't move, couldn't blink, couldn't do anything but breathe, exist. Unlike the woman who was lost forever, because her ideas had been neither practical nor feasible.

I am neither practical nor feasible.

With that thought, her tears resumed, geyser-like, but she didn't bother trying to staunch them. She didn't even bother to blow her nose, choosing instead to sniffle fruitlessly and miserably. She didn't want to move ever again.

How long she lay like that, she didn't know. It might've been hours, it might've been months. The room darkened around her and only when the door of her room opened did she so much as twitch. She listened as someone entered and paused by her bed, and the sobs welled up within her again and threatened to overwhelm.

Carolyna. Her wonderful, loyal friend; whom Smiley now appeared to have set sights on.

"Emerson?"

Em squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself for what she had to do, what she needed to do.

Her hangings were pulled apart. "Emerson? What's happened now? What's wrong, Em?"

How could she not know what was wrong? How could she ask what was wrong? Something snapped inside Emerson and she was suddenly furious. She looked up and glared at her friend, her best friend since they were five years old. "What's wrong, Carolyna, is that you are getting on my fucking nerves. So why don't you just buzz off and leave me alone?!"

A shocked and profoundly hurt look settled on Lyna's face and Emerson turned away, unable to bear it, feeling the misery already swirling within her now being intermingled with deep disgust at herself. But wasn't this the only way to keep her safe? She had to do this. She must.

"I know what you're doing, Emerson. You're trying to push me away because you're starting to believe the lies in those letters, aren't you?" Lyna's voice was strained and Em heard her sniffle. Her own tears started up again; apparently, her well of salt water hadn't yet run dry.

"You can shut everyone else out, but not me. I won't let you. You're my best friend, Emerson, and if I don't stand beside you, who will? Who will hold your hand? And I won't leave you alone because I can be as stubborn as you are, Em. So you can either accept it or be even more miserable. Your choice. Cause I'm not going anywhere."

A flood of relief swept through Emerson's whole being as she spun around. "Oh, Lyna!" she cried as she threw her arms around her friend. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean that! I'm sorry, Lyna!"

"I know you didn't," Lyna choked, and she seemed to be crying as hard as Em was.

"Oh God, I can't do this anymore," Emerson sobbed. "But I have to!"

Her friend pulled away, her cheeks tear-stained. "What are you talking about? We've waited too long, Em! We have to, right now, go to-"

"NO!" Em shrieked, hysterically. "Smiley knows, Lyna! Smiley knows about Budget!"

"Budget? What about him?"

Emerson wiped her nose on her sleeve, trying to calm herself down, to make her friend understand. Her voice cracked with the intensity of her misery. "Only our families and friends know Luke's nickname, right? We're the only ones who call him 'Budget'. But in her letter, Smiley called him "Budget". Can't you see? I c-can't tell anyone! She would hurt him! And it would be m-my fault!"

"Oh, Merlin," Lyna sobbed. "This is too much, Emerson. This is b-bigger than us now. If you d-don't do it, I w-will, I swear to God!"

"Please, Lyna. Just give me two days, please? Please don't tell anyone. Two days?" Em pleaded desperately, tears streaming down her cheeks. She grasped her best friend's hands. "Promise me. Promise me, Lyna, that you won't tell anyone yet. Just give me two days to figure something out. Please."

It seemed to take forever but finally, Carolyna nodded. "Two days. And that's it."

The two girls hugged each other and cried some more, neither of them wanting to leave the other, not even to go down to dinner. They only parted when it was time for bed and Emerson lay under her covers, terrified and overwhelmed by the horrendous shadow that loomed over her.

Two days.

*******

Is there resolution for this pain that I'm in?
Sitting all alone in this place
Even though we're here face to face
There is nothing gone but there's something wrong

Can't you see that I'm stuck here
Underneath