Emily Potter - Book 1 - The Sorcerer's Stone

Chapter 8: Holidays

"You left me with Pansy! What in the name of Merlin did I do to deserve something as horrid as that? Have you any idea how long I had to pretend to care about whatever it was she droned on about for an entire afternoon?" Draco asked rather furiously, begrudgingly taking the seat next to Emily.

"I don't know, have you tried sitting through a double period of History of Magic?" She countered in the most laidback manner she could muster in order to further frustrate him.

Draco shot her a glare, snarling at the girl, "Just so you know I'm going to get back at you," He stated somewhat smugly. "Thanks for the warning." Emily exclaimed in a sarcastic tone as she tossed a raisin at his nose. "Hey! You're wasting it!" Goyle said angrily, rising from his seat to catch the fallen raisin – he then promptly popped it in his mouth.

Her move from one house to another was easy enough since Slytherin accepted her with open arms, Emily found herself to be fitting in quite nicely as a serpent compared to her brief time as a lion, but she tried not to say it aloud due to the fact that it would only prove that the sorting hat was right all along. One of the few things, or rather people, that made the change so uneasy was Crabbe and Goyle. They perfectly embodied what a Gryffindor thinks a Slytherin is: selfish, repulsive, daft, and borderline horrible.

"Good Merlin..." Emily muttered under her breath, gathering her books.

"You'll get used to it." Draco said reassuringly in a whisper, but his comment only soured her mood even more. I don't want to get used to it; they need to grow up.

Emily scoffed. "I'm going to class now. See you around." She said quickly while gathering her things before departing for the classrooms alone. Ever since the trip to Hogsmeade, Emily found herself wanting more time by her lonesome. Perhaps it was the uncertainty that came along with forming friendships that made her stomach grow queasy. The idea of bearing your all and being vulnerable to someone only sent warning sirens to go off in her head.

It seemed silly to her to be cautious of making friends, even more so when her entire childhood was barren of such connections. But then again, that was the same reason for her to be anxious about becoming close to someone. Emily only had herself and Professor McGonagall to trust

Will it ever get better for me?

~

"Good mo-morning stu-students, pl...please turn you-your b...books to page to-two hundred a-and fo...forty-five." Their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor told his students, his stutter seeming to worsen and grow more inaudible as their meetings continued.

A girl from Hufflepuff named Hannah Abbot shyly tapped Emily's shoulder and stared at her with great caution all the while she spoke to her, "Hi, I don't mean to interrupt, but you don't seem well, are you feeling ill?"

Through the skull-splitting pain that she bore, Emily forced herself to smile in appreciation for Hannah's genuine concern. "I'm... grand. I just have a little headache is all." She lied, wanting to not attract any attention and also kind of hoping that the pain would subside on its own. If Emily had told the girl about the smoldering agony that traveled from her neck to her head, she would have no idea how to word it out without sounding like a bumbling moron.

She started hearing voices, strange hissing sounds like a serpent mixed together with the guttural voice of a man. The voices seemed to call out to Emily; it seemed to have paralyzed her stiff on her seat. Hannah gave out a high-pitched shriek when she witnessed the young Slytherin's body hit the stone floor of the classroom.

Her fellow housemates rushed towards her and struggled to wake her up, Professor Quirrell panicked at the sight of his student fainting and proceeded to yell down the corridor for help. It wasn't long till two seventh year Slytherins levitated a stretcher and brought her to the hospital wing for Madam Pomfrey to examine.