"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.
One of the older students carrying one end of the stretcher huffed as they guided the floating stretcher up towards the moving staircases. "Why is it we're always there when Potter drops?"
~
"Emily, we studied the information you gave us," Hermione said. "I don't think I helped all that much, to be honest, but that's still brilliant, you know who it is then?" Emily asked, furrowing her brow; secretly hoping in the deepest realm in her heart that they wouldn't speak of her hospitalization a few hours ago.
"It's Snape, Harry saw him in the Forbidden Forest," Ron revealed, looking quite pleased with their discovery.
"It's not Snape!" Emily countered against them, her eyes scanning all three of their expressions. "Then who?" the trio asked in unison. Emily looked over her shoulder, afraid of anyone else eavesdropping in on them, "It's Quirrell!" She said in an enraged whisper. "How can it be him?" Harry asked, "He can barely talk to a person without shaking like a leaf."
Emily laughed, raising her brows as if her brother had just pointed out exactly why it was Quirrell. "A DADA professor with a crippling stutter, don't you think that that's the perfect cover? Besides, your blame on Snape is based on speculation. I actually have proof that it's Quirrell." She was met with blank stares; Emily had expected them to piece it all together. "He's the one who got me in the Hospital wing earlier! I kept hearing odd voices during his class, and when I snooped into his mind, Voldemort was there." She told the trio, rubbing the contours of her neck, a small wince of pain emitting down her spine
"Do you think the potion bore some side effects?" Hermione asked.
I wish I hadn't drunk that potion in the first place. "Well, the headaches did amplify ever since you gave me the vial. Big load of good it did me," Emily muttered. "You don't even believe me – "
"Emily, calm do-"
She shook off Ron's hand that had reached to comfort her and abruptly broke down, "Don't tell me what to do! I heard what I heard in that classroom, and I don't care if you believe me or not. I'm saying this now, don't jump into any conclusions that Snape is behind this because he's not!" Emily said eyeing Hermione.
"Do what you will with the information I found. Go push your luck with sneaking past that three-headed dog – but if you lot even come back alive, expect me waiting at the other side of that trap door to say that I told you so."
~
Winter had proved to be a good look on Hogwarts with the handsomely decorated Christmas trees in the Great Hall, the air of the grand room refreshed with the scent of pine; banisters and classroom hallways were also decked in garlands of holly, shiny baubles, and vibrant poinsettias.
Emily never had a proper Christmas in the orphanage. She would only know that it was time to celebrate the holiday if there was the same, gaunt, bald plastic pine tree in the living room. Emily didn't know why the caretakers bothered to put out the sad excuse for a Christmas tree if they weren't going to decorate it or at the very least greet the kids a Happy Christmas.
She had only known what the holiday was supposed to be like when Minerva McGonagall had stepped into her life and whisked her away. Christmas in their cozy little cottage was quiet and peaceful, and due to the fact that her life was kept a secret from the public, it was only just the two of them to celebrate together. To Emily, that was more than enough. Severus did visit for a short while, but most of the time, it was only mother and child.
"I see Hermione left." Emily noticed the empty space next to Ron. She took the seat next to Harry while he and his best friend continued their battle on the Wizard's Chessboard.
"Yeah, about half an hour ago," Harry mindlessly told his sister, his focus primarily on the game that Ron was clearly going win. "Think Malfoy wants a word with you." Ron observed, glancing briefly at the Slytherin table then at Emily.
I'm not really sure if I'm ready to speak with him. Nonetheless, she pushed the glimmering stone on her finger and began to speak to communicate with Draco.
"What?" Emily was tired, and she thought her voice would reflect that, but it only came out as an angry hiss. "Can we talk face to face, I look like an idiot talking to my hand." Draco grumbled.
"Don't worry, even when you're not, you still look like a bumbling buffoon." Where is this negativity coming from? Emily didn't like how she was acting right now, and if it were easy, she would change that about herself. I can't help it. She didn't want to act so rude towards her best friend, though perhaps it was her own defense mechanism against the tender emotions she harbored.
Meanwhile, the sound of shattering porcelain called to her attention, she looked at the chessboard and saw one of the pieces from Ron's side absolutely pummel Harry's piece. "Smashing. Good job, Ronald." Emily congratulated, smiling at both boys as she said goodbye.
She hadn't spoken with Draco in a long while now, her emotions had fully incapacitated her from feeling anything positive; Emily wasn't sure how to approach him without feeling the need to literally bite his head off like a rabid dog.
"What do you want?" Emily snapped as soon as she sat down at the Slytherin table. "You. Left. Me. With. Pansy." Draco said word for word, clearly furious, "And you went to Hogsmeade with those blood traitors."
At once, she felt her nostrils flare in resentment. Draco's attitude towards the Weasleys did not help with how Emily felt, if anything, it made her add it to the list of throttling him. She was sure it was only a matter of time until she cracked. "Your point?" Emily asked with her fists underneath the table. He leaned closer to her, trying to be intimidating but it's hard to do that when you have plump cheeks and slicked-back hair, "If you're in Slytherin, act like one." Draco warned as if that was the end of the conversation.
Emily clucked her tongue and looked at him as if he were joking, "Ah, yes, of course, you expect me to conform to ridiculous house stereotypes. Am I supposed to go as insane as Salazar Slytherin once did?" Emily asked in a huff.
"Weren't you the one who blew up the sorting hat into smithereens?" Draco asked rhetorically. Emily snorted, rolling her eyes at him, "Dumbledore fixed the hat already. Let it go, Malfoy." She stood from the bench and prepared for her leave, "You know what, have a great time with Pansy on the holidays because I'm spending mine at Gryffindor tower with my brother." She told him, her eyes burning bright. "And as a courtesy, the next time you call any of the Weasleys blood traitors, I won't be as lenient. It'll do you some good to remember who you're talking to, Malfoy."
Draco watched as she walked away from him like he was the last person she wanted to be seen with, he didn't know what to feel from this encounter; Emily had no doubt been avoiding him. But he didn't mind, he was used to being alone.
He just didn't expect to be left in his lonesome by the first person he considered a friend.
~
"You're not thinking of doing anything stupid tonight, boys?" Emily asked, jumping out from behind Harry and Ron. The two, surprised by her sudden appearance, jumped forwards while clutching their chests. "Bloody hell! You ought to stop that." Ron scolded his breathing pattern hastening.
Harry composed himself, casting a peculiar look at his sister, "What makes you think we're doing anything tonight?"
Emily shrugged, smiling as if she already knew something, "Just be careful."
"Are you looking forward to spending Christmas at Gryffindor?" Ron queried, taking her mind off of her suspicions of them planning a rendezvous. "I really am, I'm actually about to pack a few things before settling in, is that alright?" She asked. "Unless you need anything from me?"
"No, go on – take your time," Ron said enthusiastically while Harry blatantly agreed with him, his mouth wired shut.
Boys are so odd. "Alright then, see you two in a bit." Emily went ahead and left Harry and Ron in the corridor, proceeding to make her way to Slytherin tower to pack her a few sets of clothes for her stay with her brother at his house.
Once she had passed through the porthole and made her way into the common room, Emily had seen Crabbe and Goyle stuffing their faces with Pumpkin pasties in the comfort of the common room sofa. "What're ya looking at, Potter?" Goyle sputtered, his face glazed with cinnamon frosting.
By the looks of it, trash. "Don't mind me, blokes. I'll be out of your hair in a minute or two." Emily let them know, now walking faster up the girls' dormitory. All the while she was going towards her own dorm, the sound of sobbing began to grow louder and louder with each step until finally, Emily saw Millicent sitting on the carpet of their dormitory, crying by the window.
Despite the door being partially open, Emily gave it a light tap with the knuckle of her index finger, not wanting to intrude on Millicent's moment. "Are you alright, mate?" She asked, Emily's voice going out as a hushed whisper. She slowly approached her and sat down in front of Millicent, only then noticing that the girl was holding a weathered photo of a black kitten.
"My cat at home, Calypso... She died this morning." Millicent explained between sobs, wiping the tears off her face which were replaced with new ones within seconds. Emily never knew what to do when it came to sorrow; she awkwardly bent over and hugged her. The Potter twin hadn't expected for her to hug back which truly caught her off-guard. "M-Mum wrote two weeks ago how Caly fell ill, she just had her fifteenth birthday, so I taught that cats at that age... I thought they were just prone to getting sick! I didn't think much about it." Millicent fumed, feeling mad at herself for her neglect.
Emily began to run her hand down her friend's back to soothe her cries, "Mind if I take a look at her photograph, Millicent?" She asked softly, prying herself away from the hug. Millicent nodded and handed it over to her. "She had pitch black fur when she was born. Green eyes, too – a bit lighter than yours, though. More on the mint side of green. As Calypso got older, a few white stripes showed around her tummy."
Being the daughter of a transfiguration professor shown to be useful at that exact minute. Emily scrambled to the window and leaned over to the ledge where clumps of freshly fallen snow had coupled together into a giant mass. She bared the frosty pain of handling snow with bare hands, quickly working with what she had gathered until it had formed into a medium-sized sphere of snow.
Don't fail me now. Emily pressed the palms of her hands against either side of the ball, her eyes closed shut in pure concentration. The first thing you have to know about transfiguration is that you need your imagination as a crutch, Aunt Minerva said when she had first caught Emily sneaking into her study to read the teaching material she made for students. Focus on your goal. Think about what you need for it to become and manifest it in your magic.
Though her eyes were closed, Emily saw streaks of silver light glow from where she held the snowball. Warmth began to radiate from her palms.
"Merlin's bleeding beard – you... you brought her back." Millicent said followed by a scoff of disbelief. Emily opened her eyes and finally looked at her creation; what was left of the snow had melted into a puddle, leaving a fist-sized figurine of a black cat.
The girls had both stepped back in admiration; the figurine was as dark as onyx and glittered beautifully like the snow it was made from, while the eyes glowed mint green as Millicent had described. "It's the best that I could do... It came out smaller than what I had anticipated – "
"She's perfect," Millicent interjected, wrapping Emily back into a hug to show her gratitude. "Thank you, Potter."
It had been months now since Emily's second sorting, and yet it was only at that moment that she was indeed a Potter. After years of only being called by her first name, she now found herself bearing identities from two last names. McGonagall and Potter. Her heartfelt full at how she grew up with literally nothing, and then ended up with more than what she had asked for in the first place.
"Happy holidays, Mill." Emily whispered to her, leaving her friend to cherish the figurine while she went to her trunk and began packing a few sets of clothes enough to tide over a few days in Gryffindor house. Once she had stuffed the necessities in her backpack, Emily rushed back downstairs and reentered the common room, pleased to see that Crabbe and Goyle had left.
However, another figure occupied the sofa near the fireplace. "Where are you off to?" Draco asked, though his tone was harsh enough to make his words sound like a demand, his eyes were plastered to the emerald flames of the hearth.
"I'm spending Christmas with my brother," Emily answered, matching his demeaning attitude. "Got a problem with that, Draco?"
He smirked, still avoiding eye contact. "None at all." Draco said, "Just leave."
I was about to, anyway.
~
"Have I missed anything?" Emily screamed as she waltzed through the porthole and into Gryffindor territory, immediately calling attention from quite possibly one of the people who shouldn't know she was there.
A tall, fifth-year student rose from the armchair, his red curls bouncing as he moved. "How'd you get in here?" Percy Weasley queried, his voice coming across of that in an interrogation. Who wears a Prefect badge on a Christmas sweater?
"I don't know. Maybe don't make your passwords so...obvious." Emily said, passing by him to sit down with her brother and Ron who occupied the table in the far corner of their common room. "What happened to your leg?" Ron asked, eyeing the bruise that shone black and blue on the girl's knee. Emily looked down, raising her right leg to catch a view of the said bruise, pleasantly surprised to have noticed it.
Where did this come from? "Must have been when I accidentally bumped into Cedric's trunk." She explained, slumping into the blood-red couch.
Ron blinked a couple of times, unsure of what he had heard, "His what?"
"His trunk. There was a flood of students headed back home for the holidays, his trunk happened to be floating about – I wasn't paying attention to where I was going, and long story short, I got a tripped over it."
Harry shrugged, "Are you sure he hadn't done it intentionally?" Emily stared at him with her mouth parted ever so slightly in astonishment. "Of course, I'm sure! I don't think Cedric would hurt anyone unless provoked. And even then, I'm positive he would have some kind of moral dilemma. It was an informal duel for Merlin's sake."
"You beat him at the Halloween duel, let me rephrase that – A first-year defeated Cedric Diggory, a fourth-year, in a duel!" Ron recalled, personally baffled by that turn of events. "Imagine the toll that kind of loss does on a person's ego..."
"I'd like to think that Hufflepuffs are simply more evolved than that," Emily commented, eyeing Ron and Harry. Her brother squinted at her. "What about Gryffindors?"
"That's still up for debate."
"Well, as fun is it watching you guys question Cedric; I'm just going out for a while." Percy let the young students know as he was grabbing his jumper from the chair.
"Go on, you'll be late. Penelope must be waiting nearby." Emily mused, pushing him through the porthole, but not before Percy had blushed an angry vermillion bright enough for everyone to see.
"You really know how to push a person's buttons. You and Ginny would get on wonderfully." Ron remarked, chuckling. Emily felt her spirits lift up at the mention of the Weasley sister. "Fred and George did mention her before, I can't wait to meet her."
At the mention of his twin brothers, Ron turned pale and dropped his mincemeat pie on the table. "Oh, Merlin help me. Fred, George, and Ginny next year... There's no doubt in my mind that she won't get in Gryffindor, this might be the last year where I'll know peace – just this morning, those two replaced my soap with frog spawn! And Ginny alone is already such a menace."
"I like her already," Emily said, grinning. "Get ready for next year, Ron." Harry jokingly warned him.
Emily looked around the common room, "Speaking of pranks, where're Fred & George?"
"Don't know, reckon they'd be here in about an hour or so," Harry said. She caught a glimpse of her ring and saw that it was shining like a lighthouse. Emily had felt guilty for leaving Draco alone, especially on Christmas Eve. He wouldn't be calling for me if it weren't important. It was high time that she face him and everything about them that she tried so hard to avoid.
Emily tugged at the ends of her sleeves, her nerves getting to the best of her. "I'll be back in a while, don't wait up for me – also, please do not be reckless while I'm gone." She raced to the porthole and immediately ran out of the Gryffindor Common Room, leaving her brother and his best friend somewhat bewildered.
"See you later then." Ron yelled after her, still confused by the change of plans.
A few hours later~
Emily woke up to the dull pains that radiated from her shoulders and knees, after propping herself up by her elbows, she blinked a couple of times to navigate her surrounds though it proved futile since she hadn't been wearing her glasses.
Just then, a figure came to her and gently fitted a pair of spectacles to her face, it took Emily a long while to adjust her eyes to the brightness, her heart-tugging at the sight of Draco Malfoy. "What are you doing in Gryffindor?"
He looked as puzzled as she was, "We're in Slytherin." Draco said, raising an eyebrow. Emily stood up, thoroughly baffled to see that she was indeed surrounded in Slytherin's jewel tones instead of Gryffindor's warm palette, her knees buckling to the point of no return.
"What the hell happened?" Emily muttered, pulling herself up by grabbing at the edge of the sofa. "Well, you fell asleep on the couch. That's 'bout it." Draco plainly explained.
"Mind telling me the whole story?"
"You went in the Common room, you looked like you trekked through the deepest pits of hell, and then you dropped unconscious on the couch."
Emily looked down at her clothes, her hands running down the smooth satin legs of her pajamas. "Did I have time to change clothes before collapsing?" She asked, eyeing Draco. "You were covered in some kind of slime; it was nasty really. You still smell like wet dog." He admitted, hiding his embarrassment. "Millicent helped, too."
She laughed and stood up and felt pain on her stomach and shoulder, Emily turned to look at him, seeing his frown. "You had scratches by the way, pretty deep as well, did a poor job mending them." Draco motioned to her right shoulder and her midsection. Despite his efforts of trying to appear passive, his eyes had given him away; his grey eyes were shrouded in a heartache of concern and fear for her well-being, his lips overturned in a rueful frown to see how he could not fully heal her wounds.
"You could've waked me up, you know." Emily said, studying the pale brown marks on her stomach. "You think I didn't try? You were out cold." Draco said in a huff, slumping on the couch next to her, looking as if he was ready to get the night over with already.
What the hell did I do? She thought to herself, not remembering anything else other than her leaving Gryffindor tower to find Draco. Well, I found him – but what on earth did I do in between those points of time? Feeling quite spooked, Emily sorted through her nerves and decided to lighten up the mood in the common room. "You called for me earlier?"
"I did." Draco confirmed, sighing as he took off from the sofa to sit down next to the Christmas tree. "The presents arrived, I figured I would let you know." He said, rummaging under the Christmas tree.
Oh. Emily lifted herself from the sofa and sat down on the carpet just in time for Draco to throw her a small red box. "Cool!" She couldn't help but yell out loud, thanking him. Her fingers fiddled with the attached note strapped on the box:
Dear Emily,
This once belonged to your mother, and rest assured, I know she would want you to wear it in her memory and as well as your father's. It is best to remember that magic can take on many forms, one of which is love.
Wear it proudly.
Emily excitingly opened the little red velvet box and reveled at the sight of an ethereal heart-shaped locket, she could not name the material from which it was made of, but the light that it caught from the flames brought such a glow that Emily could only compare it to pure starlight.
Out of instinct, she felt for the curve of the locket and snapped it open, bearing before her eyes two youthful faces of a man and woman. Emily stared at them hungrily, craving for the smallest fragment she could get from the parents she had lost. Much like a majority of portraits in the Wizarding world, their photos moved at ease; the couple shared a look with each other before reverting their attention to Emily, their smiles growing wide as they laid their eyes on her.
She glanced at Draco and then back at the locket, hesitant to show such vulnerability, Emily closed the locket and promptly fastened the necklace to her person.
"My mum sent you a present as well," Draco informed her, his eyes scanning a notecard. He settled the note on the carpet and then passed her a black satin gift box. Surprised, Emily took it in her hands. "Thanks." Once she undid the ribbon and lifted the lid of the box, she was greeted with the obscene glow of what looked like hundreds of emeralds.
Emily squinted and saw that it was a barrette, perhaps a medieval hair ornament, in the form of a serpent encrusted with polished emeralds. "Why would she give me this?" She asked, her voice shaking, did she mistake me for another person?
"You don't like it?" Draco asked, genuinely anxious.
"I love it! But why would she? Your mum has never met me. At least not yet."
"She said she saw you in Diagon Alley, at Madam Malkin's. You were admiring it when you were getting measured for your robes," Draco said knowingly. "That's so nice of her." Emily said, still not taking her eyes off it. This might actually trick me into learning how to style my hair. She returned the jewel back into its case and turned to Draco who was already looking at her, "What?"
"Don't I have a gift?" He joked, a laugh breaking out from him to see her shocked face. "Oh, right!" Emily yelped, mindlessly jumping to the other end of the sofa to reach her bag, ignoring the soreness from her joints. She pulled out a small rectangular box wrapped in brown kraft paper and bound with a thick ribbon.
She scooted over closer to Draco before handing over his present, her eyes sparkling with excitement, "Go on, open it!" Emily pleaded giddily. He sighed, secretly intrigued as to what would make her this enthusiastic. Draco ripped open through the wrapping paper and saw that it was a framed ticket to the 1988 Quidditch World Cup signed by his favored Chaser of the Bulgarian National Team, Clara Ivanova.
"Wha – how – Did you really get this for me?" Draco mumbled, literally at a loss for words, his heart flooding with eternal gratitude. Emily nodded, still beaming with happiness. "D'you like it?" She had, in fact, spent too long of a time in the Quidditch Specialty Store in Hogsmeade, debating whether or not if that were the best she could find for Draco. Now that she was looking directly into his eyes, Emily knew that she made the right call.
"I see that you like It."
"I love it." He corrected her, unable to quit smiling. Draco sprung out of his seat and reached over to the foot of the Christmas tree to retrieve what looked like a leather-bound book sealed with a forest green silk ribbon. The closer he got to Emily, the clearer she saw what it truly was; now on her lap, she cradled an album that held a few photos of them enjoying their lunch at the Black Lake, having breakfast with their other friends in the Great Hall, a portrait of them during the Halloween feast, and a sole photo of her studying in the library.
But what made Emily's heart swell to the point of overwhelming tenderness was, ironically, not the photographs that were so well-curated, it was instead the mass of blank pages that followed. It brought her a sense of what to look forward to in the forthcoming years. To her, it was amazing to learn that the first friend she made already solidified their future together. Maybe there is magic in being vulnerable.
"Would you like to go to Hogsmeade later?" Emily prompted; her arms were wrapped around the album. "Why?" Draco asked, eyeing her curiously.
Because I should have invited you the first time I went instead of being so stubborn. "Can't I spend Christmas with my best friend?"
"Emily-" Draco chastised, but she had cut him short before he could even begin.
"Don't argue with me, we both know that I'm a clear winner. Now, I promised my brother that I would spend time with him, and I have no intentions to break that promise – so, I'll see you in the morning and from there, we'll be on our merry way to the village."
Draco would be lying if he hadn't felt glad to be in her good graces again. He merely nodded to her plan and watched Emily leave the common room. For him, it was enough that she showed up out of the blue, it was enough that they spent time together regardless of how long it was – at the end, Draco was just happy to spend the first few hours of Christmas with Emily Potter.
Though at the back of his mind, the image of her falling into a deep slumber, her flesh seeping with blood and her clothes drenched in what looked like dog slobber, kept resurfacing like a bad dream. Draco knew that she kept her mood upbeat to avoid talking about it, but they both knew that the time would inevitably come for them to finally get to the bottom of what happened to her in the short span of time from traveling between houses.
~
As soon as Emily entered the Gryffindor common room, the sight of her brother and Ron pulling on knitted jumpers greeted her. She felt like she was intruding on something private between two best friends, Emily had half a mind to turn back to Slytherin to where she felt easily at home, but now that she was looking at her brother's laughing face, she sought the courage to try and build a relationship with the last piece of family she will ever know.
She strode further inside until the boys caught her gaze, her smile turning brazen. "I see that we're dressing for festivities." The closer Emily got to them, the clearer she saw the handsomely made needlework embroidered on their jumpers, giving off the idea that someone truly did put their love into the fabric.
Ron noticed the starry look in her eyes, sensing that she was beginning to feel lost, and hurriedly slapped Harry's elbow. "Oh, there's one for you, too!" He quipped, picking up a wrapped present from under the tree. "Ron's mum made them for us." Harry added. Emily looked at the present and then to Ron, "You told your mum about me?" Her voice came out small, too small that it made Harry wonder if that was her real voice.
Emily tore off the paper and unfolded a deep green sweater with her initial knitted on the front in shimmering silver thread. It felt soft in her hands, soft enough to trigger a memory of her burrowing under blankets on a cold rainy evening. Emily slipped the jumper on and it wrapped around her like a warm hug, she ran her hands up and down her arms and smiled. "Right. Thank you." She looked around the room and eyed her bag, quickly heading towards it to retrieve the gifts she had for them.
Emily never had to purchase presents for other people before, let alone boys. She didn't think it would be any hassle to think of a suitable present. But then she spent hours alone trying to figure out her Christmas present for Draco, and then a couple more for Ron and Harry. Boys are so difficult to buy gifts for, what do they even like?
She handed over the wrapped boxes to the pair, "Happy Christmas." It was Emily's gut feeling to get Ron the giant chocolate frog, she was sold to the idea in the first moment she stepped foot in Honeydukes. The amphibian was no smaller than a toddler's skull, and it rested on a wooden box that contained rare collectible cards. For her brother, well, Emily took into consideration on how massive his sweet tooth was, and her ideas took off. She had gotten him a dozen treacle & chocolate cauldron cakes as well as an assortment box of Honeydukes sweets.
In addition to the sweater, Emily had received a Wizards' Chess set from Ron and a silver owl charm bracelet from her brother. "You really shouldn't have," She said to Ron as she looked at the large chess pieces.
"It's nothing, really." Ron dismissed. Emily replaced the pieces back into their box and smiled, feeling mildly embarrassed. "No, I mean you really shouldn't have – I have no clue how to play Muggle Chess, let alone the Wizard variety – "
"Oh! Well, that's not a problem. I'll teach you myself." He said, glancing at Harry before turning back to her. "You might be better than this bloke. I really need a challenge."
Harry's mouth dropped into an o-shape of shock, the back of his hand slapping against Ron's shoulder. "You said I was showing some improvement."
"Yeah, some."
While the two began to bicker and nitpick on the other's chess strategies, Emily put it upon herself to write letters for Draco's and Ron's mother, and as well to send her season's greetings to Ginny Weasley to which she had already formed a fondness for based on the many anecdotes from Fred & George.
When Harry and Ron had ended their squabble, Emily only reignited the fire when she asked them if they could teach her how to play chess by watching the boys undergo a match or two. The three of them stayed on the floor, hunched over the game; Emily was content with being a spectator, she enjoyed being in her brother and Ron's company.
And then, after what seemed to be their seventh match, the trio succumbed to the bouts of sleepiness and rested on the common room floor that they patched with sofa cushions and blankets, immediately falling asleep near the comforting warmth of the fire.
~
Christmas Day began in full swing with Emily returning to her house quite earlier than intended to prepare herself for the plans she and Draco had in store. Once she had dried her hair and gotten dressed completely, Emily went down the staircase and entered the common room, only to see her best friend still clad in his pinstripe pajamas.
"You're still not ready." She stated stonily. "I can't believe I woke up early for this, you have a lot of nerve – "
In a blur of a second, Draco had kissed her cheek, leaving Emily stunned in silence as he ran up to his dormitory. She huffed, attempting to chase after him, "That doesn't change anything – you know what, we're going to miss the carriages if you don't hurry!"
Emily could feel the blood in her face grow warm and prickly. Draco Malfoy, what an idiot.
~
A witch dressed in pale pink robes deckled with rainbow sprinkles approached the table, her lips that were painted strawberry red parted into a big smile. "Welcome to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, happy holidays! Have you made your decision, loves?"
Emily wasn't one for brightly colored robes, but seeing the young witch made her rethink her opinions. "Happy holidays to you as well! Erm, I'd like the butterbeer sundae, please." It was the shop's best-seller, and upon reading the description, she saw why. It had three scoops of the signature sweet, nutty butterbeer flavored ice cream, generously layered with honey-roasted macadamias and cashews, honeycomb, and whipped cream.
Draco had merely pointed at the sundae of his choosing and grinned shyly at the waitress, noting that he ordered a Merlin's Delight which consisted of three whopping scoops of dark chocolate gelato, marshmallow fudge, crushed pistachios, candied oranges, and whipped cream.
"Great choices, dears. I'll be right back with your orders." The witch advised them, bearing another kind smile before retrieving the menus and making her way into the kitchen.
Draco watched Emily's eyes trail off, her focus pinned on the waitress' pink robes. She turned back and blushed when she noticed that Draco had been watching her. "Her robes were quite pretty. Do you think I'd pull that off?"
For a moment, it sincerely looked like he was debating himself about her question. Draco looked at the other servers and saw how they all wore pastel-colored robes. "Personally, I think deeper colors suit you. But now that I see that one," He said, nodding towards a wizard clad in muted peach-colored robes and a bonnet that seemed to look like a massive dollop of whipped cream. "That would suit you perfectly. Hat and all."
Emily wanted to throw her water goblet at Draco's head, but she turned to see the wizard in question and believed for her friend to be telling the truth. Though she did doubt the whipped cream hat, that would look like a cloud on my head. Minutes have passed until the witch returned to their table and served their sundaes, the two thanked her before she left to assist another table.
Emily picked up the golden spoon and momentarily hesitated to dig into her dessert. She looked over at Draco who was already wolfing down on the candied oranges that decorated his glass. "Draco, mind scooping the cherry out for me?"
"Okay, but why?"
"I'm allergic."
A soft oh escaped from his lips, "I never liked cherries myself." Draco muttered, scooping up the cherry that glistened in its syrup like a ruby, also taking the twirl of whipped cream it was nestled under as a precaution for Emily.
Emily smiled doubtfully at him, now proceeding to dig in, "Didn't I see you devour half a cherry pie during dinner?"
"That was a long time ago – "
"It's been only a month since then, just eat the damn cherry, I know you want to." Emily countered, a rush of delight surging within her as she bit down on the honeycomb.
Draco scowled at the cherry, "Well, I can't now! You're staring at me." He said bitterly, dumping the cherry on the little plate underneath his sundae's glass. "Wow, is Draco Malfoy insecure? Never thought I would live to see this day." Emily mocked, her brow raised in faux surprise.
"No! You're staring at me and it is unnerving." He said, defensively.
"You should get used to me." Emily stated as she pointed her spoon at him, and it seemed that she pointed at him with so much force that a few wisps of honey splattered on his cheek, making Draco jump in alarm.
Draco would have retaliated on Emily by pelting a spoonful of his ice cream, however, once he saw the blank state of her expression, Draco knew that it was completely accidental and that Emily was just as shocked as he had been.
Emily reached for a wad of napkins from the little cauldron cake shaped dispenser and dipped the edges with water before leaning across the table to clean the mess she made. While her hand swept Draco's cheek clean from the honey, her free hand latched onto his neck to keep the boy steady.
"There." She whispered, rumpling the makeshift moist towelette into a ball. "Good as new. Well, you're still quite horrendous looking – it's going to take more than water to fix that mess."
"Very funny."
"After this, I have another place in mind where we could visit." Emily hinted, clearly on the edge of her seat.
Right as she reached the end of her sentence, Draco seemed to eat his ice cream a touch too fast. He dropped his spoon in the now empty glass and excused himself from the table. "Wait right here."
And I thought I was weird. Emily continued to finish her sundae, her eyes relishing in the beautiful snow-frosted streets of Hogsmeade, the entire village looking as if it had popped out of a Christmas card. But just then, coming out of the alleyway was a dark-cloaked man with a deep violet turban. Emily squinted through the snowfall and noticed that it was Professor Quirell looking quite pale and occupied, his hands clamped together so tightly that it indicated that he was frantically nervous about something.
Emily stopped eating altogether. Who is he talking to? The professor's lips were indeed moving, but unlike when he spoke during classroom discussions, he was not quivering. In fact, by just looking at him right now, he wasn't shaking at all like a shoddy pile of nerves. He appeared almost sinister to the eye, and when he caught sight of his student staring at him from the ice cream parlor, it was almost like a veil had been cast over him.
Professor Quirrell's entire body slumped from his previous straight stance, his knotted hands loosened and began nervously tinkering with his fingers. He awkwardly nodded towards Emily before storming off across the village until he was out of sight.
"That was weirder than usual," Emily said to herself, hearing Draco's footsteps come closer.
"What was?" Draco asked, standing by her side. Emily sighed heavily, recounting the scene that unfolded before her eyes. "Quirrell. I saw him coming out of a dark alley, and he was talking to himself."
"He's always been an oddball."
There was something else about him. "You didn't see him when he thought no one else was looking at him – he was like a different person up until he saw me."
Draco shrugged, scanning the streets through the picture window. "Well, better have a room reserved for him at St. Mungo's." He joked.
Emily stood up and scanned his face carefully. "You paid, didn't you?"
"Well..."
"Ugh, come on." She said, dragging him outside of the shop.
"Where are we taking me?" He asked. Emily smiled, her hand still holding his arm, "Do you trust me?"
Draco scrunched up his nose and sighed, "I feel like this is a trick question of which I shouldn't answer." He remarked, smirking. They stood in the middle of the frosted street when she had let go of him to procure her handkerchief from her coat pocket, her fingers delicately folding it into a blindfold. Emily moved closer to him and knotted the handkerchief around his head, making sure to conceal his sight. "This has gotten out of hand, what on earth are you bloody doing?"
"Stop fidgeting! If you so much as loosen the knot, it'll curse you till you're blind. Wouldn't want that now, would we?" Draco didn't stop to think whether Emily was bluffing or not, he just went along with it seeing that nothing too tragic could happen if he did follow her lead. Besides, as much as he trusted her, Draco did not want to test her temper.
After being down the winding road, Emily maneuvered him to stand next to her, lifting his chin up to catch the full view. "Here we are," She said cheerily while she removed the blindfold. Draco blinked rapidly, squinting as he adjusted to the sudden brightness. "Where are we?" When the white spots in front of his eyes dissolved, he caught sight of a rundown Victorian mansion.
It looked like it was running on fumes with the way it stood shoddily in the middle of the field in its lonesome. "They named it the Shrieking Shack," Emily commented, leaning against the wooden fence that parted the village and the attraction. "A lot of wizards have dubbed it as one of the most haunted places in Britain."
Draco stared at her, dumbfounded, "You mean to tell me that we're supposed to go inside? I think it'll collapse as soon as we breathe near it – "
"Come on, where's your sense of adventure?"
"It's being held back by my will to live," He retorted, resisting her efforts to drag him across the fence. As the two first years began dragging each other in the snow, a burly man dressed in a thick wool jumper spotted them from the other side of the fence. Emily and Draco spotted him and slowly settled down. "Visitin' the Shriekin' Shack, kids?"
"Yes." Emily confirmed, elbowing Draco in his stomach.
The man nodded, looking back at the house, "Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but visits have been prohibited until the end of the month. We've been sent to reconstruct the foundation. Sometimes it's just the shack you hear that's shriekin' and not the ghouls and beasties inside."
Emily frowned and felt riled up by the smug, victorious look on Draco's face. "Well, alright. Thank you for letting us know." She then wished him a wonderful holiday before being swept away by her best friend. They followed the winding road back into the heart of the village where Draco was finally able to breathe freely.
"Really got you scared there for a moment, Malfoy." She said jokingly.
Draco's eyes widened for a second, "You sounded like your brother just then, it's unbecoming."
"Shut up."
"Can I ask you something of you?" He queried, sounding serious.
Emily looked at the hopeful look on Draco's face, leading her to believe that this was something of a different nature. "If this is about our Charms homework, I'm not going to let you copy off of me."
"That's not it."
"Then what is it?" She snapped, growing quite impatient. Emily shoved her hands under her arms to warm her fingers, cursing herself for picking the wrong gloves for what seemed like the coldest winter she had ever experienced. She felt like her blood was about to crystalize into ice by each passing second Draco struggled to form a sentence.
Emily watched him fumble with something in his gloved hand, Emily assumed it was spare change – but soon the light got caught with the mysterious trinket and it sparkled brilliantly.
"I love you – "
"No."
Draco stared at her blankly, an emerald ring now visible in his hand, "I didn't even finish my sentence," He said with a shaky laugh, "What do you mean by no?" Her throat went bone dry while the rest of her being started to shiver in the cold, "I don't... know. Draco, we're friends."
"Right... Of course, forget that I even said anything." He muttered, angrily shoving the ring back in his coat pocket. Was he delirious to even think that this girl would even consider accepting his proposal? Yes, but he was in a sane mind to believe that she would at least return the feelings he had for her. Perhaps I was wrong.
~
Edited July 7, 2020
What was the reason for me to write chapters this long, this could have easily been two chapters.