My Darling |Fred Weasley|

Chapter 8

*Narrator POV*

Time skip: almost 3 weeks(mid October)

The detentions went relatively fast for the duo because they always followed through with their routine: argue, argue, more arguing, and ending with hoping to other would die, then repeat.

While Emery was on her way to the last of her detentions, she was abruptly stopped by a group of Slytherins.

"Well well well, what do we have here," the familiar venomous blonde spat, eyeing her up and down with disgust, "My personal favorite filthy mudblood".

Before she could say anything, a voice spoke up from behind her, "Watch it, Malfoy".

Emery turned to reveal Greyson Collins speeding up to the group with anger prominent in his eyes.

Malfoy chuckled a bit before continuing, seemingly not even threatened by her best friend's being; "Collins, you know we could have been good mates. You come from a good family, wealth, and most importantly, the original 28".

He went on with malicious content dripping from his voice, "Unfortunately, you turned out to be like the Weasleys, much to my dismay," He paused to give himself that dramatic Draco Malfoy effect before continuing, "A worthless blood traitor".

That sent Greyson over the edge.

In the blink of an eye, Greyson launched himself at the taunting blonde, connecting his fist with Malfoy's face over and over again.

Emery just watched as the blood seeped from Malfoy's nose and dribbled onto his white shirt. If it weren't for his friends to pull the two apart, Emery would have continued to relish in Malfoy's downfall, enjoying the painful crack of his bones.

Snapping her out of her thoughts, Greyson walked right in front of Emery with his hands dripping with blood and his face marked with the imprint of Malfoy's rings.

*Emery's POV*

"Are you okay?" I asked, rushing to cup Grey's face and inspect his wounds.

"I'm fine. Are you alright?"

Of course my best friend would be the only one to get in a fight and ask me if I were alright.

"Of course," I responded. I took his wrist in my hand, leading him away from the group and towards the hospital wing.

"E, I'm fine. I don't need to go see bloody Pomfrey" Greyson pleaded while trying to resist my harsh grip on his wrist.

"I know you aren't as bad as Malfoy, but I need to make sure you're alright".

As if on cue, when we rounded the corner, our eyes instantly met with the identical redheads at the end of the hall.

Rushing up to us with eyes wide filled with both curiosity and concern, George spoke up first, "Bloody hell. What happened?"

As George inspected Greyson's hands, Fred just couldn't help himself to an insensitive remark, "Did Yates beat you up? If so, I have no issue with hitting a girl, especially her".

I rolled my eyes at his stupidity. Even though I was itching to say something back to him, Greyson just chuckled and responded, "No. If it were her, then I probably wouldn't be up and walking".