Emma Potter; Going to War

101: Hogwarts

DRACO:

Draco blearily opened his eyes, and squinted as sunlight hit his eyes. He felt strangely groggy yet refreshed at the same time. His back hurt a bit, and he didn't feel like getting up. The sun peeked in the bedroom window, lighting his hair like a fiery halo. he lifted his head from the pillow, a looked around. The suns vibrant rays sent a glossy, gold sheen all around the room, blending with the falling leaves of autumn.  He assessed the time; 6 o'clock.   

Emma was curled up against him, her waves were scattered across the pillow. Her arms were wrapped around his torso, and she had a slight smile on her face. Smirking, Draco realised that Emma was wearing his t-shirt from last night. He didn't remember giving it to her but he figured she might have gotten up in the middle of the night and taken it or something. Emma turned in her sleep and he promptly turned to his side too, his right arm wrapped around his waist. 

Her smile widened, and all Draco could think of was, If I can make her smile every day I will. 

He couldn't, it wasn't realistic to think so, but he would try. Emma was worth it, but then again, to him; Emma was worth a lot more. And if given the chance of making her happy for the rest of her life he'd take it. 

When they had started dating, his parents had asked him why he had chosen Emma Potter out of all the girls at Hogwarts. Why not pureblood? Why not someone higher in society?

He had opened his mouth to explain, but couldn't find the right words. All he could think of was; because it's Emma. 

They had touched, hugged, and laughed before they dated as well, and after he had done that--after he had held her, just like in this moment, how could he say no to keeping that forever? How could he --how could anyone-- know Emma Potter and not have the urge to keep those moments forever? Locked away so that it was something only they knew?

The girls he had kissed; before and during the time where she didn't remember him, were statues. They had let themselves be kissed, but their skin when he had tried to enjoy it, was cold and repulsive; and always, always Draco thought of Emma. 

Emma had crawled herself under his skin in their fourth year and made her way to his head; drugging his mind until almost every single thought revolved around her. She had him in the palm of her hand only she didn't know it. He saw how everyone apart from Slytherin House looked at them, he heard their whispers: 'What is Emma Potter doing with him?' 'Did he force her?' 'How could someone so nice like a bully?'

He was a villain to them.  He was a villain to many people, but if he was a villain then she was the treasure worth protecting; worth guarding. he fell in love with the way she looked at him, spoke to him, touched him without using her hands, and left him breathless but still full of life. And to have someone understand your mind is a different kind of intimacy.

His smirk grew wider as he noticed the hickeys covering her neck and going further down, but he couldn't see them because of his T-shirt.

His left arm began moving under her shirt, realizing with a thrill, that she was only wearing his t-shirt. Automatically, without really thinking, his fingers moved to her clit, but a whimper escaped her mouth as they made contact. Draco thought she might still be sore, from last night. He gave her a small kiss on her neck to apologize, before wrapping his arms around the skin of her waist. 

Emma turned once again, mumbling his name into his chest in her sleep. He smirked to himself, she was dreaming about him? He wasn't really one to judge, since his night was filled with pleasant dreams of her too. Emma curled herself into a little ball. Draco chuckled, putting his hands under her arms he lifted her up and placed her on top of him. It wouldn't be comfortable for her to sleep like that, so she stretched herself out.