𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒-ℍ𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕪 ℙ𝕠𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣❥

𝐆𝐎𝐅 𝟏𝟓

When Emily woke up on Sunday morning, it took her a moment to remember why she felt so empty and worried.

Then the memory of the previous night rolled over her.

She sat up and ripped back the curtains of the four-poster, intending to talk to Hermione, only to find that Hermione's bed was empty; she had obviously gone down to breakfast. Emily also noticed that she had fallen asleep in Hermione's bed.

She stood up and her head felt like a ton of bricks were clashing down on her, how many butter beers did I have? she thought.

Emily dressed and went down the spiral staircase into the common room.

The moment she appeared, the people who had already finished breakfast broke into applause again.

The prospect of going down into the Great Hall and facing the rest of the Gryffindors, all treating her like some sort of hero, was not inviting; it was that, however, or stay here and allow herself to be cornered by the Creevey brothers, who were both beckoning frantically to her to join them.

She walked resolutely over to the portrait hole, pushed it open, climbed out of it, and made her way to breakfast.

Emily walked into the Great Hall, scanning the tables for her friends. None of them were there. She let out an exasperated sigh, rolling her eyes, and made her way toward Draco and his friends.

"What do you want, freak?" Parkinson sneered, her friends snickering behind her. Emily ignored them, refusing to give them the satisfaction.

"You alright, Meels?" Draco asked quietly, his eyes flicking over her with concern. Emily noticed that he hadn't touched any of the food in front of him.

"Can we talk, please?" she asked.

Draco nodded, and they moved to a quieter spot at the end of the Slytherin table. Draco pushed some toast toward her plate, though Emily immediately shook her head.

"Do you believe me?" she asked finally, taking a small nibble of the toast.

"Of course," he said, his usual calm tone steady. "When Dumbledore read out your name, you looked like someone had just shot you in the back."

Emily chuckled softly, a little of her tension easing. "Thanks."

Draco's eyes darkened, his jaw tightening. "Do you know who put your name in there? I know Potter put his, but... he didn't put yours in too, did he? I swear, if he did—" He cut himself off, his lips pressing into a thin line of anger.

"Calm down, tough lad," Emily said with a small smile. "Harry didn't put it in, and I don't know who did. Probably some stupid joke from the older years."

A quiet moment passed as they both nibbled on toast, the noise of the hall fading into the background. Then Draco reached into the sleeve of his robes and pulled out a folded letter.

"Eric wrote me this," he said, handing it over carefully. "He said he would've written to you directly, but it would've been too obvious."

Emily snatched the letter from him without hesitation and bolted from the Great Hall, weaving through the crowd as excitement and nerves collided in her chest. She raced back to the common room, her heart pounding in her ears, and collapsed onto the sofa.

Hands trembling slightly, she tore open the envelope and unfolded the parchment, eager and anxious to read her brother's words.

Dear Emily,

Ethan wrote to me — told me everything Harry's said and done lately. And believe me when I tell you: I am not impressed. Who does that boy think he is, talking to you like that? Acting like you're something he can own?