Everyone's heard the saying that you don't find love; it finds you. In Love Emerson's case, love didn't just find her; it literally knocked her off her feet.
OR
ʜᴀʀʀʏ ᴘᴏᴛᴛᴇʀ ʟᴏᴠᴇꜱ ᴀ ɢɪʀʟ ʙᴜᴛ ʟᴀᴄᴋꜱ ᴏꜰ ʜɪꜱ ꜰᴀᴛʜᴇʀ'ꜱ ꜱᴋɪʟʟꜱ.
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"How is my second favourite Potter doing?" Fred Weasley called, sliding next to Harry on the sofa in the Gryffindor common room with a familiar look on his face that told Harry too much and too little.
George took the seat on Harry's other side, sporting the same grin and twinkling eyes as his twin. "Not knocking out anyone today, have you?"
"The day's still young, there's still plenty of time," Fred added to his brother's question.
Harry turns his gaze away from the game of exploding Snap game he was playing with Ron, his emerald eyes softly narrowing with suspicion and hesitant mistrust. He has seen that look enough times to know it's usually followed by trouble.
"Sod off, the both of you," Ron scowls at his brothers who didn't pay him any mind, instead they both were grinning at Harry.
"What do you want?" Harry deadpanned. If his suspicions are right then they were probably after his father's map.
George turns towards his twin, inquiring. "Do we want anything, Fred?"
"Other than give our second favourite Potter a heads up? Nothing George," Fred answered his brother, turning his gaze towards Harry whose frowns deepened.
"What are you on about?" Ron asks, looking between his brothers, mirroring Harry's suspicious frown.
The twins shared yet another waggish look much to Harry's and Ron's concern.
With a hint of exasperation, Harry looks between the red-headed twins and asks. "What is it?"
"Did you know your lovely lady has a fan club?"
"And it not just you?"
Harry blinks, confused. "What?"
"Emerson," Fred clarifies as if Harry didn't know already who they were speaking of. "She has suitors lining up to her."
Well, that was to expect, isn't it? Harry thought. Love Emerson is walking art, only to be gazed upon, to be admired and loved.
Before he could say anything, George continued adding to his brother's statement. "And we happen to know she has been asked out to Hogsmeade and she said yes."
Harry blinks again. The information processed through his mind, slowly but surely. 'Someone is taking her on a date to Hogsmeade? And it's not me?' He felt his stomach twisting and turning restlessly. He feels off. His chest is painfully tight. Harry has half the mind to get up and demand Madam Pomfrey figure out what is wrong with him because he feels like he's about to have a right fit. This new bomb of information the twins dropped was settling an awful sickening feeling on his bowls that was transitioning to his chest and then his throat, something was climbing out.
