The Carnival ⌁ Draco Malfoy [1/4] ✔

29

During any course of free time over the next few days, Emma was studying potions with Draco. Daphne seemed to notice the pairs departure every time and grew suspicious, from what Emma could tell, but never said a thing to anybody about it. But learning potions was like learning math; difficult, almost pointless, and hard not to forget.

It appeared also that Harry wanted to speak with Emma but never got the chance. Now, she understood, that he was finally coming around to the questions. But Harry was always surrounded by people and Emma was always learning potions with Draco, if not in class. And she was lucky that she didn't have to spend all her time with Draco, as he was still quite flirty when other people were around but he wasn't as bad as before - Sabrina had finally uttered a few words to her, and Emma tried rectifying any problems Sabrina might've had with her, but it only seemed Sabrina was sad and distant in fear of her O.W.L examinations in June, and over the escape of her parents.

And, Snape had finally looked Emma in the eye - the look had frightened her, though she couldn't pinpoint what kind of look it was.

"That's an 'E' Miss Baranov, and, correct me if I'm mistaken," he looked away from her potion and up at Emma, who had been biting her fingernails anxiously, "it appears you are advancing."

Though Emma had disagreed, she hadn't told him this and walked back over to her desk to retrieve her bag, tripping over her own feet along the way. Earning a compliment from Snape felt like winning an award of some sort. 

"See, you're advancing," Draco told her matter-of-factly after class ended and they'd set off toward the Great Hall. 

But, Emma didn't quite agree. She'd forgotten everything by the next tutoring session with Draco, and had angrily threw her bag across the library and at one of the book shelves, a few books dropping to the floor.

"I'm so stupid!" she hissed angrily, sinking into one of the chairs in front of Draco, red-faced and arms crossed.

"Why do you want to pass Potions so bad, anyway?" Draco mused, getting up from his chair to grab Emma's bag for her.

"I want to pass everything," she huffed, taking her bag from Draco.

"Why? What do you want to be?"

"That's the thing, I don't know! That's why I want to pass everything that way I'll have more options or if I change my mind," she explained. "I used to suck at Charms but thank goodness I've gotten the hang of it. I don't need to worry about Defence. I'm occasionally good at Transfiguration, but I couldn't do the essays if my life, once again, depended on it."

"It looks to me as though you've got the hang of everything, it's just the essays you're having trouble with," said Draco. "And Potions, obviously."

"Obviously?"

Draco put on a wince-like smile and jerked his head pointedly toward the books Emma had knocked off the shelf from throwing her bag in fury out of pure forgetfulness. She knew she was horrible at remembering things in Potions, but it just annoyed her that Draco had agreed so casually.

"Why don't we try the Draught of Peace again?" he suggested carefully, seemingly awaiting another outburst. "I've had Crabbe and Goyle nick ingredients from Snape's store cupboard, so it doesn't matter how many times you do it, you're going to get it right."

"Thanks for doing this," Emma mumbled, sheepishly looking up at Draco readying their ingredients. They were in the back of the library, hidden from Madam Pince, so all they had to worry about was if she could smell the Potion. "You probably have better things to do such as study for other subjects."

Draco's response was unheard as Emma had caught sight of Harry leaving the library, tucking away a few books with Hermione Granger talking in his ear. But, now was not the time to talk with her brother - Draco was teaching her Potions, and he'd get jealous as he didn't know she and Harry were actually related, and Hermione was accompanying Harry anyway.

It was quite late by the time Emma had finished making the potion - quite well but only because Draco helped - and they stored it away and left for the Slytherin common room. It was quite occupied, the sound other than voices was the flittering fire ablazing like a thousand fireflies.

"I'm going to bed," Emma bade Draco good night and headed up the dormitory stairs and into the girls dormitory, where Daphne was awake reading a book, and Sabrina, Pansy and Millicent were already asleep.

Daphne didn't lower her book or look over it to see who had entered.

"Have fun?" was all she said in a high-pitched almost sing-song kind of voice, though knowing was pitched in there somewhere.

Emma made no reply and stripped into something more comfortable to sleep in, and moved under the covers on her bed.

"I'm guessing you're still mad about the whole jumper thing," she finally responded. She noticed the lights were on, and said, "how haven't the other girls hit you for leaving the lights on?"

"I'm coming to my senses, and I know how stupid it must sound that I'm furious over the ruining of my jumper," said Daphne airily, still not looking over her novel. "But it's not like you'd understand. No one in your family has died I take it, at least not someone you love."

"That's totally besides the point," Emma said crossly, pushing herself up against her pillows with a huff. "It was an accident, it's not like I meant for it to get ruined!"

"I know you didn't mean for it to happen," Daphne replied in a bored tone, and Emma could sense that she'd rolled her eyes. "The point is, it did. Which therefore means whether you meant for it or not, I'm still furious either way. Anyway," Daphne dropped her voice to a whisper and closed her novel. "Have you noticed the way Sabrina's been acting lately?"

Emma perked up immediately, as though her focus was pulled by strings. Daphne was looking at her worriedly, but wasn't quite meeting her eyes.

"I thought I was the only one."

"Her parents did just escape Azkaban, though, poor thing," said Daphne in an almost careless tone, her gaze moving over toward Sabrina who was asleep. "She's never liked them."

Emma said nothing, only tucked her pillows lower behind her, ready to turn on her side and fall asleep.

"I really am sorry for the way I've been treating you." Emma didn't move, only lay on her side with her back facing Daphne. Images of Daphne leering at her or laughing behind her back flashed before her eyes and they began to stream, but she fought against allowing her tears to escape. "I'm almost as sorry as you are for ruining my jumper. It's in the fixing right now, and I forgive you."