"Emily Poole, you are exceptionally ordinary" ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
"What a strange way to tell me you love me, but I'll take it," ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
In which Emily falls in love w...
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WHEN EMILY WOKE the next morning and looked out the window, she saw to her delight that the sky was clear and pale blue, which she took as a good omen. The only other girl awake in her dormitory was Fay Dunbar, who was sat up on her bed reading her copy of "Confronting the Faceless", the new textbook for Defence Against the Dark Arts.
"Is the chapter Snape assigned long?" Emily asked her as she pulled on her Quidditch robes.
Fay shrugged. "It isn't so bad, but I'm making a summary anyway in case you need it,"
"Thanks Fay," Emily said with a broad smile, "Will you come to watch the game?"
Fay smiled before pointing at a pile of Gryffindor scarves and flags lying on her trunk at the foot of her bed. "You bet,"
With that, Emily pulled on the last of her gear, grabbed her broomstick from under her bed and bid Fay goodbye. It was barely past 8, and Quidditch games only ever started at 10 on Sundays, giving Emily two hours to practice and have breakfast. She started the descent to the Quidditch field, passing the Great Hall on her way and grabbing bread roll.
Breakfast is the most important meal of day, Emily. She could practically hear her mother's voice speaking to her through her head.
When she finally reached the Quidditch, chewing on the remnants of her breakfast, she had to rummage through several boxes of gear in the Gryffindor changing room before she could find a spare Quaffle. At last, Quaffle under her arm, she kicked off on her Nimbus 2001. She managed to bewitch the ball to fly back each time it went through a hoop, and had been playing for an hour and a half when she decided to stop.
She headed for the Gryffindor changing rooms, but as she got closer, she heard muttering coming from inside the wooden hut. Frowning, she pushed the door open softly, and a familiar mop of white blonde hair came into view. Draco Malfoy was sitting, back to the door, muttering something under his breath.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Emily asked, crossing her arms over her chest. Draco jumped so high she thought his head might graze the ceiling, and he turned towards her. When he saw it was Emily, his face turned into an ugly sneer.
"It's none of your business, Poole," he all but snarled, and she rolled her eyes.
"Last I heard you quit the team and you were still a Slytherin," she said, "Which means you have no reason to be here,"
"Leave me alone," he hissed, "Or I'll hex you into next week,"
Emily had pulled her wand just as quickly, but when her flitted to Draco's shaking hands, she frowned.
