Harry Potter and the Emerald Dragon

Title: Harry Potter and the Emerald Dragon (6/?)
Author: CPoe
Author email: [email protected]
Category: Romance, Adventure
Keywords: Harry, Emily, Hermione, Draco, Ron
Spoilers: All four books
Rating: R (to be on the safe side)
Summary: It's Harry's sixth year, and he meets a new girl that comes along with a lot of baggage. Romances are budding, confusion is all around, and the threesome's life is going to become a little hectic.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK
Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books,
Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Authors Note: This story takes place in Harry's sixth year, however, I've decided for the purpose of the story that those two years above Harry (George, Fred, Angelina, etc.) are still at Hogwarts. I started writing it and wrote in these characters (and I like them, so I'm gonna keep them in it). Also, I'm American, so if any British terms are misused, I apologize in advance.
Harry Potter and the Emerald Dragon

Chapter 6: Revelations

Harry walked out into the hallway, following the rest of his classmates. He was vaguely aware of Ron and Hermione walking next to him. They were talking, as were the rest of the students, but he didn't hear a word they were saying. In his head, he just kept replaying the scene he had just seen transpire in potions. Snape calling Emily's name, her bringing the flask to her lips, and then the blinding light. It flew from her like an explosion, brighter then any light he had seen before.

"You okay Harry?" came a voice from just behind him. Harry slowly turned his head and saw it was Neville.

"Yeah," Harry responded, his voice soft and distant. The truth was that he was anything but ok. He was disturbed. Upset. Scared. Angry.

"That was really cool," Neville said. "The way the new girl glowed like that." Harry looked up at him, was he joking?

"Cool?"

"I wish I had made my potion wrong," Neville continued. "Come to think of it, I think that this is the first time I haven't made my potion wrong."

"She didn't make it wrong, Neville," Harry said, his voice soft and measured.

"What? B-but Snape...." Neville stammered.

"Emily is the last person in the class that would mess up making her potion," Harry said.

"But...you mean...." Harry watched as realization dawned on Neville's face.

"I can't believe she didn't tell me. Just kept saying she didn't know why she could do things...lying to me--"

"She looked pretty surprised to me, Harry. I don't think she knew," Neville interrupted him. Harry considered this. Maybe she hadn't known. Maybe she wasn't lying to him. She willingly drank the potion in front of the entire class, knowing what it would do. If she were trying to hide it, then she never would have...

"I've got to go," Harry said, turning around suddenly, just barely missing a head-on collision with Seamus.

"But Harry! Herbology is next! We have to..." Harry heard Neville call from behind him. He didn't turn back though; he just weaved through the other students until the hallway ahead of him was empty. Before he knew it, he had broken into a run. Please still be there, please still be there...

As he rounded the corner before the potions dungeon, he was suddenly face to face with...

"Malfoy."

"Potter." They both stared at each other for a second before Harry pushed past him, and slipped into the potions room. Sitting at her desk, blowing her nose into a tissue, sat Emily.

He stood about a foot into the doorway, staring at her. After a few moments, she turned around, her face expressionless.

"Shouldn't you be in class?" she said, her voice uninflected and cold.

"Yes."

"Then why are you here?"

"I was hoping you'd still be here."

"You didn't seem concerned when you left," her voice even colder then before.

"I...was shocked," he said. It was the truth after all.

"I'm sure Snape would be delighted if he came back in here right now," she responded, getting up from her seat and haphazardly throwing books into her bag. "He'd say, 'What do we have here, the Boy Who Lived and the Circus Freak.'"

"Emily," he said, trying to calm her down.

"Don't Emily me," she growled, "Why don't you go back to your GRYFFINDORS." As she said the last word, the sound of shattering glass streaked through the room. All the empty potions bottles Snape had lining the walls had shattered into tiny shards. "Oh my god!" She exclaimed, falling down into her chair, staring at the mess on the floor. "Did I..."

"I think so," Harry answered, taking a few steps towards her. He kneeled down next to her, and looked up into her face.

"I don't know what's going on," she whispered, still staring beyond Harry at the shattered glass.

"Don't worry about it. So, you light up like an A-bomb with a little Luminas potion. I'm sure worse things have happened." As he waited for her response, he removed his wand and cast a reversing spell, effectively restoring the empty bottles to their shelves.

"You don't understand. It's not just this, there're other things too. This is just a piece of it all."

"What are you talking about? What else is going on?" he asked. She took her eyes off the newly repaired bottles and turned her head down to face him. He could feel her searching his face, her eyes darting back and forth.

"Oh, it's nothing. I think I'm just having a nervous break down. Or maybe just adjustment stress." She forced a smile across her face, and then leant forward and kissed him on the nose. "It's a lot to take in all at once; moving to a new country, starting at a new school."

"I know how you feel. I spent my entire life thinking I was a Muggle and that my parents died in a car crash. Then I was suddenly thrown into...well...this," he said, looking around the potions room. When he turned his gaze back to her, he saw that she was staring at him again. She reached up her hand, and trailed it down the side of his cheek.

"Will you promise me something?" she asked. Harry looked into her eyes; she no longer looked lost, but determined. He nodded. "Promise me you'll never doubt me again."

"Doubt you again?"

"Don't play stupid with me," she whispered, the look of determination still plastered across her face. "I could see it in the way you looked away from me. In the way you got up and left the classroom without even a goodbye." Harry felt his stomach twisting as he realized how horribly he had acted.

"I'm sorry," he whispered back.

"I know. Just promise me you won't do it again. Promise me that no matter what happens, you'll always believe in me."

"Emily, what are you talking about?"

"Harry!" she practically screamed before toning her voice down a bit to add, "Just promise!"

"OK, I promise."

"Good." And this was the first time he saw a real smile flash across her face. "So, guess you missed most of Herbology didn't you. By the time you get all the way out to the greenhouses class will practically be over."

"Yeah, suppose you're right," Harry answered. He felt Emily place her hands on his knees, and then lean forward, sliding her hands up his thighs. Before he knew it, her face was about five inches away from his.

"Snape is covering Prof. Monahan's Defense Against the Dark Arts class this period you know? Probably won't be back for a half hour or so." Her eyes were moving up and down, from his eyes, to his lips, back to his eyes again. She was really quite seductive when she wanted to be, he thought. Then, he corrected himself, she's seductive all the bloody time.

"Really?" he said, leaning in closer to her. Just enough so they weren't touching. "And what exactly are you proposing, Ms. Waters?"

"I think you know exactly what I'm proposing," she responded, bridging the gap between them, and placing her lips softly onto his.

* * * *

"I can't believe he skived off class," Ron said, pulling up the roots of the Whomping Willow seedling he was transplanting.

"I'm sure he had a good reason," Hermione answered, pulling her hand back just in time to miss a coordinated attack from the two willows she had sitting in front of her. They were only about four inches tall, but they thrashed about so fast that they could easily break your finger in two. She reached forward and grabbed one of the cloths Prof. Sprout had given to each student. She draped it over the thrashing seedling and quickly cupped both her hands around it, preventing it from moving. She looked around, and saw the rope she was supposed to tie it with sitting in the center of the table. "Can you give me a hand here Ron."

Ron looked up from his own seedling, and she could see a bemused look on his face.

"In a bit of a jam?" he asked, pushing his debilitated seedling to the side and reaching across the table, securely fastening the cloth around the seedling with the rope. He then sat back on his side of the table, retrieving another flogging seedling, and continuing with their previous conversation. "If you ask me, he's off with her."

Hermione considered this for a second, and realized he was probably right. "Well, I'm sure there's a good reason for why he hasn't come back yet, even if he is with Emily."

"I just don't like her," Ron said, aggressively shoving his bound and gagged seedling into its new pot. "Especially after what happened in class today."

"I know. But we promised Harry we'd..."

"What does he know? Think about it Hermione, do you really think he's using rational thought when he thinks about her?" He then raised an eyebrow at her. She both loved and hated the way he could do that. It was so cute, and yet so definitive.

"Ron, he was right. We don't know her as well as he does."

"And how well does he know her exactly? I bet she could hex him a thousand times and he'd still think she was innocent."

"You have a point," Hermione agreed, wrapping her last seedling with a cloth and rope. She then looked up at Ron. "How powerful do you think she really is?" Hermione asked, leaning across the table and whispering. Ron leaned forward too.

"I couldn't see anything, could you?"

"No, I was blinded by it."

"Harry glowed pretty brightly, and everyone knows he's pretty bloody powerful. But the way she lit up, it was a hundred times brighter than Harry. It goes along with the wandless magic thing, don't you think?"

"That would make sense. I went to the library the other day, trying to find the book I read about it in."

"Couldn't find it?"

"I searched everywhere. I don't even remember how I stumbled across it in the first place. I just skimmed it at the time," Hermione said, mentally slapping herself in the back of the head. She looked around the room, and noticed that a group of Hufflepuffs was staring at them. As soon as they saw she was looking, they all looked away. "That's odd."

"What's odd?" Ron asked, turning around and looking at the group of students, who were now busying themselves over their Whomping Willows.

"They were all looking over here a few seconds ago," she answered, turning her attention back towards Ron. "You don't think..." she began, thinking back to the night they had gone to the party.

"Nah. I heard them talking before. They're talking about the Quidditch match this weekend and whether I'll be playing in it or not."

"Oh," she said, and then she realized what he had said. "The game's this weekend?" she added, smiling.

"Yeah," he said, looking down at the desk. That's odd, she thought to herself. Why isn't he happy? "Are you playing?" She asked.

"Yeah." He still looked down at the table, fidgeting with his hands.

"So, shouldn't this be something you're thrilled about. I mean, correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't your brain revolve around Quidditch in some way or another for at least 50% of your waking hours?" she teased with a grin. He didn't react. "Ron, what's wrong?"

"I'm just a little nervous," he answered.

"Nervous? Ron, this is your moment, it's what you've been waiting for."

"Yeah, and when I fall off my broom in front of the entire school - "

"Ron," Hermione interrupted. "Don't be silly. You're a great flyer. I should know, you're the only person I'd fly with." Except maybe Harry, but she chose to leave that part out of her statement.

"You have to say that--you're my girlfriend," he answered, finally looking up from his hands. Hermione was momentarily taken aback.

"I am?" She asked, not turning away from his eyes. He seemed to get a little uncomfortable.

"Er...aren't you?"

"I guess so" she said, smiling. "I just never really thought about it like that. I mean, with the title and all."

"That's what you want right?" he asked, a hint of uneasiness in his voice.

"Well, yeah. It just sounds strange to hear it out loud. Me being your girlfriend."

"Strange in a good way?"

"Yes," she said broadening her smile, "in a good way."

* * * *

Most of the school was already seated in the stadium by the time Emily got out to the stands. She took a seat next to Millicent, and marveled at the sight of all the students sitting around her. It was packed. She instantly spotted Ron's sister sitting in the Gryffindor section next to Hermione. They were talking excitedly with other members of their house. Emily wished she could go over to sit with them, especially when she saw who Millicent was waving over to the empty seat next to her. After the incident in potions the other day, they had been on much better terms. She didn't necessarily despise him as much as she had before, but she still didn't all together trust him.

"Good morning," he said, brushing some dirt off the seat before he sat down. Figures, she thought to herself, he would be a dirt freak.

"'Morning Draco," she answered, scooting over a bit towards Millicent.

"What a wonderful day to watch the Gryffindors get their arses kicked," he hummed, extracting a pair of green gloves from his robe pocket, and placing them delicately onto his fingers.

"And what makes you think they're getting their asses kicked?" she asked.

"Now, I know your little boy toy is a member of the team. But we have to be realistic here. Even if Mr. Fabulous manages to get the Snitch, the losses they'll suffer from the lack of talent from his little sidekick will certainly put a huge dent in their score."

"Is he that bad?"

"Well, I've never actually seen him play. Consider it an educated guess, based on evidence from his otherwise brainless behavior."

"Do you ever say anything nice about people?" Emily asked snidely.

"Behind their backs? No," he answered, scanning the field below him. "You fly well, have you ever thought of playing for the house team?" Emily looked at him in surprise.

"Do you follow me around?!" she asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Don't flatter yourself, Em. Let's just say I've got my sources. So, how 'bout it."

"How 'bout what?"

"The team," he said, clapping his gloved hands together, "Come on, work with me here."

"Draco, I've never played before. And, the team's full, isn't it?"

"It's never really full if there's someone better."

"Typical Slytherin philosophy."

"Always have to have the best."

"I'll think about it," she answered. She didn't want to admit it, but the idea of playing was actually quite tempting. She missed having something constructive to do with her time. At least back home she could go off and hang out with her friends. Here, well, she was expected to hang out with people from her house. Enough said.

"Oh, and before I forget. Are you going to Hogsmeade this afternoon?"

"Uh, yeah. Why?"

"With Potter?"

"I don't see how my plans for this afternoon have anything to do with you. Plus, since you seem to know everything else about me, you should know the answer to whether I'm going with Harry or not. Shouldn't you?"

"A simple yes or no would have sufficed," he answered, turning his attention away from her and looking out over the pitch. "Oh, look, the game is starting." Emily stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out exactly what his deal was. As much as it irked her that he seemed to know everything about her, she also found it somewhat soothing. If she didn't know what was going on, it was at least nice to know that someone else did.

Emily looked away from Draco, and out onto the pitch just in time to see Harry fly from the locker rooms. He was dressed in a crimson uniform with leather padding in strategic places. His cloak was draped out behind him, and it flapped in the wind as he flew past. Both teams formed a circle in the middle of the field, Harry, and what Emily supposed was the Hufflepuff seeker, hovering about ten feet above them. Emily saw a short woman dressed in a gray and white uniform similar to Harry's walk out to the middle of the pitch carrying a large trunk. She placed the trunk on the ground in the middle of the circle, and as soon as she flung it open, four balls came flying out. As they soared through the air, she heard a deafening cheer from the crowd, the faint blowing of a whistle, and the game began.

It moved so fast that Emily could hardly keep up with all the action. The first thing she realized was that the little golden ball, which must have been the Snitch by Harry's description of it, had disappeared almost as soon as it left the trunk. Emily watched as one of the Gryffindor girls took hold of the large red ball and began speeding down the field, passing it to another Gryffindor girl, who then lobbed the ball high into the air towards the opposing teams goals. Just before the Hufflepuff goalkeeper grabbed the ball, a blur of red went whizzing past, and she saw the ball pass through the center hoop.

"Weasley scores for Gryffindor, score ten to zero," the announcer called.

The crowd across the stadium erupted in cheering, as did Emily, until she realized everyone else around her was silent, so she sat back down, continuing to watch the game in silence.

The Hufflepuffs had possession now, and the player with the ball was speeding up the sidelines, two other players in front of him blocking the Gryffindor chasers from stealing the ball away. They were nearing the Gryffindor goal posts, and it looked like they were going to score, when suddenly a large, black thing came hurdling from out of no where, knocking the ball out of the player's hands, where it was quickly snatched up by Ron. Emily looked to where the black ball had come from, and saw Ron's twin brothers giving each other a high five before zooming off in opposite directions.

"After that great steal assisted by Fred Weasley, Ron Weasley takes possession of the Quaffle again. He passes it to Johnson. She ducks just in time to avoid a head-on collision with McMillan, she has a clear path towards the right goal, oh no, watch out!"

Emily watched as two Hufflepuffs streaked in front of Angelina, forcing her to turn so sharply she dropped the ball. It fell a few feet, both Hufflepuffs barreling to reach it...

"The Quaffle is lost, soon to be retrieved by...oh wait...would you look at that...Spinnet comes from out of now where...and....SHE SCORES. Twenty to zero, Gryffindor."

Emily turned her attention towards Draco, who didn't seem to be enjoying himself. Just then she heard the crowd erupt in cheering again, she quickly turned back to the game, and realized the score was now thirty to zero.

The game continued in this high-paced fashion, Ron scored seven more goals, and the Gryffindor keeper only let three goals go unchecked. Every once in a while, Emily would glance up, and see Harry floating around above all the action, closely followed by the Hufflepuff seeker. Occasionally, he would go streaking down to the ground, arousing muffled cries from the crowd who thought he'd seen the Snitch, but each time he would pull back up again, and continue to float about.

"Still think Gryffindor is going to suffer some ass-kicking?" Emily asked through the side of her mouth in the direction of Draco. She didn't dare take her eyes off the game for fear she'd miss something important. "From the looks of things, I'd say your educated guess was more of an unsubstantiated blunder."

"It's not over yet," Draco retorted. Emily was about to respond, when she suddenly saw a glint of gold flitter along the sideline, about a foot off the pitch. She narrowed her eyes, and quickly realized it was the Snitch. She looked up, and saw that Harry had seen it too, because he was in a vertical dive, streaming towards the ground. Her heart began to pound as she watched him, resisting the urge to cover her eyes just in case he didn't pull up in time. Everyone else on the pitch seemed to stop flying in mid air as they watched him go, followed at a distance by the other seeker. He then grabbed hold of the tiny ball, and pulled out of his dive, flying high into the air, holding the ball up over his head.

"280 to 40, Gryffindor Win!" boomed the commentator. Emily jumped out of her seat, only vaguely aware that no one else in the Slytherin section had done the same. But she didn't care. She was screaming at the top of her lungs, watching Harry do his victory lap around the field before landing on the pitch to be joined by all his teammates. Emily watched as the other Gryffindors went running down the stands and onto the field. She turned around and looked at all the sullen faces that surrounded her. I don't belong here.

With that last thought, Emily started to push her way down her row of seats, politely excusing herself as she ran into the legs of the students she passed. As soon as she hit the aisle, she broke out into a run, and tore out onto the field.

As she approached the mob of students, she was suddenly hit with the realization of how strange she probably looked: a Slytherin running out onto the field after a Gryffindor win. She hesitated for a moment, slowing down her run to a walk.

"Emily!" She heard someone call her from the mass of students in front of her, she didn't see who it was for a moment, and then Hermione came running out to her. "We won!" she yelled.

"I know!" she yelled back. "Ron played a great game!"

"I know. Can you believe he's been dreading this game all week because he was so nervous about messing up in front of everyone!"

"Are you serious? Well, he needn't have worried. I think even Draco was impressed." Hermione looked over at Emily with a shocked expression, and then broke out laughing.

"I don't believe it." She said, bending over and holding her stomach with her arm, laughing so hard she couldn't stand up straight.

"Yeah, he had it all planned that Hufflepuff would beat the crap out of you guys, even went as far as to say that Ron would personally lose the game." Emily then paused for effect. "You should have seen his face when Ron scored the first goal!" At this, they both keeled over laughing. "Hey, have you seen Harry?" Emily asked.

"Oh, they'll emerge from the pile in a few minutes. They have to be properly crushed by the mob of fans before they'll get a chance to see us."

"Oh, all in a day's work of a Quidditch star I suppose," Emily said, still chuckling a bit along with Hermione. "So, what are the new developments between you and Ron anyways?" she asked, cocking her head to the side and looking at Hermione.

"I should be asking the same thing about you and Harry," Hermione responded, also tilting her head to the side.

Emily was about to respond, when suddenly something flew past her, grabbed her around the waste, and hauled her off the ground. She didn't even have time to react, she just grabbed on to anything she could, clamping her eyes closed, and trying as hard as possible not to panic.

"You can open your eyes now," came Harry's voice from what sounded like three inches away from her head. She opened up one of her eyes and looked around. She was flying through the air, sitting sideways on Harry's broomstick.

"Don't do that Harry!" She fake yelled, releasing her grip on his shoulders and grabbing hold of the broom in front of her. She then slid one of her legs over to the other side, such that she was straddling the broom like a normal flyer would.

"Couldn't resist." Harry answered, leaning forward and kissing her neck.

"My, my. Aren't we a little presumptuous today." She teased, leaning back and turning her head up so that he could kiss her. "By the way, that was a great game. I had no idea how much fun it would be."

"You should play you know, it's a hundred times better to be on the field instead of watching it from the stands."

"Funny you should say that..." she said, taking his hand and wrapping it around her waist so that she could steer.

"Funny how?"

"Well, Draco all but handed me a uniform today before the game."

"What? He wants you to play for them, on their house team?"

"I am a Slytherin. It would be their house team that I'd play on if I played."

"True, but, how does he know you fly so well?" She thought about her answer to this question. She wasn't quite sure she wanted to tell Harry that Draco seemed to just know things about her. Deciding to avoid the question, she pulled up the nose of the broom and did a little loop-de-loop, feeling Harry clutch tightly around her stomach. "Okay, that has a completely different feeling when I'm not the one steering!" Harry said, shaking his head behind her.

She slowly lowered them to the ground, noticing that most of the students had cleared off the pitch. Emily landed next to Ron, Hermione and Ginny who seemed to be waiting around for them.

"Congratulations Ron," Emily said as she got off the broom, making sure Harry had a good grip on it before she let go.

"Thanks," he responded. "Harry, want to change before we head into Hogsmeade?"

"Sure," Harry responded. As he walked past her, Emily distinctly thought she felt Harry pat her butt as he walked by. Hmm, she thought, he gets more interesting every day.

"Hey, wait!" Ginny called after them, running forward a little to keep up.

"What's she doing?" Emily asked Hermione.

"I haven't a clue," she responded. They both watched as Ginny said a few things to them, and followed both boys into the locker room. A few seconds later, she came running back out with three brooms in her hand. "Oh no," Hermione said, putting her hands up in front of her and backing away from Ginny as she approached.

"Come on Hermione, we'll just fly around a bit while we wait. There's nothing to run into, you don't even have to go more then 3 feet off the ground." Ginny said, handing Harry's broom to Emily. "Please?" Ginny pleaded, holding out the last broom towards Hermione. She seemed to stare at it for a moment, and then reluctantly took hold of the handle. "Good!" Ginny squealed, swinging her leg over her broom and kicking off into the air. Hermione just stood there, staring at the broom.

"I'll fly next to you, that way, if you freak out, I can catch you." Emily said, stepping over the stick of the broom, and sitting down, controlling her broom just right so that she could pick her feet up off the ground, but her head didn't even rise an inch.

"That's OK" Hermione said, finally slipping her leg over the broom. "I'm just going to have to get over my fear of it all. I can't be a witch and not be able to fly a broomstick, now can I?"

"Now, that's the spirit!" Ginny called out as she whizzed past them both.

"Uhg, I wish she didn't do that." Hermione said, as she kicked off the ground and soared, shakily, up into the air. Emily flew up after her, eventually banking to the right and taking off after Ginny. Harry wasn't kidding when he said that his broom was better then Malfoy's, she thought as she flew. It was as if the broom was responding to her thoughts rather then her actual movements.

"So, you play Quidditch?" Ginny asked as Emily approached her.

"Nope. Never played before. This is only my fourth time on a broom in fact" she responded, flying underneath Ginny and pulling out in front of her. "You?"

"Only in the summer against my family" Ginny responded, rounding the goalposts next to Emily. "You're quite good for someone who's only just learned," Ginny yelled over the wind. Just then, Hermione came flying at them. Ginny and Emily both did a one-eighty twist in the air, such that they were flying on either side of Hermione now.

"I wish I could fly like you two," she said. Emily looked down and realized Hermione's arms were locked in their joints, straight out over the broom, and that her hands were gripping the broom as if for dear life.

"Why don't you relax a little," Emily suggested, flying in a little closer to Hermione. "Lean back and support yourself on your ass instead of leaning forward with your arms." She added, and watched as Hermione slowly leaned back, releasing some of the grip she had on the broom.

"Like this?"

"Yeah, just like that," she responded.

They flew a few more times around the pitch before they saw that the boys had emerged from the locker room, along with a boy Emily recognized as the Gryffindor Keeper.
The three of them flew to the ground, and handed their brooms back to their rightful owners, Ginny handed hers over to the boy.

"Thanks Dean," she said.

"Any time," he responded, turning around and walking back towards the locker room.

"Hey Dean, can you put ours in there too?" Ron asked, grabbing Harry's broom from out of his hand and handing it over to the boy. Dean nodded, and turned back around again, walking away from them.

"Shall we?" Harry asked, offering his arm to Emily. She slid her arm through his, and they all started their trek down to the village.

* * * *
Draco took his time as he walked back to the Slytherin common room. Crabbe and Goyle were busying themselves in an argument over which one of them could beat the other in a duel. Draco guessed they'd both stun themselves before they even had a chance at striking each other. They were loyal friends, Crabbe and Goyle, but they weren't very good company.

"I would hit you with a leg locker curse," Crabbe yelled at Goyle.

"Then I'd stun you." Goyle retorted back.

"No. I'd disarm you before you could stun me."

"No. I'd disarm you before you could disarm me before I'd stun you."

"Yeah, well, I'd disarm you before you could disarm me before I could disarm you - "

"Will you both just shut the bloody hell up!" Draco screamed, having had enough of listening to his moron friends. They both stared at him, and walked the rest of the way back to the dungeons in silence.

As they entered the common room, Draco grumbled something to his friends and went off to seek refuge in his room. Ah, he thought as he walked down the hallway and stood in front of his door, Finally. A place where I can be alone and not deal with insufferable gits.

He rested his hand on the doorknob as he reached into his pocket for his wand to unlock the door. However, much to his surprise, his door creaked open. He hesitated for a moment, then removed his wand and flung the door open. The room appeared empty, so he took a few steps forward, allowing the door to shut behind him.

"She didn't answer my owl yesterday," came a voice from behind Draco. He spun around and saw a short, plump wizard that he recognized immediately. He dropped his wand hand to his side.

"You know, it must run in the family, breaking and entering." Draco said casually as he removed his cloak and hung it on a hanger in his wardrobe. He then walked over to his desk chair, sat down, and swung around to face his guest. "What do you want?"

"I sent her an owl yesterday instructing her to meet me this morning, she never showed."

"And this surprises you?"

"I waited out there for over an hour, and these two girls almost saw me..."

"Oh, pity." Draco said in mock empathy. "But I fail to see how this has anything to do with me."

"You're supposed to be watching her."

"Yes, and I am watching her. Her ignoring your owl has nothing to do with my role in all of this." The other man seemed to consider him for a moment.

"You're arrogant for a such a little boy," the wizard retorted. "You may want to rethink your disrespect for superiors once you are fully initiated as a death eater."

"I'll keep that in mind," Draco responded offhandedly, looking down at his fingernails. His superior? Draco knew very well that the only reason this man had been tolerated all this time was because of his connection with Emily.

"I must speak with her today" the wizard said, taking a step forward, a hint of pleading in his voice. Draco was momentarily embarrassed for this sad excuse for a wizard.

"She's in Hogsmeade," Draco said. He then smiled and added, "With her boyfriend."

"Her what?" The wizard said, and Draco could instantly see he had struck a nerve. "Seems she's become rather close with someone quite interesting."

"She's been here for 2 weeks, and she's already involved with some bloke" the wizard said, running his hands through his hair and pacing the room. "Her mother warned me about this," he continued, and Draco simply sat back, enjoying the agitated look on his face. "Who is it?"

"Are you sure you don't want to guess?"

"God damn it boy, who the bloody hell is it?"

"Well, when you put it that way. It appears she's taken a fancy to Mr. Potter."

"Potter?" the wizard asked, the anger slowly draining from his face. "She's with Potter?"

"'Seems so. Quite frankly, I don't see what she sees in him, out of all the guys - "

"This is most interesting." The wizard cut off Draco's comment.

"I figured you'd think as much."

"Do you think we could use this 'budding relationship' to our advantage?"

"My, my. We are ruthless," Draco said. "But, yes, I'm sure this could be a very positive addition to the Dark Lords plans."

"So, she's in Hogsmeade now with Potter?"

"I saw them walking down to the village after the Quidditch match."

"Are they alone?"

"No. There are three other students with them. Five in total."

"I'll have to be discreet." The man said as he turned to leave the room. Draco heard him mutter a quiet "thanks" in his direction before disappearing into the hallway.

* * * *

"This place is so charming!" Emily exclaimed, her eyes wide with amazement. "Not a single Muggle lives here?"

"Not a one!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Wow. I've heard of places like this, but never actually been to one. There aren't any in the States."

"Not even one?" Ron asked, as though he hardly thought that could be possible.

"Nope, not a one. The DOM, Department of Magic, has this obsession with Muggle integration. They think we should *all live together*," she answered in a singsong manner. "It's actually a little frightening that you all live so segregated. I mean, magic's fun an all, but you really miss out on a lot."

"Oh we do, do we?" Ron said, finding this hard to believe, "Like what?"

"Like, Muggle music," she said, holding up her right hand and counting off her pinky. "And computers," her ring finger, "and clothes," her middle finger, "And TV," her pointer finger, "and football - "

"We have Quidditch," Ron interjected.

"Yeah, but in America we also have football, and basketball, and baseball - "

"Who wants to watch football, it's just a bunch of guys kicking around a ball on the ground - "

"First of all, that's soccer. Second, by cutting off an entire culture, you're missing out on a lot. Muggles may seem boring, but they're very innovative."

"I wish Britain adopted a similar view on Muggle/Wizard interactions," Hermione said, looking up at Ron. He suddenly found his side of the argument dull and uninteresting.

"I suppose," he said, staring into her eyes. He very hazily heard Harry mutter a muffled "pathetic" under his breath as they strolled into the Three Broomsticks.

"You girls go take a seat and we'll get you drinks, okay?" Harry said, parting with Emily for the first time since they'd left the Quidditch pitch. It was strange seeing Harry so publicly attracted to a girl. While Harry had briefly dated Cho Chang, they were never open about their relationship. They would sneak around after hours, but Ron had the suspicion that nothing much happened behind those closed doors. Both of them were constantly haunted by their connection with Cedric, and everyone knew a relationship between them was doomed. But, seeing Harry with Emily, Ron had a completely different view of his best friend.

As soon as the girls were out of sight, Ron broached the topic.

"So, you and Emily?" he asked, hoping to prompt the conversation.
"Yeah, I guess," Harry replied, waving his hand and trying to get Madame Rosmerta's attention to no avail.

"She certainly is attractive." Ron added hesitantly.

"Yeah," Harry muttered, turning his head and giving Ron a rather pointed look. "But she's also fun to be around," he added, leaning up against the bar and looking at Ron. "So, you and Hermione?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "That took long enough!"

"Tell me about it," Ron said, shifting uncomfortably. This wasn't where this conversation was supposed to be going. In an attempt to get things back in gear, Ron added, "So, how well do you really know her?"

"Who, Hermione?"

"No, Emily!"

"Oh, Emily. Well, pretty well I'd say. Why?"

"And, there's nothing about her that bothers you?" Ron said in the least accusatory tone he could.

"Like?"

"Well, I don't know. Maybe the way she seems to have superhuman powers?" Ron responded innocently.

"Ron, we all have superhuman powers, that's why we're magical."

"OK, we may be magical, but she is freakishly magical."

"Did you just call her a freak?" Harry asked, narrowing his eyes, and then softening into a little chuckle. Ron felt his cheeks turn red as he, too, chuckled. "So, what are you really trying to ask me? Are you back on the 'she's weird, and we don't trust her' issue again? Because I thought we settled that the other day."

"I can't help it, something's not right about her. I can feel it."

"Last time I checked, divination was your worst subject. So, you'll have to excuse me as I ignore your inner eye."

"Sure, fine. Poke fun at me. It's the last time I bring it up," he said, turning towards the table of girls in the back of the bar. "I just hope you're right."

"I am right," he answered, finally getting Madame Rosmerta's attention.

"How can I help you boys?" she asked.

"We'll have five butterbeers," answered Harry, placing two galleons onto the bar. "And, can you bring them over to us, we're sitting in the back."

"Five butterbeers coming right up," she answered with a wink.

The boys walked back to the table, Harry sliding in next to Emily, Ron next to Hermione.

"So what did you guys get us?" Emily asked rubbing her hands together in front of her.

"Butterbeer," Ron responded.

"Oh good. I heard about it from Pansy the other day, it sounds so warm and fuzzy."
Ron noticed that everyone at the table looked at her with a weird expression. In his own thoughts, Ron was thinking, did she just say warm and fuzzy?

"You've never had butterbeer before?" Ginny asked.

"No, we don't have it in the states. We stick to Muggle products." She answered matter-of-factly.

Just then, Madame Rosmerta walked over to the table carrying a tray with five frothy butterbeers on it. She handed them around the table, and then looked over at Emily, "Is your name Emily?" She asked. Emily nodded her head, and Madame Rosmerta removed a folded piece of parchment from her apron. "Gentleman over there asked me to give this to you," she said, nodding her head in the direction of the door. Everyone at the table turned around to look to where she was nodding. Ron saw a booth with one man, hooded, and facing the door so that they couldn't see his face.

"Thank you," Emily said in a somber tone, and Madame Rosmerta turned and walked away. Emily just sat there, looking at the note as it lay in front of her on the table.

"Are you going to open it?" Harry asked. Ron saw her give Harry a quick glance before unfolding the letter. She scanned it quickly, and then folded it shut again, preventing even Harry from leaning over and getting a look at what it said.

"I have to go," she said, taking a big swig of her butterbeer. When she finished, she had a white foam ring around her mouth that she quickly wiped away with the sleeve of her robe. "Um, I guess I'll meet you guys back up at the castle," she added.

"You have to go? Why? Who's the letter from?" Harry asked. Ron could tell he was agitated. As he should be! Ron thought to himself.

"Leave it to him to ruin what should have been a really fun afternoon," she grumbled in response.

"Leave it to who?" Ron, Hermione and Harry asked in unison. Ron looked over at Ginny, who seemed to be just staring at Emily.

"My father," she shrugged, nudging Harry to get up so that she could get out of her seat. He didn't budge. Ron dropped his jaw, as did everyone else at the table.

"You're father?" Harry finally managed to say. "You're dad is here?"

"Yeah, well," she began but paused here. She looked down at the parchment she was holding in her hand, and then back up at Harry. "Guess he misses his little girl," she said a little sheepishly. Ron got the distinct impression there was more to it then that.

"But..."

"Harry, I'm sorry. I promise I'll see you later on tonight," she assured, still nudging him to get out of her way. He finally relented, and let her out of her seat. "Thanks," she said, leaning down and kissing his forehead before turning back to the rest of them at the table. "I hope you guys have fun today, can you pick me up some stuff from the candy store?" They all nodded, and she walked off towards the hooded figure who stood as soon as she reached him, and they both exited the bar.

* * * *

Emily walked down the street next to her father in complete silence. She was silently fuming at his audacity to pluck her away from her friends like this, but knew that the middle of a crowded street wasn't the place to start screaming at him. She would wait.

They walked all the way to the end of the high street, and past a stone wall, onto the property surrounding a run down old house. The windows were shattered and cracked, and the roof appeared to be caving in. Emily hesitated before following her father up the rickety stairs that lead to the porch. What is this place?

Her father pushed in the door, and advanced into the house. Emily followed, and saw they were in a large foyer, strewn with broken furniture. The door slammed behind her, making her jump.

"You didn't meet me this morning," he said, not turning to face her, but instead looking around the room to see if anyone else was there. Emily thought it was quite obvious the house had been empty for years.

"Sorry about that," Emily answered sarcastically. She had gotten the owl late last night, and immediately decided she was going to ignore it. Who did he think he was anyways, demanding her to meet him again? After she spoke, her father turned around and removed his hood, then his cloak entirely. He was dressed as he usually was, all in black. Right down to his hands, which sported black leather gloves.

"Why don't I believe that?" he asked, walking out of the foyer and into the room to the right. Emily followed.

"You apparently know me better then I thought. Fifteen years of absence hasn't warped your parental insight," she retorted, narrowing her eyes at him. "Are you going to tell me what this is all about?"

"In time. First, why don't you have a seat?" Emily looked around the room at all the broken down furniture. "Yes, not exactly the coziest place," he remarked after seeing her face.

"Not exactly," she agreed, walking over to one of the pillows strewn on the floor and plopping down on top of it. Her father selected the edge of the disheveled couch.

"I have to speak with you about your initiation," he said, folding his hands in his lap.

"My initiation? Into that cult you belong to," she scowled.

"You're initiation into the service of the Dark Lord, yes."

"Are you joking? I wouldn't go near you and your acquaintances with a ten foot pole!"

"Yes you will."

"No I WON'T!" She screamed. "Who the fuck do you think you are? I don't even believe this. Forcing me to hang out with your little friends."

"You will do as I ask of you," he demanded, his tone stern but measured.

"I most certainly will NOT do as you ask of me," she responded, rising from her pillow, "You forfeited the right to order me around when you disappeared from my life fifteen years ago!"

"It was for the best."

"The best for what? For you? Because it certainly wasn't the best for me!"

"It was the best. For both of us."

"Well, why don't you clue me into your decision making process then Peter," she responded.

"Must you call me that?"

"What else would you have me call you? Dad? Because, sorry, that's not going to work."

"I'm sorry to have caused you so much hatred."

"You have no clue how much hatred you've caused me!" she yelled back, surprised at the force in her voice. "NO IDEA!" They both stood there for a moment. Emily fuming as she stood in front of her father.

"About the initiation," he continued. "It is coming up soon and...."

"I'm not going!" she yelled at him in mid sentence. He ignored her interruption and continued to speak.

"...I will send someone to fetch you around ten that evening..."

"Did you hear me? I said I'm not going."

"The decision is not yours. If you fail to come willingly, measures will be taken," he responded.

"Measures? Measures will be taken? I don't believe this!" she shouted, reaching out her hand and causing a lamp on the table next to her father to fly across the room and smash against the opposite wall.

"Emily," he said, putting up his hands in front of him, as if to calm her.

"Peter," she scowled back, placing her hands on her hips and staring at her father.

"I told you NOT to call me that!" he yelled back, standing up so that he was looking down at Emily. It was the first time his voice had raised above a casual drawl since they'd entered the shack. Emily felt her courage leak out of her. "I will send you an owl about the exact date, and I expect you to comply accordingly."

She looked up into his face, and saw the seriousness in it.

"What's going on, Dad?" she asked, aware that her voice was shaking. "Why is it so important that I have to become a death eater?"

"It is what you were born to do," he responded.

"What do you mean? I don't understand any of this!" He took a deep breath, and sighed.

"A few months into your mother's pregnancy with you, another child was born. A child who, according to a prophecy, would one day rise and defeat the Dark Lord," he began turning and pacing the room. Emily stood in her tracks, watching her father intently. "The child was born to the Dark Lords most adamant enemies, and there was no way to ensure that the child could be defeated, or brought over to the become one of us. When we learned of the prophecy surrounding this child, we panicked." He paused and looked at Emily. "Until you were born," he added, resuming his pacing. "We had come across an ancient ritual that had been lost to the wizarding world for hundreds of years. A ritual that would give a newborn child the power to yield magic in a way that was so potent, they would be virtually undefeatable. This was the answer we had been waiting for, a chance to create something that could obliterate the boy that was meant to destroy our master. When the Dark Lord approached me, asking me to give my unborn child to him for this purpose, I accepted."

"You what?" Emily heard herself scream. She wasn't in the right frame of mind. She was livid with anger.

"We performed the ceremony moments after your birth, and when your mother found out, she was enraged. So enraged, that she refused to accept that the ritual had worked, she insisted that you were a normal child, and would grow up to be a normal witch. Just before your first birthday, she decided she couldn't live with me anymore, after what I had done, and she fled during the night, moving to America. The Dark Lord was furious at this turn of events, but was soon placated when I proposed an alternative plan. You see, the family that the boy had been born to were...acquaintances of mine, and had no clue about my involvement with the Death Eaters. They were aware that the Dark Lord was closing in on them, and were planning on going into hiding under the Fidelius charm." He turned his attention towards Emily now, "Are you aware of the Fidelius charm." She nodded, and he continued with his story. "Oddly enough, they selected me to be their secret-keeper. I was then able to disclose their location to my master, who decided to destroy the boy before he had a chance to grow into a formidable wizard. However, this plan didn't go so well."

"Oh my god!" Emily gasped, finally comprehending what her father was saying. "You're talking about..." but she couldn't say his name; she was too horrified.

"When our master tried to destroy him, something unexpected happened, and he lost all of his powers, practically left for dead. In fact, most members of the community believed he was dead. I was in a difficult position. Only one person knew that I was the Potters' secret-keeper, a man by the name of Sirius Black." Emily gasped. "You've heard of him."

"Sort of."

"He had the power to destroy me. I was suddenly in a position of being linked to the deaths of one of the most prominent wizarding families. So, I did the only thing I could do. I faked my own death, pinning it on Sirius. After that, I had to go into hiding. I was constantly awaiting the return of my master, and two years ago, it happened. I found him and helped him restore himself to his original body and full power. And that was when we turned our attention back towards you," he said, looking at Emily. She stared at her father, not quite grasping the information he had revealed to her. Her father was a murderer. A servant of a Dark Lord. He had handed her over to his master, given her powers beyond comprehension, with the purpose of destroying someone. Destroying Harry.

"I don't believe any of this," she responded, throwing her hands up in the air. "You can't possibly expect me to go along with all of this."

"You are bound to the one who gave you your powers," he responded, "you will not be able to refuse."

"What?"

"He who created you can control you. You will not be able to resist his commands once in his presence."

"So I'm just some tool, some weapon for destruction?"

"You have the potential to be a powerful ally. That is why I am here."

"Explain."

"Should you willingly carry out the desires of our master, you will be rewarded. I have no doubts that you will quickly climb the ranks."

"I get it. If I refuse, I will be forced to do things and will live a life beyond my control. But if I accept, and become a good little dark witch, I will retain my life and my ability to make my own decisions."

"Correct."

"And I have to make that decision by when?"

"Before your initiation."

"Anything else?"

"No, I believe that is all."

"Good," she responded, turning around and walking out of the room, through the foyer and onto the battered old porch. She walked blindly back to the castle, only somewhat aware of the people she was crashing into. As soon as she got back, she walked straight to her dorm, and collapsed onto her bed. What am I going to do?

* * * *