From Far Away

Harry woke up bright and early the next day. Actually, it wasn't bright at all at the hour that he awoke. Harry Potter tried to get back to sleep, but now that his subconscious mind couldn't tone out the non-rhythmic snores of his bedmates (Ron and Neville were particularly bad), Harry decided to grab his Firebolt and head for the field.

He slowly crept out of the castle (the Fat Lady grunted and positioned herself to sleep again) and onto the Quidditch field. The dew on the grass shone in the breaking dawn like thousands of tiny little faeries on a winter holiday. Harry took in the deep scent of the field; it was frosty and clear and so wonderful.

Getting slowly on his broomstick so as to take in the entire effect, Harry watched the sun break through the bonds that held it beneath the ground. The effect was stunning and quite beautiful. Harry rose a few feet off the ground before deciding that the sun went up every morning and he could watch it some other time.

Harry meditated while in the air. He was going the fastest that the broom would go and thinking about Hedwig. How on earth had she gotten that injury? Of course, it wasn't too bad; Harry had taken her to a pet healer while in Diagon Alley along with handing her over to Hagrid to keep the wound from reopening. However, that wasn't the point.

Were it a dog or wolf, there would have been more than just one gash on her chest; they can't just extend one claw and a cat couldn't have done cut so thick.

Were it just a tree branch, Hedwig wouldn't have been acting so strange; she commonly got scraped by tree branches (though never that badly) and she ignored them. Not to mention, Hagrid found a piece of glass in the wound..

Which brought Harry to only one conclusion.

It must've been-

"Oy! Potter!" a voice called from below and Harry nearly fell off of his broom.

"W'sup Fred? George?" Harry flew down and asked conversationally.

"You do know that Quidditch doesn't start for--" Fred started.

"--Another few months, don't you," George finished.

"Yeah," Harry blushed, not from embarrassment but from the northern wind blowing toward him and stinging his face, "I just couldn't sleep -Ron is as loud while he's sleeping as when he's awake," Harry joked and they all laughed affably.

"What are you two doing out here?" Harry asked; they didn't have their broomsticks or anything to be carried with them.

Harry had an unpleasant feeling that though they weren't carrying anything, their pockets were stuffed to their maximum.

"Business," Fred said quietly and looked around in a conspiratorial way.

Harry smiled and nodded, "I guess I'd better get back to the dorm,"

It was Saturday morning, the first week of school having been uneventful and normal, and Harry was so far ecstatic to get away from the Dursley's.

When he returned, Ron was playing chess with Hermione. Hermione? Hermione never played chess with Ron . . .

Ron was losing badly.

Hermione smiled and took another sip of her drink - it was a putrid looking thing, swampy green in color and Harry didn't even want to try to decipher the smell.

"What is that?" Harry asked Hermione.

"It's an herbal drink," Hermione replied indignantly, "It's good for the, er, skin,"

Harry grimaced but said nothing more.

"Check and mate," Hermione said pleasantly, pushing aside her shortened hair.

*

Emily awoke at dawn, as usual. She sat up in her bed and stretched. The showers looked rather inviting, but Emily didn't want to wake anyone up at this hour. She decided to see if breakfast was being served yet, she needed some tea - green tea would taste good right now.

Ruby followed her down the stairs and Emily went to pick her up.

She paused in the common room, thinking about waking her "guide" but decided against it. She had a vial in her pocket and she knew better that to shrug it off - she'd attract too much attention.

Down in the Great Hall, the lights were dimmed, but a single plate was set out for her. Professor Dumbledore knew of Emily's habits, which scared and pleased her at the same time. At least she could eat.

Emily just realized that she hadn't eaten dinner and her stomach urged her passionately.

She sat on the bench and looked around. Nobody else was there and Emily smiled.

"Eggs," She said to the plate, "Eggs and sausage and country fried steak, and bacon,"

"My god, child," A voice came from the door. It was Malfoy.

Emily didn't bother coming up with an excuse for her hunger. She crossed her legs Indian style on the bench and started eating.

"You weren't supposed to leave without me," Malfoy said, slightly more angry.

"I didn't want to wake you," Emily commented between bites. She was a rather sloppy eater. Malfoy frowned at the way she ate like a starving cow.

"Oh bull," he said, tearing his eyes away from the unnatural way this lady ate, "You just want to get me in trouble, don't you?"

"Nope,"

"My god, do you even pause to breathe?" Okay, now it was just gross.

Malfoy wasn't sure if he could say anything more, so he sat down across from her. A plate appeared, but Malfoy couldn't concentrate due the slobbering and sipping of Little Miss Stuff-it.

"Cat intestines and puppy liver," Malfoy said to the plate, which didn't respond.

Emily dropped her fork and covered her mouth. Malfoy smiled. His desired effect came true.

"You are a horrible," But Emily stopped as her kitty jumped onto her lap.. The girl squeezed the poor feline and stood up, "Why did you even come here if you just wanted to make me lose my appetite," Emily screamed.

Malfoy was about to answer, but the girl suddenly dropped the cat and pulled a vial of Antimation Potion (it was a tranquilizing tonic) out of her pocket. She downed it immediately and her breathing became relaxed again. When she spoke, her voice was steady and low.

"You can't keep doing that, you know - especially in the mornings," She said looking at him seriously.

"Doing what?" the boy asked infuriatingly.

"You can't keep upsetting me or getting me worked up - it's bad for me,"

"It's not my fault-"

"Oh shut up, yes it is, and if it continues to happen, the joke may just end up on you," And she grabbed her cat and made to exit the Great Hall, her eyes gleaming maliciously. Malfoy quickly caught up with her.

"So why would I be protecting you if I only seem to make it worse?" He inquired slyly.

"Beats me, so why don't you just bugger off," Emily said calmly, still stroking Ruby.

"I'd love to, but last time that happened, you ended up in the hospital wing half-er-gone,"

"But I wasn't completely '- er - gone'," Emily mocked his stutter..

"Listen Miss Hamilton!" Malfoy stepped in front of her, "If we both oppose the ordeal, why don't we go to Dumbledore right now?" His face was red and his voice was annoyed.

"Because you look so cute when you're upset," Emily replied evilly and patted him on the cheek before walking away again. He was easy to control, his temper predictable. She could definitely use him for her plan . . .