Revenge is Sweet-Most of the Time

Emily remembered an old episode of ‘Friends’, her favorite Muggle TV program , she had watched, where Rachel went out on a ‘pretend date’ with Joey. Rachel had fascinated him by asking about his family, his life, and listening sympathetically. She decided that it couldn’t hurt. Actually, it could help. Draco and Emily were alone together a lot this term, and not just for kissing. It was as if he actually seemed to find comfort in her presence, although Emily always tried to keep a corner of her mind wary of him.

“Draco, tell me about your childhood,” she pleaded one night, but he scoffed.

“What is this, a session of Helping Malfoy?” he asked sarcastically, making her a little upset.

“No. Shut up if you can’t be decent.”

“Fine. I’ll tell you in a minute. But first. You never swear.”

“I don’t think it’s necessary.”

“You don’t find it necessary. My girlfriend is Miss Mary Sue goody two shoes?” He smirked at her.

“No. I just don’t swear. Do you want me to?”

“No. I don’t think I could stand you if you swore. God. Fucking witty, sarcastic, hot..”

" There are girls prettier than me."

“Oh, modest too. If you swore, I think you’d be the perfect girlfriend. No-you’d have to be a bit more willing.”

“Shut the hell up.” Emily hit him on his shoulder.

. “Damn. She swore.”

Emily rolled her eyes.

“Does Pansy Parkinson swear?” Emily asked curiously.

“Pansy Parkinson is a whore, she swears, she does everything a slut should.” Draco admitted.

“Is she...”

I don’t know. I’ve never screwed her.”

“Yeah, right.” Emily was obviously disbelieving.

“I haven’t. She’s not attractive.”

“Right.”
“Damn you, Emily.” Draco was sick of her constant questioning.

“You know what, I don’t even care. Tell me about your childhood.”

“Do you really want to hear Miss American Pie?” His statement pissed Emily off.

“What the hell is wrong with being an American?”

“Nothing. I find it...endearing.”

“I’m about as dear to you as owl crap.”

“Just shut up, okay?”

“Whatever. Childhood. Now.”

“Yes, Mother. Oh wait, Mother doesn’t care. Anyway. I was born 17 years ago into the Malfoy house. The moment it was determined that I was male, father began planning my life out. At age three, I began learning to hate Muggles-I still do, Muggle-born, or Mudbloods, and anyone who wasn’t Dark. I learned the Curses at age 10. I can do them all. You want to see what it’s like to be controlled?” he teased her.

“No. I know what you’d do if you had control of me.”

“Damn. Anyway, I was sorted into Slytherin, which made father very happy. If I hadn’t been sorted there, I would have been disowned. I’m not capable of love. Lust, yes, liking, yes, but love, no. Although I’m pretty close to loving you,” he admitted.
Emily looked into his eyes, and got chills. He wasn’t
joking. He took her in his arms, and kissed her, differently than he had ever kissed her before. They stayed outside for a long time.