Words Could Never Say It
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
9
Views:
3,399
Reviews:
5
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
9
Views:
3,399
Reviews:
5
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Pop the Question
ChChapter Six - Pop the Question
Draco was released from the hospital wing the next day after Madam Pomphery was convinced he had not received head injuries in the fall. His arm had been placed in a cast and it would be healed in a few days on its own, but he found it strange that it didn't hurt at all. In class, he kept looking off into space, wondering about Emily Matthews... Why had she done it? Why had she given herself a broken leg to save him? It wasn't that he wasn't grateful that she hadn't allowed him to be splattered against the ground, but it still nagged at him as to why she had risked a much more serious injury than a broken leg to help him.
His father had sent him a new broomstick - a Shooting Star 8900 XL. The model was the closest to the Firebolt on the market, even better than the newest Nimbus, but according to his father, cost half of what the Firebolt did, and since Slytherin seemed to win less and less Quidditch matches ever year, he hadn't felt it 'appropriate' to get Draco a Firebolt. Strangely, the usually spoiled and fussy teenager had not protested, but taken it without complaint, written back a very simple thank you, and stored it in his closet. Even his new broom couldn't keep his mind off of Emily...
Draco blinked, his head coming up very fast from his hand in History of Magic class, startling Goyle and Pansy Parkinson, who were sitting on either side of him. It had just suddenly occurred to him that Halloween, and its accompanying masquerade ball, was the next Saturday... Today was Thursday! He was suddenly on edge, uneasy about what he knew he had to do, at least to put his stomach to rest. He HAD to ask Emily to the ball!
He glanced at Pansy, who slid her palm over his thigh much to his discomfort and she smirked at him. After telling her he was going to the ball as a vampire, she had immediately bustled to work and began to make her own costume to match with his, and he had said nothing about it, good or bad. As odd as it sounded even to himself, he didn't like hurting Pansy if he could help it... In a weird way, she was the one thing he could always count on, no matter what he needed - a warm body in bed, a shoulder to cry on, an ear to whisper to... even if he never used her for any of it (well, except for the warm body, of course), it was comforting to Draco to know she was there for him.
As soon as the bell for lunch rang after the history class, Draco gathered up his books hurriedly, screwing the top onto his ink bottle. "I have some important work to do in the library, I just remembered. Bring me a sandwich to potions, will you? I'll eat in the hall before the class, meet you there!" he'd called to Goyle, Pansy, and Crabbe, who had been sitting on the other side of Goyle. The three Slytherins looked at each other, and then looked back at Malfoy as the platinum blond disappeared down the crowded corridor.
Draco was panting by the time he came to the hospital wing, rubbing his upper arm as he slowly opened the door and peered in side. He was feeling exceptionally lucky at the fact that it appeared to be completely abandoned, except for the one occupied bed that held Emily, who was still recovering from the nasty blow to the head and the fractured bone in her leg. It did his heart somewhat good to see her sitting up in bed, sipping a glass of what looked like pumpkin juice and reading a book open on her lap. He quickly straightened his tie and his robes, and slid inside, trying to ignore the heat rising in his face.
Smiling, Emily looked up, but then paused, and looked somewhat alarmed to see him. Apparently, she had been expecting someone else. She sat up a little straighter, and grabbed her wand, raising it. For a fleeting moment, Draco almost ducked back, feeling that a hex or a jinx was coming his way, but he immediately relaxed and almost felt a bit ashamed (especially since there was no parchment or quills around) as she waved her wand, and scrolling text appeared. *What are you doing here?*
"I... well, I came to see how you were doing," Draco stammered, stepping forward to the bed and sitting down in the chair beside her. "You've been in here for five days now... I hope you'll be alright for the Halloween ball." He did his best to make it sound sympathetic rather than desperate, and he wasn't quite sure how he'd done. Her expression revealed nothing.
*Madam Pomphery says I'll be ready to dance all night by Saturday.*
"Oh, good... That's good news. I doubt it would have been the same without you there, seeing as your Dad's the reason it's being thrown..." He smiled, and rubbed the back of his neck as he looked at the window. His mouth was dry, his heart hammering in his chest. Oh, come on, Draco, pull yourself together! You're a Malfoy! Malfoy's aren't afraid of anything! ... Why did his inner confidence sound frighteningly like his father...?
"Uh... Emily... I was... wondering..." he looked at her, and she looked at him somewhat quizzically. "I know... you and I've had our differences... and I guess I've been a bit of a jerk..."
*Just a touch.*
"..." Malfoy swallowed, but Emily smirked. "I... Well, I was wondering... hoping really, that you'd... come to the ball with me. As... Well, as my date."
There was a long and very awkward silence as Emily stared at Draco. Obviously this was the last thing she expected from the Slytherin purest, and her cheeks began to glow a deep crimson red. *Draco...* was all she could write for a long moment even after.
*I'm not what you think,* she wrote in small quick letters. *There are things about me no one can know. And well, besides that... I've... already been asked. And, well... I said yes.*
Malfoy felt his world shatter into a million pieces right then and there as he stared at Emily and her rather guilty face, her eyes more blue now with their sympathetic softness. "Oh... Okay. That's okay, sure." He smiled as he stood up very quickly.
*I'm really sorry, Draco...*
Draco waved his hand, still smiling broadly and very falsely. "Nonsense!" he said with a fake laugh. "Not at all! I should go though; I promised Pansy I'd meet her for lunch." He back tracked quickly, and then stopped. "Well... who did ask you anyway?" he asked cautiously.
*Mario Devenish... The Hufflepuff Quidditch captain, you remember him? The Keeper?*
How the hell could he ever forget that stinking, filthy, son of a bitch?!
"Yeah, I remember him a little bit... Well, you get better soon, I hope to see you in potions tomorrow, and if not then, Saturday night in the Great Hall. See you." Quickly, he left the hospital wing, Emily's eyes on him, bewildered, and he quickly made his way down to the Great Hall.
By the time he entered it, his eyes were icy cold, his expression practically twisted with rage, and he sat down hard beside Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy, who looked at him in shock of his sudden appearance. "Okay, listen up," he growled angrily, and nearly everyone at the Slytherin table gave him their attention. That tone meant he was up to something... "It's time to make the Hufflepuffs pay for what they did to us on the Quidditch field," he snarled very low, making sure no one but Slytherins could hear. "I'm gunna make that captain Devenish burn. And the Halloween ball is the perfect opportunity. Now... here's what we're gunna do..."
Draco was released from the hospital wing the next day after Madam Pomphery was convinced he had not received head injuries in the fall. His arm had been placed in a cast and it would be healed in a few days on its own, but he found it strange that it didn't hurt at all. In class, he kept looking off into space, wondering about Emily Matthews... Why had she done it? Why had she given herself a broken leg to save him? It wasn't that he wasn't grateful that she hadn't allowed him to be splattered against the ground, but it still nagged at him as to why she had risked a much more serious injury than a broken leg to help him.
His father had sent him a new broomstick - a Shooting Star 8900 XL. The model was the closest to the Firebolt on the market, even better than the newest Nimbus, but according to his father, cost half of what the Firebolt did, and since Slytherin seemed to win less and less Quidditch matches ever year, he hadn't felt it 'appropriate' to get Draco a Firebolt. Strangely, the usually spoiled and fussy teenager had not protested, but taken it without complaint, written back a very simple thank you, and stored it in his closet. Even his new broom couldn't keep his mind off of Emily...
Draco blinked, his head coming up very fast from his hand in History of Magic class, startling Goyle and Pansy Parkinson, who were sitting on either side of him. It had just suddenly occurred to him that Halloween, and its accompanying masquerade ball, was the next Saturday... Today was Thursday! He was suddenly on edge, uneasy about what he knew he had to do, at least to put his stomach to rest. He HAD to ask Emily to the ball!
He glanced at Pansy, who slid her palm over his thigh much to his discomfort and she smirked at him. After telling her he was going to the ball as a vampire, she had immediately bustled to work and began to make her own costume to match with his, and he had said nothing about it, good or bad. As odd as it sounded even to himself, he didn't like hurting Pansy if he could help it... In a weird way, she was the one thing he could always count on, no matter what he needed - a warm body in bed, a shoulder to cry on, an ear to whisper to... even if he never used her for any of it (well, except for the warm body, of course), it was comforting to Draco to know she was there for him.
As soon as the bell for lunch rang after the history class, Draco gathered up his books hurriedly, screwing the top onto his ink bottle. "I have some important work to do in the library, I just remembered. Bring me a sandwich to potions, will you? I'll eat in the hall before the class, meet you there!" he'd called to Goyle, Pansy, and Crabbe, who had been sitting on the other side of Goyle. The three Slytherins looked at each other, and then looked back at Malfoy as the platinum blond disappeared down the crowded corridor.
Draco was panting by the time he came to the hospital wing, rubbing his upper arm as he slowly opened the door and peered in side. He was feeling exceptionally lucky at the fact that it appeared to be completely abandoned, except for the one occupied bed that held Emily, who was still recovering from the nasty blow to the head and the fractured bone in her leg. It did his heart somewhat good to see her sitting up in bed, sipping a glass of what looked like pumpkin juice and reading a book open on her lap. He quickly straightened his tie and his robes, and slid inside, trying to ignore the heat rising in his face.
Smiling, Emily looked up, but then paused, and looked somewhat alarmed to see him. Apparently, she had been expecting someone else. She sat up a little straighter, and grabbed her wand, raising it. For a fleeting moment, Draco almost ducked back, feeling that a hex or a jinx was coming his way, but he immediately relaxed and almost felt a bit ashamed (especially since there was no parchment or quills around) as she waved her wand, and scrolling text appeared. *What are you doing here?*
"I... well, I came to see how you were doing," Draco stammered, stepping forward to the bed and sitting down in the chair beside her. "You've been in here for five days now... I hope you'll be alright for the Halloween ball." He did his best to make it sound sympathetic rather than desperate, and he wasn't quite sure how he'd done. Her expression revealed nothing.
*Madam Pomphery says I'll be ready to dance all night by Saturday.*
"Oh, good... That's good news. I doubt it would have been the same without you there, seeing as your Dad's the reason it's being thrown..." He smiled, and rubbed the back of his neck as he looked at the window. His mouth was dry, his heart hammering in his chest. Oh, come on, Draco, pull yourself together! You're a Malfoy! Malfoy's aren't afraid of anything! ... Why did his inner confidence sound frighteningly like his father...?
"Uh... Emily... I was... wondering..." he looked at her, and she looked at him somewhat quizzically. "I know... you and I've had our differences... and I guess I've been a bit of a jerk..."
*Just a touch.*
"..." Malfoy swallowed, but Emily smirked. "I... Well, I was wondering... hoping really, that you'd... come to the ball with me. As... Well, as my date."
There was a long and very awkward silence as Emily stared at Draco. Obviously this was the last thing she expected from the Slytherin purest, and her cheeks began to glow a deep crimson red. *Draco...* was all she could write for a long moment even after.
*I'm not what you think,* she wrote in small quick letters. *There are things about me no one can know. And well, besides that... I've... already been asked. And, well... I said yes.*
Malfoy felt his world shatter into a million pieces right then and there as he stared at Emily and her rather guilty face, her eyes more blue now with their sympathetic softness. "Oh... Okay. That's okay, sure." He smiled as he stood up very quickly.
*I'm really sorry, Draco...*
Draco waved his hand, still smiling broadly and very falsely. "Nonsense!" he said with a fake laugh. "Not at all! I should go though; I promised Pansy I'd meet her for lunch." He back tracked quickly, and then stopped. "Well... who did ask you anyway?" he asked cautiously.
*Mario Devenish... The Hufflepuff Quidditch captain, you remember him? The Keeper?*
How the hell could he ever forget that stinking, filthy, son of a bitch?!
"Yeah, I remember him a little bit... Well, you get better soon, I hope to see you in potions tomorrow, and if not then, Saturday night in the Great Hall. See you." Quickly, he left the hospital wing, Emily's eyes on him, bewildered, and he quickly made his way down to the Great Hall.
By the time he entered it, his eyes were icy cold, his expression practically twisted with rage, and he sat down hard beside Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy, who looked at him in shock of his sudden appearance. "Okay, listen up," he growled angrily, and nearly everyone at the Slytherin table gave him their attention. That tone meant he was up to something... "It's time to make the Hufflepuffs pay for what they did to us on the Quidditch field," he snarled very low, making sure no one but Slytherins could hear. "I'm gunna make that captain Devenish burn. And the Halloween ball is the perfect opportunity. Now... here's what we're gunna do..."