The Carnival 》Draco Malfoy [1]

In which a wizard meets a witch in the Muggle world.
Draco Malfoy fanfiction.



6. 6

For the next few days, Emma impatiently awaited Harry's arrival of telling her whether she was in the Defence group or not, but he never came. It got to the point where she'd given up on him telling her so and she just forgot about it and forced her mind onto something else.

In the Slytherin common room, Sabrina, Pansy and Milicent were discussing the upcoming Qudditch match in a month - the first Qudditch game of the school year - which was Slytherin versus Gryffindor. Emma was, indeed, looking forward to watching the game as Qudditch was not played in her previous school. There, they played a magical game of Hockey which bored her to the core.

She had just flicked to the next page of the novel she was reading when the cushion beside her had sunk.

"So," said a cocky voice and Emma sensed the smirk before she saw it. "Since you ladies are so eager as to watch me win the Quidditch match, you should come and watch me practice."

Not looking away from the novel in her hands, Emma replied with, "I'd rather not, Draco."

"Why not?" he asked, and Emma looked over to see a pout on his pale lips.

Smiling, Emma responded cockily with, "I want you to surprise me."

It was true that she'd wanted to avoid the Quidditch practices at all cost so she'd be amazed at the real thing, but giving Draco what he wanted would only rise that annoying ego of his and she knew it.

He leaned back against the sofa and sighed loudly. "Emma, you're breaking my heart."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"You don't sound very sorry," Draco whispered and twirled his finger through a strand of her hair. He leaned closer and said, "Nice freckles, by the way."

Embarrassed that he'd caught sight of things close up like Freckles, Emma knocked his hand away from her hair. "Don't talk about them."

"I won't if you don't want me to," he replied softly. "But I do believe I found my new nickname for you. Freckles."

"Oh, yeah?" Sabrina interrupted with a snort. Pansy and Milicent were discussing their nail colour. Sabrina dug through her bag, pulled out a purse, and then threw a small, rectangular paper at Emma. "If he calls you Freckles, you can come up with something just by looking at that."

Emma nearly laughed but all she could do was coo. On the back of the paper were the words 'Draco. 1991.' It was a picture of Draco in his first year when he was eleven and he was the cutest thing she'd ever seen. His hair was gelled right back and his hair line went forward over his forehead a little and made him look like a vampire because of his incredibly pale skin.

"Holy dragonballs, you were so cute!" Emma couldn't help but squeal.

Draco's palm was covering his face and he was blowing exhaled raspberries. "Please. I know. But you're completely off topic here."

"All right," Emma smirked, earning a nod from Sabrina when she tucked the picture away in her bag. "If you call me Freckles, I'm going to call you Dracula."

Draco snorted. "What? Why?"

"Well, you have the same kind of hair as a vampire when it's all gelled up and your skin is pale. Plus you have the same first four letters as Dracula. So deal with it, Dracula."

Draco chuckled half-heartedly and glanced away for a swift second before turning back to her. "You know what? Call me Dracula all you want, Freckles. It won't bother me because I know I don't look like a vampire. So, go ahead, Freckles."

"Hey - why do you keep making fun of Ron?" Emma demanded, switching the topic. It had just popped up whilst thinking about Quidditch. "Every time you see him you imitate him."

"Because he's a loser?" he replied as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "And plus he can't even play Quidditch."

"He probably could if you'd give him a bit of support," Emma suggested.

Sabrina, Pansy and Millicent stopped mid-conversation at Draco's unbelievably loud howls of laughter. Head hanging back, eyes shut tight, Draco laughed.

"Think you can shut up now?" Sabrina asked, annoyed.

He kept laughing.

"If I come to see you practice, will you stop laughing?"

He fell silent.

Sabrina looked between Draco and Emma, an annoyed look still plastered on her face, until her eyebrows broke out into a magnificent break dance. Pansy scoffed, looking away into the fireplace. Millicent didn't appear to be paying much attention as she picked at her fingernails.

Slapping the novel into Draco's chest, Emma got up off the sofa, whispered, "see you tomorrow," and started to rush up the girls dormitory steps when a voice forced her to halt.

"Hold on just a second," Sabrina said loudly. She curled her finger in a motion to gesture Emma over.

Emma walked over to Sabrina who was sitting by the fireplace next to the two other girls. Draco was still on the sofa, even when Pansy decided to leave the common room for her Prefect duties.

"What?" she asked.

Sabrina shook her head, shrugged, grabbed Emma's hand and forced her to sit on the ground in front of her. She then proceeded to grab three bottles of nail polish and told her to pick a color.

"Pink, green or black?"

Emma opened her mouth to speak but Draco cut her off.

"I suggest green. Green looks good on you, Freckles," he winked.

Sabrina scoffed and looked her cousins way. "Was I asking you, Dracula? It's not your turn just yet."

"What the hell," Emma cracked a smile. "Green."

Sabrina clicked her tongue as Emma placed her hand on her knee so that Sabrina could paint her nails. Draco stood up no more than a second later and headed for the common room portrait door. Sabrina slid the ring off Emma's hand and inspected it for a moment.

"I better go help Pansy," he said without looking over his shoulder. "Love you, Freckles."

Mentally groaning, Emma shifted annoyingly and fought the urge to roll her eyes. Draco's flirtatious behavior had gotten worse and worse every day and all it did was irritate her.

"Just ignore him," Sabrina rolled her eyes.

"I try."

Sabrina chuckled softly and continued doing Emma's nails. "Crap," she muttered to herself.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, just got a bit over the nail. Your nails are too damn short, so it's hard."

Emma let out a nervous laugh. "I chew my nails when I'm nervous. Sorry."

"And what could you possibly be all nervous about?" Sabrina asked in a scarily, high-pitched, chirpy voice.

"Umbridge," Emma mumbled, embarrassed. "She scares me."

Sabrina laughed and Emma's stomach twisted at the feeling of the nail brush going all over her finger.

"Seriously?" she choked through her laughter. "Umbridge loves Slytherin's."

"And how do you know?" Emma narrowed her eyes as Sabrina cleaned the green nail polish off her finger.

"It's obvious, isn't it?"

As Emma thought about it, it really was quite obvious. She'd treated the Slytherin's as though they were royalty and the rest of the Houses as though they were peasants. Umbridge had given out a detention at least every lesson and not one of them was a Slytherin. It was mostly Harry and his running mouth.

"Do you know who my parents are?" Sabrina asked out of the blue. She didn't look up at Emma; she was too focused on her nails but Emma did see her lips purse.

"No," she shook her head even though she, Sabrina, couldn't see her.

"Doesn't the surname Lestrange ring a bell? Do you even read the daily prophet?"

"No, not really. The daily prophets full of depressing things now."

Sabrina clicked her tongue again to signify that she agreed.

"My mum, dad and uncle tortured these two Aurors a little after I was born," she explained while working on Emma's other hand. "They were caught and sentenced to life imprisonment in Azkaban, thank the heavens."

Emma didn't know what to say. Feeling bad for her was obvious but she, Emma, had no idea what to say. She itched to chew her nails but instead spoke words without thinking of them first. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"I'm not going to lie when I say I'm ashamed of being their daughter."


Twisting her mood ring, Emma waited in the stands for the Slytherin Quidditch team to somber out and begin practicing. She couldn't believe that all she'd be doing was watching Draco chase after a small golden ball, three people toss a big brown ball, two others hit a different brown ball, and someone else guard three hoops. The only interesting position for the game in her opinion was the beaters. Emma'd pay to hit a ball at people.

There were only about three other Slytherins in the stands, and across from her, all the way on the other side of the Quidditch pitch, sat a dark-skinned girl with braided hair, her eyes squinting as she searched for the players. Her scarlet and gold scarf told Emma she was a Gryffindor.

No more than a moment later, seven Slytherins walked onto the pitch clutching a broomstick and one of them was carrying a black chest.

"You ever played?" a voice said from beside Emma, causing her to flinch and squeal. Blaise looked as though he were suppressing a giggle.

"No," Emma panted, crossing her arms as she calmed down from her almost heart attack. "I haven't."

"You should," he offered. "It's fun. Except when it's competition like for the House Cup, it just gets boring then because all you can think about is winning."

"So you've played for Slytherin then?"

He shook his head. "Nah, Draco told me. I might try out next year, though."

The moment Emma opened her mouth to speak was when someone went whipping past her vision, sending her a wink until she could see the back of his white-blond hair.

"So how long have you been friends?" she asked, trying to pay attention to the players on the pitch.

"Who? Draco and I?" Blaise asked. Emma nodded. "We're not really...I don't think...We're more of acquaintances, Draco and I."

"Oh," Emma said, surprised. Because she was; whenever she seen Blaise and Draco together they seemed as though they'd been best friends for years. But, Emma supposed that's just the way boys were. They could meet for the very first time and two minutes later they'd seem like they knew each others darkest secrets. "Could have fooled me."

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