Unforgivable

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Dinner in the Great Hall was an evident disaster; it being fed back to me through the Slytherin team that Quidditch would not be taking place, that year, due to the Triwizard Tournament. Not only that, but nobody under the age of seventeen would be allowed to enter. I was seething, unable to control my anger that I wouldn't be able to captain my team in my very first year. It relieved some pressure, but I had already been working on a strategy during the summer holidays and now...It would all go to waste until the following year, by which point we would have lost almost half of our team; the majority of them now in their final year also having to miss out. At least they had a shot at competing, I supposed.

Not knowing how would be best to express my frustration, I wrote a letter to Remus in the Slytherin Common Room, that night.

"If you press your quill any harder, you'll make a hole in that parchment." Draco snorted from his lying position on one of the sofas. I ignored him, angrily continuing to write my feelings onto the page. 

"Who's if for, anyway?" His voice caused a slight increase in irritation to brew in my stomach.

"Remus."

"Lupin? Why would you write to him?"

Sighing, I ran a hand through my auburn hair and finally looked up to face him. "Because he's my Godfather."

Draco watched me, perplexed, "You never mentioned that before."

"I didn't think I needed to. He's under enough scrutiny, as it is." I spoke simply, my quill pressing even harder against the page as I continued to write. 

"Because he's a werewolf."

"Yes, Draco, because he's a werewolf." This was no news to any of Hogwarts, Remus' secret being revealed at the end of last term. Perhaps, my connection to him shouldn't have slipped my tongue, however. It may give people reason to believe I was the student attacked, the year prior. Shit.

"He was a good teacher. I was sorry to see him go, even with his ailment." Draco's kind words took a moment for me to process, my hand relaxing as I looked up to face him, checking for any signs of being disingenuous. His mind was laid out, plain and simple and honest. A small smile crept its way across my lips, irrevocably. "Thanks, Draco." The boy nodded in response, returning back to the book he was reading.

"I'm sorry about what Moody did to you." My own words took me by surprise as Draco looked up to face me, once more. "I'm sorry my spell got you. Even though it was aimed at Harry, it was still wrong. Even had it hit him instead."

Signing my name at the bottom of the parchment, I made my way over to him and took a seat on the couch opposite. "You've got to stop insulting my friends and their families. It'll only come back to bite you, if you do." Draco nodded at this, his guilty expression averting from my gaze as his fingers began to trace the pattern on the book cover he held. "I know. I'll keep quiet from now on." And this time, I believed his words, also.

"Goodnight, Draco." I smirked, making my way over to the Girl's dormitory staircase.

"Goodnight, Emerald." His voice was low and soft, bringing me to a slight halt before continuing my journey with the hope he would change for the better...

***

The following morning, I would venture to the owlery and send my letter to Remus. Classes would resume as per normal and our first potion's lesson would be entirely theoretical; Snape demonstrating how to correctly brew a wit-sharpening potion whilst the class took notes in preparation for the practical, which would take place in our double lesson on Thursday.

Thursday soon came; and with the new day we had our first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson with Professor Moody. Somehow, I found myself paired with Draco in most classes; the odd number in our group leaving Pansy Parkinson to have to partner with a Gryffindor student; Dean Thomas. The classroom was very different, in comparison to how Remus would have it, the term prior. The creatures had been replaced with magnifying glasses, mystical objects, jars filled with insects etc. It was rather unsettling, as the man limped across the room, eyeing them all as he crossed each row of pupils. 

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