Emerald (Lazuli Book #2) Harry Potter Fan Fiction (Draco Malfoy)

Chapter Eight - Our Imperfections are sometimes our Greatest Strengths

On my way to dinner that evening, I almost crash into a grumpy looking Professor McGonagall as we both come around the corners. It's all I can do to stay on my feet and not throw curse words at her, instead mumbling an apology. Professor McGonagall pats down her black robes, a sneer as if she had smelt something bag on her face. "Ah, Miss Weasley, I was just looking for you."

I frown at her, perplexed. "Me Professor?"

Professor McGonagall gives a frustrated huff. "Yes you, unless you and your brother have a triplet that I don't know about! I wanted to tell you that Professor Dumbledore would like to see you in his office directly after dinner. The password is Turkish Delight."

Before I can really register her words, she has turned and flounced away, obviously thinking herself much too important to spend more time than she deems necessary speaking to a Slytherin. As the head of Gryffindor House, McGonagall always shows preference to her own students. Whilst she's taught me Transfiguration for 5 years and I'm good at her subject, she has always met me with the attitude that she detests me and tries to avoid me at the best of times. On the few occasions that Dumbledore has wished to speak with me before, he's always sent Professor Snape to inform me, him being my head of house and all. So why would he send McGonagall today?

Unless he didn't want Snape to know.

I ponder it as I make my way to the Great Hall for dinner, what reason would Dumbledore have to speak to me? Unless he'd thought of another spell to try and burn the dark mark from my arm, I could think of no reason that an important man like him would want to waste time talking to somebody as insignificant as me, especially now.

Still, I could hardly say no.

At dinner, I ate my food in silence. Draco was absent from the meal - he must have disappeared off for a few moments of quiet reflection whilst the school ate. Honey and Sophia try to chat to me - Sophia's mood has lifted slightly now that she no longer has to bear the burden of her brother's sins alone. She chatters excitedly about Quidditch and here and there drops little comments about how it will be hard to find a new seeker as good as me. I know what she wants. But I won't give in.

I can't.

Somehow, the news has gotten around of mine and Harry's success in potions today. Whenever I turn to look at the other tables, I find different people staring at me and whispering to their neighbours, before turning to look at a laughing Harry on the Gryffindor table. Apparently a Slytherin and a Gryffindor working together and producing something spectacular is some sort of miracle. Slytherin and Gryffindor have always been the most remarkable houses, the houses which produced the greatest wizards, both good and bad. But they've never been remarkable together.

"Juliet, are you even listening?"

I realise that Honey had been speaking this entire time, and shrug my shoulder apologetically. Honey rolls her eyes and nibbles on a piece of bread. "You've been so distant lately Li, it's so unlike you!" I don't say anything, despite the fact that I'm itching to shove that bread up her cocky backside and storm off. Honey is my friend - it's not her fault she doesn't know all the facts. Honey continues on her analysis of my recent behaviour. "You let that beat you in Transfiguration!" she points towards Hermione who's just leaving the hall with Ginny. "Don't you even care that a mudblood beat you?"

In a fit of anger, I slap my hand down on the table. Everybody around us jumps. "Don't call her that," I hiss.

Full of fury at Honey, I jump up and grab the small potions book I'd borrowed from the library. "Professor Dumbledore wants to see me. I guess I'll see you later." Before she can say anything more, I storm away, so furious that I'm certain my hair has turned the shade known as Weasley Red.