The Carnival ⌁ Draco Malfoy [1/4] ✔

26

"So, uh," Emma said when she'd settled down. "How come you never talk about it?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Never talk about what?"

"You know, the first night we met at the carnival," Emma responded, absently drinking her butterbeer and moving her gaze awkwardly above Draco's head.

It appeared to have been a terrible thing to say; Draco finally looked away from her and stared hard down at his glass as though to shatter it, and she could literally feel his emotions passing through her just from looking at his face. She recognised it immediately...it was the same look he had when he was on the ferris wheel with her, lacking conversation and staring right ahead with a look that could set anyone on fire.

"Er...I'm sorry," Emma said dumbly, pursing her lips. "I shouldn't have said anything."

"It's just not a night I want to remember," Draco responded darkly, his grey eyes finally looking into hers again. And Emma was back to chewing her nails embarrassingly against her own will..."I wasn't going to do it, you know..." he continued. Emma threw him a questioning look and lowered her hand from her mouth. "Kiss you."

"Right," Emma rolled her eyes, jokingly adding, "and I wasn't going to kick you in the balls."

"Nah," he insisted, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. And it was quite unusual unless it was from amusement in teasing first-years or taunting Gryffindors. "I promise I wasn't. I was going to back away as soon as you got too close. Come on, stop staring at me like that!"

"Like what?" Emma laughed.

"That. That look that tells me you don't believe me. I wouldn't do that to you 'cause I don't think I could handle you hating me. Which you quite obviously did, but if McGonagall and Snape didn't walk in, you would've known. Kissing you against your will would have crushed you. I like you too much too see you sad."

The sincerity and desperation in his voice wasn't helping Emma in telling him otherwise, but Draco did appear to be telling the truth. His grey eyes were pulling against her blue ones, and she tugged away at it, replying with:

"All right, I believe you," she said, Draco's desperation noticeably disappeared as he relaxed against the chair; and for a moment it looked as though he was about to grab her hand and beg her to believe him. "Oh, and I don't blame you for liking me, Draco. I'm great."

Other than Draco's eye-roll, it was silent for a moment, Emma smiling sheepishly and glancing around the inn, until she heard Draco titter half-heartedly. She looked at him and he was staring down at her hand, a wide satisfied smirk on his face.

"What?" she questioned, trying to see what he was looking at but there was nothing interesting anywhere.

"Your mood right," Draco said smugly. "It's red."

"So?" Emma scoffed. "You think you understand the mood ring colour code? Not even I do. There are so many myths."

"Well here's what you ask yourself. Is it an ordinary Muggle mood ring or is it one you bought within the Wizarding community?"

"The latter," Emma muttered, staring down at her mood ring. It was flushing a crimson red.

"Then, yes, I understand the colour code. Red means you're nervous."