Miss Quinn

137 ~ The Breakout

Emma's flurry of emotions following her breakup with Dean had her in the Arena for hours. She planned to slash and hack apart dummies until she no longer felt the stabbing pain of grief and regret in her heart. She planned to work out until her muscles were numb, in hopes of not having to feel anything.

She sank into the rhythm of training with precision. Her mind constructed a list of things to practice, things to improve. She kept her hands busy, her feet moving, her mind creating, so that she wouldn't punch a wall and scream about how stupid she'd been.

She didn't regret breaking up with Dean. She'd planned to do that. What she regretted was letting their relationship fall apart because of her lack of attention, both for Dean and for what Draco was doing to Dean. She could have fixed things, could have ended it on a mutual note of peace and understanding, if not for Dean's pent-up anger at her because of Draco. How could she have missed something so huge?

As if her thoughts had sent out a homing beacon, the blonde haired prick appeared in the doorway. He slipped in and shut the door quickly, then turned to Emma. He was smirking. He looked like he was about to tell her something he thought hilarious. But then his eyes caught sight of her face, stained with tears, sweat, and blood, her hands blistered and bleeding, her body swaying from her lack of strength to keep herself upright. When he took it all in, his expression dropped, and was replaced with one of genuine concern.

Emma threw her dagger into the chest of the dummy at her feet, and slumped to the cold stone floor. Draco was there in moments, sitting beside her, asking what had happened, saying he could go get Madame Pomfrey if she needed him to.

Emma shrugged out of his grip on her arm. She didn't want to speak to him. He'd been a key part in her break up. Did he even know what he'd caused?

"Emma, talk to me," he pleaded, trying to turn her face towards him. She met his stormy gray eyes with her hazel ones. She knew she looked a mess. She was a wreck. But she didn't want his help.

"Get out," she commanded in a gruff voice.

Draco shook his head. "Tell me what happened."

Emma glared at him. "You happened."

His mouth dropped open. "What do you mean?"

"I broke up with Dean today. You want to know what he told me?"

Draco's POV

Draco swallowed the lump that had somehow appeared in his throat. He knew what Dean had told her. If she was this pissed at him, there was only one thing he could have said.

"What?" he asked, praying he was wrong.

Emma seethed at him. "That a certain blonde Slytherin prat has been teasing him for months about knowing my secret when he doesn't!"

Draco didn't bother denying it. They both knew he'd done it. She didn't know why though, and he wasn't entirely sure why, either, other than the fact that he loved torturing Gryffindors. But she was right to be angry. What he'd done was a different kind of torture. He guessed his actions had ruined their relationship, or at least increased its likelihood of failing. Had that been his goal? He'd never liked Dean, had always felt Emma deserved better, but what were his true reasons for teasing Dean about Emma's secret? Draco wasn't even sure he knew the answer.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled.

Emma slapped him hard across the face. "Sorry isn't good enough. Get out before I use my dagger."

Draco didn't have to be told twice. The anger in Emma's eyes was dangerous enough to kill. He'd seen her angry before, but never this angry at him. Well, maybe he had. She'd gotten angry with him several times over the years. She'd smacked him across the face more times than he could count, had even gone as far as to beat him up. She was truly frightening when she wanted to be.