"Emily Poole, you are exceptionally ordinary" ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
"What a strange way to tell me you love me, but I'll take it," ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
In which Emily falls in love w...
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THE NEXT MORNING, Emily wasn't at breakfast, which worried Harry.
"I hope she's coming to practice," Ron said anxiously, stuffing a piece of bacon inside his mouth, "Bad enough you can't play, Harry, imagine she couldn't make it either,"
"Honestly, Ronald, don't be so insensitive!" Hermione exclaimed, smacking him with her book, "I'm more worried about her, imagine having to relive that..."
"Thank you for mentioning it again, I didn't feel bad enough already," Harry said, eyes still searching the hall for her familiar dark hair.
"You should!" Hermione scolded him, "You should never have used a spell from that stupid Prince's book,"
"I can't listen to any more of this," he said angrily, grabbing his bag and standing up from the table. He was sick of Hermione rubbing it into his face that he had done something wrong.
He hurried out of the Great Hall, ignoring the whispers and stares that followed after him, instead making a beeline for the hospital wing. He had a hunch where Emily might be.
Sure enough, as he stopped in front of the double doors, he found her sitting on the wooden bench on the left of the door, a textbook open on her lap, quill hastily scribbling a piece of parchment. In front of her floated a little pot of ink she had bewitched.
"Emily?" he said her name tentatively, and Emily was so startled her concentration broke and the inkpot fell and smashed onto the floor.
"Shit," she swore, hastily moving her feet out of the way of a growing puddle of dark blue ink.
"I'm sorry," he said, "Here I'll– Reparo,"
The shards of glass flew back together and the ink re-poured itself into the newly repaired pot. It floated back into Emily's outstretched hand, where she capped it and stuffed it in her bag.
"I'm really sorry about what I did, Emily, I didn't know what it was–"
"I know Harry," Emily said quietly.
"I would never have used it if I knew, I wouldn't even use that on Malfoy–"
"Harry, I believe you," Emily said, her voice a little louder, and it seemed to bring Harry out of his rambling.
"You do?" he asked, dumbstruck, and she nodded.
"I don't think you would've used that spell if you knew what it was," she said, and he nodded.
