[CHAPTER 9]

THE GAME

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WHEN EMILY WOKE the next morning and looked out the window, she saw to her delight that the sky was clear and pale blue, which she took as a good omen. The only other girl awake in her dormitory was Fay Dunbar, who was sat up on her bed reading her copy of "Confronting the Faceless", the new textbook for Defence Against the Dark Arts.

"Is the chapter Snape assigned long?" Emily asked her as she pulled on her Quidditch robes.

Fay shrugged. "It isn't so bad, but I'm making a summary anyway in case you need it,"

"Thanks Fay," Emily said with a broad smile, "Will you come to watch the game?"

Fay smiled before pointing at a pile of Gryffindor scarves and flags lying on her trunk at the foot of her bed. "You bet,"

With that, Emily pulled on the last of her gear, grabbed her broomstick from under her bed and bid Fay goodbye. It was barely past 8, and Quidditch games only ever started at 10 on Sundays, giving Emily two hours to practice and have breakfast. She started the descent to the Quidditch field, passing the Great Hall on her way and grabbing bread roll. 

Breakfast is the most important meal of day, Emily. She could practically hear her mother's voice speaking to her through her head. 

When she finally reached the Quidditch, chewing on the remnants of her breakfast, she had to rummage through several boxes of gear in the Gryffindor changing room before she could find a spare Quaffle. At last, Quaffle under her arm, she kicked off on her Nimbus 2001. She managed to bewitch the ball to fly back each time it went through a hoop, and had been playing for an hour and a half when she decided to stop. 

She headed for the Gryffindor changing rooms, but as she got closer, she heard muttering coming from inside the wooden hut. Frowning, she pushed the door open softly, and a familiar mop of white blonde hair came into view. Draco Malfoy was sitting, back to the door, muttering something under his breath.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Emily asked, crossing her arms over her chest. Draco jumped so high she thought his head might graze the ceiling, and he turned towards her. When he saw it was Emily, his face turned into an ugly sneer.

"It's none of your business, Poole," he all but snarled, and she rolled her eyes.

"Last I heard you quit the team and you were still a Slytherin," she said, "Which means you have no reason to be here,"

"Leave me alone," he hissed, "Or I'll hex you into next week,"

Emily had pulled her wand just as quickly, but when her flitted to Draco's shaking hands, she frowned.

"You're shaking," she noted. He looked down at his hand, but said nothing.

"–and earlier when I came in, your eyes, you looked...terrified,"

"Don't be ridiculous, why would I be scared of you?" he said defensively, but Emily lowered her wand.

"Not of me," she said, and Draco glared at her.

"I'm leaving," he said purposefully, before making a step for the entrance of the changing room. Emily stepped into his path.

"Draco," she said, her voice softer, "Is somebody threatening you?"

"Don't be ridiculous!" he said loudly, but his eyes seemed frantic. Something told Emily her guess had been pretty spot on.

"I won't press you about it," she said, "But you can talk to me,"

"Yeah?" he scoffed, "How do I know you won't go running straight to Potter?"

"If you asked me not to, then I wouldn't," she replied earnestly, and although she watched his shoulder relax, his expression remained guarded.

"Why don't you hate me? My father's the reason you spent the summer in hospital," he said, and Emily sighed.

"I don't know you well, Draco, but I know you're not your father," she said gently, and his eyes flashed with guilt.

"I'm sorry–"

"This is the Gryffindor changing room, Malfoy," came Harry's cold voice from behind Emily, and she turned around to see he had just stepped through the door, "And last I checked, you were still a snake,"

When she turned back to Malfoy, the vulnerable expression he had been wearing had been replaced by another sneer.

"I was just going," he hissed, before pushing past them both and disappearing out of the door.

"What happened? Did he threaten you?" Harry asked, and Emily shook her head.

"No he didn't, we were just talking," she replied, and he frowned.

"What could you possibly have to talk about?" he asked, and judgment in Harry's tone made Emily angry.

"Quite frankly, that isn't any of your business," she replied shortly, and his frown deepened.

"But–"

"Did you guys hear?"

Ginny had just stepped into the changing room, accompanied by Demelza, Ron and the rest of the team.

"That Slytherin Chaser Vaisey — he took a Bludger in the head yesterday during their practice, and he's too sore to play!" she said gleefully, and with Harry temporarily taking his eyes off Emily, she stepped away from him enough for Ron to plant himself between them.

"Malfoy isn't playing either, since he quit," said Ron, and Emily could feel Harry's gaze on her.

"Fishy, isn't it?" she heard him say in an undertone to Ron. "Malfoy not playing?"

"Maybe he's focusing on his N.E.W.T's," Emily said, a hint of defiance in her voice, and their gazes met.

Harry raised his eyebrows, but said nothing except, "We'll be starting in about five minutes, you'd all better get your boots on."

Half an hour into the game and Gryffindor were leading sixty points to zero, Ron having made some truly spectacular saves, some by the very tips of his gloves, and Emily having scored four of Gryffindor's six goals. It seemed as though Gryffindor could do no wrong. Again and again Emily and Ginny got ahold of the quaffle and scored with ease, and again and again, at the other end of the pitch, Ron saved attempts by the Slytherin team. 

Emily gave Ginny a nod from across the pitch as the Slytherin captain Urqhuart, got ahold of the ball and started towards their goal. They both sped down towards him, and Ginny flew into him with such force he dropped the ball. Emily was quick to dive and caught it, making a sharp turn to avoid a bludger hitting her square on the face.

She was racing towards the goal now, ball under her arm. Another bludger came her way and she flipped upside down to avoid it, dropping the ball into Ginny's waiting arm below

"I must admit—" said the drawling voice of Zacharias Smith, the Hufflepuff commenting on the game, "—there's no denying Emily Poole and Ginny Weasly make an incredible team. Still. . .I suppose being friends with the captain gets you an automatic—"

His commentary was drowned out by the victorious roar of Gryffindors in the stands as Ginny batted the ball into the middle hoop.

Just as Emily halted on her broom to give Ginny a pat on the shoulder, Urqhuart gave her a two handed shove in the back, making her lose her balance and tip off her broom. Ginny's hand reached out to grab her, but Emily's robes just slipped through her fingers. There was a collective gasp as Emily fell, arms desperately flailing to grab onto something, a scream escaping from her lips.

"Oh my god," even Zacharias Smith sounded shocked.

Ginny dove after her friend, a determined frown of her face, hand outstretched to catch her. Suddenly, Harry joined her as well and together they grabbed onto Emily's hands, but her momentum took them down with her, and they had trouble pulling her up. Minutes before hitting the ground, Emily yelled at her friends to let go before they crashed with her. They had slowed her down enough to make sure she didn't become an Emily-Pancake and both let go of her a couple of meters off the ground, pulling up hastily. She still hit the ground hard, her knees buckling and intense pain shooting up both her legs. Her face came down and her nose exploded with blood as it collided with her knees. She collapsed sideways on the grass, and she could hear the sharp whistle of Madame Hooch.

"Emily!" she heard Harry's voice exclaim, and someone kneeled down next to her hastily.

Before she could stop them, tears streamed down Emily's face from the pain in her nose and legs, and she sobbed uncontrollably.

"For god's sake, somebody help her!" she heard Ginny say in a panicked tone. Her face was covered in blood and she could barely see anything, but she felt a gloved hand grip hers tightly.

"You're going to be alright," said a voice as she felt her mind drag her into unconsciousness.