"What the bloody stuff are you doing here?!? You're not a Gryffindor, are you?" yelled Harry in alarm.
"Now how do you know? For your information, as an exchange student from Beauxbatons, I have been recently sorted into this god damn house. It's quite not that special, to tell you. The halls are quite cold here, unlike my old school. Anyways, I'm here, so deal with it, Potter!" the mysterious Emma, again, spat out.
Harry just stood there, staring at her with pure hatrid and loath for her. He was about to say something, but decided against it. He calmly walked back up the staircase and into his four-poster bed. That night, he twisted and turned in his sleep.
……a young boy of about six years old was playing out in the yard. He had his ruddy old play-truck with him, with the paint peeling off. It had once belonged to his fat-arse cousin, but broken as it was, gave it unwillingly to him. A little chubby girl with brunette pigtails came skipping along the sidewalk the little boy was playing on. She halted before Harry and spat, "Hey little boy. What's that you got? Your mum too poor to afford a better truck than that piece of shite? Ha, your mum's probably out there scavenging for food about now, eh?"
The little boy stood up, looking right up at the girl, for she was a foot taller than him. "You take that back! Besides, my mum isn't here anymore." A tear slipped from his bright, green eyes.
"Aww, is little baby Harry sad? I'm so soreh….not!! Then she quickly grabbed the only toy Harry had and ran off with it. "Haha," she laughed maniacally as she ran away, never returning Harry's ruddy truck ever again. "I hate you, Emma! I hate you…….
Harry suddenly awoke from his taunting nightmare, screaming the words 'I hate you' into the air. He panted, as if he just ran a marathon non-stop.
"Ei, mate.What's up? You were all shaking like you were in a fit or something, " his redheaded buddy whispered, trying not to wake the others, as he pulled the curtains apart.
"Aaaah…..just had a nightmare, nothing else. Soreh to wake you up, mate. It's nothing, just go back to sleep. I'll be fine," Harry lied.
Ron looked at Harry, wondering what he should do. In the end, he gave in and went to sleep, trusting Harry that he was really okay. Harry closed the curtains and pondered on his nightmare. The brunette kept popping up in his head, mocking him. Soon, he realized that the girl's name was Emma, from next door. He wondered if she was the same Emma he had bumped into in Hogsmeade. The same girl who mocked him whenever she saw him in the halls or in the commons. They were both brunettes, except the Emma from his nightmare was real chubby, unlike the other, who was as thin as a brittle stick. No, not that thin, but she wasn't chubby either. As he pondered, he felt drowzy and kept dozing off to sleep. Finally, his dozing off led to a deep, profound dream of everything and nothing; well it didn't inlude the evil Emma in his dream.
Awaking next morning, he got dressed, did all the essential stuff, then waited for Hermione and Ron next to the portrait opening. What's taking them so long? He stared up at Hermione's door, and it finally opened. What he saw next blew him hard, like being punched in the stomach or getting slapped extremely hard. Hermione was ever-so-happily chit-chatting with his enemy, Emma. They seemed to be in deep conversation about something, or someone. "Oh, hey Harry! This is the new exchange student from Beauxbatons, you know, that school where they dress up so formally and fashionally. Name's Emma." Harry stood still, but Hermione glared at him; she wanted him to say something. Harry wanting to be polite and not rude, murmured, "Pleasure." Then he asked, " So, where's Ron? We should be heading to Hogsmeade about now, but wince everyone everywhere else, running amock, with other people, I just don't know what's happening anymore." Harry's temper began to rise, so he turned around to calm himself down. "I think I'll just wait outside, 'k Herms. See ya." He headed straight out and was relieved to be able to finally breath again. A warm, intense heat of hatrid rose between Emma and Harry everytime they were around each other. Maybe she was the same person as the evil bitch in his dreams……