Chapter Eight:

When they all arrived back at the Fudge Mansion, all of the Slytherin Quidditch team were glaring at all of the Gryffindor Quidditch team and vise versa. If any one were to pass them, they would know instantly that they all hated each other.

As they walked up the steps to the manor, Emma was very glad to see Midnight because she was tired of all tension. She ran up to the bird and it flew to her shoulder.

If Emma hadn't been too preoccupied by the fact that there was something in front of her that was not mad, then she would have noticed that Midnight had two letters in silver envelopes attached to her leg. But of course, the other people noticed this fact because they, unlike Emma had nothing better to do than notice that

Emma's bird had two letters tied to her leg.

"Black, your bird has a letter to deliver," Draco Malfoy sneered at Emma. He couldn't believe that Emma could be so oblivious as to not notice something like that.

"Yeah, they're the letters I sent you last night, at two in the morning, in reply to your letter," Blaise told Emma in a smug voice that made it seem like he was making fun of Midnight for flying too slowly.

"Shut the bloody hell up, Zabini!" Emma yelled at him as she tried to attack Blaise, but she was unsuccessful on account of Fred and George holding her back. "You can insult me, you can insult my family, but you can't insult my bird or my friends!"

"Temper, temper," Theodore Nott said in a mocking voice as he smiled a smile that looked more like a grimace than a smile.

If any of the Slytherin House Quidditch team had known Emma very well, they would have known not to go any further because they would know that you never want to get on Emma's bad side.

By this point, Emma's eyes were blazing and when she finally broke free of her friend's hands; she jumped on to Theodore and started to fight with him the way most muggles fight with each other.

She was too busy trying to destroy Theodore to notice the shouts of warning of her friends'. So when she was grabbed by the shoulders, Emma let out a shriek and fell down with so much force that she brought down her attacker on top of her.

Thinking it was one of her fellow Gryffindors, she started to say, "Get off..." but she stopped mid-sentence when she looked up and saw no other than Draco Malfoy.

As soon as they looked at each other, Emma's face turned as red as a tomato. If it had been someone else, Emma would have just pushed him/her away, but she was too stunned at the fact that the person of whom she had had a major crush on since her first year and his second year was now on top of her.

When she finally gained control of her limbs, Draco said, "Black, what you did that for? I was simply trying to get you off of Theodore."

"Well, I didn't ask you to grab me out of no where when I was busy doing something and would you mind getting off of me? You're making my legs go to sleep," Emma said in response and Draco finally got up off of her. "God, how much do you weigh?"

Draco, instead of answering her, just walked up the stairs into the Fudge Manor followed by the other Slytherins.

"What was that?" Harry asked as they, too, walked up the stairs.

"What was what?" Emma asked in return, but Harry didn't take it. "Oh, that. Back there?" Harry nodded. "Um, Nott got on my nerves, and then Malfoy scared me to death so that I fell down and brought him with me."

"Right..." Harry started.

"Shouldn't we go and make sure that the Slytherins aren't up to something?" Ginny asked interrupting Harry.

"Yeah, we should. I really don't like the idea of seven Slytherins, unsupervised, roaming around in my house."

"I understand that completely. Maybe after we find them, we should go to the Quidditch pitch," Jenny put in.

"Yeah, let's go," Emma said.

When they all finally made outside to the Quidditch pitch, the Gryffindors all heard the Slytherins snort when they saw it, but they didn't pay any attention to them. They were listening to Emma, who was reading Blaise and Elizabeth's letters. They read:

Dearest Gryffindor Team,
I was surprised by your last letter. Your spectators will be happy to know that Professor Snape will not be making any mistakes; he is a qualified Quidditch referee, and all we can say is that we hope you all can stay on your brooms, because this might just be us, but we don't keep Mediwizards at our places of residence. I look forward to joining you tomorrow, and I will be glad to get this wretched mess over with so I can stop corresponding with you lot. I am sick of this! At least use proper grammar! Honestly, maybe you should all be instructed in Muggle grammar and literature.
Oh, by the way, I'm, not typically awake at two in the morning on Sunday nights. Also, your last letter made me very angry, and when I'm angry, I tend to take it out in Quidditch. I feel sorry for those who will be playing Chaser against me.
I sincerely hope that this letter wakes you up and your owl pokes the eyes out of a certain Ron Weasley.
Sleep tight,
Elizabeth M. Malfoy

Gryffindors,
Congratulations! You have successfully managed to make my girlfriend thoroughly pissed. Thanks very much for your kind deeds. You know, I almost felt bad for a moment. But then I let the feeling of pity go. Personally, I wouldn't want to insult Elizabeth, (alright, sometimes I can't help myself), but I figure if you do, it's your funeral.
Draco is much closer to Elizabeth than I am, (logically), so I expect you'll be getting a letter from him too. I'm just the one whom Elizabeth woke up when your owl got her up at two AM.
Well, I suppose we should keep our emotions under guard until tomorrow, when we kick your red and gold asses in Quidditch.
Sleep tight,
Blaise V. Zabini