Fourth Year

She had lost everyone in the chaos.

Emmeline did not know where any of the Weasleys, Harry, or Hermione were.

The Death Eaters had descended upon the tents and set many of them aflame. Curses were flying, people were running and Emmeline was rushed through the paths in the forest, desperately searching for a familiar face.

Suddenly, someone grabbed a hold of her and pulled her deeper into the forest until they were hidden among the trees and shadows.

"No!" she screamed. "Let go of—"

"Emmeline!"

She froze at his familiar voice.

"Draco…" she breathed in relief. "I was…I…There are Death Eaters here." she murmured as she threw her arms around him and found safety in his embrace.

"I know." he murmured into her hair. "I know."

"What's going on? Why are they here? I thought—"

"I don't know, Emmy." he replied as he pulled away from her.

He was lying to her. She knew it and he knew she knew.

"I have to find Harry—"

She felt him tense at the mention of Harry's name.

"'Course you do." he replied and even in the dark, she still knew he rolled his eyes.

"Draco—"

"Come on." he said as he took her hand and began pulling her through the forest.

He led her quickly through the running people and would have continued if she had not stopped short.

"Draco…they're…they're…" she could not form the words. Instead, she pointed into the sky where a Muggle woman was being spin about in the air.

"Emmy, come on!" Draco said, pulling on her arm.

"No!" she tried to wrench her arm out of his grasp. "We have to help them!"

"The Aurors will do that—"

"No!"

"Damn it, Emmeline! We have to go. You have to find Scarhead—"

He needed her to leave with him. Draco couldn't let her have time to figure it out. She couldn't know…but it was too late. She had already seen.

"Draco…Draco…" she whispered. "That's your father." she murmured as she pointed toward of one of the masked men. She could see his long wisps of ice blonde hair.

Draco pulled Emmy to his chest and made her move forward with him.

"That was your father, Draco." she whispered again and again.

He said nothing.

Off in the distance, he heard the voice of Granger.

"That was your father." Emmy was still murmuring with wide eyes.

"I know, Emmy. Look, there are your friends." he murmured as he pushed her toward them lightly. "I'll see you at school, Emmeline." he threw over his shoulder before leaving her.

"Emmeline."

His voice was low and quiet in her ear but she only rolled her eyes.

"What do you want, Ferret Boy?"

He scowled at her, "Don't talk about that."

"You can't say you didn't deserve it, Draco."

"Actually, I can." He insisted superiorly.

Emmy rolled her eyes. "You were going to attack him when his back was turned. You deserved it!"

"Finch-Finchley? Really?" Draco whispered into her ear. "I half-expected Potter to walk in with you on his arm."

"Harry and I are just friends," Emmy said, sick of having to tell Draco that.

"He doesn't want to keep it that way."

"Stop it, Draco." she murmured as she pushed him away slightly. "You're acting like a child."

"Am I? I see how he looks at you—"

"He doesn't look at me in any way, Draco. And if I didn't know better, I'd say you were jealous—"

"Of what? He can have you. What good are you to me—"

With her heart pulsating angrily, she slapped him across the face. "Go back to Pansy, Draco, and stop wasting your time with me." she hissed.

"Diggory was an idiot; he was a fool. His death was his own fault—"

"He was a fool? You're heartless, Draco. How was his murder his own fault?" she demanded incredulously. "How could it ever be construed as his fault?"

"He did not side with th—"

"And you have, haven't you?" Emmy questioned as she felt the tears well up in her eyes again. "You've given in to your Master. Well he's back now and he's already killed someone who did not deserve to die. I wonder how long it will take for his body count to soar," she hissed.

"Emmeline—"

"I will never side with Voldemort, Draco. Never. If you have, tell me now so I can walk away." she shook her head slowly. "I could never lo— I could never stand to see you if you have. Just tell me now, so we can stop wasting our time."

"Diggory des—"

"He didn't deserve to die, Draco. He chose what I would choose. What if it had been me? What if he had killed me? Would you be saying the same thing? Are you even capable about caring about anyone except for yourself?"

"Emmy—"

"Is he your…your Master, Draco? Please, just tell me."

"No, Emmeline. He isn't."

"Not yet." she realized. "But it's going to happen, isn't it?"