I'm Going to Kill You, Darling

I fell in love with you, she thought, that what changed.
She bit her lip and tried to focus on what Pansy was saying about her outfit and jewellery she planned on wearing to the dance tomorrow, and how should she best ask Draco? Emmeline shrugged as Draco screamed mentally at her, trying to block out all thoughts, something she usually never did.
The bell signalling the end of breakfast caused more students to panic about what lessons they had and if they had done their homework, which was mundane and a relief. Emmeline stayed particularly close to a black haired boy focusing strongly on the use of a particular spell she had heard only in dark whispers of the deepest corners of the cruellest minds.
Sitting behind the boy and his ginger haired friend who was gazing intently at the bushy haired girl in front of them rapidly taking notes and thinking of nothing else but McGonagall, now explaining the finer points of her Animagus transformation.
Emmeline sat, bored, through the lecture. She knew more than the teacher on the subject – she had met, examined and interrogated hundreds of illegal Animagus that had passed through her doors. As hard as she tried to focus on the boys in front of her, Draco’s thoughts were loudest.
Emmeline, be sensible here, just talk to me!
How dare he?
This was the sensible option! Avoiding him was for the better. She could try and be a better person, seeing as her whole world had just been shot down and flipped out.
This was for the greater good - the lesser of two evils. She would learn to control her anger, her wrong justifications, and nobody would die, no matter how much they deserved it.
The morning lessons were tolerable. She had to keep her hand well away from her wand and her mouth firmly shut as she heard some thoughts, but it was the third and lesson of the day that tested her. In Herbology, there were several occasions Emmeline could have wrongly handled. An idiot young boy from the year below walked in with a message to deliver to Madame Sprout. He managed to kill three Mandrakes and get poisonous pus squirted on the majority of the class, apart from the Slytherins, who had congregated together far away from him as soon as Emmeline saw his hand too close to the plant.
It would have been good for him to die. Quickly, for it was only a few minutes before lunch. Sighing, Emmeline stowed her wand away and hurried to the Great Hall before she saw sense and killed the incompetent annoyance. Sitting down on the cold wood of the Slytherin bench, she closed her eyes and tried to find Draco’s thoughts.
Shit, that was thinking-stop.
Bingo!
“Emmeline?”
He was so predictable, she sighed.
“What?”
“Listen, I’m sorry. If you need time or anything - ”
“Draco,” She bit her lip. “I’m the one who should be sorry, I’ve completely ignored you since...since then. And it’s...wrong. Sorry.”
Draco beamed a cheeky smile that Emmeline couldn’t help but return.
“You can show me how sorry you are at the dance, tonight. Remember, 7 sharp.” He kissed her cheek and sat next to her, filling his plate.
“You sound sure of yourself, Draco. This is foolish,” Emmeline commented, taking a bite of her apple. Draco laughed and nodded.
“But you won’t disappoint me, will you, Emmy? Surely you won’t stand me up?”
“I’m contemplating it,” she smirked as Draco took one of her chips.
She stood, patted his head and walked off.
Her hands were sweaty. What was happening? There was something wrong with the food here, surely! Her hands sweating, her heart racing, her stomach fluttery...
She was in love. That was for sure. She would never admit it, though, because what would happen if she did? She wouldn’t be lonely. She wouldn’t cry sometimes at night for the aching, longing need that threatened to crush her. She wouldn’t hear the thoughts of the couples in love and be suddenly gripped with jealousy, rage.
This had to stop!