New post, since Abi got me... I think you're cheating!

D,
We need to talk. Meet me in our spot at midnight.
~E

Emily tied the letter to Bluejeans’ leg and he flew off. She watched her snowy owl soar through the night sky. She glanced up at the stars. They were bright tonight. Emily leaned against the open window, soaking in the breeze. She rested her chin on her hand and closed her eyes. She glanced behind her as she heard the door open to her dormitory.

“Oh, hello, Hermione,” Emily said quietly.

“Are you okay, Ems?” Hermione asked.

“I’ll be fine. No worries,” Emily smiled slightly. She glanced at her watch. It was eleven-thirty. “Hermione, I’m sorry, but I have to go,” she said as she made for the door.

“Where are you going?” she asked suspiciously.

“I have to go meet...somebody,” she said. Emily walked swiftly from the room before Hermione could question her anymore.

Emily walked through the portrait hole and took a left. She quietly walked down the corridors until she made it to the dungeons. She was surprised that she didn’t run into any trouble seeing as she was out past curfew. She found the abandoned dungeon that used to be occupied nightly by her and Draco.

She shut the door behind her and it echoed off the walls. It felt cold and hollow in their room. She remembered a time when it felt warm and full of love. Emily lit a few of their leftover candles with her wand and found their blankets by their corner. Emily cleaned them off with her wand and snuggled up in them. She felt the silky Slytherin sheet that Draco had given her. She breathed in its scent—it still smelled like him. She frowned slightly, wishing it smelt like mothballs or something. Everything about him, including his scent, made her long for his touch, his love.

She glanced at her watch again. It was five till midnight. He’ll be here soon, Emily thought. She fidgeted in the blankets until she heard the door creak open. There was only one person it could be and it was. Draco came into view, but instead of snuggling up beside her like he used to, he perched himself on top of one of the old, dusty desks.

“Why did you want to meet?” Draco asked with an impassive expression. Emily felt pain as she watched his distance and his coldness.

“We need to talk about your little stunt,” Emily said quietly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.

“Oh, don’t give me that load of dragon dung! You know bloody well what I’m talking about!” Emily said, exasperated.

“It wasn’t a stunt,” he said quietly.

“Don’t even deny it, Draco! You were trying to make me jealous, and I know it!” Emily said angrily.

“Have you ever thought that maybe I like her?” Draco asked.

“Yes, the thought may have occurred to me, but then I dismissed it,” she said quietly.

“And why is that?” Draco asked quietly as he moved closer to her. Emily stood up warily, her back pressed against the wall.

“Because she’s not your type,” Emily whispered.

“Maybe I’m in the mood for something new, something that won’t turn its back on me,” he whispered.

Emily let a tear escape, but he caught it. He wiped it from her cheek. “Dray, I didn’t—what happened—I just needed—” Emily didn’t know what to say. They had always said Forever and Always, and then she left. He was right—she did turn her back on him. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

*~*
“Don’t say it unless you mean it,” Draco whispered. His hand dropped from her cheek and he turned his back on her. She had done it to him. So why couldn’t he do it to her?

“Draco, wait!” she yelled after him. But he didn’t wait. He kept walking. Draco made a decision then and there that he wasn’t dropping his infatuation with Alicia. Emily didn’t want to be with him—she chose that. Forever and Always was dead, no more. Draco slammed the door to the dungeon shut and stalked back to the Slytherin Common Room.

“Hey, Draco, where have you been all night?” Pansy purred as he sat down in one of the armchairs.

“Just out,” Draco snapped.

“You look stressed. How about a massage?” she asked seductively. Draco noticed that her seduction was about as seductive as a pig at mealtime.

He hated his father for this. Pansy Parkinson was destined to marry Draco Malfoy because his stupid prat of a father said so. Draco wanted nothing to do with Pansy; he would much rather somebody else be in his company. But he ruined those chances about five minutes ago.

Pansy moved to the back of the chair and started rubbing Draco’s shoulders. It wasn’t relieving or nice at all. Getting annoyed, Draco stood up quickly.

“I’m not much in the mood for a back rub, Pansy. I’m going to bed,” he said harshly as he walked past her and into his room. He closed the curtains around his bed and lay back against his pillows.

Draco thought about the look on Emily’s face when she was spluttering about how she was sorry. Her eyes held the pain she would never admit to. Draco fell asleep, imagining the warmth of her body against his as they snuggled up, the scent of her hair as he played with her red curls, and the sweet sound of her voice as she whispered in his ear. It was the good old days that he dreamt of, the good old days he missed so much. It was the Forever and Always he wished would come back.