Chapter 10 – Mudblood

After they left Lockhart's room, Emma noticed that Hermione and Ron were bleeding. They were only minor cuts, and she wasn't hungry, not since Madam Pomfrey changed her feeding schedule, but it was still bugging her. There was something about following behind Ron that took her attention in a way she didn't like. It felt odd, like it was scratching an itch she didn't know she had. Before they even made it down the first corridor to their next lesson, Emma had to do something.

'Please, stop a minute.' asked Emma, getting out her wand. 'Hermione, let me see your arm.'

Hermione looked at Emma questioningly, but she did as she was asked, and that was when she saw the small bite mark that one of the pixies had done.

'Oh, I didn't even notice that.' she said, awkwardly, before whispering. 'Sorry.'

'Episkey' incanted Emma, pointing her wand at the cut, and it vanished immediately, along with any blood that had dripped down her arm.

'Thanks.' smiled Hermione.

Emma then turned to Ron, who had a few bites on his ear and arm, and moved closer to him, but he flinched away from her.

'What?' asked Emma, feeling slighted.

'Last time you got close, you hit me.'

'You shouldn't have been mean to Hermione then, should you?' she said, curtly. 'And stop being a baby.'

She then grabbed his arm, roughly, and healed his cuts, along with the one on his ear, and even healed the mark on his face from her slap. Hopefully this earned a place back into his good books, but then again, he was a very stubborn Gryffindor.

The rest of the week went by without any issue. Emma hadn't lost her temper once, or bawled her eyes out, and, in fact, she was having a bit of a laugh, albeit at Harry's expense.

Instead of Emma hiding from Lockhart, because she knew he wasn't a threat any more, Harry started to do it. Lockhart always made a point of chiding Harry about his apparent attempts to be more famous, and Harry had had enough. It got even funnier when Colin started turning up in the corridors, between every class, to say 'All right, Harry?', as if it were the most exciting thing in the world, which only made Harry more irritable.

After two days of that, Emma started to feel sorry for him, and would give him some advanced warning to hide. She expected him to ask how she was able to do it, but it seemed he and Ron had long since chalked it up to one of her peculiarities and stopped questioning it. Besides, he was all too happy to take it at face value if it meant avoiding Lockhart.

On the Saturday morning, the first weekend back at Hogwarts, Emma had just gotten back from an uneventful night exploring, and was lounging on her back on a sofa in the common room, with Nephthys on her stomach, having another conversation, when Hermione came down.

'Thought I could hear you two.' she said, smiling as she sat opposite them.

'Morning, Hermione.' said Emma, and Nephthys cawed at her too.

'Thanks, Nephy.' laughed Hermione, looking down to Emma. 'Have the boys gone to breakfast yet?'

'No, Ron's still snoring, but Harry's down practising Quidditch. Saw him with Colin while I was on my way back.'

Hermione perked up at that. 'Ooh, we should go and watch then!'

'Eurgh.' groaned Emma. 'Do we have to?'

If there was one thing Emma found more boring than anything else, it would be Quidditch. Emma had never liked sports, of any kind, and that Quidditch was played on brooms only made it worse. She had failed her flying lessons the previous year because none of the school brooms responded to her at all. It was like she didn't exist. Emma presumed it was because she was a vampire, or maybe it was her reluctance to fly, but either way, she wasn't a fan.

'Of course.' replied Hermione, smirking. 'Nephy hasn't seen a game yet, and I'm sure she'll enjoy it, won't you, Nephy?'

Nephthys looked between the two girls and then pecked Emma on the chest.

'Ow, all right, all right, I'll go with you.' sighed Emma, pouting. 'Hermione, that was mean.'

Emma turned to look at her and she was giggling to herself, completely unrepentant.

When Ron finally woke up, the three of them, Emma, with Nephthys on her shoulder, Hermione, and Ron, walked down to the Great Hall where Hermione and Ron got a few slices of toast each and then continued to the Quidditch pitch. As soon as they were outdoors, Nephthys flew off, circling above them as they went.

It didn't take them long to get to the stands around the pitch, but when they got up to the top, they found that it was empty, except for one person, Colin Creevy, who was sat much further down. He was still nearly bouncing on his seat, unable to contain his own energy.

'Are we too late?' asked Emma, hopeful.

'I'm sure they'll be along soon.' said Hermione. 'They're probably going over tactics in the changing rooms.'

Soon was quite a severe understatement as they were in there for over an hour, and with Emma and Hermione talking about their Potions homework, Ron was left bored out of his mind.

'Aren't you finished yet?' he called to Harry, as they finally made their way out of the changing rooms.

'Haven't even started.' said Harry. 'Wood's been teaching us new moves.'

Harry then got on his broom and flew circles around the pitch, looking rejuvenated. Moments later, Emma noticed a familiar clicking sound coming from Colin. He was snapping photographs of Harry and the team, though mostly Harry, like there was no tomorrow.

The Gryffindor team had started practice, despite Wood noticing Colin, and in his paranoia, thought he was spying on them, when the Slytherins turned up in their Quidditch robes. Wood was furious and flew down to meet them, starting an argument.

Emma, Hermione and Ron immediately got up and descended to ground level to see what was going on.

'Oh look.' said Flint, as the three of them approached. 'A pitch invasion.'

'What's happening?' asked Ron, to Harry. 'Why aren't you playing? And what's he doing here?'

By he, Ron was referring to Draco, dressed immaculately in green Slytherin Quidditch robes.

'I'm the new Slytherin Seeker, Weasley.' he said, smugly. 'Everyone's just been admiring the brooms my father's bought our team.'

Ron's jaw dropped. A part of him was obviously jealous of the brand-new brooms, but also repulsed that they belonged to the Slytherin team.

'Good, aren't they?' said Draco, milking the attention for all it's worth. 'But perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms, too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives, I expect a museum would bid for them.'

The whole Slytherin team burst out laughing, and the Gryffindor team looked dejected.

'At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in.' said Hermione, sharply. 'They got in on pure talent.'

Draco's face froze for a second and then turned into a sneer.

'No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood.'

It took a split-second for Emma to realise what had just happened. Draco had insulted Hermione, that much was clear, but she didn't know what it meant at first.

'Mudblood.' repeated Emma, slowly, in her head. 'Mud – blood.'

She was already angry at Draco, for even trying to insult Hermione, but when, a few seconds later, she finally realised what he was calling her, she lost it. Not only was he insulting her best friend, but the only two adults she considered family.

The anger she felt toward Ron when she slapped him was nothing compared to this. She was shaking with rage now, crouching into a position she could leap at Draco with, and a small part of her brain realised that all her fingernails had grown into inch-long claws, like the ones she saw her mother with.

Just as she was about to leap, Hermione's right-hand grabbed Emma's left-wrist, very tightly, like a vice, distracting her. She didn't register pain, but it still gave her pause, to try to think. The hand had helped, but if it hadn't been quickly followed by a very stern glare, Emma wouldn't have stopped. It was the look on Hermione's face that really made her back off. It told her just how close she had come to ending Draco's life, right then and there, and consequently, also her own.

At least she had had the presence of mind, or maybe it was simply instinct, to hide herself, so the exchange between the two of them went unnoticed. It also helped that the Gryffindor team were beginning to show their own outrage, when Fred and George, not having a Hermione to hold them back, dived at Draco, who was then protected by the Slytherin team captain, Marcus Flint.

Still, Emma couldn't shake off the rage though. She stood upright again, trying to contain herself, but Hermione didn't dare let go of her wrist, her knuckles going white from holding on so tight.

Thinking of calming things weren't helping and neither was thinking about Nephthys, so Emma tried the opposite alternative, imagining herself strangling Draco with her bare hands. It was very cathartic, and she started glaring at him as she was staring him in the eyes.

It was as she stared at him that she noticed a look of fear spread over his face. She was gleeful at the sight, hoping that he knew what she was thinking, but then she noticed Ron in her peripheral vision, pointing his wand at Draco, and her ego deflated a little.

A loud bang echoed through the stadium, followed by a spectacular green light that hit Ron squarely in the chest, throwing him backwards. It seemed he tried to cast a spell, and because his wand was broken, it backfired.

'Ron! Ron! Are you all right?' squealed Hermione.

She still hadn't let go of Emma's arm, though it was nowhere near as tight as it had been. It was now more of a reminder than a manacle.

Ron opened his mouth to speak, but instead of words, he belched and ended up spitting out a number of slimy slugs into his lap. Emma immediately looked away, anger forgotten as she tried desperately not to throw up. She wasn't very squeamish, but she was sure she could hear more slugs moving around in his stomach, and the mental image was disturbing to say the least.

The Slytherins fell about laughing, as if they'd never seen something so hilarious, however, the Gryffindors all gathered around Ron, trying not to get too close, but still offer support.

'We'd better get him to Hagrid's, it's nearest.' said Harry to Hermione.

Emma was still hiding, and had clasped her hands over her ears to block out as much sound as possible. If only she'd stolen those earmuffs from Herbology.

She followed, from a distance, trying not to step on any slugs Ron had choked up, as Hermione and Harry carried Ron from the stadium to Hagrid's hut at the edge of the forest.

'Nearly there, Ron.' said Hermione, clearly not enjoying the situation any more than Emma was. 'You'll be all right in a minute … almost there...'

When the others got within twenty feet of the hut, they saw the front door open, but it was Lockhart who exited, not Hagrid, and, naturally, Harry dodged out of sight, taking Hermione and Ron with him. Lockhart turned around and started talking to Hagrid, but there was no way Emma was going to remove her hands from her ears to eavesdrop. There was nothing Lockhart could say that would be worth listening to anyway, and it took a few minutes for him to finally leave.

When he'd disappeared out of sight, Emma made herself noticeable again, moved up ahead of the others and kicked the door, lightly, to avoid using her hands, as they caught up.

When Hagrid opened the door, he looked very grumpy, but he quickly cheered up when he saw the four of them.

'Bin wonderin' when you'd come ter see me – come in, come in – thought you mighta bin Professor Lockhart back again.'

Emma walked in and got the attention of Hagrid's dog, Fang, so he didn't end up knocking Hermione, Harry or Ron over while he was having his slug attack. She appreciated the distraction he offered, as he was a very affectionate dog, always begging for fuss, and getting his slobber everywhere. She'd still take that over slugs though. Hagrid, however, didn't have a problem with them, it seemed. He just passed a basin over to Ron for him to be sick into.

'Better out than in.' he said, cheerfully. 'Get 'em all up, Ron.'

'I don't think there's anything to do except wait for it to stop.' said Hermione, anxiously. 'That's a difficult curse to work at the best of times, but with a broken wand...'

'What did Lockhart want with you, Hagrid?' asked Harry.

'Givin' me advice on getting' kelpies out of a well.' growled Hagrid, clearing his table and setting down his teapot. 'Like I don' know. An' bangin on about some Banshee he banished. If one word of it was true, I'll eat my kettle.'

Emma's eyes went wide when she heard that, even through her hands on her ears. It was nice to see that someone else saw through Lockhart's facade.

'So you think he's a fraud too?' asked Emma.

'Yes, I ruddy well do.' he said, firmly.

'But Dumbledore hired him, so he must have thought he was the best man for the job.' said Hermione.

'He was the on'y man for the job.' said Hagrid, offering Hermione and Harry some treacle toffee. 'An' I mean the on'y one. Gettin' very difficult ter find anyone fer the Dark Arts job. People aren't too keen ter take it on, see. They're startin' ter think it's jinxed. No one's lasted long fer a while now.'

Emma winced as Ron threw up a few more slugs.

'So tell me,' said Hagrid, nodding his head toward Ron. 'who was he tryin' ter curse?'

'Malfoy called Hermione something. It must've been really bad, because everyone went mad.' said Harry.

'It was bad.' said Ron, nearly unintelligibly, as he threw up another slug.

'He called her a Mudblood.' spat Emma, her blood boiling again.

Like all but the Slytherins, Hagrid looked outraged.

'He didn'!' he growled, looking to Hermione.

'He did.' she said, weakly. 'But I don't know what it means. I could tell it was really rude, of course...'

'It's about the most insulting thing he could think of.' gasped Ron.

'It's quite simple.' said Emma, anger clearly leaking into her voice. 'He's calling your blood dirty, because your parents are muggles. Mud... blood.'

Emma couldn't control her anger and she slammed her hand down onto the table, making the others flinch, even Hagrid.

'But why?' she demanded, continuing. 'Why do they care so much? So what that Hermione's parents are muggles, they're wonderful, and she's the best student here!'

'There are some wizards – like the Malfoy family – who think they're better than everyone else, because they're pure-blood.' said Ron, burping up another slug, making Emma retch. 'I mean, the rest of us know it doesn't make any difference at all. Look at Neville Longbottom – he's pure-blood and he can hardly stand a cauldron the right way up.'

'An' Emma's right, they haven't invented a spell our Hermione can't do.' said Hagrid, proudly.

Emma grinned as Hermione blushed a brilliant shade of magenta.

'It's a disgusting thing to call someone.' said Ron, shakily wiping his forehead. 'Emma got it. Dirty blood – common blood -'

Emma ignored the entire rest of her time at Hagrid's hut. She remembered the moment Draco said it, and felt her anger getting worse, but she wasn't losing control now. No, now she had a focus for it. Draco was going to pay.