Chapter 21 – Alone

Emma ran to the library, hiding herself all the way until she got to her usual table, hidden in a dark corner. She put her bag down and went to find a couple of Charms books to start her homework. She knew that Hermione would be along any minute now and needed something to distract her, to take the smug, clearly-guilty smile off her face.

It was surprising how quick it worked. She'd just killed someone, and should be far more affected by it, but she was able to put it out of her mind like it was nothing more important than what the weather was the previous day.

As she was working, her face a mask of concentration, Hermione did come looking for her, and given her quick stride, Emma could tell she was angry.

'What have I done this time?' asked Emma, sarcastically, before Hermione had come round the corner.

When she saw Emma, Hermione was very surprised. Emma could see it in her peripheral vision, the confusion, the suspicion, the worry, all cross her face one after the other. She hadn't looked up from her work, worried that doing so might distract her, and give herself away.

Eventually, Hermione sat down opposite her and pulled out her own work.

'Nothing.' she sighed, looking tired. 'It's just, Malfoy crashed his broom at Quidditch.'

Emma looked up, impassive, before going back to work, pretending to be bored. 'Good.'

Hermione narrowed her eyes, clearly suspicious. 'Professor Snape took him to the Hospital Wing, and Madam Pomfrey thinks he may have to be transferred to St. Mungo's, but he should make a full recovery.'

Emma snapped the quill she was holding in half as her anger got the better of her, but she at least managed to keep it off her face.

'I need another book.' she said, curtly, and rushed off to a far bookshelf, made herself unnoticeable and screamed out loud in fury.

Unbeknownst to her, Hermione quickly opened Emma's bag and took out her map. Even if she believed Emma may have tried to kill Draco again, she wasn't certain, and thought she should keep an eye on her whereabouts over the next few days, just in-case.

After that, the two of them didn't exchange another word until Hermione left, an hour later. Also being suspicious, Emma followed her out. She wanted to know what Hermione and the boys were saying about her behind her back, but as she began to fall in step a good distance behind Hermione, she stopped. She had realised that she was hunting Hermione, and she collapsed on the floor, crying.

Things had truly gotten very bad if she was at a point where she could see Hermione as prey. It conflicted with her entire being, and she became angry, yet again, at the one responsible for her suffering. He was still alive, barely, despite her best efforts, but that was going to change. This time she needed to take direct action. Once Draco was out of the way, everything would go back to the way they were, she was sure of it.

Emma waited in the Room of Hidden Things until after midnight, focusing her rage to a knife-edge, and then ran straight to the Hospital Wing, making sure she was hidden. Once she was outside the door, she stopped to listen. There were only two people breathing inside, Madam Pomfrey, in her office, asleep, and Draco, in one of the cots, still unconscious.

She opened the door noiselessly, and sneaked inside the dark room, straight toward Draco's cot. She looked at him, an innocently peaceful expression on his face, despite him being in such a terrible state, and yet her resolve didn't falter even an inch. She leaned over him, using her fury to extend her fingernails into claws and put them lightly against his throat, taking in every last detail of his face. After a few seconds, however, she was reminded of Hermione, one of the few people who knew about her claws, and she staggered backwards, frenzied. Emma couldn't kill him that way, it would be far too obvious.

Instead, Emma quickly went to the next cot and grabbed a pillow, firming it up and stepping back to Draco's cot. She was about to place it over his face, to smother him, when suddenly she felt a strange sensation in her back and the pillow dropped out of her hands.

She turned around, to see none other than Hermione, standing in the doorway of the Hospital Wing, with her wand pointed right at Emma, and an expression on her face that she couldn't even begin to describe.

'You're going to follow me, or I will make sure Dumbledore finds out everything you've done.' said Hermione, in a calm tone that surprised the both of them.

Hermione was currently anything but calm, and she looked at Emma for no more than a second after her declaration, before turning and leaving the Hospital. Emma too turned, back to Draco, her fury still not abated, and picked up the pillow again, desperate to get him out of her life, yet all she could think about now was that intense look on Hermione's face.

Eventually, Emma's instincts for self preservation won out over her need to kill the filthy pure-blood, and she threw the pillow back onto the floor and left, following Hermione's scent.

She was led to a disused classroom, not too far from where the Mirror of Erised had been the year before. Hermione was stood in the middle of the room, looking down at a thick stack of parchment. Emma recognised it as her map, and when she closed the door, Hermione finally looked at her, holding it out for her to take it back.

She just stood there, glaring, her eyes glowing faintly and her claws still out. Hermione sighed and put the map down on a table between them.

'I tried to tell myself it wasn't you. I even told the boys. I said you wouldn't try it again, you promised, but of course, that was another lie.' she said, shaking her head. 'I give up.'

Emma waited for a short while, for Hermione to continue, but she didn't.

'Is that it?' she asked, raising her voice, shouting. 'After everything he's done? Ruining our friendship, calling you a Mudblood, trying to kill you, and I'm meant to just let him get away with that?'

'Ruining our friendship? You think Malfoy did that?' said Hermione, mirroring Emma's tone.

'Of course he did!' yelled Emma. 'And you stopped me from getting rid of him, and now he'll just keep making it worse! I can't believe you did that!'

Emma stepped forward, quickly and impulsively, brandishing her claws at Hermione, making her flinch backward. Emma was clearly incensed.

'You're going to kill me now?' asked Hermione, tilting her head to the side, scared of Emma for the first time in over a year.

'Kill you?' asked Emma, furious. 'I've done nothing but protect you!'

'Oh, yes, don't think I didn't notice that!' snapped Hermione, sarcastically. 'That every time you lost control or got angry it was when someone was hurtful to me. You think I like that you want to kill Draco because of me? You want me to thank you for it? You've really lost it.'

'Of course I do. You should be happy! He ruined everything! Ever since he called you a Mudblood.'

'No, Emma. You did that all by yourself when you turned feral!'

Emma was becoming so enraged with Hermione for not understanding that she took one of the chairs next to her and turned, raising it above her head before smashing it onto the floor. She turned again to see Hermione had moved back a few steps and even had her wand pointed at her. She looked terrified.

'I would never hurt you!' said Emma, trying to calm herself down again, 'You're my best friend.'

'No, I'm not.' said Hermione, clearly struggling, on the verge of tears. 'You're so beyond irrational now, I don't even know who you are any more.'

'What?' gasped Emma, confused.

Emma felt an unusual stab of pain in her chest, and the anger drained from her system. Her claws shrunk back into nails and her eyes stopped glowing.

'If you can't help yourself from hurting people because they're mean to me.' she sniffed. 'Then I'm going to remove the temptation.'

There was a long pause before Hermione spoke again, as she wiped her eyes, and Emma was really getting worried now.

'Emma, you're not my friend any more and I don't want to talk to you ever again.'

She then rushed out of the room, tears streaming down her face, leaving Emma in a complete state of shock.

Emma stayed in the disused classroom, unable to move or process what had happened, for several hours. Even though she knew it was going to happen sooner or later, and feared it, but now that it had finally happened, it didn't feel real. She could only hope that it was an implanted memory, like the ones she could give.

When she eventually left the following afternoon, she pocketed her map and went to the common room, to put it back in her bag, but mainly to see Hermione again.

When she got inside, Harry and Ron gave her death-stares, making it very clear that she wasn't welcome. Hermione didn't even look up, and Emma could tell she was still crying, the side of her cheeks were blotchy, and she was sniffing.

Emma really wanted to mend the rift in their friendship, and took a pace toward the three of them, but the boys stood up, threateningly. It was enough to get the attention of a lot of the other Gryffindors who were now looking at Emma like she was a monster. Sulking, Emma went up to her room, got her bag and left again, going to the library.

Over the next two days, Emma tried everything she could think of to get Hermione to be friends with her again. Begging and pleading, leaving a note, sending a note with Nephthys, but the boys never left her side and would tear up and burn any note she left. Emma began to think they were behaving like Crabbe and Goyle did for Draco. It certainly didn't help that Hermione would never look in Emma's direction. In classes she had taken to sitting at the back with Harry and Ron, leaving Emma to sit at the front, alone.

The extent of the alienation from her friends was quickly catching up to her, and as it progressed, so did her coldness. That first Sunday afternoon she had had an almost complete breakdown, bawling her eyes out for hours in the Room of Hidden Things, but by the Tuesday evening, she was almost completely devoid of emotion. She could feel herself slipping away, losing her humanity.

That night, after everyone had gone to bed, Emma decided enough was enough. If they didn't want her any more, then they'll have their wish. She went to her dormitory, a few feet away from Hermione, and cast a feather-light charm on her trunk, picked it up, levitated Nephthys' cage ahead of her, and left.

She went up to the seventh floor and stowed her trunk away in Barnabas' curious room, and then made her way down to the Entrance Hall, and to Hagrid's hut. Nephthys woke up when they got outside, however, and was curious to know what they were doing, flying out of the cage and onto her shoulder.

'I'm sorry, Nephy, I'm not going to be able to look after you any more.' said Emma, with what little emotion she had left before it vanished. 'I'm taking you to Hagrid's. He'll take care of you.'

Nephthys pecked her on the side of the head and cawed in her ear, loudly, clearly unhappy.

'I know. I don't like it either.' replied Emma, a single tear forming in her left eye. 'But you'll get to be outside with Hagrid. If you stay with me, you'll be stuck indoors, and I won't be good company.'

Nephthys continued to protest all the way to Hagrid's, and when Emma deposited the cage in front of the giant's door, Nephthys wouldn't get down from Emma's shoulder.

'Nephy... please.' she choked, and after a few seconds, the bird flew onto one of the fences by Hagrid's hut and cawed at her, angrily.

'I'll miss you.' said Emma, the tear escaping and rolling down her cheek.

When Emma finally returned to the Room of Hidden Things, however, that sentiment was lost, along with every other emotion. She actually felt that it was amazingly peaceful. There was no anger, or sadness and certainly no loneliness. She was now entirely care-free.

Over the next few weeks, Emma became a creature of habit. She always arrived at her lessons just before they were due to start, took her notes diligently and looked at only the teacher or her work. As soon as the bell rang to leave, she was gone. In the corridors she remained hidden at all times, and avoided everyone as much as possible. During her breaks and free time, she returned to the hidden room.

A number of students, particularly Hermione, Harry and Ron, had noted her absence, both physically and emotionally. It wasn't surprising considering her face was devoid of feeling, and her eyes were cold and empty. She'd heard Hermione sob quietly during a lesson, but she really didn't care why. She'd made her choice.

Some teachers had noticed as well, particularly Professor Flitwick, who had remarked on Emma's ability to cast a charm they were supposed to be learning, before he'd even told them what the incantation was. He'd awarded her house points and when she neither smiled, nor ducked her head in embarrassment, he asked if she was feeling alright, which she simply ignored and went back to writing her notes.

Aside from going to lessons on time and hiding away during the day, she would still sneak around the school during the evening and at night. Her hard-wired need to explore hadn't gone anywhere. It was during one of these excursions, about half-an-hour before curfew, when she passed the Hospital Wing, and overheard a conversation between Madam Pomfrey, and Hermione.

'What's wrong with her?' asked Hermione, sobbing.

Confused, Emma got closer to the door. She wasn't going to go inside as Hermione was the only one who could make herself see Emma when she was hiding, and she didn't want to risk it.

'I'm afraid I don't know.' said Madam Pomfrey, solemnly. 'My knowledge on these matters isn't very extensive.'

'But you can make an educated guess... can't you?' stammered Hermione.

'Yes, I suppose so.' replied the matron, hesitantly. 'I suspect she's turned off her humanity, her emotions, to protect herself.'

Emma frowned at that. Were they talking about her.

'To protect herself? W-what do you mean?'

'Yes. If her emotions had gotten as strong as we think they did, perhaps your last encounter was simply too much for her. If she was unable to cope, then letting the vampire take over would shield her from the pain.'

'So she's gone feral?' gasped Hermione.

'No, I wouldn't say so necessarily. Feral vampires crave blood and hunt with impunity, but that's not Miss Pearson, is it?' said Madam Pomfrey, and Hermione shook her head. 'I expect the only difference between her now and before is her lack of emotions. I would still recommend caution, however. Emma is very intelligent, and now lacking a conscience, if provoked, she could be extremely dangerous, even to you.'

Emma had heard enough by then and moved on. Madam Pomfrey was wrong. No matter what Hermione did to her, she'd never hurt her, and that point was proven one Saturday morning on the second week of March. She was wandering around the school because it was a Quidditch match that day, and everyone was outside at the pitch, or so she thought.

She'd checked her map shortly before eleven o'clock in the morning, to see if anyone was still around, and she'd noticed Hermione in the library, alone. It was unusual for her to go anywhere without the boys, so Emma went to investigate, only she never got there.

When she rounded one of the corners that led to the library, she found a horrific sight that kick-started her emotions again and put them into overdrive.

There, on the floor, was Hermione, and she was as still as a statue.