AN: Here's the next chapter. This one was revised the most. To tell the truth, there was a romance scene at the end. But I had to take it out. I apologize. Soon, I promise, soon. When it is most appropriate for the scene, it will be grand. That is, if course, if I can write it. Sometimes I can't write romance scenes!

Shameless promoting: read my other stories! Before the Wake is a good story, read it (it's about pre-Harry through the eyes of a Slytherin girl). It's not long at all. And it's a good read.

More shameless promoting: read the Rise and Fall. It's a story that I'm actually working on! YAY! I'm almost done with the next chapter. In fact, I'm almost done with the next chapter for this one. YAY!

Chapter Twenty: Distraught Secrets

"Professor!" one of them cried. Sirius stepped into the room, and she heard two of them gasp.

"This is..." she paused. "One of Dumbledore's recruits to help us get the castle back. His name is Edward, and he'll help you all to Dumbledore." They started to talk, but she held up your hand. "I do not want to alarm you, but there are Death Eaters crawling outside. It is of the highest importance that you all remain quiet and cautious." Sirius leaned into her ear and whispered something.

"Ron and Hermione know who I really am," he spoke softly into her hair. "But it's all right. They won't give anything away."

She nodded, feeling his breath and his face against her skin, smooth and warm...and then, just as if it were, it was gone. He was talking softly to some of them, and Emilia was trying to quickly come up with how they plan to get out of her and into the Hufflepuff Dormitories.

"Si-er, Edward," she said, correcting herself, and turned to him. "What if you take ten—and I take ten? Then we can split the group in half and keep a better eye on them."

He nodded, and counted up a random ten—which included Ron and Hermione as one of them. She didn't think that was accidental, but didn't say anything. "Good luck, Edward," she added, as he escorted them out of the door.

He gave her a playful grin. "I can only do what I can, Em," he replied, and walked out the door cautiously. She stood there for a second, and then realized that he called her, "Em." She didn't take as an insult but she didn't take as a complement, either. Since when were they on a nickname basis? It didn't occur to her that maybe it was just pulling her leg, but she was paranoid when it came to her name. Nicknames irked her to no end. She had grown up with having only her real first name used, and she'd never had a nickname before. But, admist all that was going on, she ignored it and started to play attention to the clock on the far wall.

She made them wait a full ten minutes before they continued out themselves. Emilia paused when she opened the door, and listened for any voices. She heard none. "Come," she said, walking out the door slowly. She paused in the hallway, and listened for anything as they filtered out of the classroom. "Keep quiet," she reminded them. "And follow me."

She lead them to the Hufflepuff Dormitories without any problems...it was unnerving that they'd managed to get so far so fast without any delay...she had the entrance open and all of them were in—she was just about to close the door when—

"Emilia?" a voice asked. She whipped her head around. The voice was neither angry nor happy; it was the voice of Minerva McGonagall.

She was very bloody and she was very tired. She had gashes on her face and arms, and bruises were prominent all over. Her sleep robes were torn, and her hair was completely down in a glossy black mess. Emilia's first impression was that she looked simply terrible.

"Minerva!" she whispered, taking her hand off the door, cautiously moving away from the entrance. "Oh, Minerva, we've been so worried as to where you might have been!" She walked over to her friend and put her hand on her shoulder. "God, what happened to you?"

She looked up at Emilia, with a glassy look in her eyes. "Emilia, it's been terrible..." she swallowed hard. Emilia couldn't help but feel sympathy, and it tore at her heart. But...the question still remained...where had she been before? And of all places, to turn up right near where Dumbledore was...or where the Death Eaters suspected they were...

Emilia took another step back. This was not Minerva. She could tell, in her heart, that this was a cut and paste impostor. Trying not to let "Minerva" figure out, she took a deep breath. "Minerva, where were you? We've been so worried."

"I—" she paused. This was not an Imperius Curse victim, she could tell, because that would have been one of the answers the Death Eaters had given her. It would have been to sway her caution. So that left two options. Emilia had been around these sort of victims before. She knew all their tricks; her father had taught her everything she knew.

The two options were either that was the real Minerva, and that she was a pawn for the Death Eaters (on the bargain of her life). She didn't really know Minerva enough to know whether or not that she'd consort to such vile agreements. The only other option was that this was someone else with Minerva's body; a Polyjuice Potion participant. Which Emilia figured, was the answer.

"Minerva?" she asked, looking at her. She was holding her head, like she had a very bad headache. "How did you come up here?"

"There was an explosion," she said at last. Emilia recognized her actions: she was very, very hungover. "I got caught in it. When I woke, I was surrounded by those angry...those vile creatures. And at the head of the group was Lucius Malfoy. I instantly knew what was going on. Death Eaters had invaded Hogwarts. It was bound to happen; how can you not expect it when Voldemort has risen again?" She paused. "I wasn't bound to anything; I think they suspected that I would stay unconscious longer than I was. But I needed to get out of there—and quickly. They didn't notice I was awake—I think I'm glad for that—and then, out of nowhere, more people entered the room. They were taking about the whereabouts of Albus...apparently they lost him or something...and my first thought was, 'Albus was captured? And they didn't kill him!?' But anyway," she said, holding her temples with her forefingers. "He was gone, someone rescued him from wherever he was...they were so angry they none of them took the time to notice me. But they mentioned you, Emilia," she said, looking at her with tired eyes. "I must warn you, if you come across Lucius Malfoy—ever—he will not hesitate to kill you. Whatever you did to him was something unbelievable."

She leaned against the wall. Emilia could not help but feel sorry for her. However, that comment about Lucius Malfoy seemed...out of place. "I know that Lucius will kill me," she said softly. "Was there anything else? How did you manage to find me?"

"Well, I heard that someone attacked the Great Hall, and the Gryffindors had escaped—you told me they were going down to the Great Hall. But it was a trap!" Emilia nodded.

"I know."

"And then—they said something about the fifth floor seemed fishy, seemed like Dumbledore was up to something here. And then I came here—I know the passages, Sprout's told me a fair few times that if she ever were not able to save her own children, then she would like me best to do it. Rather than Professor Flitwick, which you know is the Head of Ravenclaw."

"Yes, I do," she replied. Well, that explains a little bit. She heard it from the Death Eaters. But—but—something still didn't feel right. She couldn't put her finger on it though...something seemed forced, too real, too detailed...

"How long have you been on the fifth floor?" Emilia asked.

"I've been roaming around, listening to the Death Eaters—trying to figure out what they are planning next—and then, coming around this corner, I saw you and the Gryffindors enter where Sprout told me to go."

"You saw us?" she asked, her voice slightly high. Recovering, she added, "Well, they are all safe, except for one."

"What?"

Emilia waved her hand. She strained her ears to hear for any oncoming sounds. Hearing none, she sighed. "I'm just glad to see that you are okay, Minerva."

"And you," she replied. Emilia didn't like the feeling in the pit of her stomach—that gnawing feeling that said something was wrong—of her sixth sense. Something was off, something little, something she needed to catch at. Emilia tried to remember everything her father had said about telling the Death Eater apart from others. There was the Dark Mark, of course, and then there was the numerous other things that sometimes you could catch them off guard. Minerva's story was very believable...and the hangover—only those that knew she was drinking was be able to pull off one so believable, and yet, she'd never seen Minerva with a hangover anyway, so it wasn't a useful clue. What was she going to do?

If it was Minerva, she couldn't very well leave her outside, where she might be tortured again—or worse. But she couldn't enter the passage so long as she didn't know who it was. And the longer she waited, the more likely the chance that a Death Eater would find them or...someone from the inside would come out to see where she'd been off to.

She had no way to figure it out. Unless she asked a question that only the true Minerva would know—since this clearly was not a case of the Imperius Curse. She would sort of know whether or not that Minerva was really who she said she was.

"Can I ask you a question, Minerva?" she asked.

Minerva looked up. "Hmm?"
"I...I'm having some doubts. Can I ask you a question?" Fear flickered over her face. Good, she'd caught whoever it was off guard. Now for a complete out of the place question. "Do you remember the first time we talked? I mean, the exact day?"

"We've been friends for so long, Emilia, I can't really remember the first day we talked...right before school started, right?" she paused. "Um, August, sometime, then...why?"

Emilia stomach sank. This wasn't McGonagall. McGonagall, for one, knew everything; what happened and where, when and with whom. And they most certainly were not friends since the beginning of school. Quietly, she turned her head away. These Death Eaters thought they were incompetent. They thought they wouldn't be able to see though the disguise.

"I'm sorry," she said. "It was a nice try, though..." she paused, "Lucius..."

The angry face of McGonagall was shown, then went back to placidness. "What?"

"You're too sloppy," she replied. "And I still have your wand, so don't piss me off."

"What are you talking about, Emilia?"

"Shove off, Lucius. I know it's you," she replied coolly. "The answer is wrong. You clearly did not interrogate your hostage enough. I asked you a simple question, and you got it wrong. Father would be disappointed in you."

Suddenly, the features were taking their proper form; the hair was lightening and growing shorter, and McGonagall was growing taller and more masculine. Suddenly, in the ripped dress robes of Minerva, stood Lucius Malfoy, angrier than she'd ever seen him before.

"I tried you give you a chance..." he growled at her. "You mistake me for a fool."

"You are a fool," she said. "You gave yourself away from the start. Where is McGonagall?"

"Like hell I'd tell you," he replied angrily. "You are such an insufferable little girl, and you always will be. You don't know everything, Emilia. And now I've come back. I want my wand, and I want you dead." Malfoy's hand slipped up and grasped around her neck, lifting her off the ground, choking her. "You will die by my own hands, if I must..."

She started to gag. "Let—go—of me!" she struggled, kicking and flailing her legs.

"No," he murmured softly. "I tried to give you something that everyone wants. I tried to give you a reason not to disobey us. Yet, somehow that stupid nerve of yours got in my way, and now you'll pay for my humiliation!"

Her face felt hot and cold at the same time, as it was turning blue. Finally she kicked him in the groin area, and he let go of her. She slid to the floor, dizzy and angry. "You son of a bitch," she snapped. Her leg came out of no where, slipping out and knocking him down to the ground. Soon they were face to face. "By the way, girl robes have always suited you, you fucking fairy."

Malfoy's face twisted into furious rage. "You...you tramp!" he seethed. With a ruffle of his robes, his hands swung out from the folds and reached out, and this time grabbed her face and neck. "I hope to God that you suffer a long and painful death."

She gagged again, feeling a bitter taste on her lips and in her mouth. Trying desperately, she started scratching his hands off of her. They were rough and tight, and Emilia couldn't budge them if she tried. Stars started to spin in front of her as she started to black out. Emilia felt the pounding in her ears and spots before her eyes.

Finally, she saw a black figure in the background, but it was too late for him to do anything. She'd already lost consciousness.

"Emilia..." a voice whispered in front of her. "Emilia..."

Emilia opened her eyes. "What?" She tried to sit up quickly, but strong hands pushed her back down. "What happened?"

"You blacked out," he said. "Are you okay? You look really bruised. Again."

She looked up, her eyesight clearing and saw Severus's young face staring down at her. She felt herself blush. "How long have I been out?" she said, sitting up on her elbow.

"Not long. Perhaps an hour," he replied. Her head felt dizzy and her eyesight was blurry. Everything seemed to be underwater. She put a hand to her head, trying to see clearly. It was nauseating. "You look terrible, Emilia."

"Gee, thanks," she replied sarcastically.

"I'm happy to see your personality isn't affected," he snapped, just as equally sarcastic.

She turned away. "Sorry." With his help, she managed to stand without throwing up. Her hand touched the wall behind her. God, she felt like shit. But where was Lucius? "Where is he?" she croaked, rubbing her neck.

"Lucius? He's...unavoidably detained." Severus looked away from her, toward the lump of person on the floor, his hair falling in his face. Emilia then realized what had happened. In a crumpled heap on the floor beyond Severus lay the breathless body of Lucius Malfoy. She tore her eyes away from the sight before her and looked back at Severus. She did not notice the cuts and bruises that were all over him before...because of her...

"Oh my God," she whispered, covering her mouth and backing up to the wall. She waited for the new rush of nausea to not overwhelm her, and then glanced back at him. "I can't believe—"

Severus looked back up at her, a harsh look on his face. He met her gaze, and saw the look of hollow remorse in his eyes. Finally tearing away from his deep, black eyes, she said, "Oughtn't we get back to Dumbledore?"

"No," he spoke quietly. "They've already left."

"What?" she said. "What's—what's going on?"

"Dumbledore is going to the Ministry of Magic now, to which I think that Voldemort will of course, remove himself from the castle and leave his lesser minions—Black," he spoke his name angrily, "has gone to fetch Remus Lupin," once again, he was rather angry, "and Sprout is watching the two houses. We are to find Minerva and check on the other houses. I have Potter's map in my pocket; it should make our job a little easier," he finished, patting his breast pocket, which was inside his robes. His face full of concern, he asked, "Do you feel all right?"

"Yes," she replied. As if on cue, her stomach lurched and she couldn't conceal her pale, worn out appearance. She was lying, of course. The dizziness was very predominant, and there was a throbbing in her temples. Her eyes kept wanting to roll into the back of her head, and the dry heaving she was choking down wasn't helping.

Severus's hand touched her cut on her forehead, which had ripped open when she fell. Dried blood trailed her cheek. She was tired and beat up and hurt, both emotionally and physically. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them away, turning from his gaze. That touch alone sent shivers up her spine, more than Sirius's did.

"Emilia, if you don't feel well, then tell me," he said softly. "You've got bruises and cuts everywhere. And you are pale. Do not lie to me." His voice sounded very commanding, very imperious.

She looked back up at him. His fingers lingered on his face for a moment, before he took them back, almost reluctantly. "We have to clean that blood off of your face," he said.

She reached up and touched the blood. She grimaced. The cut was deep and probably would rip again, if left untreated. "I must look terrible," she said, rubbing off the dried blood. Emilia closed her eyes for a second, hoping that the dizziness would disappear. "I feel terrible."

Severus stood there. He didn't say anything.

Looking up, she gave him an overview. "But, Severus, you're hurt too," she said quietly.. Her stomach lurched again, and she clutched the wall, nausea sweeping over her. She rolled her eyes back and closed. "I feel..." she stopped, and the felt the emptiness of her stomach dry heave. She clutched her stomach and fell to the floor, landing on all fours.

With one hand holding her stomach, and the other on the floor, she felt her elbow bend and start to slip away...she was caught before she fell onto the floor. Strong arms gripped her upper body. "No..." she murmured, her eyes still closed. "You have to...let me go..." Her stomach revolted again. But because she had not eaten, there was nothing for her to get rid of.

"What's the matter with me?" she croaked, clutching her stomach now with both hands. Severus held her out at arm's length. "God, I don't even think getting drunk had ever felt this bad..." Her skin felt clammy and her heart was racing inside of her chest.

Severus's brow furrowed. He'd suspected foul play all along; from Lucius, anything is possible. He could have used anything...he knew, after all, that Lucius was downstairs in the Potions hallways because Voldemort was taken root in the Slytherin Common Room.

"I've got to get you help," he murmured softly. What could he do? His choices were very limited. The only thing he could think of was to get her to the Infirmary and see what Potions Madam Pomfrey kept around could help. Because it was direly obvious that she'd been poisoned by something of the sort; this violent reaction was probably the cause—however, he kept very few of those sort of Potions he kept in his keeps. And he had no idea which one was used.

"Emilia," he said, lifting her chin. Her eyes were fluttering open and closed, her eyes rolling into the back of her head. Emilia arched in his hold, and she started to gasp like she couldn't get enough air. The noises she tried to mouth were unintelligible. "Dear God," Severus said, breathing in deeply. Her body went rigid, then slack. She needed some medical attention and quick. He scooped her up in his arms, thankful that she was light, and took off at a quickened pace, running down the corridors that lead quickest to the Infirmary.

The Infirmary, or the Hospital Ward, was on the first floor in the back of the castle opposite the Great Hall. It was, everything considering, in the deepest part of the castle. Five floors down and numerous hallways winding to the Ward, he knew that he was traveling somewhere into the heart of the danger.

Severus barged into the Infirmary, swinging the door to it's very last hinge, and hoping to some unknown God that there be no danger in here. Seeing no one immediately, he rushed to a clean bed and set Emilia on it carefully, who was covered by a cold sweat. Occasionally, she'd start to gasp again, breathing in and out loudly. It was terrible to watch.

Severus made sure she was above the covers and she wouldn't wrap herself up when she had her episodes. Her skin was purple on the white sheets, and her lips were very puffy and red. Trying to remember what he'd seen before he'd saved her, how Lucius had his hands around her neck and her face—

"Severus," she croaked, the first thing she'd managed to say since they'd left the fifth floor. It was hard to move her lips, because they were so swollen, and she tried to say something else, which was lost in the gasps she tried to take.

He looked at her, seeing her helpless body racked with pain. She'd closed her eyes again. Then she lay still for a few minutes. Severus watched her, and made sure that she'd finally fallen into unconsciousness, and then moved swiftly to Madam Pomfrey's cabinets. Opening them up, he read the labels for the ailments they cured. Many of them were female problems, and then the ever familiar Skelegro, plus the Pepper-Up Potion he'd made either that year. Finally he saw poison antidotes. He moved the small bottles around, the liquids of blue, green and yellow splashing around in each bottle he moved. Severus sighed, getting frustrated. He hoped that it wouldn't be that they didn't have the anitidote. He shoved more bottles around in the cabinet. Severus saw that the antidote was not in the cabinet and moved on to the next one. He started to get anxious as he flung open the doors and shoved other labeled bottles around. Finally, he came upon the spot that it would most likely be in. He stared at he labels intently and read each lines quickly and carefully. Th, out of nowhere, in the back of the lot, he found the right one. It contined a red liquid and the label read, "Miamic Mixture."

The symptoms lent themselves to Miasmic Poisoning, and that was in the very back of his stores. Lucius must've looked for this...he'd only made a very small amount.

And he made it only once.

Severus walked out to the main Ward where Emilia was lain, tossing and turning like something was consuming her. She was no longer unconscious anymore, now had woken up and was worse than ever. She made mouth motions of that she was screaming, but no noise came out. Emilia was gasping and crying, tears streaking her face mutely. It was a heartwrenching sight.

He sat on her bed and looked at her. She was thrashing about so badly that he was afraid that she'd knock the vile out of his hand. With a lot trouble, he held her down by crawling on the bed and putting a leg of either side of her, kneeling on top of her as one arm held her arms above her head.

Her mouth was obligingly open, gasping and wheezing for air, and with great difficulty he tipped the red liquid into her mouth. She gagged as it went down, and her entire body began to spasm. Severus was afraid that this was the wrong one for a brief second when suddenly, she went completely limp. His heart skipped a beat, but he stayed there for a moment, making sure she wouldn't lash out again, and when her eyes fluttered open, she was gazing wide eyed into Severus's face.

It took a moment for her eyes to focus, and then they opened wide in realization. "What the hell do you think you are doing?" she screeched, noticing he was uncomfortably on top of her, stradling her body.

His hand went to her mouth, hoping that no one heard her outburst. "Emilia!" he said sharply, leaning in to her so that she'd hear clearly. "You fool! You'll tell the enemy where we are!"

Her eyes darted back and forth until finally she settled down, writhing under his hands. Severus uncovered her mouth, but held her there. He was deeply afraid that if he got up she'd beat the shit out of him.

"Do you remember what happened?" he asked quietly

"Unfortunately," she muttered, her awareness becoming clearer and her face was going from purple to pale. Them, just as quickly, it was flushing red. God, why was he on top of her like this? Didn't he know what he did to her?

And she thought being held by him in the dungeons was terrible. Looking up at him with a lot of difficulty, she muttered, "You mind...?"

"Oh," he said, and moved swiftly away from her, and standing up. A pink tinge danced around the outside of his cheeks. For some reason, this amused Emilia.

Emilia creeped to the edge of the bed, and stood herself. "Ugh," she said, holding her head in her hands. "God, what was that shit you gave me?"

"Stuff to help you live," he snapped angrily. "Couldn't you be a little more grateful?"

"I could if the stuff you gave me didn't kill me," she replied, just as angrily; she remembered all too well every potion he'd managed to give her and have it not work right. "My sense of taste is seriously fucked up, I'll tell you what."

"Wonderful. Remind me next time to let you die," Severus replied sarcastically, folding his arms. Emilia shot him a glare from across the bed, and felt herself start to get huffy.

"Enough," she said finally, spreading her arms out as she talked. "This really is getting childish."

"No shit," he replied bluntly.

Emilia gave him a sarcastic nod, curling her lips into a semi-scowl. "Fuck you too, Severus." She paused, sighed loudly, then continued. "Now that that's out of the way, I feel the need to kick some Death Eater ass before I start to get stir-crazy! I'm not quite sure how they managed to get inside here, but I think it's up to either you or I to solve the problem."

"So what do you propose we do?" Severus said quietly, gesturing to her. His voice was dripping with disdainful sarcasm.

"Don't patronize me, Severus," she warned. "I can get very pissy when I'm tired."

"I can tell."

Emilia huffed. "What the hell is up with you? I mean, every word that's come out of your mouth lately has been arrogant, sarcastic or patronizing. Can't you talk to me normally, even when we are near death?"

"That would be out of my character," he replied simply, yet just as nastily. "Come on, let's go. I think I've figured a way to find Minerva."

"Have you now?" she muttered in an undertone.

Severus narrowed his eyes, but didn't say anything. They exited the Ward, and set off to find Minerva.

Before it was too late.