Emma woke up feeling warm and comfortable. Perhaps warmer and more comfortable than she had felt in weeks. Wherever she was, while somewhat lit up, it was dark enough for her to feel incredibly cozy. She could feel herself starting to drift back into sleep, but something was keeping her up. There was an incessant, faint, almost beeping noise that her brain insisted on listening to.

It's almost like a heartbeat, Emma thought to herself, squeezing her eyes closed in the hopes she could fall asleep. However, the noise continued on, seemingly picking up in speed with her aggravation. The steady beep beep beep was no longer in a staccato and predictable rhythm and only served to annoy Emma even further. She had no idea what the absolutely awful noise was, but it meant she wouldn't be sleeping anytime soon.

Emma opened her eyes slowly, blinking hard to clear her bleary vision. The moment she opened her eyes, her head seemed to explode with pain.

"Ow," Emma moaned out quietly, closing her eyes in the hopes the pain in her head would stop its assault. "Oh, it fucking hurts."

She continued to blink to clear her vision, waiting for something familiar to make sense in her mind. However, the more she could see, the more confused she became. Emma was sure that she had to be dreaming because why would she be in what looked like a hospital room? The annoying beeping noise slowly started to settle back into its easy rhythm, and Emma began to feel much better. Everything was completely okay.

Emma breathed in what was meant to be a sigh of relief and closed her eyes again, but then she was hit with an unexpected scent. The moment the bitter and sterile smell she associated with a doctor's office reached her nose, her eyes shot back open. The beeping picked up in speed once more as Emma's heart rate picked up, and Emma realized the beeping was from her.

As she tried to understand what was going on, Emma became acutely and then very aware that her wrists were in some sort of cuffs. She gave her arms a quick test pull to see if she could free her hands and started to panic when she realized that she was pinned where she was. Her breathing quickened to stuttering breaths, and she looked around frantically.

"Help!" Emma wanted to cry out. "Let me go!" But her voice was practically non-existent, only a wisp of noise that seemed to disappear the moment her mouth opened. In her panic, Emma began to thrash about, trying to free herself from her confines. She kicked hard against the thin sheet covering her, planting her feet on the bed as she moved this way and that to pull her arms free. Her eyes burned with her tears that fell in hot rivers down her cheeks.

"Hey!" Emma heard someone shout. "Hey, stop that! You're only going to hurt yourself!" Emma didn't care what the voice was telling her. She needed out, and she needed out right then and there.

"Let me go, let me go, let me go!" Emma tried to shout, but her voice was no louder than before. She tried to scream, wanting to let out an ear-piercing wail of defeat as she felt her entire body being held down. Emma opened her mouth to try and make some sort of noise, but her world went black with the feeling of a sharp and unexpected pinch.

When Emma found herself waking up again, she somehow felt worse than she had before. Her head was throbbing painfully, her muscles ached, and her throat felt like it was on fire. The beeping noise was steady once more, but the more consciousness found her, the quicker the noise came.

"Ow, my head," Emma murmured, her words slurring and voice raspy. She opened her eyes slowly, testing her vision, and turned her head to try and find the offending beeping noise. When she couldn't find it in one direction, Emma turned her head the other way and let out a pained shriek when she saw a face very close to hers.

"Oh, sorry," said the woman near Emma's bedside. Emma took in the woman's green scrubs as she straightened up, frowning slightly at the bright color that seemed to shine in the darkened room. She had to be a nurse, Emma decided. No doctor would wear scrubs in such an ugly and jarring color.

"You're finally awake," the nurse said, stealing a glance at the chart hanging near the head of Emma's bed. "Emma, yeah? How are you feeling? Had us worried earlier."

"My head is killing me," Emma tried to say, but her throat felt too much like sandpaper. Instead, she let out a pained whimper which turned into distress when she found that she still couldn't move her arms.

"Oh, hold on, sweetheart," the nurse said. Emma whined as the room was bathed in light, and she blinked quickly to let her eyes adjust. The nurse suddenly fixed Emma's bed to sit at a slight incline with an ominous creak and reached off to a spot that Emma couldn't see. When a water bottle with a swirly straw appeared in front of Emma, she greedily pulled the straw between her lips and began to drink.

"Take your time, honey. You don't need to make yourself sick," the woman said with a kind smile, ignoring the look of loathing Emma gave her. Didn't she understand just how much her head and throat were hurting? The water was doing wonders for the pain she felt. The throbbing in her head dulling considerably and her throat momentarily soothed by the cool liquid. When the nurse pulled the water away from Emma, she let out an almost growl of annoyance.

"So, let's try this again," the nurse said, pulling over Emma's chart and plucking a pen out of her front pocket. "How are you feeling?"

"I have a headache," Emma muttered unhelpfully. "And why am I tied down?" She tried to pull hard at the cuffs wrapped around her wrists.

"Please stop tugging," the nurse said, her tone firm. "The more you try to fight them, the longer they'll stay on."

"Why are they on in the first place?" Emma whimpered, further agitated that she was being held hostage. She took in a deep, shuddering breath and pulled to see just how far she could move her arms. When she found that she couldn't move them far at all, she shot the nurse a look.

"They're to make sure that you don't hurt yourself any more than you already have," the nurse said with a disapproving look. The woman looked as though she wanted to say more, her lips pursing slightly in thought. Her expression shifted to something like resolve when Emma shot her another look, and she straightened up with a look that made Emma shrink back.

"You know, you're something, huh? I get that your life is rough, but you're still so young," the nurse spat out. "You're so young with so many opportunities. Why would you want to take away your chance to make something of yourself?"

"What are you talking about?" Emma asked, her face twisting in confusion. She knew that something had happened at school, but she couldn't remember what. The last thing that came to mind was going to the bathroom to try and silence all of the noise and calm her thoughts down. What was so wrong about that? "What happened?"

The nurse looked as though she was expecting Emma to yell, her mouth opening and closing as she sputtered out in confusion. She stared at Emma, studying and searching her face to try and understand. The woman's entire demeanor seemed to change suddenly, her face softening in the realization that Emma genuinely didn't understand.

"Oh, honey," she said gently. "You don't remember?"

"No?" Emma took another look around the room, trying to understand how she had moved from the bathroom at school to a hospital. The progression didn't seem linear at all and made no sense.

"You tried to take your life," the nurse said slowly. The way the woman was talking to her annoyed Emma. It was like the nurse felt Emma suddenly had no comprehension of the English language or she was an extremely small child instead of a teenager. "That's why you're confined to the bed. We don't want that happening again, and we don't know what lengths you're willing to go to."

Emma's lips parted with surprise, trying to make sense of what the nurse was telling her. They thought she was trying to…to off herself? What would possess them to ever think such a thing? She tried to suppress the urge to laugh, clamping her lips closed and sucking them in to keep herself quiet. However, she was unsuccessful.

A noise very much like an elephant trumpeting erupted from Emma's mouth, and she began to laugh hysterically. The entire thing sounded ridiculous, and the more Emma thought about it, the funnier it became.

"Oh, that's an absolutely brilliant joke," Emma managed to squeak out between her tears of laughter. "Why would I take my own life? That's so stupid." Emma's laughter had started to calm, but she sobered up quickly at the displeased look on the nurse's face.

"Emma, this isn't a joke," the nurse said sharply, planting a hand on her hip. "And there are people here that would like an explanation as to why you would do such a thing."

"But I don't know," Emma said quietly, giving a slight tug of her arms to see if she had been magically freed from the cuffs or not. She cast her eyes elsewhere, no longer able to look at the nurse and wanting to avoid her judging gaze.

"I don't think I want to die," she said, finding a spot on the ceiling to focus on. For a room full of equipment, there wasn't a single thing more interesting than the strange, disturbingly red dot on the ceiling. "The last thing I remember is that I tried to take my medication because everything was too loud." Emma gave a slight shrug at that, trying to remember everything that had transpired. "Something scared me, and I shook the bottle a little too hard, and a few extra fell out. That's usually fine."

"A few extra?" the nurse harrumphed. "Emma, do you even have any idea how much of your medication you're allowed to take?"

"Yes?" Emma said, scrunching her face up in thought. "No?" She tried to calculate how many pills she had taken in the past week. It felt as though she had gone through her bottle a little too quickly, but all she had to do was say that she lost her pills and would get another with very few questions asked.

"Twelve?" Emma told the nurse, giving her a sheepish grin. She figured that throwing out such a low number would be a brilliant idea. In actuality, Emma had no idea how many she took a day. It could've been more, or it could've been less – she couldn't give a definitive answer. "They don't always work," Emma added in explanation, her brows knitting together at the blank look on the nurse's face. "So, a little extra is okay, right?"

The nurse no longer had a blank expression on her face but looked absolutely appalled by Emma's response. Emma didn't understand what she had done wrong and watched the nurse scratch something onto the clipboard in front of her, her lips pursing.

"Well, your vitals look somewhat okay," the nurse said, her eyes flicking between Emma's chart and the annoying beeping machine that Emma couldn't see. "I'm going to go and grab Doctor Lockhart. He'll be able to tell you more."

With a sigh and another test of her trapped wrists, Emma sat back and rest her head against the pillow. She figured since she couldn't move, she might as well close her eyes for a few minutes. The conversation with the nurse had been far more tiring than she cared to admit, and she could feel her head starting to hurt again. If only she could drink some more of her water.

Emma shot up with a gasp as she felt herself being shaken awake. How had she fallen asleep so quickly? It took a moment for Emma to register that her hands were free from their prison, but her brain was on high alert. She wanted to scream when she saw a very unfamiliar man in a white lab coat was standing over her, and she shrunk back in fear.

"Well," the man said brightly, undeterred by Emma's response, "that's not exactly the response I was expecting. Usually, the ladies respond a bit differently when they see me." He gave Emma a dashing smile and turned to look back at the nurse, a different woman, who accompanied him. The nurse gave him a tight smile, and the man cleared his throat, turning back to Emma.

"Hello there, Emma," he said, suddenly sounding more business-like as he grabbed Emma's chart and peered through it. "I am Doctor Lockhart, and I have been treating you here at St. Mungo's for the past three days."

Emma stared warily at the man – Doctor Lockhart – and slowly let herself relax when she deemed him no longer a threat. She studied him further, taking in his wavy blond hair, bright blue eyes, and wide white-toothed smile. The man did not look like a doctor in the same way the nurse's scrubs were obnoxious. It took her a few moments longer to realize precisely what he had said.

Three days, Emma thought to herself, her brow furrowing. Three fucking days.

"What?" Emma half-shouted out with a gasp. "Did you just say three fucking days?"

"I did indeed," Lockhart responded with a surprised chuckle. "You did quite a number on yourself with your overdose. Though it sounds as though it was an accident, so that's wonderful news to hear. You were brought here completely comatose, but luckily you managed to wake yourself up on your own time without our help. That's absolutely wonderful, wonderful news."

Lockhart lifted his gaze from her chart and gave her another smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes this time. "And just a note – we're in a children's ward, and I don't think your neighbors would appreciate your swearing."

"Right," Emma mumbled. "Okay, sorry."

"It's quite all right," Lockhart said, flinging his arm out with Emma's chart towards the nurse, who nearly missed grabbing it before he let go. "Everything seems to be in order for right now. So, I'll leave you in the care of Nurse Butters here. I have an interview scheduled for the Late Show tonight that I must prepare for. After all, one does not win Best Looking Doctor of the Year three times in a row without making an effort." Lockhart gave a hearty chuckle, cast his brilliant smile to what seemed to be an invisible audience, and swept out of the room.

"It's Studdard," the nurse grumbled under her breath as she glared at Lockhart's back. Emma snickered at the nurse's ire until the woman turned her attention on her. She didn't need to get in trouble again and forced herself to stop laughing. It was clearly going to be a very long night if she didn't.

Luckily, it seemed as though the entire day went by quickly. Emma found herself sleeping on and off in between checks from nurses and the brief moments of entertainment that she was given. They had found a book in her bag, but every time Emma tried to read it, she found herself distracted. Sleeping was much easier, and whatever medication they kept giving her tired her out. When Emma awoke at around midnight that night, she glared at the television that had suddenly been allowed to be turned on, and Lockhart was on the screen.

Emma was given a brilliant surprise the following day over breakfast. She ate her cardboard-tasting toast and scrambled eggs slowly, but her food was abandoned entirely when her favorite person in the world walked into the room.

"Remus!" Emma cheered, sitting up excitedly. She grimaced at just how croaky her voice sounded after just waking up, but she reminded herself she hadn't used it much. She was used to talking all the time and three days without proper usage left her out of practice.

"Oh, Emma," Remus said, relief flooding his eyes. He crossed the room and gave Emma a swift hug before pulling back, his hands resting on her shoulders as he looked at her. "I was so worried about you," he said, his eyes searching Emma's. "Don't you ever do that to me again. You scared everyone, but it's okay because you're going to get all the help that you need."

"Help?" Emma asked. "What sort of help?" She let out a gasp, practically shaking in delight. "Am I going to get to go to magic school, finally?"

"What?" Remus asked with a frown, letting go of Emma and straightening up. He rubbed his chin as he thought about what Emma said. "No, not quite." He glanced over his shoulder as the door to the room swung open, and he took Emma's hand gently in his and gave it a squeeze. "But I'll tell you more about it later."

Three people entered the room, but Emma only recognized one. Lockhart looked agitated and frustrated as he followed them, his properly set hair a mess. He argued loudly with a petite female doctor with grey hair that seemed to ignore him and a tall, skinny man that looked like a wizard, robes and all.

"Who do you think you are?" Lockhart sputtered out, looking less than composed. "What makes you think that you can take her out of a hospital? She clearly needs help."

"We can and will give her all of the help that she needs," the old man said calmly, patting Lockhart's arm. The female doctor stood just to the old man's side, still ignoring Lockhart, and she turned her head to give Emma a wink. "This is our specialization," the old man continued, "and Doctor Douglas here will assess her to see if she is fit for travel."

The old man and Doctor Douglas turned to face Emma, both of them now ignoring Lockhart's frustrated sputtering. Remus could only watch in amusement and smiled over at Emma, happy to see that her eyes were twinkling at the scene in front of her.

"Hello, Emma," the old man said, approaching slowly. He bent down lower to be more on Emma's level and held his hand out, smiling as he took Emma's hand delicately in his to shake. "It's very nice to meet you. How are you?"

Emma felt her face heat up in embarrassment. She felt like the man was speaking to her over a cup of tea instead of towering over her hospital bed.

"I think you should ask Doctor Lockhart how he's doing instead," Emma giggled, looking past the old man to take in Lockhart's wide-eyed expression. "I think he's the one who needs a bit of help. I feel fine aside from a sore throat." Emma thought about it for a moment and giggled again. "And perhaps a bit of a headache."

"Ah," the man said with a twinkle in his eye, "that is excellent to hear. Please forgive me – my manners! My name is Albus Dumbledore, the head of Hogwarts Institute of Psychological Wellbeing, and to my side is the wonderful Doctor Elara Douglas."

"I'm sorry, what?" Emma said, staring at the man dumbfounded. "Albus Dumb-what of where?" Dumbledore chuckled softly, giving Remus and Elara a knowing smile as he straightened up.

"It's a bit of a mouthful, isn't it?" Dumbledore said, dropping his voice conspiratorially. "Albus Dumbledore of Hogwarts."

"Oh," Emma tried to say, but no words came out as she opened and closed her mouth. She knew that she had to look like a fish out of water, but she couldn't wrap her mind around what Dumbledore had said. She looked over at Remus, needing to focus on someone familiar. "Uhm, Remy?" she said, her voice barely higher than a whisper. Her head was spinning already, and the conversation had barely even started.

Remus sighed, slipping himself between Dumbledore and Elara to sit down on the bed next to Emma. He took one of her hands between his, thinking for a moment about how he wanted to phrase his words.

"Well, it appears you got your wish," Remus said. Emma frowned at the bitter edge and sarcastic tone of his voice, feeling hurt. When Remus realized how he sounded, he gave Emma an apologetic look. "It has nothing to do with you, darling," he said, "but you're not going back to Saint Nicholas's, after all. They refused your care, so you're not going back."

"They refused?" Emma asked in confusion, still off-put by Remus's tone. "Why did they refuse to take me back?" She wasn't fond of the children's home in the least, but she had lived there for years. The idea of them not taking her back was terrifying because that meant no one would take her. It was one of her first homes after being taken from hers, and she had grown to have a silent love for the place. Why couldn't she just go back to where she considered home?

"Well, unfortunately, they can refuse if they feel they cannot meet the requirements for taking care of someone like yourself," Remus said, cupping Emma's chin with a finger and forcing her to look at him. "They felt that because you need a little more attention than others, it would harm your wellbeing. Unfortunately, you really made a lot of people question how to take care of you, Blodyn Tatws. And quite frankly, for once, I have to agree with them – everyone does."

Tears filled Emma's eyes as she searched Remus's face. He couldn't be serious, could he? There had never been a problem before, and she couldn't understand what was happening in her life all of a sudden.

"Emma," Remus said softly, shifting himself so that he could be more in Emma's line of sight. She shivered at the sudden drop of temperature in the room – she didn't like where the conversation was suddenly going. "You need help – real help," Remus said, careful to keep his tone as gentle as possible. "That's help that your teachers, foster parents, a children's home, or even me cannot provide you. Luckily, there are special places that can provide the very care that you need." Remus looked back at Dumbledore and Elara for support, fully aware that Emma wasn't going to understand him.

"Excellent," Dumbledore said, clapping his hands together. "You are very correct, Mr. Lupin." Dumbledore turned his bright, sparkling eyes to Emma. "As you have probably gathered, all of this means that I have had the absolute delight of preparing you a room at Hogwarts. The only thing missing is you, my dear."

Emma looked between Remus and Dumbledore with open-mouthed horror. When she realized her mouth was hanging open, she clamped it shut.

"I'm…I'm going somewhere new?" Emma asked.

"Yes," Albus said. "You are indeed – preferably, you'll be leaving straight away with us. We have already made the necessary travel arrangements so that you're comfortable in your current state. All of your things will be cleaned, ready, and waiting for you when you arrive."

"Now, wait just a minute," Lockhart piped in. "I cannot allow that. There is absolutely no way this patient is leaving my care. She is not strong enough to travel!" He shot everyone a look, crossing his arms over his chest. "And she would look good in my upcoming hospital documentary," he muttered under his breath. Remus appeared to be the only one who noticed Lockhart's addition and glared at the man, who shrugged in response.

"Well, I'd like to assess Emma myself, thank you," Doctor Douglas said, giving Lockhart a tight smile. She turned to Emma and Remus, bending slightly with her hands on her knees and giving Emma a beaming smile. "With your permission, of course," she said, addressing Emma directly.

Emma gave Remus a nervous look, but he gave her an encouraging smile. She made a noise of distress when he placed Emma's hand back on her lap and stood. Emma didn't want him to leave her.

"It'll be all right," Remus said gently. "I promise." Emma had no choice but to nod in agreement.

Elara was quick to usher everyone out of the room, so it was just the two of them. She closed the curtains and shut the door, giving Emma another smile which she returned nervously.

"About time they all left, eh?" Elara said, stepping up to Emma's bed and slipping her stethoscope from around her neck. "I'm Doctor Douglas, the resident doctor of Hogwarts, but please – call me Elle. Would you mind lifting your shirt for me for a moment, kid?"

"I'd rather not," Emma muttered, trying to figure out just how old Elara was. The woman looked young, but her hair was grey, and Emma didn't want to be rude.

"That's totally okay, kiddo," Elara said, stepping a little closer. "Won't have to do that this time if you don't want to, but I do need to put the stethoscope under your shirt. And I have to apologize because it will be cold; there's not much I can do about that."

Emma nodded and let out a shriek when Elara pressed the stethoscope to her back.

"You said it was cold!" Emma said grumpily. "This is absolutely freezing!"

"Sorry," Elara apologized with a soft laugh. "Now, let's get this over with and get you warmed back up. Take a deep breath in and a deep breath out."

Emma shot Elara a look but did as she was instructed. It took a few moments for her to breathe normally, trying to focus on not shivering from the chill down her spine, but she managed. Elara listened carefully to Emma's heartbeat and breathing, gaze fixed to a spot on Emma's bed, and then without warning, she straightened up with a grin. Emma couldn't be happier for the ice-cold object to be pulled away from her skin.

"Well, everything sounds good," Elara said brightly. "Just a few more tests, and then I think you'll be good to go."

It felt like Elara was running way too many tests, many that Emma had already undergone seemingly several times. In her frustration, Emma couldn't help herself from asking just how old Elara actually was.

"Why is your hair so grey?" Emma blurted out, surprising Elara. "You seem so young!"

"I am young," Elara said when she processed exactly what Emma said. "I dyed it because I like the way it looks. I'm actually a few years younger than Remus."

"You dyed it grey? But aren't you afraid that people will think you're well…old?"

"I think it looks cool," Elara smiled. "And who cares what people have to say about my hair. I like it."

"So do I," Emma said after a pause. "I wonder if I can dye my hair too…."

"Well, we'll see," Elara laughed. She straightened up and looked back through Emma's chart with a hum. "Well, it appears that you are all good to travel in a monitored state, but that's okay." Elara looked up at Emma, brown eyes glittering. "We took the ambulance," she said in a stage whisper. "That means you get to ride in the back with me. How does that sound?"

Emma cringed, trying to find something new to look at. "I hate cars," she mumbled.

"Sorry, what did you say?" Elara asked, looking up from what she was writing in Emma's chart.

A whine escaped Emma's lips, and she tossed herself backward onto her pillow with a groan. She was over everything – tired of being poked and prodded, and she felt like things were getting worse and worse. Deciding that she had an awful day already, Emma decided to make it very clear to Elara just how she felt about cars.

"I! Hate! Cars!" Emma yelled at the top of her lungs, drawing out the words for as long as possible. She met Elara's surprised stare, breathing heavily from the sheer effort it took for her to yell. Emma glared at the nurse, who poked her head around the door, looking concerned.

"Everything okay in here?" she asked.

"Oh, yes," Elara said with a laugh. "Everything's fine. I think someone's just got a bit of some pent-up emotion." Elara waved the nurse off and waited until the woman left before crouching down next to Emma. "Okay, so you hate cars. Why is that?"

"They make me sick," Emma said quietly.

"Ah, that would explain it," Elara said, patting Emma's shoulder. "And very good to know. The good news is, is we can give you something to keep that from happening to you. It'll be the easiest car ride you'll ever have in your life. Let me just do a few more things, and we'll get you all taken care of."

After what felt like a million more tests, Elara gave Emma some sort of magical potion to keep her from getting car sick. Remus came back into the room to bid Emma farewell, and Emma burst into tears when he told her he couldn't join them. After many tears and a very long hug, Emma managed to convince Remus to promise her he would visit as soon as he could.

Emma was grateful that Remus went with them to the ambulance, holding her hand as she was rolled out. As she was settled in the back of the ambulance, Emma found herself drifting off. She had no idea that Elara had added a sleeping pill to her last round of medications. As soon as the ambulance passed the jerky streets around the hospital and were on the highway to Hogwarts, Emma drifted off into a magical slumber.