Chapter 3 – Lactose Intolerance and The Troll in The Dungeon

Unfortunately, Hermione was angry with her. She hadn't said a word to Emma in the morning and, during breakfast, Hermione seated herself particularly far away from her. Emma couldn't lie to herself that this hurt, more deeply than she had expected. For a brief moment, she considered approaching her, but decided instead to let her cool her temper first. Emma tried to push Hermione's coldness from her mind, as well as the peculiarity of the previous night, from her head, at least just for the duration of breakfast. This proved unsuccessful, as just as she had lifted a spoonful of scrambled egg halfway to her mouth, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley seated themselves opposite her.

"Well, that was wicked!" Ron grinned,

"Brilliant," replied Harry, the same smile on his face.

Emma spoke unclearly through a mouthful of egg. "You two are mental."

"Oh come off it Emma! You were out the common room door before us!", Ron said.

"Yeah, because I wanted to see Malfoy get clattered twenty feet in the air," Emma replied, gulping some more egg. "Not because I wanted to get digested by a three-headed mutt."

Ron nodded in agreement. "What about what Hermione said though. That it was guarding something. Good spot by her, even if she is a bossy know-it-all..."

Emma looked up from her food at Ron, frowning. "Don't talk like that about her." she snapped.

Ron didn't say anything in response, and this brought an awkward atmosphere over the three of them. Perhaps trying to defuse the tension, Harry began to explain to Emma their theories on what the attempted robbers of Gringott's Bank were after. He described the package Hagrid had extracted from a vault when he had taken Harry there, and his and Ron's speculations that this was what the thieves were after. Emma listened intently, mulling it over in her head before Ron and Harry rolled their eyes when Emma's only question was "Who's Hagrid?"

The three of them began to chat idly when the owls flooded into the Great Hall to deliver the post. A plump, brown feathered Owl squawked and landed directly in front of Emma, a rolled-up parchment tied to its foot by a string. The Owl lifted his head proudly and offered his leg to her. This was the owl Emma had chosen in Daigon Alley.

"Thanks, Barry," she took the parchment and gave Barry's chin a rub before he had taken off again.

"You named your owl Barry?", Ron asked.

"What, don't you think he looks like a Barry?" asked Emma earnestly.

Ron didn't know how to reply.

Emma jumped, as six large screech owls dropped a large thin parcel directly in front of Harry. Emma was as eager as the rest of the table was to see what was inside. Harry tore open the letter attached, with Ron peering over his shoulder as they read it simultaneously. As they scanned their eyes down the parchment, their faces lifted with pure excitement.

"We're just going to go open this Emma, see you, bye!", Harry spoke extremely quickly as he and Ron nearly sprinted from the Great Hall carrying this package.

Emma didn't even have time to protest before they had disappeared, so she shrugged and opened her own delivery.

Dear Emma

Hope you're having a blast at Hogwarts! The house feels empty

without you. Can't say I don't miss you, darling! Lots of new friends

I hope. I remember Charms being my favourite subject when I was

your age, but I lost my love for it after Peeves set off a stink bomb

in the classroom. The smell stayed for years. Anyway, just letting

you know I'll be visiting soon. I don't know if I'll get to see you

because it's a work thing, but hopefully, we can catch up.

Love you, sweet treat.

From Dad.

Emma cringed at her dad's nickname for her but was more confused about the letter's primary content. A work visit? Her father had explained to her that his job was sourcing the material that wand-makers use. What could her father possibly need to come to Hogwarts for? Maybe Professor Snape was a lumberjack in his spare time, or Professor Sprout a collector of Unicorn hair. Either way, Emma was looking forward to seeing her father. She hoped she would get the chance.

Emma had already been at Hogwarts two months, and she was enjoying every moment of it. For the most part. Hermione had started speaking to her again, to Emma's delight, but it seemed like there wasn't as much of a warmth as there had been before. They would only talk briefly, and mostly about the content of the lesson they had just been in. It felt like they had been downgraded to polite neighbour talk, rather than friendship. Emma had gotten to know Harry a little better now, though the two rarely got to speak after Harry had become Seeker for the Gryffindor quidditch team. Emma spent most of her free time chatting with Seamus and Dean, and the occasional chess match with Ron. These chess matches were just a formality if anything though, and just an excuse for the two of them to talk, as Ron would thoroughly trounce Emma without fail. Emma's pieces would look desperately up at her for strategical advice, and then gulp nervously when she would offhandedly wave them into danger.

It was Hallowe'en, and Emma was particularly excited today. Not for the celebration, but because Professor Flitwick had told them they were going to attempt to make objects fly. Her eagerness was slightly dampened when Professor Flitwick had paired her with Pansy Parkinson, a Slytherin girl, when there had been no Gryffindor's left for her to pair with. They took an instant disliking to each other. They would make sarcastic and snide comments to each other as they took turns trying and failing to use the levitation charm on a feather.

"You speak like you've a blocked nose," Pansy sneered.

"Oh great job Pansy, I think the feather moved! Oh no, wait, it was just the breath coming out your mouth, you gormless -"

"Now now, girls", Flitwick chastised them weakly.

They decided to just take their turns in silence, both of them now desperate to successfully perform the charm, if only to outdo the other one. Emma looked across the classroom and observed Hermione's movements. She tried her best to replicate them and spoke the words.

"Wing-gaaardium Levi-o-sa!"

Success! For just a short moment, the feather rose a few inches off the desk, before abruptly dropping to the surface again.

"Hah!" Emma cheered at this triumph. "See that Pansy?"

"I didn't see it move an inch," Pansy sneered.

"Oh, you didn't? Maybe I should ask Flitwick for a magnifying charm, you blind git!"

This animosity continued through the rest of the lesson.

It was now their next lesson, and Hermione wasn't anywhere in sight. She whispered at Ron across the classroom.

"Do you know where Hermione is?"

Ron looked towards her, and shook his head, but looked strangely guilty.

Emma narrowed her eyes at him but didn't push the topic, in case the Professor overheard her talking and docked points from Gryffindor.

She was probably just under the weather, Emma tried to rationalise in her head. A part of her, however, knew this was an awful explanation. Hermione wouldn't have missed a lesson even if she'd somehow contracted leprosy.

The rest of the afternoon leading to the feast was lesson free, so Emma took this time to try and discreetly practice the levitation charm in the Gryffindor common room. This proved fruitless, however, not even coming close to the small success she had during the charms lesson. It was now time for the feast, and Emma had come no closer to levitating anything than if she had waved her hands at a car and pretended it was an X-Wing in the swamps of Dagobah.

Emma was one of the first students to become seated at the feast, and Seamus Finnigan sat down next to her. He picked up a large, pumpkin looking sphere, but it was smaller than a pumpkin and about twice the size of a large cooking apple.

"Here, try one of these!", he offered it to her.

Emma shrugged, deciding that if it was horrible it would at least be funny when she spat it all over Seamus's lap. She took a huge bite. It was delicious. The flavour reminded her of something she hadn't eaten in an extremely long time. Smooth and creamy, it wasn't long before she had devoured the whole thing. She'd even done so before half the students had sat down at the table. But Emma's heart sunk when a strange growl came from her stomach shortly after finishing it. She now knew why the flavour reminded her of something she hadn't eaten in a long time.

"Seamus," Emma spoke gravely. "That was chocolate wasn't it?"

"Yeah!" Seamus replied enthusiastically. "Good isn't it?"

She turned to face him. Her expression was one of subdued, but extremely severe, panic. "I'm lactose intolerant."

"Oh! Sorry, Emma! No idea, truly!" Seamus looked deeply apologetic. "It's not gonna hurt you is it?"

"Not severely," Emma groaned, her stomach already cramping. "But unless I get to the bathroom right now, Filch is going to have to end up working overtime just to clean this chair."

At this mental image Emma had produced, Seamus had turned white as a sheet.

In a flash, still before all the students had been seated, Emma got up and bolted as fast as she could in the direction of the girl's bathrooms, her hands gripping her stomach tightly.

Emma felt like she had put in a world record-breaking performance with her sprint to the bathroom, as she slammed the door open, and slammed it closed again, breathing a sigh of relief that her stomach had settled slightly. Thank god it was a false alarm. Somewhere, somehow, Argus Filch felt a wave of relief wash over him, without even knowing the reason why. Emma's ears perked up though. The bathroom was almost completely silent, but in the furthest stall, she could hear the extremely faint sound of sobbing.

Emma stepped lightly towards the stall, and pressed her ear towards it, verifying it was the source of the noise. The person inside snivelled, sobbing intermittently between breaths. Emma felt a deep pang of pity for whoever was on the other side of this door.

She knocked on the stall. "Hello?"

"Go away!", a voice squeaked back.

"Hermione!", Emma replied in shock. "What's the matter? Open the door!"

"No!", Hermione snapped back petulantly.

Emma sighed. "Okay. I'm going to keep banging on this door, and I'll only stop once you open it, okay?" Emma commenced the process of smashing her small fist against the stall with a loud bang. It wasn't long before Hermione huffed in frustration, opened the door, and then fell back on to the toilet. The sight of Hermione was a sorry state. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her hair was wild and matted. She could see a sheen of snot just under her nose where she had been snivelling.

"Right." Emma shut the stall door behind her, now slightly claustrophobic with the two of them in the stall. She leant against the wall of the stall. "What's wrong?"

"Everyone hates me!" a dry sob escaped her, having used up all her tears. "They can't stand me!"

"Well, I know that's not true." Emma crossed her arms. "I think you're pretty great."

"No, you don't." Hermione looked down, stroppily. "You only talk to me so I can help you with classes."

Emma tried to disguise that this comment deeply hurt her. This was obviously not true, but it was painful for Emma to think that Hermione meant that. Hermione was clever obviously, but that attracted Emma because it made her interesting to talk to, not because she could help her with homework. That was just a bonus.

Emma sighed, coming off the stall wall and rubbing her forehead. "Look, I've never been that good at cheering people up, but there's something my dad would do if I was ever upset."

"I don't want to-hey!" Hermione was interrupted when Emma pulled her up rather forcefully.

"Just relax, okay?"

Before Hermione could reply, the air was nearly squeezed out of her when Emma pushed herself hard into Hermione's torso, threw her head over Hermione's shoulder and wrapped her arms tightly around her. Hermione struggled half-heartedly against Emma's death grip hug, before going limp. Emma snuggled her neck tighter into Hermione's. "There we go. Better?"

Hermione didn't speak, but after a few seconds of silence, she returned the hug, wrapping her arms around Emma.

"That's nice," whispered Emma, contentedly. "I guess I needed a hug too. Sometimes that's all any of us need. Just a hug."

The two stood in silence for a second, content in each other's embrace, before Hermione replied. "Thank you."

They stayed like that for almost a minute before they pulled away. "Let's go to the feast then. I bet you're starving," Emma said.

Hermione blew her nose, then smiled and nodded. The two left the stall.

They screamed.

What they were faced with having left the bathroom, was the most horrible creature Emma had ever seen. It was gigantic, upwards of twelve feet tall, it's body grey and lumpy. It held a large, crude wooden club in one meaty fist. Emma didn't know what was worse, the appearance, or the foul smell, which permeated their nostrils even from the complete opposite end of the bathroom. Hermione took five quick panicked steps backwards before her back hit the bathroom wall.

Emma's mind was racing, and she was shaking with fear and adrenaline. There was no way they could run, the monster had the entrance blocked, and it was slowly approaching. It was knocking the sinks off the wall with its gargantuan body as it came closer. What on earth could they fight it with? Emma briefly considered tearing off one of the toilet seat lids to use as a shield, before realising she'd be broken like a cheap rag doll if that club hit her, toilet shield or no toilet shield. Emma pulled out her wand and pointed it level with the trolls head, her arm quivering. She had absolutely no idea what to do.

Suddenly there was a clatter of metal against the bathroom wall. The beast lumbered around to face the noise, and Emma saw through the gap between the beasts arms was Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.

Ron yelled at the monster and threw a pipe at it. The monster then turned to face him, confused with its choice of targets.

Emma cottoned on to the pair's impromptu plan very quickly. She sidestepped away from the wall Hermione was pressed against and picked up a broken tile. She frisbeed it at the beast, and shouted a loud sharp, "Oi!". The beast lumbered round to face her again, it's head bobbing almost as if he was dizzy from all the changes in direction. "Keep doing it!" Emma shouted, "he's thick as pig slop!"

The trio moved and threw, rotating from wall to wall to try and confuse it. The bathroom was only so big though, and soon Ron was trapped, with no way of darting away from the monster. Ron tripped over, stumbling backwards, and his wand came tumbling out of his robes, landing at Emma's feet.

It was then that Harry Potter did perhaps the most simultaneously stupid but cool thing Emma had ever seen, and she was relatively sure if her life wasn't in mortal danger, she would've started clapping. He took a great running leap and landing on the beast's back, with his arms wrapped around its thick neck. He jabbed his wand up into one of the beast's nostrils, and it howled with pain, thrashing Harry about as he held on for dear life.

Ron looked towards Emma, and with unspoken communication, reached out his arm towards her. Emma picked up Ron's wand and threw it towards him.

Ron caught his wand, pointed it towards the troll and cried, "Wingardium Leviosia!"

For a brief awestruck moment, Emma thought the whole monster would be lifted off the ground, but it was the crude wooden club that floated free of the beast's grip. It rose a few feet above its head, then crack. It fell straight on to the monster, the end smacking its head so hard that the troll swayed on the spot, then fell flat on its face. Harry got up and pulled his wand free of the monster's nose.

Hermione was the first to speak.

"Is it - dead?"

"What the hell was it doing here?" asked Emma, still shaking with adrenaline. "Could've at least gone in his own bathroom!"

"I don't think he is," said Harry. "Just knocked out."

Three sets of footsteps came slamming down the corridor, and the bathroom door swung open. Professor McGonagall, Snape and Quirrell entered. Quirrell looked shaken with fright, while Snape looked cold, and McGonagall looked downright furious.

"What on earth were you thinking of?" she cast furious looks at all of them besides Hermione, whom McGonagall hadn't noticed. "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?"

"Hey, am I not allowed to be here?", Emma protested. "Surely there's only one reason for a girl to be in the girl's bathroom. Well, two. Well, I guess three if you count-"

"Miss Lemerrius!" McGonagall snapped. "I would ask that you spare me the detail."

Emma shivered when Snape cast a cold glare towards her. His eyes were naturally menacing.

Then a small voice came out of the shadows.

"Please, Professor McGonagall - they were looking for me."

"Miss Granger!"

Hermione had managed to get to her feet at last.

"I went looking for the troll because I - I thought I could deal with it on my own - you know, because I've read all about them. Emma was already here, doing well, normal things."

Emma's mouth opened in shock. Hermione was covering for Harry and Ron, after their reckless rule-breaking?

Emma did become slightly put out by the fact this narrative the four were spinning involved Emma relieving herself for an extremely extended period of time. Admittedly though, she had come to the bathroom to do just that.

"If they hadn't found me, and Emma hadn't been here to protect me, I'd be dead now. Harry stuck his wand up its nose and Ron knocked it out with its own club. They didn't have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish me off when they arrived."

"Well - in that case... " said Professor McGonagall, staring at the four of them, "Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own?"

Hermione hung her head. Harry looked speechless.

"Miss Granger, five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this," said Professor McGonagall. "I'm very disappointed in you. If you're not hurt at all, you'd better get off to Gryffindor tower. Students are finishing the feast in their houses."

Hermione left.

Professor McGonagall turned to Harry, Ron, and Emma.

"Well, I still say you were lucky, but not many first years could have taken on a full-grown mountain troll. You each win Gryffindor five points. Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. You may go."

They hurried out of the chamber and didn't speak at all until they had climbed two floors up. It was a relief to be away from the smell of the troll, quite apart from anything else.

"We should have gotten more than fifteen points," Ron grumbled.

"Ten, you mean, once she's taken off Hermione's."

"Good of her to get us out of trouble like that," Ron admitted. "Mind you, we did save her."

"And me," Emma replied, putting an arm on each boy's shoulders. "Thanks. A lot."

"Hermione might not have needed saving if we hadn't locked the thing in with her," Harry reminded him.

"Excuse me?" Emma said darkly. The boy's expressions turned sheepish as her grip on them tightened.