Chapter 7 – Great man, Dumbledore

Emma approached the menacing looking gargoyle slowly until it towered over her. She uttered the words 'Mint Humbug' awkwardly and the gargoyle stepped aside revealing a hidden spiral staircase. Emma climbed the staircase and eventually reached a set of large oaken double doors. She was about to knock when she heard a voice from the other side.

'Come in.'

Emma opened the doors and was instantly taken aback by the room she found herself in. The headmaster's office was a large and circular room, full of weird little noises. A number of silver instruments stood on spindle-legged tables, whirring and spitting little puffs of smoke. The walls were covered with portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses, and all of them were watching Emma warily. There was an enormous claw-footed desk covered in books and parchment behind which was the most beautiful bird Emma had ever seen stood calmly on a golden perch. She knew immediately that it was a phoenix, a rare magical bird with red and gold plumage. She could barely keep her eyes off it, and desperately wanted to stroke it.

'Please, sit.' gestured Dumbledore, knocking Emma out of her reverie.

She sheepishly moved toward the chair in front of Dumbledore's desk and sat down.

'You needn't look so worried, miss Pearson.' said Dumbledore with a smile. 'Contrary to what you were expecting, you are not about to be expelled. While there are some that would prefer it, I do not.'

Dumbledore paused for a moment to sit behind his desk. 'I trust the gift I left you was satisfactory? You're looking much healthier.'

'Yes, professor, thank you, but...' replied Emma, confused.

'Many years ago, a young wizard who came to this school had been bitten by a werewolf. There were those that would have expelled him too, or worse. Instead I made arrangements for everyone's safety. I'm going to do the same for you.

'You must recognize that it matters not the unfortunate event that has befallen you, but what you do with yourself now. So long as you can control yourself, that you are never a danger to others and keep your condition a secret, you will always be welcome at Hogwarts.'

'Thank you, professor.' said Emma, beaming. 'I promise I'll try my best.'

'Make no mistake,' said Dumbledore suddenly looking very stern, 'Should you endanger anyone or reveal what you are to anyone, the consequences will be completely out of my hands. Do you understand?'

'Yes, professor.'

'Excellent.' beamed Dumbledore, 'In that case we'll need to arrange your diet. Since we do not currently know how often you will need to feed, you will have to contact me the moment you think your thirst may start becoming a problem. Better safe than sorry, yes?'

Emma nodded, 'Yes, professor, thank you'.

'Good, then I think that's all for the time being, except...' paused Dumbledore, 'Would you satisfy an old man's curiosity do you think. May I ask when it was that you were bitten?'

'I don't know, professor. I don't think I was.'

Dumbledore looked thoughtful for a moment. 'Interesting. Hagrid led me believe that this was a very recent change?'

'Not very, sir. I think it started about three months ago.'

'I see, thank you for indulging me. Now, go and enjoy your weekend now that you're safe in the knowledge that you won't be leaving us so soon.' said Dumbledore smiling.

'Thank you, professor.' said Emma, about to leave. 'Before I go I just wanted to say that I love your phoenix, may I ask, what's its name, sir?'

'Fawkes.' said Dumbledore, looking over to his phoenix admiringly.

'Thank you. Goodbye Fawkes, goodbye professor.' waved Emma.

Emma couldn't believe her luck. Not only had she avoided expulsion, but she'd been promised a regular supply of blood to keep her thirst under control. She didn't have a problem with the conditions Dumbledore had imposed. She knew she couldn't tell anyone, and had no intention of ever biting anyone, let alone killing them.

She decided that since she now owed Hagrid a very big favour, she'd give him a visit. She made her way passed the great hall, into the grounds outside and down to Hagrid's hut. It was nearly dinner time when she arrived and wasn't sure Hagrid would be in.

'Bin ter see Dumbledore have yeh?' she heard Hagrid call from her left, making his way toward her from the forbidden forest armed with a large crossbow.

Emma ran up to Hagrid to give him a hug, though that wasn't easy given how much taller he was.

'Thank you, Hagrid.' she said, releasing him. 'Yes, everything is great! Dumbledore's letting me stay, as long as I don't hurt anyone and nobody finds out.'

'Told yeh he would, didn't I? Great man Dumbledore. Great man.' said Hagrid, opening the hut and hanging up his coat and crossbow and taking off his boots. 'You look a lot better than yeh did yesterday, that's fer sure.'

'I feel a lot better too. I don't feel so... hollow.'

'Not surprised. You've bin starvin' yourself since yeh were bitten, I suppose.'

'But I wasn't bitten, Hagrid. I mean, I don't remember ever being bitten and I can't find any marks either.'

'Not bitten? I've never heard of a vampire not bein' bitten. Yeh're certain?'

'As certain as I can be. What does that mean?'

'I dunno. When did the change start? Maybe that'll give us a clue.'

'It started about three months ago. I slowly started losing sleep and appetite. About a week after I'd met you I stopped being able to sleep completely, and it was last week where I really couldn't eat normal food any more.'

'So gradual? You must be right about not bein' bitten. The change from bein' bitten takes hours, not months.' said Hagrid, deep in thought.

This confused Emma. Like Hagrid she thought it impossible to become a vampire without being bitten. 'Do you know much about vampires? I only know the muggle stories.'

'I don't know much, I'm afraid. Magical creatures are more my thing, see. Maybe you could try the library?'

'Won't that draw attention to myself?'

'I'm sure you'll think of somethin'.'

'Okay, I'll see what I can do. Thank you, Hagrid, for everything, really.'

'Don't mention it. And you let me know if yeh find anythin'.'

'Of course. You're the only person I can tell.'

Emma gave Hagrid another hug, said goodbye and made her way back up to the castle. By this point it was early evening and if she didn't get back to the dormitories soon, she'd be sure to get in trouble. When she got back to the dormitory, she noticed there was a rather large crowd surrounding a notice on the wall. Judging from the chatter she learnt that flying lessons would start on Thursday, and much to everyone's chagrin, it would be with the Slytherin's.

The second week went much the same as the first. Emma was performing well in classes, though still finding some difficult. Potions and Astronomy were both fairly straight forward. Charms was fun and one of the few lessons she was able to use her wand. Transfiguration, while also being one of the few lessons to use wands, was proving far more difficult. They were each given a match by professor McGonagall to turn into needles, but even Hermione had only managed to turn her match silver. Emma just couldn't get hers to change at all. Defence Against the Dark Arts felt worse than the first week. The headache seemed to get worse every minute and felt like it was doing irreparable damage. Hermione inquired a few times whether Emma was alright, but quickly gave up as Emma could barely concentrate on breathing, let alone talking.

By the end of the lesson, Emma had no idea what had been taught.

'Are you alright now?' asked Hermione nearly dragging Emma from the room. 'You looked awful. I nearly asked to have you sent to the hospital wing.'

'Yeah, I'm okay now, I think.' gasped Emma, glad to have some fresh air again. 'It's just...'

Emma was about to mention the garlic and how it was having this effect on her, but realised that that would be tantamount to admitting being a vampire.

'Just... what?'

'Never mind. Don't we have flying lessons now?'

'Yes, that's right.' glared Hermione.

By the look Hermione gave Emma, it was clear she wasn't fooled by the obvious evasion, but she didn't say anything.

They made their way, along with the other Gryffindors, down toward the front steps into the grounds for their first flying lesson. The sky was clear and there was a slight breeze. Perfect weather for flying according to some of the chattering students. Once they'd made their way down the sloping fields they stopped at a smooth lawn on the opposite side of the grounds from the Forbidden Forest. The Slytherins were already there, as were twenty broomsticks lying in two neat rows on the lawn.

When their teacher, Madam Hooch arrived she was quick to get the lesson started.

'Well, what are you all waiting for?' she barked. 'Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up.'

Emma followed Hermione to some brooms and stood by one. It was a scrawny looking thing. It wasn't straight and had bits of twig coming out at strange angles.

'Stick out your right hand over your broom,' called Madam Hooch from the front, 'and say "Up!"'

'UP!' everyone shouted.

Some people's brooms, like Harry's, immediately jumped up into their awaiting hands. Most, like Hermione's simply rolled around the floor. Emma's broom on the other hand was acting like she didn't exist.

Emma tried shouting 'Up' a few more times but it was futile. The broom refused to budge.

Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows, correcting their grips. Emma thought that flying definitely wasn't for her.

'Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard.' said Madam Hooch. 'Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet and then come straight back down by leaning forwards slightly. On my whistle – three –'

Emma was dreading this. She thought maybe she could pretend to kick off and save herself from having to fly.

'- two -'

It turned out that Emma needn't have worried. Neville, a nervous boy, jumped before Madam Hooch had even put the whistle to her lips.

'Come back, boy!' she shouted, but Neville was shooting straight up in the air like a rocket. Neville couldn't hold on though and with a gasp he lost his balance and plummeted toward the ground. There was a thud followed by a horrible cracking sound and Neville lay face first in the grass in a tangled heap.

Madam Hooch rushed to Neville and was leaning over him, face as pale as a ghost.

'Broken wrist.' she said.

Emma knew it was more than that though. She could smell it before she could see it. The assault of the smell on her senses was quick, but thankfully diluted. She'd already sniffed the air and moved forward a step before she regained her control and stopped breathing. Given that everyone's attention was on Neville, Emma was sure that she'd gone unnoticed.

'Come on, boy – it's all right, up you get.'

Madam Hooch turned to the rest of the class.

'None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say "Quidditch". Come on, dear.'

Emma couldn't hold her breath much longer, so before they were even out of sight, she had to breathe. The smell had already given over to fresh air so she was safe again. Emma hadn't realised until this point that she was beginning to get thirsty. Maybe it was the smell that had made her thirsty or maybe not, either way she thought it was time to tell Dumbledore to arrange for another bottle.

Emma was brought back to reality from her thoughts by a commotion between Harry and the Slytherin boy, Malfoy.

'Here we go again.' thought Emma.

Malfoy took off on his broom with something Harry wanted and Harry quickly went to grab his own broom.

'No!' shouted Hermione. 'Madam Hooch told us not to move – you'll get us all into trouble.'

Harry ignored her and grabbed his broom anyway. Once again he fell right into that bully's hands.

Emma didn't want to watch this scenario play itself out so she sat, cross-legged on the ground and started absent-mindedly picking at the grass. She could hear some of the others clap and woop, but wasn't really paying attention. That was until she heard a loud shout.

'HARRY POTTER!'

It was professor McGonagall and she was running toward Harry. Maybe that will teach him not to take a bully's bait next time. Emma doubted it.

'Never – in all my time at Hogwarts -' gasped professor McGonagall, almost speechless with shock. '- how dare you – might have broken your neck -'

Emma didn't want to witness this so she went back to picking grass. By the time Madam Hooch came back the lesson was over and she had sent them all on their way. Emma walked with Hermione until she realised Hermione wasn't heading up to the dormitories.

'Where are we going?' asked Emma, pausing a step.

'The Great Hall.' piped Hermione turning around, 'It's dinner time.'

'Oh.' was all Emma could reply with.

'Let me guess, you're not hungry?'

'A little.' said Emma quietly.

She was being honest at least, only Hermione couldn't know what that meant.

'Come on then.' said Hermione, beckoning.

That was not the invitation Hermione meant to give. Emma couldn't help but glance at Hermione's neck, framed as it was by her bushy hair, and she could see the pulse behind the skin. The fear of attacking someone came back in a flood. She had to get away.

'Uhm...' stammered Emma, taking a small step backward. That wasn't going to be enough.

Hermione looked at Emma with pity. It was obvious that she could see the fear that Emma was feeling.

'Alright then, I'll get you something for later.' said Hermione turning back toward the Great Hall.

As soon as Hermione had turned her back, Emma took off at a sprint toward the dormitories bumping into a few people as she went. It was when she got about half way and her blood lust had cooled that she realised she needed to get a message to Dumbledore immediately. She knew she wouldn't be able to go to his office, he'd likely be at dinner in the Great Hall. Her best bet now was the school owlery at the top of the west tower where the school owls and owls belonging to students lived.

She ran through corridors, some secret passageways and up a lot of stairs. When she arrived she had to lean against a wall to catch her breath.

She took some parchment out of her bag, along with her quill and ink and wondered what she would write. She knew she had to be tactful in case someone else read the letter.

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

I hope this letter finds you well.

I just wanted to write to you to say that I am now beginning to struggle with the gift you sent me. Could I possibly have some help with it?

As for the number of days we were unsure of before, I would say five, but I can't be certain yet.

Sincerely.

Emma Pearson.

Emma hoped that the letter wasn't too cryptic for Dumbledore to understand. She rolled up the letter, packed her parchment and ink back into her bag and went into the owlery. The room was tall, circular and covered from top to bottom in perches except for some large windows which didn't have any glass in, to allow the birds to come and go as they please. The floor was covered in straw, owl droppings and bits of regurgitated rodent skeletons. One of the owls closest to Emma looked at her expectantly and when she held up the letter, it offered it's leg for her to tie it to.

'Could you deliver that to professor Dumbledore, please?'

The owl immediately flew up and out of the window with the letter in tow.