Chapter 19 – Pensieve

Emma gasped awake with a strong sense of deja vu. She was lying on a large, lumpy surface looking up at the ceiling. It looked like she was in Hagrid's hut. The heavy, ragged breathing and large beating heart to her side, out of sight, certainly sounded like him. It took a few moments for her to remember why she was here and she sat up, slowly, and looked down at herself.

Her eyes bulged at the sight. Her hands, blouse, skirt, stockings and shoes were covered in blood, so much so that they looked like they had been dyed dark red. She then looked at her chest, where the arrow had been and saw a large hole in her blouse, where the arrow had pierced it.

'Mrs Cole is going to kill me.' she thought, sticking her fingers through the hole.

Emma then got up quickly, noticing she had been lying on Hagrid's bed, and stood up beside it. She instantly realised that was a bad idea as she got hit by a sudden wave of dizziness and she ended up falling back onto the bed.

Emma huffed indignantly. She felt so weak, though that was hardly surprising given that all the blood on her clothes was her own. In fact, now that she thought about it, she was confused as to why she wasn't in a frenzy right now.

She lifted her stained hand up to her nose and smelt it. It was definitely blood, but there was something wrong about it. She supposed vampire blood wasn't appealing, or nutritious, maybe to avoid cannibalism or something.

A shift in movement to her side grabbed her attention now, and she looked then at Hagrid. She thought she could see confusion and horror in his wide eyes. It looked like he'd been crying. Emma shook her head at him in annoyance.

'Yer alive...' he gasped, finally.

'Of course.' said Emma flatly, keeping her emotions in check. 'I told you I'd heal.'

'But... yer heart stopped. You died.' he said quietly.

'Really?' asked Emma, curious, despite herself. 'Then Hermione was right, the troll did kill me... Is that why I'm here, and not in the hospital wing?'

Hagrid nodded at her, shocked and speechless. She was being so blasé about this.

Emma looked at Hagrid after a moment. This whole event seemed to have turned him into a wreck, but Emma couldn't afford to pity him yet.

'So...' she said demandingly.

He seemed to know what she was after, and he started sobbing again and he apologised, profusely, for letting Emma go alone in the forest, and for ignoring her warnings until he was incoherently babbling. It was really quite the apology, but Emma wanted to make sure he had learned his lesson.

'You can apologise all you like, Hagrid, but until you realise we're not all as indestructible as you, it's meaningless. It'll just happen again.'

She paused, letting him absorb what she was saying.

'At least it was me this time. What if it had been Harry? He's not half-giant, or a vampire. He's just a fragile human. And I'm sure you remember Norbert putting Ron in the hospital for days after it bit him.'

Emma knew she'd hit a nerve when she mentioned Harry. Hagrid was fond of him most of all, having known his parents. He shook his head a little and sobered up, looking at Emma again, then nodded.

'Good.' said Emma, bossily. 'Now, I'm going to have to get back before anyone sees me like this.'

She stood up again and was hit with another dizzy spell. She fell back on the bed and shook her head.

'Eurgh.' she moaned.

Hagrid got up and picked something out of a cupboard and passed it to Emma. It was the same white ceramic bottle she gets in her trunk. She just looked between the bottle and Hagrid, confused.

'So it's you that's been getting the blood for me!' she exclaimed, finally, suddenly feeling very guilty for having had a go at him. 'Thank you!'

'Don' mention it.' said Hagrid, having recovered his composure. 'It was jus' getting thrown away 'til you got 'ere, so...'

Emma nodded and warmed the bottle up with her wand and then looked awkwardly at Hagrid. She'd never drunk in front of anyone before. She felt like it was something very private and personal.

Hagrid noticed her awkwardness and mirrored it, suddenly deciding to busy himself around the hut, keeping his back to her.

If she still lost control, she wouldn't have been able to risk drinking with him here, however, she hadn't really lost control for over two months now. That and she'd just made a point of calling Hagrid indestructible.

She downed the bottle and lay back on the bed, feeling the warmth strengthen her. She could have laid there for hours, but it would be dawn soon and she needed to get back. She said goodbye to Hagrid, not having completely forgiven him yet, but she wasn't angry any more.

When she entered the common room, Emma saw Hermione asleep on the sofa where they had been working earlier, her notes still strewn over the table. Emma chuckled to herself quietly. She wasn't sure if Hermione had stayed up for her, or had just fallen asleep while working. Both were equally likely at this point.

Emma made her way toward Hermione, to wake her up, but she was already stirring.

'Emma?' she asked, groggily, before sitting up.

Hermione took in Emma's appearance, and Emma was somewhat hurt that the first emotion visible on her face was fear, but, given that she was a vampire, covered in blood, she let it slide. That the next emotion was concern, having seen the hole in Emma's blouse, helped too.

'What happened?' she squeaked.

'It's a long story.' said Emma, sitting beside Hermione. 'Short version is, I died again.'

'You died?' mouthed Hermione. She seemed to have lost her voice.

Sighing a little, Emma recounted everything. She surprised herself when she got to the part where the arrow had pierced through her chest, when she realised she was shaking, and had even started crying. Up until the retelling, the whole experience didn't feel very real, like she was just an observer, but now it felt all too real, and she could remember every little detail. For the first time, Emma felt truly broken. She tried to be strong with Quirrell, and with the arrow, but she was still just a child. Even as a vampire she could only take so much.

At some point during the talk, Hermione had taken one of Emma's bloody hands and held it in her own, trying to keep Emma calm. She remembered the first time Emma died better even than Emma herself, and it had taken them both quite a while to get passed it.

'You should go to Dumbledore.' said Hermione when Emma had finished. 'If you-know-who is after the stone, he must be stopped.'

Emma nodded and was about to stand. 'I just want to... clean up... before anyone sees me.'

'No.' rushed Hermione, pulling Emma's hand to keep her sitting. 'I think it will be more impactful if he sees you like this.'

Emma nodded, unsure. 'Can you come with me? I don't think I could go through that again by myself.'

'Of course.' she said, eyes softening.

It was a mark of just how bad things were when Hermione didn't even mention that it was still at least two more hours until curfew was over.

Emma led Hermione through the castle toward Dumbledore's office, taking it slow and keeping an ear out. Even though Hermione hadn't mentioned curfew, she was still visibly nervous about breaking the rules, and not having the invisibility cloak, or Emma's ability to hide, wasn't helping.

Emma on the other hand was getting more and more relaxed. Going through the castle unseen was second nature to her now, and they made it to the gargoyle with ease.

Emma said the password, glad Dumbledore hadn't changed it yet and they both went up and knocked on the door. At first there was no response, so they knocked again, harder.

A few moments later, Dumbledore opened the door and he was wearing some sort of full length night gown and a night-cap. Evidently he'd been asleep.

Hermione spoke first, for which Emma was thankful. If she started talking, she'd either start shouting or crying.

'Sorry to bother you, Professor, but we really have to talk.'

'Certainly, my dears. Do come in. What seems to be the trouble.'

At that, Emma stepped out of the shadows and into the light from the office. She watched as Dumbledore's eyes popped in surprise. It took him so long to recover his usual light-hearted exterior that Emma was sure even Hermione had caught it.

'We know that it's Quirrell that is after the stone, and we know why.' said Hermione, before she explained what happened.

Emma occasionally added details that Hermione forgot or missed out, but mostly kept quiet.

'You're angry?' asked Dumbledore to Emma after a few moments of silence.

She shook her head at him. She was passed angry now, just upset.

'I am sorry,' he said sincerely. 'I believed Hagrid and yourself could either stop the attack on the unicorn, or save it. However, I underestimated the threat, and that is my fault.'

'And what about Emma dying?' said Hermione, raising her voice.

'Hagrid assured me that Miss Pearson would be safe with him.'

'And you believed him?' she asked, incredulous. 'Hagrid is wonderful, definitely, but he thought he could raise an illegal dragon in his hut, and keeps a giant three-headed dog. His definition of safe is woefully inadequate.'

'Yes, well...' he said, thinking. 'I will talk to him later.'

'Don't bother.' interrupted Emma. 'I already did. I think he got the message.'

Dumbledore nodded then, pausing a moment before continuing.

'So, you believe Voldemort is the one controlling Professor Quirrell?'

'I know he is, Professor. He said so himself.'

Dumbledore pondered for another few moments before seemingly changing the subject.

'Professor McGonagall tells me that you are quite capable with Charms spells.' he said, his mood brightening somewhat.

'A little, I guess.' replied Emma.

'Emma.' chided Hermione, rolling her eyes. 'She learned the summoning, severing and healing fourth-year charms, all in one night. She's better than capable.'

Emma ducked her head again, embarrassed, and Hermione just giggled.

'Excellent.' beamed Dumbledore, pretending to miss their exchange. 'Then have either of you heard of something called a Pensieve?'

Hermione's hand shot up, as if she were in class, which made Emma laugh, and it was Hermione's turn to be embarrassed. She blushed before answering anyway.

'It is a vessel used to review memories.'

'Exactly, Miss Granger.' he smiled.

He got up to get a book from one of his many shelves, opened it to a specific page and passed the book to the two of them.

'Please, read that page.'

'A spell to extract a memory?' asked Emma. 'You want to see my memory of Voldemort?'

'Yes, my dear.' he said. 'We shall all review it together.'

Emma read through the page once. It seemed fairly straight forward. Just focus intently on a memory and then imagine it being pulled out by the wand. Emma was worried it would remove the memory, but the book explicitly stated that it would leave the original intact.

It took her a few tries before she managed to extract it. In fact, Hermione managed to accomplish it first. Dumbledore offered Emma a glass when the memory started coming out, attached to the tip of her wand. She thought it looked like luminous, bluey-silver snot.

Emma and Hermione followed Dumbledore across the room and watched as he took the Pensieve out of a cupboard. He then put it on a special pedestal before dropping in Emma's memory.

'What now?' asked Emma, confused.

'Move your head toward the bowl. You will feel as if you are falling, however, it will pass quickly enough.'

Emma did as she was told and she knew what Dumbledore meant immediately. Her body wasn't moving, but she felt her consciousness get sucked into the Pensieve and she fell until she found herself in the forest. Everything seemed to be shimmering as if it were made of mist, or smoke.

She looked around and saw herself following the blood trail, slowly. It was amazing, but also very creepy.

After a moment, she was joined by Hermione and Dumbledore. Both of them had looks of wonder on their faces. This was certainly Hermione's first time experiencing a Pensieve, so her expression was understandable. Reading and doing were two very different things. Dumbledore on the other hand must have done this hundreds of times, so he was more difficult to fathom.

'It's all so detailed!' gasped Hermione. 'I read that memories in Pensieves are usually very cloudy.'

'You are quite correct, Miss Granger.' said Dumbledore, looking around. 'This is without a doubt the most detailed memory I have ever witnessed. Remarkable.'

'The book said to remember as clearly as possible.' frowned Emma, awkwardly.

'Is this how you see, all the time?' asked Hermione, curious.

'When it's dark, yeah.' said Emma, nodding.

'You know, Emma. I get more and more jealous of you every day.' she smiled.

Emma didn't know what to say to that, and luckily, Dumbledore interrupted them.

'It seems you have found something.' he said, indicating ahead at the pool of blood where the unicorn had been struck.

They witnessed the rest of the memory, all the way until Emma blacked out when Hagrid removed the arrow. Hermione had tears in her eyes, and Emma had pointedly looked away, not wanting to watch her own death again. Dumbledore too looked very troubled. Once the memory had faded, they all found themselves standing around the Pensieve again.

'I would like to keep this memory, Miss Pearson, if I may?' asked Dumbledore.

'Of course, Professor.'

'Thank you, now, I shouldn't have to tell either of you that it would be very dangerous for everyone should this news of Voldemort get out.'

They both nodded at him. 'Yes, Professor.'

'Good. Then I believe you both should return to your studies before you are missed.' he said, before remembering Emma's current horrific appearance. 'Of course, you can't return like that.'

Dumbledore pointed his wand at Emma and all of the blood vanished from her clothes and hands. Apart from the hole in her blouse, and messy hair, she looked as good as new.