Chapter 22 – Unforgivable

Quirrell came into view through the door, smirking.

'Left you behind have they?' he said, sneering. 'Realised you're a useless squib?'

Emma, overcome with that strange sense of fear and calm she felt when threatened by Quirrell, just shrugged and put her robes over her nose automatically. She had no idea where this personality of hers came from, or where it went after their last encounter, but she was thankful for it now. Her anger was bubbling up again and the fearlessness that accompanied it was most welcome.

'Something like that.' she said, flatly.

'It's for the best, really. They'd never be your friends if they knew what you are.' he said, smiling coldly. 'Our deal still stands, by the way.'

'Not going to happen.'

'That's unfortunate, after all, you've done most of the work to get the stone for me. Though I expected as much. Dumbledore really has turned you into ever such a loyal pet, hasn't he?'

That stung Emma more than she thought it would, and Quirrell knew it, smiling at her discomfort. She'd been compared to a pet before, and given the magical community's feelings toward half-breeds, it made her feel more worthless than being an orphan did. That combined with the knowledge that she wouldn't be able to fend for herself in the wild really upset her. She was entirely dependant on Dumbledore and Hagrid. If they stopped feeding her, she wouldn't last long.

'I'd rather be his pet than Voldemort's.'

She knew Voldemort and Quirrell would use her and then kill her, and almost certainly expect her to hunt humans, probably muggles. Maybe they would even expect her to turn people into vampires, to create an army they could use to take over again. Whatever the case, she would have no part in it. She'd rather die.

'You dare speak his name!' hissed Quirrell.

'What's he going to do, kill me?' she said in a bored tone. 'You're already going to do that anyway.'

'There are worse things than death, little one. Crucio.'

When Quirrell incanted that last word, Emma suddenly felt as if she had been bathed in direct sunlight again and it was a difficult sensation to describe. It was a feeling she'd expect to have if she was being burned alive, or dumped in a pool of acid, or perhaps a combination of the two. Still, it wasn't that bad. The pain was only a little worse than she had experienced earlier that day standing outside, though it was still nowhere near as bad as garlic could be, and given that her robes were over her nose, she was thankfully garlic-free for the moment.

'I think you underestimate how painful death can be.' said Emma, wincing.

It seemed that Quirrell was expecting a completely different reaction to that spell and Emma actually laughed at his expression. She was surprised at herself, not just for the laughter, but for the anger that was building within her. She'd never hated anyone before in her life, and she always tried to be calm and mild mannered. It was something she picked up at the orphanage. The calm, smiling, quiet ones were always treated better by the adults. It was with that thought that she really had to wonder how it was that she truly hated the man standing in front of her. Not even her mother had earned as much ire as Quirrell.

Emma was distracted, however, when Hermione burst through the purple flames behind her. It also distracted Quirrell as the pain she was feeling vanished as quickly as it had arrived. Quirrell quickly recovered himself though and sneered at the both of them.

'Ah, Miss Granger, how nice of you to join us.' he laughed. 'I wonder, Miss Pearson, if your friend here is as resistant to pain as you are?'

He repeated the incantation, but Emma was quicker. She moved directly in front of Hermione and felt the pain return. Quirrell was livid, but Hermione became worried when Emma had stiffened in response to the pain and stepped to the side to see him.

'Stop it!' she screamed, weakly.

'Of course.' he replied, silkily, and quickly cast the spell again on Hermione as Emma recovered.

Hermione immediately buckled and fell to the floor, her limbs stretching in grotesque angles, her back arching and screaming in agony. It was truly shocking to watch, and Emma was terrified that Quirrell was killing Hermione. She quickly realised that the only way she could help Hermione now was to interrupt Quirrell. She felt really thankful that the A-Z of Charms book that Hermione had bought her for her birthday contained the disarming charm.

'Expelliarmus.' incanted Emma, rushing.

Quirrell was too focussed on Hermione, and probably wasn't expecting Emma to be able to cast magic, thinking that vampires were mostly incapable, so he wasn't prepared. The wand flew out of his hand and Hermione stopped screaming at once, whimpering and twitching on the floor, unable to get up.

'You insolent little vampire!' yelled Quirrell. 'Enough of this!'

He waved one of his hands and ropes appeared out of thin air. They wrapped themselves around Emma and Hermione, lifting them both a foot off the ground, constricting them and moving them to the side of the room. He then summoned his wand back wordlessly before Harry appeared from the purple flames.

Emma could have hugged him so tight if she wasn't bound and in a perilous situation. His timing was impeccable. She was sure that Quirrell was about to take her and Hermione's wands off them. As it was, Quirrell was now too busy goading Harry with Emma and Hermione momentarily forgotten.

Emma wasn't paying much attention to their conversation, she was busy herself. She was trying to twist her left hand around to point her wand at the ropes, but it was stuck behind her back and the ropes were too tight.

While she was struggling, she couldn't help wonder what Quirrell was doing. If it had been Emma in his position, she'd have killed herself and Hermione immediately, and Harry only after making sure he had the stone. She'd probably be half way across the North Sea by now. Instead, Quirrell seemed to be having fun playing with, and taunting, his victims. Voldemort too seemed to enjoy this as Quirrell had taken off his turban again and turned away from Harry. Voldemort was trying to persuade Harry to hand over the stone and join him. They were beginning to sound like a broken record.

Harry had refused to help Voldemort and went for his wand. That made Quirrell quickly respond by disarming Harry and wrapping him in yet more magical ropes.

'Don't be a fool,' snarled Voldemort. 'Better save your own life and join me … or you'll meet the same end as your parents … They died begging me for mercy …'

'LIAR!' shouted Harry, suddenly.

Quirrell walked backward toward Harry, so that Voldemort could still see him. The evil face was smiling.

'How touching …' he hissed. 'I always value bravery … Yes, boy, your parents were brave … I killed your father first and he put up a courageous fight … but your mother needn't have died … she was trying to protect you … Now give me the stone, unless you want her to have died in vain.'

'NEVER!'

Emma had finally been able to shift her hand, pointing her wand at her ropes, and now needed to cut them.

'Diffindo.' she incanted quietly.

The severing charm that was released sliced through all of the ropes like butter, but it had also sliced a cut up along her back. The pain was inconsequential given what was going to happen to her next.

'So be it … kill the others.' ordered Voldemort to Quirrell.

Quirrell turned to point his wand at Emma, but she was already half a step ahead of him, casting another severing charm at Harry's ropes. She wasn't quite fast enough though as before she could try a shield charm, Quirrell had already cast an Expulso charm.

'No!' screamed Hermione and Harry together.

Emma watched as Harry was released from his ropes and immediately went to grab Quirrell's arm, as he had no other option, being wandless. It was then that Quirrell's spell hit her in the chest and simply exploded. It had enough force to break multiple bones and internal organs, as well as throw her across the room into the wall, on which she broke her skull. When she blacked out, her clothes were on fire, and she could hear Hermione, Harry, Quirrell and Voldemort screaming.

When Emma regained consciousness, her eyelids heavy and remaining closed, she wondered where she was. The first thing she noticed was the sound of four people around her, only one of them moving about. She could hear two weak heartbeats, and the slow even breathing that accompanied them, to her right, a short distance away. One of them sounded like Ron, but she wasn't sure who the other one was. If she had to guess, it would probably be Harry. The third person, the one moving around, was an adult and she was muttering angrily to herself about keeping trolls and three-headed dogs in a school. Emma didn't recognise the voice, but given the two unconscious bodies nearby, and that she could smell numerous different potions, she assumed she was in the hospital wing.

What drew Emma's attention most of all was the body just on her left. A strong frantic heartbeat and strange erratic breathing. It sounded like a very upset Hermione. It also smelt like her too, and she'd definitely been crying recently. At least she was still alive though.

Emma had barely been awake a few seconds when that thought hit her, along with everything else that happened before she was hit with the explosion. It was all well and good having a personality that could cope with dangers and friends getting hurt, but when it went away again, the flood gates opened and Emma found herself drowning in emotions she wasn't prepared for.

She started shaking a little at first, but quickly turned onto her side and started crying. She was about to curl up into a ball when Hermione noticed and hurled herself onto Emma, hugging her tightly. She too was crying again. Emma found herself holding onto Hermione, just to keep herself together.

Madam Pomfrey, the matron of the hospital wing, had heard the crying and went to check up on Hermione. She wasn't taking Emma's death well. Earlier she had been adamant that Emma would heal and come back to life, but wouldn't say how. The matron had simply discounted it as hysteria, but when she saw the two of them, she was shocked and amazed to see them both alive.

Emma had been in such a terrible state when she arrived. She was covered in severe burns where her robes had caught fire, her chest cavity had almost entirely collapsed and her skull, well, that didn't bear thinking about. Yet here she was, less than half-an-hour later, looking like nothing had happened.

If Madam Pomfrey had been paying any attention to Emma, she might have witnessed it, but she had been tending to the Weasley and Potter boys. Emma had been dead, there was nothing she could have done. She decided to put her medical curiosity to the side and give the girls their privacy, making sure the curtains were drawn again, before going back to Harry and Ron.

Emma and Hermione were lying there on the cot for a good fifteen minutes before they had both managed to calm down, but it took them a little longer for them to break the silence.

'I thought you wouldn't come back.' shuddered Hermione.

'I thought you'd all be dead when I did come back.' whispered Emma. 'I was so scared when he cast that pain spell on you.'

They both winced at the memory.

'Are you okay? The pain has gone, hasn't it?' asked Emma.

'Yeah... I'm alright.' stammered Hermione. 'I'm just glad you're back... Please don't die again.'

Emma laughed morosely at that, quietly. 'I'll do my best.'

'Good.' said Hermione, tightening the hug.

'So how are Harry and Ron? Their heartbeats sound so weak. Are they okay? How long have we been here? What happened after I...?'

'Madam Pomfrey said Ron should be fine. He just got a knock on the head, but she doesn't know what's wrong with Harry.' she whimpered. 'And I'm not sure what happened after you... after...'

Hermione shuddered and shook her head, trying to get rid of a memory.

'Harry got hold of Quirrell, and I don't know how, or why, but Quirrell started burning at Harry's touch. It seemed to hurt Harry too, but he just kept hold until Dumbledore arrived.'

'So, that's how you're okay? Harry stopped him from hurting you?'

Hermione nodded, and Emma sighed in relief.

'So how long have I been here,' asked Emma before stopping, suddenly noticing what she was wearing. 'and why am I in my nightie?'

Hermione laughed weakly and blushed a little in response, then got up to sit back on the chair beside the cot.

'I put it on you... after you healed...' she stammered quickly, looking very uncomfortable. 'You... weren't wearing much. The spell burned most of your robes away. I asked Dumbledore to summon you something to wear from your trunk. I... didn't think you'd want to be... nude.'

'Oh, fair enough.' said Emma, simply, and sat up to face Hermione. 'Thank you.'

'You're not mad?'

'Nope.' shrugged Emma nonchalantly and then received a confused look. 'I think everyone at the orphanage has seen me naked at one point or another. I was raised there from a few days old after all. You kind of get used to not having any privacy.'

Hermione looked shocked at that before shaking her head and looking away, still a little embarrassed. She was spared after a few moments though when Madam Pomfrey opened the curtains slightly to let herself in.

'Well, Miss Pearson. While I am very glad that I am not having to prepare your body for a funeral at present, might I ask how in Merlin's name you are alive again, and how Miss Granger knew it would happen?'

'You didn't tell her?' asked Emma, looking at Hermione.

'Not my secret to tell.' she replied, matter of factly.

'Thanks, Hermione.' smiled Emma, turning back to the matron's confused expression. 'Can you keep a secret, Madam?'

'A secret?' she inquired curiously. 'Regarding your health? Why certainly. Healer-Patient confidentiality is a sacred trust.'

Emma and Hermione looked at each other and nodded. Emma then listened to make sure nobody else was around to overhear them.

'I'm a vampire.'

'A vampire?' wondered Madam Pomfrey. 'How interesting. That would certainly explain the swift healing, but returning from the dead... Never in all my years.'

She paused looking over the two of them and frowned, before returning to her normal expression.

'Well, let me take a look at both of you. I've done all I can for the boys for the time being.'

The matron then cast a number of simple spells on Hermione first, they seemed to be some form of magical diagnostic test.

'Besides a few scrapes from the ropes around your waist and arms, you're in very good health. I can fix them up quite easily.'

She bade Hermione lift up her top to show her belly before casting a wordless spell on the rope marks. Emma was very familiar with the spell, having learned it already. It was the Episkey healing charm. Once the spell was cast, all the minor scrapes and bruises from Hermione vanished.

'Good as new.' beamed the matron before turning to Emma. 'Your turn.'

'Oh, I'm fine, Madam. Pretty light-headed, but that will go away once I've fed.'

'It doesn't hurt to check.' frowned Madam Pomfrey, casting the diagnostic spells again.

'I don't think they'll work. I'm apparently resistant to magic.'

She cast the spells a few times before seemingly agreeing with Emma.

'That will be problematic.' she frowned again. 'Well, at least you're an easy patient. May I ask how you've been feeding yourself? Have you been drinking human blood?'

'No, not human!' said Emma, emphatically. 'Animal blood. I think it's leftover from the meat from the kitchens. Hagrid collects it for me, and I guess it's Dumbledore that makes the bottle appear in my trunk every other night.'

'Hmm.' thought Madam Pomfrey. 'How much are you normally given?'

'The bottle is about so...' said Emma, moving her hands to show the height and width. She thought it was about half a litre.

Madam Pomfrey nodded, thoughtfully. 'And you said you feed once every two days?'

'Yes, Madam.' replied Emma, curious as to why her diet was getting such an interrogation.

'How often do you feel hungry?'

Emma ducked her head and winced, feeling self-conscious. It was a question she hoped to avoid. 'All the time.'

'What!' exclaimed Hermione, concerned. 'Why didn't you say something?'

'You know I don't want to feed every day, Hermione.' sulked Emma.

Finally, Madam Pomfrey nodded to herself, her questions over.

'I will contact the headmaster immediately and we shall discuss your diet.' she said, her stern matron attitude returning. 'It's all wrong! You're consuming far too little, far too often! It's no wonder you're always hungry.'

She then muttered under her breath about nobody telling her anything these days and then looked at Emma again.

'You need rest! Miss Granger, you should get some rest as well, so you can stay here for the moment.'

'Thank you, Madam.' they both said in unison.

The matron nodded again and went back to her office, resuming her angry muttering.

Emma was forced to stay lying on the cot for nearly twenty minutes, getting more and more restless and irate as the minutes ticked by. Hermione had started giggling at Emma's expression. It was a testament to her self control that Emma didn't simply get up and start exploring the castle. She doubted she could stand up without getting dizzy and falling over, but that wouldn't have stopped her.

When Professor Dumbledore finally arrived, he found himself having to apologise for many of his actions, or lack thereof. Firstly, there was the matter of him ignoring the evidence from Emma's memories, his excuse being that they were so detailed, he couldn't help but feel that they were fabricated, or more worryingly, implanted by someone else to implicate Quirrell. Then he apologised for being away from the school during their foray into the forbidden corridor. He believed he had received a letter from the ministry, but it was a fake sent by Quirrell. He had gone most of the way to London before the wards alerted him to the intrusion. Of course, he also apologised for Emma dying again, and the current state of the two boys, who were both still unconscious. Lastly, he apologised for not telling Madam Pomfrey about Emma, and therefore getting her feeding regime wrong.

Madam Pomfrey had explained that vampires in the wild, so to speak, would typically hunt one mammal, preferably human, every couple of weeks, consuming large quantities of blood in one go. The way Emma was currently being fed was equated to a human eating their meals one mouthful at a time, spread out equally over an entire day. The stomach never getting enough, always feeling empty, and always begging for more, but still getting enough to survive.

It was decided, with the help of Madam Pomfrey, that Emma would be weaned off her current diet, having it slowly increase in volume but spaced further and further apart. The worry was that if she went too long too quickly without feeding, she could end up being a danger. Emma was perfectly happy with the arrangement. If it stopped her feeling hungry all the time, it was worth it.

'If we are done then, Miss Pearson, Miss Granger, I will take my leave.' said Dumbledore, turning to the door.

'Actually, Professor. We have a few questions.' replied Emma.

'I'm sure you do.' chuckled Dumbledore. 'I will endeavour to answer them if I am able.'

'We were wondering if you know of a spell whose incantation is Crucio.'

Dumbledore suddenly looked much older and wearier, and looked at the two of them in sorrow.

'He used it on the both of you?'

'Yes, Professor. Just us two.' said Emma.

'It is the Cruciatus Curse.' sighed Dumbledore, heavily. 'Otherwise known as the Torture Curse. It is one of the Unforgivables and was created purely to inflict excruciating pain, a fact I am very saddened to know that you have both experienced.'

Hermione winced, wrapped her arms around herself and looked distressed. Emma quickly hugged her.

'Were Quirinus still here, he would be facing a life sentence in Azkaban for the use of such a curse against you, Miss Granger.'

'But not Emma?' asked Hermione.

'I'm afraid not. The law surrounding the Unforgivable Curses only covers the use of them against other humans.'

'But that's...'

'It's okay, Hermione, really.' interrupted Emma.

'No, it isn't fair. Unfortunately, that is just the way of things.' he sighed again. 'Do you have any further questions?'

'Uhm... yes, Professor.' replied Emma. 'I was wondering if I would be allowed to stay at Hogwarts over the summer? I mean, it would be very difficult for me to keep being a vampire a secret, and... it could be dangerous, if I lost control. And how would you give me my food? And how would I heat it up?'

'I am sorry, Miss Pearson, but I cannot allow you to stay. If I did, I would have to allow others to stay too, and we simply do not have the facilities to take care of a large number of students over the summer. I'm sure you understand. Your food will be given to you in the usual manner, and I will ensure that it is heated before it is sent to you.'

'Okay, sir.' sulked Emma.

'Will that be all? If so, I must be going. I have a staff vacancy to fill.'

'Yes, Professor. I think that's all.' said Hermione, glaring a little and Dumbledore left.

'Don't worry, Emma. When we get back to the common room, I'll write a letter to my parents asking if you can stay over.'