[CHAPTER EIGHT]

A VISIT TO HOGSMEADE 

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AS NOVEMBER TURNED into December, and the days grew shorter and the nights longer, Emily found herself being drowned in homework. Even in her first year of NEWTS, students were expected to handle towers of assignments in various assignments, and Emily quickly discovered those free periods she had so been coveting were in fact study periods.

It was an early Sunday morning on December 7th, and Emily was sat on one of the small benches in the courtyard, holding a mug of tea she had just gone to get in the kitchen. To amuse herself, Emily had bewitched the steam from her mug to dance in shapes and was currently admiring a steam horse trotting in circles above her cup.

Violetta was sat next to her, jotting down some last-minute alterations to her DADA essay on Dementors.

"Why are you even doing that essay? It isn't due for another 2 weeks," Emily said, closing her eyes and enjoying the watery sun against her freezing face.

"I have too much to do already for two weeks," Violetta sighed, "I might as well get it done,"

"I suppose," Emily said dismissively.

There was a silence filled only by the scratching of Violetta's quill against her parchment and the chirping of the few birds out in this cold.

At 8:00 sharp, the large bell of the astronomy tower tolled eight times, and the Violetta closed her books with a loud smack.

"Breakfast?" she asked, as Emily stood up and smoothed out the fur-trim winter coat her mother had gotten for her last Christmas.

"Always," she grinned, and together they walked through the snow-covered courtyard and through the large double door that led to the Great Hall. The Hall itself was quite empty, except for the occasional gaggle of early rising students. At the Gryffindor table, Emily spotted Harry sitting by himself, looking engrossed in a tattered old book that was sitting open at the table, and she walked towards him.

"That looks interesting," she noted, and Harry, so startled by her sudden appearance and voice, accidentally knocked over his glass of orange juice.

He cursed as he hastily stood up to avoid a stain on his pants.

"Oh– I'm so sorry here let me–" she reached for the book, but no sooner had her fingers clasped the side that Harry snatched it from her grasp.

"No don't–" he exclaimed, hastily brushing the juice off.

"Sorry," she said, slightly taken aback, as Harry dabbed away the juice from the table, going to sit down opposite him and pulling the nearest tray of scrambled eggs towards herself.

"So–" he cleared his throat, "You uh...going to Hogsmeade?"

Emily served herself some bacon, before grimacing, "Not sure,"

"Why not?" Harry asked, and Emily could've sworn she saw his face fall.

"Kate's probably going with Robby and Violetta has work to do," she explained.

"So?" he said, smiling brightly at her, "You could come with us!"

Emily was surprised by the offer: it wasn't every day that someone got included with the Golden Trio.

"Are you sure the others won't mind?" she asked tentatively, and he shook his head.

"Don't worry about it," he said.

". . . and then there was another flash of light and I landed on the bed again!" Ron's voice sounded with a laugh, as he and Hermione had just come to sit down on either side of Harry.

Hermione had apparently not found it as amusing as Ron, as she had not cracked a smile during this anecdote, and now turned an expression of wintry disapproval upon Harry.

"Was this spell, by any chance, another one from that potions book of yours?" she asked, and Harry glared at her.

"Always jump to the worst conclusion, don't you?" he said, and Emily opened her mouth to voice her confusion.

"Was it?" Hermione didn't let her speak, focusing on Harry.

"Well . . . yeah, it was, but so what?"

"What's this about?" Emily interjected, and Harry looked embarrassed for a minute, not meeting her eye.

Hermione however, glared at Harry, cowering over his plate of eggs, and told Emily about the Half-Blood Prince's book.

"So you just decided to try out an unknown, handwritten incantation and see what would happen?" Emily asked quizzically.

"Why does it matter if it's handwritten?" said Harry, almost defensively.

"Because it's probably not Ministry of Magic–approved," said Emily.

"And also," Hermione added pointedly, as Harry and Ron rolled their eyes, "because I'm starting to think this Prince character was a bit dodgy."

Both Harry and Ron shouted her down at once.

"It was a laugh!" said Ron, upending a ketchup bottle over his sausages. "Just a laugh, Hermione, that's all!"

"Honestly!" Harry said, indignant, "It's just a book,"

"Just be careful," Emily advised, as the scars on her back ached like a painful memory, "You might've been lucky now, but not-Ministry of Magic approved spells can be unpredictable and...unpleasant,"

What Emily was implying seemed to sink in, and there fell a heavy silence as all of them remembered what had happened to her when she had been on the receiving end of such a spell last year.

"Em, I'm sorry–" Ron started, but she waved his apology off with a half-hearted smile.

"It's nothing, just make sure you know what kind of spell you're casting,"

"Exactly!" Hermione said pointedly, and the boys continued to argue with her, albeit less vividly than before.

Hermione still didn't seem convinced and by the time the foursome had donned their coats and started heading towards Hogsmeade she was still muttering and sending Harry reproachful looks.

The wind was howling and bitter cold, and the snow pelted the string of teenagers making their way towards the village. Ron and Hermione had started bickering about something, and Emily and Harry stood a way apart from them.

"Ready for the tomorrow?" Harry asked, trying to make conversation, and Emily laughed.

"Slytherin won't know what hit them," she joked, and he smiled.

"Well, if you'd like we could maybe practice some more after Hogsmeade?" he suggested tentatively.

Emily hesitated for a minute, before nodding.

"I could use some practice," she nodded, and Harry chuckled.

"With the way you were flying on Thursday at practice, I'd say you do," he said slyly, and she gasped.

"Don't be rude!" she said, giving him a slight shove and making him laugh. There followed a slight awkward silence, before Harry spoke up again.

"You heard from your parents much?" he asked her, and she nodded.

"I got an owl from my mum yesterday, she said the Daily Prophet is getting more and more depressing by the day," she said, before lowering her voice slightly, "But she says Dumbledore wants her to stay in case any You-know-who supporters decide to show themselves,"

"Makes sense," he said, and she looked down at her feet for a minute.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, noticing her change in attitude.

"Well, my mum said Dumbledore would most likely send them on a mission during Christmas break," she said morosely, "Which means I'll be spending it with my Aunt and cousins in Ireland,"

"I've never been, is it nice?" he asked her, and she shook her head.

"In summer, sure, but in winter it's so cold your breath freezes when you blow it," Emily said, "Besides, all my cousin ever wants to talk about is you,"

Harry looked slightly uneasy at this, and Emily rolled her eyes.

"Don't worry, she's 11 and very impressionable, I'm sure it'll pass," Emily said with a smile.

"Until then I'll make sure to stay away from your extended family," he joked, and Emily laughed loudly.

"OI!" Ron called from behind them, "Where are you going? The three broomsticks is here!"

Harry and Emily looked over their shoulders, only to watch Hermione whack Ron over the head and hear him curse at her as they entered the pub. Emily let out a giggle at the sight, before heading towards the pub, Harry in tow. 

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"How is she?"

Emily sat on a bench outside the hospital wing, alongside the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Ginny Weasley sat beside her, nervously tapping her fingers against one of the textbooks in her lap. Madam Pomfrey had just exited the infirmary, and gave them a grave look.

"I'm afraid Ms. Bell is beyond my healing capacity. She's being transported to St. Mungo's as we speak," she said, and Ginny gave Emily a worried look.

"It's best if you'd all head to bed, I don't need you out and about after curfew," said Madam Pomfrey, before nodding and returning to her infirmary.

"You should talk to Demelza Robins," said Ginny quietly, as the team started to walk towards the common room "She's the replacement for Katie,"

"Why me?" Emily asked, and Ginny shrugged.

"You're as close to co-captain as Harry's got, and seeing as he's not showing himself....." Ginny didn't finish, but Emily got her drift and sighed.

"I'll find her when we get back," she said with a nod, as they climbed the staircase before finally arriving in front of the portrait hole.

"Dilligrout," Emily said, and the portrait swung open. The common room wasn't very crowded, but luckily Emily did spot 5th year Demelza Robins sitting by the window with a group of friends.

She approached her, and Demelza looked up, her friends hushing up and all looking at Emily.

"I heard what happened to Katie," Demelza said with worry in her voice, "Is she going to be all right?"

"I don't know," answered Emily honestly, "Listen, can you play tomorrow?"

Demelza looked surprised for a moment, before nodding.

"Uh...yeah, of course," she said, and Emily smiled slightly.

"It'll be difficult, because we haven't practiced with you but Ginny and I will do our best," she said, and Demelza smiled, "You'd better get some sleep,"

Emily bid them goodnight as they stood up, and heaved herself to one of the armchairs facing the fire, feeling herself sink into it as she stared into the open flame.

As the hour got later and the fire started the die, the common room emptied of students, until it was deserted. She had reached into her bag and opened "A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration", attempting to read the chapter due for Monday, but managed only a few lines before her eyes drifted back to the portrait hole.

Finally, after nearly a half-hour, the portrait swung open and in clambered Ron, Hermione and Harry. Emily, attempting to look like she hadn't been awaiting their arrival, hastily averted her gaze towards her textbook again, listening hard to their conversation nevertheless.

"...but Harry, he wasn't in Hogsmeade!" Hermione said heatedly.

"Then he must've had an accomplice, maybe Crabbe, or Goyle," Harry argued, "­—or, come to think of it, another Death Eater, he'll have loads better cronies than Crabbe and Goyle now he's joined up—"

"Don't be ridiculous Harry, you've no proof!" Hermione said, her foot actually stamping in frustration.

"I heard him—" Harry started, but Emily had finally stood up and his speech stopped abruptly at the sight of her.

Acting as though she had not just heard the conversation, Emily started packing away her book without looking at them, and heard Hermione bid the boys goodnight. Ron too made a move to go, and Harry assured him he'd be in soon after him.

"I'm sorry we never got practice," she heard him say, and looked up.

"It's no big deal," she answered with a smile, before swinging her bag over her shoulder, "Who were you talking about, with Ron and Hermione?"

At first it looked like Harry might yell at her to mind her own business, before he sighed.

"Malfoy," he replied, "I think..."

He seemed to hesitate on how to finish, but Emily seemed to understand.

"You think he's become one of them," she said with a sigh, and Harry nodded.

"Why?" she asked him.

"He's acting strange. Before we came to school, we ran into Malfoy and his mother at Madam Malkin's, and he got squeamish when we reached for his left arm..."

"She could have just poked him with a needle?" Emily suggested, and shook his head.

"It isn't just that, Em. He quit Quidditch, and I heard him talk on the train about having more important things to do than attend Hogwarts next year,"

There was a moment of silence in which Emily elected to say nothing, and Harry nervously fidgeted with the hem of his sweater.

"I believe you," she said quietly, her mind flashing back to this summer.

Harry looked surprised, and let out a relieved breath.

"I thought it would take more convincing," he confessed, and she shook her head.

"I've learned to know that when you get a feeling, they're usually pretty spot-on," she said, and he laughed lightly.

"I'm glad at least you believe me, Ron and Hermione think I'm crazy­–"

"I could never think you crazy," she said suddenly, and he halted mid-sentence, looking surprised.

Her brain scrambled to find a way to make this less awkward, but before she could blurt out something, Harry smiled.

"I'm glad,"