After six weeks of school, Emaline was beginning to find her niche. She had received praise from several other teachers on her teaching skills, and not one student had skipped class. Every grade level had finished their reports on dark creatures, and she was pleased at what they had accomplished. She was now moving on to more complicated and complex spells.
The mirror had been right; many of the older students were starting to treat her as one of their group instead of a teacher. As long as they continued to be respectful and do their assignments, she was fine with it. She had made her students feel comfortable enough that when she overheard them talking about relationships and problems, they didn’t shut her out. On a few occasions they had even asked for her opinion.
One afternoon she learned the hard way that defensive spells and first-year students did not go well together. She had dismissed class early due to the fact that she now had a severe burn on her arm from a misguided curse, and festering blisters were starting to form.
Someone was approaching from the other direction as she was heading to the Hospital Wing, and she smiled when she saw him. “Well if it isn’t my favourite prefect.”
“Hey, Emma. Bloody hell, what happened to you?” Ron took hold of her arm and began to examine the blisters.
“Ron, please, in the halls you must call me ‘Professor’. I got hit with a Blasting Curse.”
Ron carefully took her arm to examine it then frowned. “Who did this to you?”
“It was an accident in class; I am going to see if Madame Pomfrey has something I can put on it. Walk with me?” Emmaline gave him a coy smile and waited for his answer.
Ron released her arm, and they started to climb the stairs together. “Have you talked to your parents yet?” she inquired conversationally.
Ron tried to pretend he didn’t know what she was talking about by giving her a blank look.
“Oh come on, Ron, you know, the engagement. Have you had a chance to tell them?”
“No, I’m a little afraid to. I’m sure that Mum is going to freak and say that I am too young. I’ll just wait until Christmas break, then I can tell them face-to-face.” Ron nodded his head as if agreeing with himself that this was the best plan.
Emmaline smiled at him, “Coward. Where is your Gryffindor courage?” She gave him a playful shove. At that same moment, a wave of nausea hit her, and she went white as a ghost. “Ron, I don’t feel so —“ Her last word was cut off as she lost consciousness.
Ron grabbed her before she hit the ground, swept her up in his arms, and practically ran to her private living quarters, which were much closer than the Hospital Wing. He shouted the password at the portrait of the woman standing near a lake. She quickly opened the door for Ron then raced from her portrait towards the Hospital Wing, calling over her shoulder that she was going for help.
A half hour later, Ron left the room with a strange look on his face. He was not upset, yet he was not happy either. He was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he did not see the two people standing a little ways down the hall.
Harry could not believe what he was seeing and immediately worried about Hermione’s reaction to the sight of a mussed Ron leaving Emaline’s private chambers. He, having no idea where Ron had gone, had been accompanying Hermione to Professor Latham’s room to ask her a question about the essay she’d assigned. Harry heard a sniffle at his elbow and turned to see Hermione’s back racing down the hallway, her book bag lying ignored at his feet.
“Just great, Ron. How much more of this do you think she can take?” Harry mumbled to himself as he picked up Hermione’s bag. He set off in search of his best friend; not knowing that the woman behind the door might need him too.
Draco was standing outside the Transfiguration room with a few other seventh year students when a sulking Ron came around the corner. “Where have you been? I had to walk with this Mudblood. I may not like you, but at least you’re a pureblood.” Draco sneered at Dean who was humorously dangling Draco’s wand a few inches from his face.
“Stuff it, Malfoy.” Ron glared at the small group. “Professor Latham is sick or something. I found her in the hall and took her to her room. Madame Pomfrey is with her right now. “
“What do you mean she’s sick? And how do you know where her private rooms are?” Justin Finch-Fletchley eyed Ron curiously. Having Muggle parents, he was one of the few seventh years who had returned to the school on his own; his parents were clueless as to what was going on in his world.
Never mind how I know. I just do.”
“What is wrong with her?” Ron jumped when he heard Hermione ask the question from behind him. She looked a little contrite and defensive at the same time.
“Madame Pomfrey isn’t sure yet. Em — er, Professor Latham was hit with a curse during her last class, and she has these horrible blisters covering her arm. They are oozing some foul-smelling stuff, and they can’t seem to make it stop. She passed out in the hallway, must be some sort of reaction to the curse. Madame Pomfrey wanted to go speak with Dilys Derwent to see if she could help but someone changed the password to the Headmaster’s office..”
Looking slightly abashed, Harry decided he better go help. “Umm, I better go take care of that. Tell Professor McGonagall where I went.” Hermione just nodded her head at Harry; she appeared to be thinking about something.
Hermione pushed past Ron and went and sat next to Susan Bones, now a friend by default since so few girls had returned. Twenty minutes later, Professor McGonagall came bustling into the room with Harry close behind. “Class, today we are going — yes, Miss Bones?”
“Is Professor Latham okay?”
“Oh, yes. She is going to be fine. Now as I was saying — yes, Mr. Finch-Fletchley?”
“What exactly was wrong with her?”
“That is none of your concern. Now-” As two other hands started to go up, Professor McGonagall gave the class a sharp look. All hands went down one by one, and she continued with her lesson plan.
After dinner, several students were seen heading towards the second floor Ron had promised to take them up to check on Professor Latham.
“Wait here so I can make sure it is okay.” Ron looked at the small group and changed his mind when Hermione gave him a stern look. “Ah, actually, Ginny why don’t you go see if she is decent? It wouldn’t be right if I walked in on her.”
Hermione pushed past him and went in through the open door with Ginny. In the bedroom, there was a frantic scramble as someone slipped under an Invisibility Cloak.
“Professor?” Hermione quietly inquired.
“In here.” Hermione went around the fireplace and into the small alcove where the bed was located. Emmaline was propped up on several pillows with her injured arm wrapped in bandages. A book was lying open in her lap. “How are you feeling?”
“Better, thank you. What can I do for you girls?”
“Well, we were concerned about you. There are a few others outside that want to come in. Is it all right?” Ginny looked around; she was sure she had heard something.
“Yes, sure, let’s go into the other room.” Emmaline slid off her bed and put on a purple dressing robe.
Hermione let the other students in and as they started to fill the small space the room expanded to allow them in. Without anyone noticing, the total number of people in the room expanded by one as another person emerged from under an Invisibility Cloak and merged into the group.
