Harry Potter and the Emerald Dragon

Title: Harry Potter and the Emerald Dragon (11/?)
Author: CPoe
Author email: [email protected]
Category: Romance, Adventure
Keywords: Harry, Emily, Hermione, Draco, Ron
Spoilers: All four books
Rating: R (to be on the safe side)
Summary: It's Harry's sixth year, and he meets a new girl that comes along with a lot of baggage. Romances are budding, confusion is all around, and the threesome's life is going to become a little hectic.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK
Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books,
Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Harry Potter and the Emerald Dragon

Chapter 11: The Truth

After the events that had transpired that morning, Harry was in need of guidance. Without much thought, he found himself walking swiftly up the main staircase of the school, heading, determined, towards the fourth floor. As he cleared the landing, he turned right and headed to the east wing where he vaguely remembered seeing a large roman statue. Sure enough, as he turned a corner, there it was.

Harry walked over to it and stood in front of it for a few moments. It was a large statue, but it didn't appear to be hiding any sort of opening in the wall behind it. Doubtfully, Harry said the password his godfather had told him.

He waited a few moments, but nothing happened. The statue simply stood there, frozen in place. "Potions!" he repeated a little louder this time, thinking that perhaps the statue hadn't heard him. Still nothing happened. "Potions! Potions! Potions, Potions, Potions!" Harry barked at the statue, but just as before, nothing happened. Harry was about to whip out his wand and throw a few curses at it, when suddenly a voice called out.

"Excuse me, sir!" came a girl's voice. Harry swung around, but no one was in the hallway. "Here sir! I'm up here!" called the voice again. Harry turned to face the statue and tilted his head back. About two feet above the statue hung a small portrait of a young girl who was frantically waving at him.

"Yes?" he asked hesitantly.

"Well," the girl said as she stopped waving and peered over the bottom of her frame at him, "I fear that you've mistaken the statue of Mark Anthony for that of Julius Caesar."

"Oh," Harry said, quickly looking back down at the statue and seeing, for the first time, the large nameplate that adorned the foot of it. In bold, golden letters the words "Mark Anthony" were clearly engraved. Silently cursing himself for not noticing the nameplate sooner, he looked back up at the small girl in the painting. "Do you know where Julius Caesar is?" he asked.

"He's up the hallway a bit," she responded with a little smile.

"Thank you," he said with a nod of his head and continued to walk down the hallway.

After two more turns, Harry was confronted with another Roman looking statue. He glanced down at its base plate and breathed a quick sigh when he read, "Julius Caesar." He took a step closer to the statue and said in a very clear voice, "Potions."

"Who are you? And who do you want to disturb?" came a gruff voice. Harry looked up and was shocked to see the statue peering down at him.

"Er...I'm Harry Potter," he stammered, "And I'm here to see Si...er...Prof. McGonagall."

"She is not here at the moment," the statue responded.

"Well, I'm here to, er, feed her new dog," Harry said, though he noticed that the statue was looking at him skeptically. "She gave me the password so that I could come up here, and I think she'd be very upset if you denied me access to her quarters," Harry then added, hoping he sounded official. I'm trying to talk my way past a statue, Harry thought to himself. Never thought I'd have to do this!

"Very well then," the statue reluctantly responded, taking a step to the side and revealing a small lever. The statue lifted the lever and the wall shimmered for a few seconds before disappearing completely, producing a large hallway in its place.

"Thank you," Harry said, quickly hurrying past the statue and down the hallway. A few moments later, he heard a loud thud behind him. When he turned back around, he saw that the opening he had just passed though was now gone, having been replaced by a seamless wall. Great! Sirius has better be in here to tell me how to get out of this bloody place!! He thought to himself, but just then, his concerns were quieted, as a large black dog jogged over to him. Harry knelt down and stroked his fur, whispering, "Hi, Sirius" under his breath. The dog appeared to nod his head to the left, and Harry followed after him.

They soon came to a door labeled "Minerva," and Sirius slipped into the room through the door that stood slightly ajar. As soon as Harry stepped inside, he closed the door, and Sirius immediately took his human form.

"Took you long enough to come see me. I thought you'd come last night," he said walking out of the foyer. All the years Harry had spent at Hogwarts, he had paid little thought to how and where the professors lived during the year. Once or twice he had heard Hermione refer to the staff quarters, but he never had an idea about what they were like.

As he walked though McGonagall's spacious flat, he was instantly rendered speechless. Even Harry, who had grown up with his Muggle family that valued machine-made furniture to hand built classics, could tell that her apartment was impeccably decorated. Her dining room was painted an unobtrusive shade of yellow, which perfectly matched the dark hues of the wooden china closet and large table. There were tasteful paintings and wizard photos lining the one wall and a large window overlooking the road to Hogsmeade. Her kitchen was also something of a sight, complete with a pot rack hanging from the ceiling and at least 15 different types of pots and pans - her entire kitchen seemed to contain every gadget a gourmet cook could ever want.

Harry followed Sirius into a back room, which was obviously a guest room. It had a large wardrobe, a full bed, a bed stand and lamp, a desk and an attached bathroom. Sirius motioned for Harry to take a seat on the bed, while Sirius sat in the desk chair and swung it around so he was sitting just opposite from his godson.

"Nice place," Harry said, looking around the room. "Do all the professors live in flats like this?"

"All except Hagrid," Sirius answered. "When I was still in school, the four of us came across the staff quarters while we were making the map. Took us forever to figure out the password and get past that damn statue!" he said with a slight scowl.

"Yeah, you could have warned me about him," Harry said, though he smiled at his Godfather, teasing.

"Well, enough about old Caesar," Sirius said, leaning forward towards Harry. "Tell me about Emily. I assume that's why you've come to see me," Sirius said, raising his left eyebrow.

"Well, yes and no," Harry responded. "The truth is, I didn't consciously come up here to see you, and I just sort of found my feet moving in this direction."

"I'm not going to take offence to that, though I should," Sirius began, the edges of his lips turning up ever so slightly into a smile, "Instead, I'm going to take that as meaning you're highly conflicted and in need of some guidance. Which is precisely what I'm here for, so shoot."

"Well, it's sort of a long story," Harry began, not quite sure how much of it he really wanted to tell Sirius. Part of him was aching to tell him everything, right down to the last detail. And the other part of him feared his reaction to hearing everything, especially the part about Emily being the Emerald Dragon.

"So give me the abridged version," Sirius said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest, patiently waiting for Harry to begin his tale. Harry thought for a moment, trying to organize in his head how to condense his entire relationship with Emily into a two or three sentence summary.

"We both got detention together the first week she was here," Harry began, aware that Sirius gave him a disapproving look at the word detention. He decided to ignore it and pushed on. "And we sort of became friends after that, well, a little more then friends actually. She was different then all the other witches I'd ever met and I was instantly...well...attracted to her."

"Happens to the best of us," Sirius commented. "Continue."

"Well, I started noticing that she can do stuff. Things that I didn't know witches could do. Like doing magic without her wand," Harry said, pausing there and waiting for his godfather's reaction.

"She can do what?" he asked, looking at Harry as if he was talking mermish.

"Wandless magic," Harry repeated. "She didn't know why, at least, she didn't seem to know why at the time. She just said it was something she could do. I thought it was some neat thing that made her unique, and I didn't think much of it really. That is, until we made Luminas potion in class one day." Harry paused again, looking intently at his godfather, "Do you know what Luminas potion is?" he asked.

"It's been a while, but if I remember correctly, it makes a person glow relative to their magical ability."

"Yeah, well, when she drank the potion, it was like staring at the sun. Everyone had to turn away from her she was so bright. She was really ruffled by it, kept saying that things were happening to her that she didn't understand. Anyway, a few weeks passed and we went into Hogsmeade for one of the school weekends. While we were at the Three Broomsticks, her dad showed up and she had to go off and meet with him."

"Wormtail?"

"I guess so. She called him her dad, but we couldn't see his face because his hood was pulled up. But after meeting him, when she came back, she was different."

"Different how?"

"Well, she stopped talking to me. Flat out refused to have anything to do with me and became a real bitch." Harry snapped up his head to see if his godfather was going to say something about his swearing, but Sirius seemed to have not even noticed. "It was so unlike the Emily I had originally met. And she'd been hanging out with Malfoy all the time. And then she rigged the Quidditch game - "

"She rigged the Quidditch game?"

"Yeah, well, she was controlling the balls."

"Harry, people can't just 'control the balls', not even with a wand can someone do that."

"Well, she was doing it without a problem," Harry said, nodding his head. "Believe me! And then, she all but told me I was a loser that she never wanted to see or talk to again," Harry said, looking down at his hands and reliving how horribly he had felt.

"Well, I can certainly see why you were so upset the other night - "

"But Sirius, that's not even the worse part of it," Harry said, though as soon as he said it, he began to think about if he really was ready to tell Sirius about her being the Emerald Dragon. But then, he realized he had to tell him. "Sirius, if I tell you something, do you promise not to tell Dumbledore?" Harry asked.

"Harry, I can't promise --"

"I can't tell you unless you promise to wait until I'm ready to tell him," Harry interrupted.

"If I think you're in danger Harry, I can't just sit around --"

"You have to promise that everything I say from now on, no matter how dangerous you think it is, will be kept confidential, especially from Dumbledore!" Harry insisted.

"Harry --"

"You have to promise, or else I leave right now." Sirius considered Harry for a moment and then nodded his head. "Is that a yes?"

"Yes, I promise." Harry breathed a sigh of relief, realizing how desperately he wanted to tell Sirius the truth, and the thought of him not agreeing to the terms and having to walk out had worried him.

"Emily is the Emerald Dragon," Harry said, deciding not to avoid the issue.

"What?" Sirius asked, leaning forward in his chair and peering at Harry with darkened eyes. "What?" he repeated, more urgently this time.

"She's the Emerald Dragon," Harry repeated slowly, making sure to enunciate everything very clearly for Sirius. This, of course, didn't alter the extremely confused look on Sirius' face.

"What...um...when did you...how did...why didn't..." Sirius paused to scratch his head; apparently he had too many questions floating around in it.

"I've known for a few weeks now. Draco slipped me a page from an ancient text. I showed it to Hermione, and she solved the rest of the puzzle from there."

"Why haven't you told Dumbledore?" Sirius managed to say between gasps.

"Because I didn't believe it at first. I mean, deep down I knew it was true; it was the only explanation for why she could do all these things. But, I just didn't want to, or couldn't, believe that she was working for Voldemort all that time. And it wasn't until today that I really figured everything out, or, at least I think I have."

"Figured what out?"

"Well, this is really why I came to see you today, I think. Yesterday, I got a note that I thought was from Emily asking me to meet her out on by the Whomping Willow. But when I got there, she was shocked to see me, and when I showed her the note, she told me to run. She ended up saving my life," Harry said.

"But, if she's the Emerald Dragon, why would she save your life?"

"Well, I was confused by that too, especially after how strangely she's been acting. Ginny, that's Ron's sister, she came up with the idea that maybe she's just playing along, that she doesn't really want to work for Voldemort but doesn't have a choice. And then, when I really started thinking about it today, I realized that that made a lot of sense. I don't think she even knew that she was the Emerald Dragon when we first met, and I think it scared her when she found out. And now, well, now I don't know what to do!" Harry said, throwing himself back onto Sirius' bed. "Do I continue hating her, tell Dumbledore she's the enemy, fight her or something like that, which I'll surely lose since I've seen her in action. And she's a tad bit on the intimidating side, if you catch my drift."

"Or?"

"Or," Harry said, sitting back up again to face Sirius, "I could go and talk to her, see what she's really thinking. Of course, if I'm wrong, she'll probably just squash me like a small toad with some sort of death beam emanating from her fingertips." Harry paused here, considering his options, "You know, both ideas seem rather bleak."

"So, what are you going to do?" Sirius asked, sitting back in his chair.

"What?" Harry asked, astonished by his reaction.

"I think this is your decision."

"But, you're supposed to...I don't know...guide me or something! I'm only sixteen, I can't be expected to make this big a decision on my own!"

"What do you think you should do?"

"I don't know! That's why I'm here!"

"Harry, I'm not going to tell you what I think you should do because you'll just resent me for it. I think you have brains enough to decide on your own."

"Well, I just...I want to talk to her."

"So talk to her."

"But, I don't know what to say and I don't even know if I'm right about all this. What if she just laughs in my face?"

"Do you think she'd do that?"

"Well, the way she's been acting lately, who knows what she'd do!" Harry replied, "The old Emily I knew wouldn't. Well, maybe she'd laugh a little, but in a cute, friendly way."

"And what if that was the fake Emily?"

"What?"

"The real issue here is whether or not you can handle discovering if the new Emily is the real Emily. I doubt she'd kill you on the spot - if that was her plan then she would have done it already, she's had ample opportunity."

"Thanks for pointing that out," Harry said, feeling extremely vulnerable. "But, I think I'd be relieved, to finally find out. Either way."

"Well, seems like you've made your decision then."

"So, you think I should talk to her?" he said in a small, quiet voice.

"Harry, if that's what you want to do, then that's what you should do."

"You aren't helping, you do realize that," Harry muttered, getting up from the bed and pacing back and forth in front of his godfather. For some reason, things always seemed clearer when he was on his feet. "What will I say?"

"Why don't you try, 'Hi, my name's Harry, can we start over?'"

"Sirius, I'm serious!" Harry shouted, but then had to pause and chuckle to himself at the sound of the phrase. Sirius I'm serious! Sirius I'm serious...

"As if I haven't heard that one before!" Sirius said, rolling his eyes, "But you can't sit here and plan out your entire conversation with her. You just have to get her alone and talk. The words will come when they come."

"But she refuses to talk to me, I tried that once after that horrible Quidditch game. Granted, I wasn't feeling very sociable at the time, but she wouldn't have anything to do with me."

"Then trick her into it, catch her off guard."

"How?"

"I don't know, find a way."

"Again, you're not helping."

"Harry, you'll find a way," Sirius said, reaching out his arm and stopping Harry mid-stride. "You'll wear a hole in the floor if you keep doing that," he said.

"This is just so confusing. Usually, it's just Voldemort and me. Now, he's throwing all kinds of other factors in."

"You're a tough kid, Harry," Sirius said, giving Harry a pat on the arm. "You'll get through this, just like you've gotten through all the other things you shouldn't have been able to get through," Sirius said with a wink. Harry smiled back, grateful that his godfather was here. He found it somewhat pleasant, almost like having a parent.

"I really should get going," Harry said, still standing where his godfather had stopped him and looking down at him. "Do you really think this is a good idea?"

"It's what I'd do," Sirius said with a grin and another wink. "Let me know how it goes?"

"Yeah," Harry responded. "But don't forget what you promised."

"Don't worry, I won't tell the headmaster."

"Thanks," Harry said, and then considered his godfather for a moment. "For everything."

"Hey, what are godfathers for?"

* * * * *

Emily sat at the Slytherin table, picking at her scrambled eggs and daydreaming about New York bagels. The care package that Elizabeth had sent her earlier in the week made her realize how much she missed home, how much she missed her mom, how much she missed herself. She was beginning to think of her time at Hogwarts as the nightmare that never ended, but instead just kept getting worse and worse. It was a never-ending downhill slide.

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the flapping of wings as the post owls made their ways into the hall. Two of them immediately accosted her, shortly followed by a third. She untied the parchments from the three birds, giving them each a little bite of her eggs before sending them off again. Once they were gone, she looked down and saw three envelops neatly piled before her.

She was about to flip through her mail, when another envelope was suddenly shoved under her nose. Emily looked up, and saw Pansy standing there. Without a word, she took the letter from her, and Pansy immediately walked away. She looked down at the envelope, which was completely blank on the outside save her initials E.W. She looked around, making sure no one was looking at her, and slipped it into her messenger bag.

She then turned back to the three letters that sat before her. One was obviously from her mother, she could tell by the scribbled handwriting that spelled out her name on the front of the envelope. Another was from Elizabeth, who always doodled pictures of exotic landscapes with scantly clad men walking about on the outsides of her letters. The third was a simple sheet of parchment folded in half with her name scrawled on it. She recognized it immediately; it was the third time he'd written to her in as many days. She unfolded the parchment and read its contents:

Dear Emily,

Two seconds, that's all I ask.

-Harry

"That's the third one in a row!" came Draco's voice from behind her back. Emily looked up and saw that he was standing right behind her, and had apparently read her letter. Shit! He's always watching me!

"Yeah, he must be dense or something," she responded, rolling her eyes a bit as if disgusted. She then turned away from Draco and looked over to the Gryffindor table. She scanned the length of it, until her eyes finally fell on him. He was looking up at her, through his black-rimmed glasses and she could tell, even at this distance, that he was watching for her reaction to his letter. This is for your own good! she thought, careful to control herself so that she wouldn't project it to him. She then held up his letter and ripped it in half. And then quarters. And then eighths. Until all that was left were little pieces of ripped parchment that she let sprinkle from her hands and fall down onto her plate. She sat there, staring at him from across the room, until finally he broke their gaze and turned back to his friends at his table.

* * * * *

Hermione sat comfortably in one of the many armchairs that were placed in a circle around the cozy little room where they held prefects' meetings. Beside her sat Dean, who was, as usual, not paying attention to the discussion. He was busy knotting the loose threads hanging from the hem of his Hogwarts robes. She never did understand why Ron or Harry hadn't been chosen to be prefects along with her. As she pondered the idea, she could understand why Ron hadn't been chosen. He rarely took a leading role in anything, was just barely able to pass his classes, and was constantly getting in trouble. She was, of course, somehow involved in whatever trouble he was getting into, but at least she had a superior academic record to make her a good candidate. Furthermore, she had never formally gotten in trouble, except, perhaps, for that incident first year with Norbert.

"All those in favor?" came the voice of Cho, the Head Girl, from across the room. Hermione hadn't really been paying all that much attention to the proceedings today, so she looked round the room and saw that most of the other prefects had their hands raised, so she raised hers too. "All those opposed?" A few hands went up, but they were in the definite minority. "Very well, with that decided, we can move on to the next topic. There is a proposition to hold a student ball at Hogwarts before winter dismissal. Hannah, you were assigned to research that during our last meeting, what did you come up with?"

Hermione turned her gaze to the girl sitting a few seats over from her, just as Hannah Abbot began to speak. "I asked around and most of the students said they were up for it. Professor McGonagall said that if we wanted to organize it, she didn't see anything standing in our way. She did however mention that there had to be a staff advisor to oversee it. And also made it quite clear she was not interested in the position."

"Anyone have any suggestions for an appropriate staff advisor?" Cho asked. Mandy Brocklehurst, a Ravenclaw, raised her hand. "Mandy."

"How about Professor Sinistra?" She suggested. "I could ask if you'd like."

"Anyone opposed to Professor Sinistra?" Cho asked. No hands raised in dissention. "Mandy, can you ask her before our next meeting?" Mandy nodded. "Very well, if Sinistra says yes, I'll put together a planning committee and assign everyone to different duties. Does anyone have any suggestions for a theme for the ball?"
Ernie and Hannah both raised their hands. "Ernie."

"How about an underwater theme," he said excitedly. Everyone seemed to shrug and make faces.

"Hmm... maybe...how about you Hannah?"

"I was thinking something along the lines of Muggles," she said, looking around the room to gauge the reactions. There was a mixture, most of which seemed positive. "Everyone would have to come dressed in Muggle clothes and we could have Muggle decorations. It could be fun." Hermione saw that Justin Finch-Fletchley had raised his hand too. Cho nodded towards him.

"My uncle is an executive with a Muggle record company. I could see if I could get a good mix of Muggle music to play. And, we have my CD player. It would save money trying to get a band, and I doubt we'd be allowed to have a Muggle group come anyway."

"Oh, and Colin has a Muggle camera. I think he brought a Polaroid, too, this year," Hermione piped in, aware that she hadn't been called upon by Cho.

"Polaroid?" Hermione heard someone ask.

"It takes Muggle pictures that develop instantly." She paused, thinking about whether she really wanted to say it or not, "Like magic." There was a muffled wave of laughter that swept through the room.

"Okay, let's vote on it. All those in favor of a Muggle-themed winter ball raise your hands." Practically everyone raised a hand into the air. "All those opposed?" Hermione looked around the room and saw that only Malfoy and another Slytherin prefect had voted against it. "Very well then, Muggle-themed ball it is." Cho looked back down at her clipboard. "That's all on the list today. I'll see you on Friday."

All the other prefects rose from their seats and began to make their way out of the room. Hermione watched as the last ones left before going over to Cho.

"Hey," Hermione said, coming up behind her.

"Oh," Cho said, swinging around. "You scared me, I thought everyone had left!" She let out a deep breath and then smiled at her. "What's up?"

"Oh, nothing," Hermione lied. She didn't really know how she was going to ask this. She didn't really want to ask this. But she'd promised Harry. "I was just wondering if you'd talked to Emily lately."

"The new girl?" Cho asked, leaning back against the wooden table behind her and hoisting herself onto it, such that her legs hung swinging back and forth from it. Hermione nodded. "She's in my Herbology class, so we sometimes chat, but other than that, she sort of keeps to herself lately. It's a shame really, she seemed pretty cool." Cho then looked at Hermione suspiciously, "Why do you ask?"

"Oh, it's just that, she borrowed a book from me a few weeks ago about, uh, British Wizarding culture...you know, since she's from America and all. And she never returned it. And I've been trying to get it back from her because I need it. But, you know, after she and Harry stopped talking to each other --"

"You know, I heard about that," she cut in, shaking her head, "They seemed like they were getting along so well." Figures Harry's social life would be common knowledge around the school! Hermione thought to herself.

"I just feel weird approaching her now and she doesn't want to have anything to do with me because she associates me with Harry."

"Wow, they must have had a really bad break up!" Cho interrupted again, her eyes widening. "I had no idea!"

"I was wondering if you could do me a really big favor."

"Sure, but I don't see how I can help you get your book back."

"Well, I know that she carries it around with her because I've seen it in her bag a few times," Hermione lied. "So, I'd essentially just have to get into a room alone with her to ask for it back. And, I was wondering if perhaps you'd help me out by asking her to meet you somewhere, but she'd really be meeting me."

"All of this just for a book!" Cho said. "How you weren't sorted into Ravenclaw, I will never know!"

"Well, it's special to me. I...uh...it was the first wizard book I ever bought," she lied, again.

"If it's that important to you, I guess I wouldn't mind telling her a little fib to get her to meet with you."

"Really?" Hermione asked, shocked. She hadn't actually thought Cho would agree. In fact, she had begun this conversation almost completely sure she wouldn't even consider it.

"Well, sure. I mean, no harm done really. And, she's been hanging out with Draco lately and anything to get Draco pissed off is worth it," Cho said with a wink.

"You don't like him either?"

"He's so annoying to play against in Quidditch!" Cho said, rolling her eyes. "He's like an annoying fly that won't stop following you around the pitch."

"Well, thanks then. Can you see if she'll meet tomorrow after dinner, in the room at the back of the library? I'll be there anyway, so you don't have to find me to let me know if she said yes or not."

"Sounds good. Good luck!"

"Good luck?"

"Yeah, with getting your book back," Cho said with a sideways glance as she jumped off the table and grabbed her bag.

"Oh, yeah. The book."

* * * *

It was midmorning and the sun was shining in through the greenhouses with gusto. Emily sat at her table, using her arm to block the penetrating beams of light. Professor Spout stood at the front of the class giving tips on how to successfully germinate, and then care for, Devil's Snare. Emily found it a most unappealing plant, but nonetheless paid attention to Spout as she bopped around her little display table clipping here and there along the large plant she had on her desk.

"Now, before each group comes up to get their sample, please remember that these plants are unable to survive direct light from the sun. If your table is in one of the many spots that the sun leaks through to, I suggest you take measures to shade your work space before coming up to collect your samples."

Emily looked around the room and saw several students begin to drape their cloaks around their desks in an attempt to block out the sun. They were creating elaborate lean-to like contraptions that looked as though they'd collapse with the slightest breath of air.

"I don't believe we have to do this," she heard Draco complain, and turned around just in time to see him start to strip off his black robes. She saw that Millicent and Vinny were doing the same. She started to unbutton her robe as well, sliding it off her shoulders. But, just as the fabric hit her elbows, she stopped dead in her spot.

"Stop, what are you doing?" Emily asked, quickly shrugging her robes back on. She had to think of another way to do this.

"Blocking the light," Millicent said as she shrugged the last bit of fabric off her shoulder and brought it around in front of her. "You heard Sprout."

"Yeah but, put your robes back on," Emily said, looking up at the roof of the greenhouse. She instantly saw that all the light that was shining on their table was coming from two panes of glass high up in the greenhouse ceiling. She raised her right hand up and pointed it at the pane, but then quickly dropped it, giving the other students at the table a sheepish smile as she remembered to dig through her bag and retrieve her wand. She then pointed it up at the ceiling and said "Obscuro". Instantly, the two sun-filled panes changed from transparent clear to opaque black. She looked back down at their workstation, and saw that there were no longer any direct rays of sunlight reaching it. "There we go, and we didn't even have to strip!"

"What a pity," Draco responded somewhat sarcastically, shrugging his robes back up over his shoulders and looking at the other tables. "You just had to go and spoil our fun." Emily quickly shifted towards him, making sure the rest of her table were dutifully distracted with getting prepared for the devil's snare seedling.

"I'm wearing a three-quarter sleeved shirt," she whispered to him, "I didn't have a choice."

"What does that have to do with...oooh!" Draco said, looking down at her forearm. "Good save."

"Tell me about it," she responded, just as Millicent returned with their Devil's Snare seedling.

The four of them worked quickly, having sufficient room to approach and trim their seedling. The other teams, drastically hindered by the shadowing robes that surrounded them, were faring much worse.

"Very nice," Sprout said after they had called her over to inspect their work. "Very well done. I suspect this seedling will grow to be quite a menacing plant." She picked up the large pot that they had replanted it into, and began to walk towards the storage shed. After she deposited the plant on its shelf, she came back over to their table and asked very politely if they would mind going around and helping some of the other teams.

"Can you believe she asked us to help teach her class?" Draco said with disgust. Emily simply shrugged her shoulders and walked over to the table nearest to hers.

"Need any help?" she asked, leaning into the makeshift canopy of black Hogwarts robes.

"Nope, we're just finishing up," Cho responded, emerging out of the tent, closely followed by a red headed boy carrying the seedling. Cho pointed him in the right direction and then proceeded to collapse their tent. "Uhg, it was hot in there!" Cho said, retrieving her robes and draping them over her arm.

"It will feel nice once we have to go back outside," Emily responded, starting to walk back over to her desk.

"Wait," she heard Cho call from behind her. Emily turned around again, and watched as Cho hesitated for a moment, her eyes darting around the room. She then focused them back on Emily and finally spoke, "Sprout said that you've been doing really well in class, and, well, I've been slipping a little and was wondering if you could help me out. Just one time should do the trick in getting me back up to speed."

"Oh sure, no problem," Emily agreed. "When do you want to meet?"

"How about today after dinner, in the room at the back of the Library?"

"I think I'm free. Do you need me to bring anything?"

"Nope. Or, uh, bring you bag."

"My bag?" Emily asked, thinking this sounded a tad bit strange.

"Yeah. Oh! Look, Sprout wants us to sit down, see you later!" Cho called, going back to her table and taking a seat. Emily returned to her seat, but couldn't get their conversation out of her head. Since when does Cho need help in Herbology? She's one of the best students in the class! And then, it hit her. She was coming onto me! But, Emily had to stop herself from that train of thought. She didn't really know that Cho went that way. But there was a pretty easy way to find out. Emily turned her head to Cho and concentrated hard, quickly tapping into her thoughts: that was certainly easier then I thought it would be. Hermione should be pleased. I still don't understand why Hermione couldn't just ask herself. Oh well, I hope she manages to get her book back. Emily quickly took her mind out of Cho's thoughts and gave her head a quick shake. That was certainly not what she had expected. It didn't make sense, Why would Hermione ask Cho to ask me...unless ...HARRY!!!

* * * *

Harry hadn't even bothered to go up to the Great Hall for dinner. He was too nervous to eat. The night before, he had waited in the common room for Hermione to return from her prefects' meeting with the good news. He had also managed to talk her out of feeling the need to play bodyguard, claiming Emily couldn't do anything to him in a library.

The truth was that he couldn't even believe that his plan had gone as far as it had. Just getting Cho to agree had been one of the biggest bumps in it, and that was already taken care of.

Feeling extremely antsy, Harry glanced down at his watch and saw that it was nearly five o'clock. Eager to do something productive, Harry meandered through the hallways, and finally ended up in the room at the back of the library. It was a small room, and Harry placed his bag on the table and then took a seat to wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Harry sat in the dimly lit room for what felt like ages. He glanced down at his watch every few minutes, checking to see how much time had gone past. It was nearly seven, and dinner had stopped being served half an hour before. He knew that Emily usually ate early, and that the likelihood that she was still eating was slim. She wasn't going to show. He was sure of it.

He walked over to the door and went out to do a quick sweep of the library, thinking that perhaps she had mistaken the meeting place and was straggling around somewhere. He walked past the rows of cubicles that lined the windows, then went to the group study area tucked away in the back. He didn't see her. He made one last sweep past the long tables for quiet study that stood in the center of the library and then headed back to the room to get his stuff, cursing himself for thinking his stupid plan would work.

He pushed open the door that lead to the small room and nearly gasped at what he saw before him. Standing in the center of the room and examining his bag that he had left on the table, was Emily.

He closed the door behind him, and at the sound of the door meeting its frame, Emily swung around. Her face was expressionless and the two of them stood there for a few moments: Harry leaning back against the closed door, Emily idly trailing her hands over his rucksack. Their gazes were uninterrupted, not even by a blink.

"I didn't think you were coming," Harry said, finally breaking the silence and taking a few steps into the room.

"I wasn't going to," she responded, watching him move closer to her. She looked very different then he had remembered. It wasn't just the change in hairstyle, though it did change her physical appearance quite a lot. She was lacking something; something he had always wondered about. That air of confidence she used to have was gone. Instead, she looked cold, almost as if she were dead inside. "I knew the whole Cho thing was a cover."

Harry momentarily stopped in his tracks, how could she have known? Did Cho tell her? But she couldn't have told, she didn't know. Unless Hermione told Cho...

"Cho didn't say anything," Emily suddenly responded. He looked up at her in surprise. "It's another one of my lovely talents," she said with mock pride. She leaned forward a little and dropped her voice to an ice-cold whisper. "I can hear what you're thinking."

"Could you always hear what I was thinking?" Harry asked, a tad bit alarmed, thinking back to all the times they had been together. She smiled at him, but it was nothing compared to the way she used to smile.

"No," she responded, leaning back against the table his bag was on and pushing herself up onto it. "I didn't figure it out until a few weeks ago, with a little help from Hermione actually."

"You mean that morning in the entrance hall?" Harry asked, thinking back to the strange conversation he had witnessed.

"Yup," she responded, looking down at her feet. Harry watched as she tucked her left foot behind her ankle.

"Why did you come? " he asked, taking a few steps closer to her and leaning up against the table next to her. "What made you change your mind and decide to meet with me?"

"I realized you wouldn't stop bugging me until I did," she responded, looking up from her feet and over at Harry with a half smile. "And because I'm extremely stupid."

"Stupid?" Harry asked, unable to hide his disappointment.

"I don't think you realize how much shit I'd be in if they knew I was here right now," she responded.

"Who's 'they'?"

"Draco, my father, Lucius, Avery, the Dark Lord. Take your pick."

"But they're all --"

"Death Eaters?" Emily interrupted. "Well, technically the Dark Lord isn't a Death Eater per se. He's more the Death Eater, if you catch my drift. More our master than an actual member."

"Our master?" Harry gasped, unwilling to grasp what this implied. Emily turned her attention away from him, looking back down at her shoes.

"I'm a Death Eater, Harry," she said in a whisper, reaching over to her left arm and pulling up the sleeve of her robes. "I was initiated two weekends ago."

Harry leaned over and saw the Dark Mark clearly emblazoned on her arm. He reached out to touch it, and as his finger came into contact with her flesh, he quickly withdrew.

"What happened?" Emily asked, watching Harry as he clapped his hands to his forehead. His scar had suddenly seared with pain.

"My scar," he mumbled through clenched teeth, taking deep breaths as the pain slowly drained away. "It hurts when I'm around Voldemort, or when he does something particularly powerful. And, apparently, when I touch his Mark."

"I'm so sorry," she said, placing her hands over her mouth and peering at Harry with a worried look on her face.

"It's not your fault," he said, removing his hands from his forehead. Emily was still watching him intently. "The pain's almost gone, don't worry about it," he continued, squeezing his eyes shut as the pain finally ebbed away. He opened his eyes and looked at Emily, trying as best as he could to find the old Emily--the one he had originally met those few weeks ago in detention; the one he quite possibly had fallen completely in love with.

"Don't look at me like that," Emily said turning her head away from him.

"Why? Is it freaky?" Harry asked, thinking of all the times she had told him that whenever she caught him staring at her.

"Yeah."

"Was all of that...before...was it...were you...." Harry couldn't quite find the words to say what he wanted to say.

"Harry, I didn't come here for an emotional reunion," she suddenly said, turning her head to look at him again, her face completely expressionless, and her tone suddenly mechanical. "I came to warn you."

"To warn me?" Harry asked, a little jarred by this sudden change in pace.

"Look," she said, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a carefully folded sheet of parchment. She started to hand it over to him, but then stopped, drawing the letter back against her chest. "It's from the Dark Lord," she said, as if warning him. He nodded. "If you touch it will your scar start to hurt again?" She then asked.

"Er..." Harry stammered. Would it? I've never really touched anything that Voldemort had before; at least I don't think I have.

"Then maybe I should read it to you," she said. Damn! She's reading my thoughts. He then turned his head up to look at her. I hate that you can read my thoughts!

I know. Her voice echoed through his head.

"Holy shit!" Harry said out loud. "You can talk in my head too?"

Yup.

"Well, stop it!" Harry snapped, knowing that he was being a tad bit irrational. It was just so strange to hear someone else's voice in his head, and so violating. "And please stop reading my thoughts too," he then added a little more calmly.

"Sorry," said Emily with a shrug and a look that made Harry feel that she wasn't even the slightest bit remorseful. "Anyway, do you want me to read it or not?" she asked, a little irritation in her voice.

"No, I think I'll take my chances and read it myself."

"Suit yourself," she remarked, handing the paper over to him. He took it gingerly and breathed a sigh of relief when he didn't feel the pain resurge in his forehead. He carefully unfolded the letter and began to read.

I was informed of the incident that occurred the other morning, and I send my apologies for the dim-wittedness of those that planned it. They have assured me that they were only acting to test your loyalty. I have let them know they are not to be suspicious any longer. You handled the incident well, despite the unfortunate escape of the boy.

Harry looked up from the parchment and over at Emily.

"They don't trust you?" he asked.

"Should they?" she responded sarcastically. "I mean, I'm really quite shocked they believed the little story I gave them," she then nodded down at the parchment. "Keep reading, though." Harry returned to the letter.

As I said in my earlier letter to you, I will be keeping you informed concerning the planning for the young boy's demise. The plan will be set in action the first week of your holidays. We have obtained information that the boy intends to stay at school during this time, and feel this is the perfect opportunity.

You will not be involved in the actual abduction. I have decided to leave that job to others in my service. Your father has informed me that you will be spending the holiday at school as well, much to my disappointment. You will therefore be summoned to me when I require your presence.

Harry turned the letter over and was surprised to see the other side was blank. "Is that it?" he asked.

"Yup," she responded. "Not one for idle conversation, is he?"

"And this is from...him?" Harry asked, though he knew it was.

"No, it's from my mom," Emily answered, her face completely deadpan.

"Do you mind if I ask why you're showing this to me?" Harry ventured, though he was vaguely scared of the response he might get. She was looking rather irritated at the moment and he was hoping that he hadn't pushed it too far. She seemed to consider him for a second, before responding in a quiet, measured tone.

"I realized something the other day when you showed up with that fake letter," she began, moving around uncomfortably on the tabletop, as if settling herself physically so she could think clearer. "See, up until that point, I was just sort of floating through the motions. I knew that I really didn't have a choice in the matter and that resisting wasn't going to do very much good...well...I resisted a little...but, all in all, I played the part that I thought I had to play. I dropped you, became friends with Draco, got initiated. All the while I had convinced myself that I could do this. That living like this just took some getting used to, but that eventually I'd get over the initial shock." She paused here for a few moments, taking deep breaths before continuing.

"I was constantly telling myself that I hated you. And I was treating you like shit because I thought it would make me hate you because I really wanted to hate you. Like, really, I did!" she said, nodding her head quickly. "I thought that if I hated you it would all be easier. You know, after the Dark Lord made me do whatever it is he wants me to do to you, I'd be able to go on with my life because, after all, you were just some asshole guy I used to date."

"You hated me?" Harry asked, trying to grasp everything she was saying.

"Well, that was the idea behind it all. The eventual goal of my twisted plan. Except, it all sort of went to shit the other day by the Whomping willow."

"Why?"

"Because I realized I couldn't hurt you. The first thing that popped into my mind when I understood what was going on was that I had to save you," she said, taking her eyes off her hands that she had in her lap and looking up at Harry. Her eyes looked glossy, as if she was about to cry. "And, I managed to convince my dad and Lucius and Avery, and even Draco, that I was acting in self defense and that I was trying to hurt you by sending you flying off like that." She turned away from him again. "But I couldn't convince myself," she said with a short, ironic sounding laugh.

"Why did you refuse to talk to me after that?"

"Because I couldn't. Not with Draco on me like he is. He really never goes away, you know. Whenever I turn around, there he is!"

"So tell him to leave you alone!" Harry responded, looking at her intently, "You have a choice in all of this Emily, you always have a choice."

"No I --"

"Yes, you do!" he interrupted, trying in urgency to make her see that she did.

"No, I don't," she hissed back in reply. "Harry, even if I refuse, he can still control me. No matter what, he's going to make me do it. I don't have a choice!"

"There are ways to fight Imperius! Surely with all your power --"

"It isn't Imperius," she responded.

"Then what do you mean, control you?"

"He's the one that gave me my powers," she said, glancing up at him, her tears beginning to trail down her face, "You do know what I am Harry, don't you?"

"You mean the Emerald Dragon bit?"

"Yeah, well, 'he who creates it can control it'" she began, wiping tears from her face with the sleeve of her robe. "I can stand right in front of you and refuse to lay a finger on you, but it all won't matter in the end. Because he'll just make me do it. Physically make me!"

"Oh," Harry said, taking in exactly what that meant.

"I wasn't going to come today because I didn't think there was anything I could do to help you. And up until the point that I saw you walk into this room, I was still desperately trying to hate you," she said with an uncomfortable laugh. "But after I read that letter a few...hundred...times, I realized that the least I could do was warn you. And tell you to get the hell out of here for the holidays. Go to Hermione's or Ron's or back to that Muggle family you live with. And go talk to Dumbledore, and tell him I'm the Emerald Dragon because I know you haven't told him yet. I'm fairly sure of it," she said, nodding her head and fidgeting with her hair nervously, letting the tears stream down her face uncontrollably. "Maybe he'll kick me out!"

"Calm down," Harry said, putting his arm around her shoulder, sliding his hand up and down her arm to comfort her. "Emily, we'll figure this all out." He could feel her body relax next to him, moving up and down with each sob. She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. It felt so strange to hold her again, to feel her body against his. He continued to stroke her arm, and then her back. It was all such a mess, and a hundred times worse then he thought it was. In a little over three weeks, it was all going to start. Three weeks!

Harry sat there and allowed Emily to cry. His mind was racing over the prospect that he might only have three more weeks to live. And then there was Emily. What was he going to do about her? He had no clue she was so intrinsically involved. He cursed himself for this, realizing he should have known as soon as he found out she was the Emerald Dragon. Hermione knew it. Hermione knew exactly how dangerous she was. And yet, watching her sob on his shoulder at the moment, he instantly knew why he hadn't seen it before. She's not the Emerald Dragon. It's what she is, but not who she is. She's Emily. And these past few weeks have been even harder for her then they had been for him.

She then lifted her head up quickly and started to hastily wipe away the tears from her face. She sniffled a few times, finally quieting herself down. After running her hands through her hair a few times and taking a few deep breaths, she looked down at her watch.

"Oh shit!" she said, hurriedly jumping off the table. "I have to get out of here!"

"What!?" Harry asked.

"Harry, they'll suspect something. I've been here way too long," she explained. "Give me back the letter," she added, reaching out her hand. He didn't move.

"But --"

"Harry, I have to go!" she interrupted urgently.

"Right now?"

"Yes right now!" she said, flicking her palm forward and summoning the letter out of his hand and into hers. She turned around and hurried to the door. "Do I look like I've been crying?" she asked, tossing her hair a little bit and standing up straight with her chin held high.

"Well, your eyes are still a little red," he observed without thinking. "But other than that, you're fine."

"Okay, good. I'll just say I smoked too many cigs." She then turned to exit the room, but then paused and turned back around again. "Thanks, Harry."

"For what?"

"For not hating me," she said. "And for keeping your promise to always believe in me."

"Look, we'll figure something out."

"I hope so," she responded, and then the look on her face changed. "Does the whole telepathy thing totally freak you out? I mean, would you totally lose it if I talked to you like that sometimes?" she asked.

"Er, well...I guess not," he said, but then added, "Just don't go reading my mind without telling me."

"Done," she said with a nod of her head. "I still have to pretend like I hate you though. So they don't get suspicious."

"Yeah, I know."

"Ok, well, I really have to get going then," she said, but Harry noticed that she didn't move.

"Yeah, you should," he said back.

"Have a nice evening then I guess."

"Yeah. You too."

"Bye."

"Bye."

They both stood there for a moment, before Emily suddenly pushed the door open and finally made her exit.

* * * *

"Where have you been?" Draco asked as soon as Emily walked into the common room. He had been waiting for her for over an hour and was beginning to worry. She'd been acting strangely all week and he couldn't figure out what was up with her.

"I had some stuff to do," she responded, pausing in the middle of the common room.

"Stuff?"

"Look Draco, I don't recall asking you to keep tabs on me, alright?" Okay, she's not in a good mood, he though to himself.

"I was just curious, no need to yell."

"Yeah, well, you're always curious," she said, turning around and starting to walk over to the staircases.

"Emily," Draco called, getting out of his seat. She stopped in her tracks. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"I can tell that something's bothering --"

"NOTHING IS WRONG!" she yelled so loudly Draco was sure everyone had heard her. "I've been doing school work for the past few hours and right now all I want to do is go to sleep. Do you have a problem with that?"

"I guess not."

"Good!" she snapped, swinging back around again and yelling, "Good night," as she descended the stairs to her room.

"Well that went well," Draco said aloud to himself, still standing in the common room by himself. "Great job, Draco, great job."

* * * *

Harry took his time getting back to the common room, and as soon as he walked through the portrait hole, Ron, Hermione and Ginny immediately accosted him.

"What happened?"

"Did she try to kill you?"

"Did she tell you anything?"

"Was she mean?"

"Did she admit she's the Emerald Dragon?"

"Is she working for You-Know-Who?"

"ONE AT A TIME!" Harry yelled, putting his hands up in the air. He could barely hear his own thinking over their badgering! They all immediately stopped and stared at him with blank expressions. "Let's just go sit down, and I'll explain everything."

The four of them walked over to the couches that stood in front of the fire and sat down. Harry could see that they were all intently watching him and had probably spent the past hour just sitting around and waiting for him to come back.

"So?" Hermione burst. "Out with it!"

Harry proceeded to tell them everything Emily had told him. He mentioned the letter from Voldemort, how Ginny was right about her acting so horribly, and about how she had been initiated as a Death Eater. When he was finished, they all just sat there, as if lost in their own thoughts. Harry let them take it all in, realizing it was a lot to swallow.

"Fuck, man. You're screwed," Ron finally said, breaking the silence.

"Ron!" Both Ginny and Hermione scolded.

"Well, he is," Ron protested, defending himself.

"He's not screwed," Hermione said. "We just have to think of a well designed and extremely good plan."

"Plan? What kind of Plan? The only thing I see we can do is ship Harry off to Antarctica or something," Ron responded, but then turned to Harry and patted him on the leg, "Sorry, mate."

"Ron, if you haven't anything productive to say, why don't you just SHUT UP!" Hermione warned. Harry saw Ginny nod her approval.

"What about Emily?" Ginny asked, taking a second to stop glaring at her brother and turning to Harry, "Is she on our side in all this?"

"There's only so much she can do. She made it sound like she'd keep warning me about what's going on, but beyond that, she can't let them get suspicious of her."

"Why doesn't she just tell them all to go to hell!" Ron blurted out. Hermione quickly silenced him again with one of her glares.

"It doesn't matter how much she resists. Voldemort can control her if he needs to. I think we're better off if she keeps cooperating," Harry replied.

"How's she going to keep passing information to you if Draco's always following her around?" Ginny asked.

"Well..." he began, but then turned to Hermione. "Why didn't you tell me that she could read minds?" Harry noticed that Ron and Ginny suddenly turned their gazes away from him and were now looking at Hermione with surprise.

"I...er...well..."

"How could you possibly know that she can read minds?" Ron asked.

"That day in the entrance hall, when you two were following us," Hermione said, looking at Ron who had now turned a rather embarrassing shade of red. "You remember that day, don't you?" Hermione added accusingly.

"So, all that time you guys were talking strangely, it was because you were communicating telepathically?" Ginny asked.

"Yes," she said, turning to Harry. "And I didn't tell you because she told me not to."

"You listened to her!" Ron said practically jumping off his seat, "Why would you listen to her?"

"I don't know," Hermione admitted, sinking back into the sofa, "I just did."

"But you hate her!" Ron added.

"Look, I don't know why," she said, shaking her head, "I was going to tell you, but then it slipped my mind."

"Hermione, things don't slip out of your mind," Ginny said.

"Well this did," Hermione responded, looking at all of them, "Honestly! I forgot. I was so upset about the two of you," Hermione began, nodding at Ron and Harry, "That I just put it out of mind and then afterwards...it just slipped away, I'm sorry."

"So she's telepathic?" Ginny asked, turning back to Harry. "Don't both of you have to be in order to have an actual conversation?"

"She can hear what you're thinking and then project her own thoughts into your head," Harry explained.

"Oh," Ginny answered.

"So is that how she's going to pass info to you?" Ron asked, still eyeing Hermione suspiciously.

"I think. She can't exactly arrange daily meetings or anything. Draco would definitely notice that."

"Are you going to tell Dumbledore?" Hermione asked. He took a few breaths before answering, already knowing Hermione's response.

"He'll just blow her cover."

"You don't know that Harry!" Hermione burst out, obviously not agreeing with his answer.

"Hermione, he's not going to let her stay at school if he knows she's the Emerald Dragon!"

"Well, maybe she shouldn't stay here, Harry! Did you ever think of that!"

"Even if he sends her home to America, it will only be a matter of time before Voldemort finds her and brings her back."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that we have to figure out a way to take care of this," Harry said, determination clearly etched in his voice. "We don't usually have time to plan, but this time we do."

"Harry, I'm thinking that the no-plan situation has worked well in the past, why change it?" Ron piped in cheerfully.

"Shut up, Ron!" They all yelled in unison. Ron simply grumbled to himself and crossed his hands over his chest, sinking back into the couch.

"Sirius already knows she's the Emerald Dragon, so we've got his help," Harry said, thinking of useful resources, "I have you three," Harry added, though he looked at Ron a little doubtfully. "We can't rely on Emily simply because she can't get too involved given her situation."

"And we've got three weeks," Hermione added, slapping her fist into her cupped hand.

"We can do this!" Ginny then added, her voice strong and promising.

"Right!" Harry agreed. But as he walked up to his dorm room that evening, he couldn't help but feel that this was all going to end very, very badly.
* * * *

End Note: So, Emily's not so bad after all! Next chapter we get a little insight into Draco's personality, Harry gets his girlfriend back, and we find out about a few more of Emily's talents.