Keeping Emma

Chapter 4: Awakening Into a Nightmare

Emma felt herself slowly drifting up, out of the sea of darkness that surrounded her, toward the light. Somewhere in the dim recesses of her mind were the dregs of a nightmare--a monstrous, leering face, pain, terror. She heard herself whimper in fear as she felt someone touch her face. She saw a large, filthy hand swing toward her and waited for the pain when it struck her. But, instead, all she felt was a cool, gentle touch to her forehead.

She heard herself whimper again and heard a voice, a woman's voice, say softly, "You're safe, Emma. Don't be frightened."

Emma opened her eyes and saw a blurry image of a woman in lime green staring down at her. She was an older woman, with gray hair cut into a short bob. But her blue eyes were kind. Suddenly, Emma became aware of a parching thirst. She must have said something because the woman smiled.

"Of course you're thirsty, Emma. Here. I'm placing a length of bandage between your lips. It's been soaked in nice cold water. Just suck on it a bit and then it's back to sleep you go."

Emma felt the cold, wet cloth between her lips and she sucked greedily, like an infant at its bottle. But even that slight movement was so difficult. She'd never felt so weak. Exhausted from even that slight effort, she saw the woman wave a stick toward her. The darkness overtook her once more as she fell back to sleep.

*****

Emma opened her eyes and took in the strange room. She was staring up at a ceiling that seemed to glow. Small orbs, bubblelike, seemed to be clustered in the center, emitting a soft light. She lay in a bed. She tried to sit up, but couldn't. It almost felt as if she were restrained, but when she felt for the restraints, there were none. She was only able to lift her head enough to see that she was clothed in a long white gown and covered by a sheet and slightly scratchy white blanket.

Next to her bed were a table and an armchair upholstered in a color Emma's mother liked to call 'diarrhea-green.' An open door on the left-hand wall looked as if it might lead to a bathroom. Directly across from her bed was a window. It was dark and rain was pattering against the glass. A tall, narrow cabinet stood against the right hand wall. Emma heard the muffled sounds of traffic outside. She tried to call out but couldn't. Her voice came out no louder than the mew of a newborn kitten.

Several minutes later, the door opened and a woman entered. The orbs suddenly brightened. She was wearing long, lime-green colored robes. Emma recognized her from the dream she'd had, of someone giving her water. It must not have been a dream after all.

"Hello, Emma," she said. "You're awake."

Emma opened her mouth to speak, to ask where she was, but, again, the only sound that escaped her throat was a whimper.

The woman smiled kindly. "You are in St Mungo's Hospital, Emma. But you are out of all danger. You've been asleep for three days. Do you remember what happened to you?"

Emma thought back. Her last memory was taking her backpack from the locker in the train station, telling Katya and Mischa to go on to the club and have a good time. Then, suddenly, it all came rushing back to her--that horrible, filthy man, the knife, the terror. My God, she realized, she'd been raped. Silent tears began to run down her face.

The woman used a clean length of bandage to wipe her tears. "No, Emma. I'm happy to be able to tell you that he did not rape you," she said. "He was stopped before it got to that point. He was caught and is in jail. But, he did beat you and stab you, in the left side. Do you remember that? You lost a lot of blood, and you had a concussion, but you are fine now. I am going to release the restraints on you."

Emma saw the woman wave a sort of stick at her and she felt a loosening around her chest and waist. Then, another wave of the stick brought the top half of the bed slowly up until Emma was in a sitting position. She saw the woman wave the stick at the little table next to the bed and a glass of ice water appeared. Her immediate fear that she had been raped gone, she realized that she must be seeing things. They must have her on some incredible pain medication because, besides being delusional, she felt no pain from her injuries at all, she thought. The only after effects seemed to be a horrible feeling of weakness.

The woman held the glass up to her mouth and allowed Emma to drink. She opened her mouth to speak again and her voice came out in a raspy whisper. "He touched me," she said, starting to cry again. "You're sure he didn't...?"

"We are sure." she answered. "My name, by the way, is Selma. I am one of the Healers here at St. Mungo's."

"You said that man, the man who hurt me, he was caught?"

"Yes, according to the Muggle papers, his name was Hank Lummox. A rather fitting name, if you ask me. At one point during the attack you screamed. A friend of yours had been waiting outside the hostel for you to return. He heard the scream and came running. He saved you, Emma. Do you remember Severus Snape in the alley?"

Emma closed her eyes and tried to remember. Suddenly, more bits and pieces began coming back, but it was disjointed. She remembered screaming and the man hitting her in the face, then stabbing her. Then there was a blast of red light. She remembered putting her hand to her side and lifting it up, seeing it covered in her own blood. She opened her eyes and said, "No, I'm sorry. I don't."

"That's all right. It really doesn't matter. Severus and his Headmaster are up in the visitor's tea shoppe. Severus has been spending every night here in that chair since he brought you in. "

Now, I do not want you to become upset or frightened, but I have to explain some things to you. St. Mungo's is a different sort of hospital than you would expect. The people who work here and our patients are not like you. You see, Emma, we are all witches and wizards. We have the ability to perform magic. This hospital is where witches and wizards come when they are ill or have been injured. Severus is a wizard. That is why he brought you here," Selma explained calmly.

Emma blinked. Okay, she thought, obviously this Selma was a patient who had wandered off of the mental ward. She seemed harmless enough though. Maybe she just likes to think she is a nurse who can magically cure people.

Selma smiled. "No, Emma. I am not insane and you are not fantasizing due to drugs. What I just told you is true. I am a witch and your injuries were repaired by magic. We stopped the bleeding with blood-clotting charms. Severus had done one in the alley that slowed it, but sometimes it takes more than one. Plus there was internal damage we had to repair. Then, we had you wrapped in bandages that were soaked in a special healing potion. We kept you in an enchanted sleep while you healed, which took three days."

Emma moved her hand to her side and felt. There were no bandages, no pain. She looked at the woman questioningly.

"Physically, you are healed. The potion we soak the bandages in even fixed it so you will not even be left with a scar. I removed the bandages earlier today. Don't you wonder how I am able to answer all your questions without you speaking? I am a Legilimens, which means that I have a special magical ability to read minds."

The memory of Severus sitting in that deli on Charing Cross Road flashed into her mind. "Maybe I can read minds," he had said.

"Yes, Severus is a Legilimens too," Selma said. "I went to school with his poor, dear mother. Now, do you think that you might be able to eat a little something? Maybe just a poached egg, toast, and juice. A little geletin for desert? What's your favoite flavor? Ah, cherry. Mine too."

Without Selma doing a thing, a tray suddenly appeared on the little stand next to the bed. "St. Mungo's keeps a staff of House-Elves in the kitchens," Selma said as she waved her stick at the tray. It floated over to hover over Emma's lap. "Do you think you can manage?" Emma did not feel hungry. "I'm sorry, dear, but I have to insist that you eat that. You need to get your strength up," said Selma.

Emma sighed and began to eat. But the effort exhausted her again. After only a few bites, she could no longer lift the fork. It was just too heavy.

Selma took a vial of liquid from her pocket and poured it into Emma's juice. "It's a strengthening potion," she said, lifting the glass to her mouth. "Here you go, drink it up."

Too weak to argue, Emma drank the juice. Immediately, she began to feel better, stronger. She finished the food on the tray and it immediately vanished.

"That's a good girl," said Selma. "Now, I want you to get cleaned up. Through that door is a bathroom with a shower. While you're doing that, I'll get these bed linens changed and get you a clean gown."

On a shelf over the little sink, she found soap, shampoo, toothpaste and a toothbrush. The small mirror showed that her hair was a mess. She began to run her fingers through it, trying to get the tangles out when, suddenly, a comb appeared. It began to magically and efficiently float around her head, thoroughly taming her hair. The gown she wore came in two pieces. The front and back tied at the shoulders, under her arms, and at her hips. She hurriedly untied the gown and let it fall to the floor. It immediately disappeared. She saw that Selma had been correct. The skin of her left side, where she had been stabbed, was perhaps a little pink, but it was unscarred. She grabbed the soap and shampoo and stepped into the shower.

When Emma emerged wrapped in a towel, she saw that Selma had made up the bed with fresh linens.

"Ah, good," she said. "You get dried off and I'll help you get into your fresh gown. Unfortunately, all your belongings were left in the alley and the police took them for evidence."

"My papers, my passport and everything was in my purse," Emma said, worried, as she dried herself.

Selma smiled sadly and refused to meet her eyes. "Do not concern yourself about that now."

"Can I use a telephone?" Emma asked. "I need to call my mother. I'll reverse the charges. Has she been told I was hurt?"

Selma picked up the gown and unfolded the two pieces. She did not answer as she secured the little ties at Emma's shoulders and sides.

When she had Emma settled back into the bed, Selma waved her wand and magically summoned a small chair to the bedside. She sat down and sighed. "Emma, I was chosen to be in charge of you because I am a Muggleborn witch. The word, 'Muggle,' is what the wizarding world calls regular people without magical abilities. It was thought that I would be more sensitive to your needs and mental state. We, meaning witches and wizards, do not rely on Muggle technology. In fact, it tends to not work in places and areas of high magical concentration, such as here. We have no telephones, Emma."

Then, Selma once more waved the stick, which Emma now assumed was a magic wand, at her. Emma felt the light pressure of the restraints holding her down as before. "I don't need to be restrained," she said, struggling. As she struggled, she felt the restraints grow tighter, stronger, quickly sapping her strength.

"I'm sorry, Emma," said Selma. "But I was ordered to keep you restrained whenever you are left alone. Stop struggling. They gain their strength from you."

"Why? I'm feeling better. I'm sure I will not fall from the bed or anything."

"It's not that, dear," said Selma. "We have our own government, you see, and our own law enforcement squad and Minister of Magic. We live separately from the Muggles, secretly. The Minister of Magic ordered you restrained. I have to go bring Severus and the Headmaster in now. They will explain things to you." Then, Selma left the room, closing the door behind her.

Emma lay there, a feeling of dread clutching her stomach. She wondered why this Minister of Magic would order her restrained. Something really was not right here. After several minutes, the door opened. Selma entered the room, followed by Severus. He wore an odd outfit, all black, but a long, tight, button-down overcoat that looked like something out of a Dickens novel. Over his arm he carried a long black cloak.

But it was the other man that took the wardrobe prize. He looked very old, with a long silver beard and wearing purple robes that had silver stars and crescent moons embroidered on them.

Severus looked down at her. "Hello Emma, allow me to introduce the Headmaster of my school, Professor Dumbledore. How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, Severus," she answered. "Why has your Minister of Magic, or whatever he's called, ordered me restrained? I need to contact my mother. I want my mother." Emma was beginning to get hysterical.

"Emma," said Selma, "you need to calm down. Just take deep breaths. Everything is going to be explained. You need to be calm so you can listen and understand what has happened."

Emma had not even realized that she had begun struggling against the restraints again. She fell back passively, exhausted again and just breathed.

"Emma," the elderly man said, "I am sorry we are meeting under these circumstances. I know that Healer Selma has explained that we live separately and secretly from the Muggle world. We have a problem, Emma. You know about us now. Severus performed a Stupifying Spell to disable your assailant in the alley. Then he brought you here. Your friends at the hostel returned to find you missing and alerted the Muggle authorities. They saw your assailant stagger out of the alley, covered in blood. They found your belongings and assumed that he had killed you. He is a convicted criminal, so the police came up with a scenario that he had dumped your body in the river. The Stupifying Spell makes a person very suggestible, so the man confessed to it. The Muggle world believes you dead."

"My mother thinks I'm dead? Please, you have to get a message to her. That's cruel. I'm all she has. Please," Emma begged.

The aged professor's blue eyes met hers sadly. "I'm sorry," he said, "but we cannot. You see, your murder has become a sensationalized news story. Reporters are swarming the alley, interviewing your mother, your roommates at the hostel. Your president has even become involved. You cannot just suddenly show up, now, completely unhurt and unscarred. How would it be explained? The secrecy in which the wizarding world exists would be compromised."

"That's the reason for the restraints, Emma," said Severus. "The Minister of Magic has ordered that you not be returned to the Muggle world, ever."

"So, you're going to let everyone continue to think I'm dead?" she asked in horror. "I won't tell. I'll just say that I remember nothing."

"I'm sorry, but our Ministry will not allow you to go free," said Professor Dumbledore. "I spent the last couple days researching our law. We have a statute that says that if a Muggle threatens the secrecy of our world, the Ministry has the right to have you imprisoned."

Emma felt the blood drain from her head. The room began to spin and she began to hyperventilate. Suddenly, she knew she was going to be sick. Selma quickly waved her wand and released the restraints. Emma got to the toilet just in time for the food she had eaten to be rejected from her body. When she was done, she lay on the cool tiled floor, trembling and crying, trying to draw strength and equilibrium from its hard surface.

Severus knelt next to her and began to turn her over, but Emma scrambled away from him. She made it to the wall near the window, pulled her legs up to her chest in a fetal position and sat there, shaking, her eyes closed as she wished herself awake from this nightmare. Then, opening her eyes, she spied the window nearly right above her.

Without thinking, she slid up the wall to a standing position and lunged at it, neither knowing nor caring how high up she might be. Severus, however, caught hold of her and dragged her back to the bed, forcing her back down onto it.

Selma used her wand to restrain Emma once more. Emma looked in her eyes and saw that the woman was visibly upset at the role she was playing in Emma's captivity. Emma held her hand out toward her. "Please, Selma, I wouldn't let anyone do this to you. You know what is going to happen to me."

"I know," she said, "but I'd end up in prison, in Azkaban. I can't. You don't know what the Wizard prison is like. It's cruel. It is guarded by horrible monsters called Dementors." The older woman began to cry. "I would help you escape if I could."

Emma looked back at the old man. He looked as if he were going to be sick. "Please," she begged him, "You're a kind man. You know this is wrong. I can see it in your eyes. Please help me. Please. I'm just a kid. I only turned eighteen a week ago. I'm just a kid, really. I just want to go home to my mother. I won't tell anyone about you."

"Yes, I know it is wrong. And I am ashamed of my part in this, but my hands are tied. Our law is clear. But to save you from being imprisoned, the Ministry has agreed to allow you to come live at my school, in Severus' custody. It is the less terrible choice. Otherwise, you would be subjected a place more horrible than you have ever imagined."

Emma's looked at Severus. "What are you going to do to me?" she asked, with a growing feeling of dread as she remembered that he'd tried to slip something into her drink.

"I'm going to keep you safe. You will simply live in Hogwarts castle. You will be free to roam the building and grounds, but spells will be put in place to keep you from running away. I didn't want this either, but if you escape, cause problems, both of us will end up in Azkaban."

"Why did you bring me here?" she asked him.

"I didn't think before bringing you here, Emma," he said. "If I could do it again, I'd take you to a Muggle hospital. But I panicked and never stopped to consider the consequences. I didn't even know this could happen. I swear. Please remember that I wanted you to be released back out into the Muggle world and try not to hate me too much. It seems we will be spending a lot of time together, so we might as well try to get along."

"We're going to leave you now, Emma," said Professor Dumbledore. "We will be back tomorrow. You are being released from here. Selma, perhaps you can help her get a good night's sleep."

Selma removed her wand from her robes and waved it at Emma, saying "Somnulus." Emma closed her eyes and fell back to sleep.