A fully body cry can wear you out, so much that you don't have the strength to cope with anyone else. My tears receded, and I gulped down the lump in my throat. This is what I get for trusting people. My face was moist and my eyes were puffy, no way in hell was I going to the Gryffindor Common room like this. "Ems?" said a quiet voice, I looked up, still hoping, still foolishly hoping to see my brother. It wasn't him. 

It was Draco. 

"Oh, um, hi Dray," I say, trying and failing to make it look like I wasn't crying my eyes out a few minutes ago. "It's 11 pm" he said quietly, wait, what? Wow, crying really makes you loose track of time..I won't do it again. "I was going to meet you up...but...well, I found you here." He offered me a hand. "Come on" he mumbled "let's go." I got up on my own, he stuffed his hand in his pocket. 

Fresh air always helped me clear my thoughts, so the night air helped, even if it had a certain chill in it. I could feel him wanting to ask me what happened, but I had seen Draco Malfoy loose his temper, and it wasn't pretty. "Pansy hit me" I said finally, He looked up and I saw anger flashing, "it didn't hurt-"

"Doesn't matter she still-"

"I don't care about her!" I say "I don't care about any of them." He sighed "I know you don't Emma but-"

 "I've heard it before Draco, freak, weirdo" I say, grasping the ledge "I've heard it since I was two. But I didn't care. Because I knew, I didn't belong. And no matter what, Harry was there. He was the one constant in my life. But now....in a place I call home, people saying things like that..."

"It hurts?" he guessed, "yeah..." I agreed, "and to make it worse...my brother doesn't seem to care. And as much as I'm scared to admit it....maybe I don't belong." His hand held mine, "You do belong, emma." he hissed "don't you dare say you don't, your the best witch here and one of my best friend and--" "I didn't mean that," I said "I know, I belong at Hogwarts...but I-I don't think I belong in Gryffindor."

His eyes found mine.

***

The next day I had arranged to meet Zoe, and ignore Harry and my other two so-called friends. The castle was darker than it usually was in daytime because ofthe thick, swirling gray snow at every window. Shivering, I walked past classrooms where lessons were taking place, catchingsnatches of what was happening within. Professor McGonagall wasshouting at someone who, by the sound of it, had turned his friendinto a badger. Resisting the urge to take a look, I walked onby, thinking that Justin might be using his free time to catch up onsome work, and deciding to check the library first.A group of the Hufflepuffs who should have been in Herbologywere indeed sitting at the back of the library, but they didn't seemto be working. And my brother was there too...eavesdropping, "What are you doing?" I whispered. He jumped and caught my eye guiltily. "I...er..." but his feeble excuse was cut off.

 "So anyway," a stout boy was saying, "I told Justin to hide up inour dormitory. I mean to say, if the  Potters have marked him down as hisnext victim, it's best if he keeps a low profile for a while. Of course,Justin's been waiting for something like this to happen ever since helet slip to Potter he was Muggle-born. Justin actually told him he'dbeen down for Eton. That's not the kind of thing you bandy aboutwith Slytherin's heirs on the loose, is it?""You definitely think it is the Potters, then, Ernie?" said a girl withblonde pigtails anxiously. I joined Harry, making sure to keep my difference, I still hadn't forgiven him.

"Hannah," said the stout boy solemnly, "they're  Parselmouths.Everyone knows that's the mark of a Dark wizard. Have you everheard of a decent one who could talk to snakes? They calledSlytherin himself Serpent-tongue. And that Emma Potter is friends with all those Slytherins"There was some heavy murmuring at this, and Ernie went on,"Remember what was written on the wall? Enemies of the Heir, Beware. Potter had some sort of run-in with Filch. Next thing we \ know,Filch's cat's attacked. That first year, Creevey, was annoying Emma at the Quidditch match, taking pictures of her brother while he was lyingin the mud. Next thing we know — Creevey's been attacked.""they always seems so nice, though," said Hannah uncertainly,"and, well, they're the ones who made You-Know-Who disappear. They can't be all bad, can he?"Ernie lowered his voice mysteriously, the Hufflepuffs bent closer,and Harry and I edged nearer so that we could catch Ernie's words.

 "No one knows how they survived that attack by You-Know-Who.I mean to say, they were only  babies when it happened. They shouldhave been blasted into smithereens. Only a really powerful Darkwizard could have survived a curse like that." He dropped his voiceuntil it was barely more than a whisper, and said, "That's probablywhy You-Know-Who wanted to kill them in the first place. Didn'twant other Dark Lords competing with him. I wonder what otherpowers the  Potters have been hiding?"Harry couldn't take anymore. Clearing his throat loudly, hestepped out from behind the bookshelves. I sighed and followed. If I hadn't been feelingso angry, I would have found the sight that greeted me funny:Every one of the Hufflepuffs looked as though they had been Petrified by the sight of us, and the color was draining out of Ernie's   face. I offered a winning smile "Hello," I said. "I'm looking for Justin Finch-Fletchley." added Harry.

 The Hufflepuffs' worst fears had clearly been confirmed. Theyall looked fearfully at Ernie."What do you want with him?" said Ernie in a quavering voice."I wanted to tell him what really happened with that snake atthe Dueling Club," said Harry. I glanced at him, Ernie bit his white lips and then, taking a deep breath, said, "Wewere all there. We saw what happened.""Then you noticed that after we spoke to it, the snake backedoff?" I said ."All I saw," said Ernie stubbornly, though he was trembling ashe spoke, "was you speaking Parseltongue and chasing the snaketoward Justin." 

"we didn't chase it at him!" Harry said, his voice shaking withanger. "It didn't even touch him!""It was a very near miss," said Ernie. "And in case you're gettingideas," he added hastily, "I might tell you that you can trace myfamily back through nine generations of witches and warlocks andmy blood's as pure as anyone's, so —""we don't care what sort of blood you've got!" said Harry fiercely."Why would I want to attack Muggle-borns?""I've heard you hate those Muggles you live with," said Ernieswiftly."It's not possible to live with the Dursleys and not hate them," I said  "I'd like to see you try it."Harry turned on his heel and stormed out of the library, earninghimself a reproving glare from Madam Pince, who was polishingthe gilded cover of a large spellbook.I followed him. 

"Can you believe it?" he fumed, I was still angry at him, so I just grunted and pushed past him. "I need to find Zoe. " I say as I turn on a corner I bumped into someone, "Oh, hello, Hagrid," I said, looking up.Hagrid's face was entirely hidden by a woolly, snow-covered balaclava, but it couldn't possibly be anyone else, as he filled most ofthe corridor in his moleskin overcoat. A dead rooster was hangingfrom one of his massive, gloved hands."All righ', Emma?" he said, pulling up the balaclava so he couldspeak. "Why aren't yeh both in class?""Canceled," said Harry,As I got up. "What're you doing inhere?" I asked.

 Hagrid held up the limp rooster."Second one killed this term," he explained. "It's either foxes ora Blood-Suckin' Bugbear, an' I need the headmaster's permissionter put a charm around the hen coop."He peered more closely at Harry and me from under his thick, snowflecked eyebrows."Yeh sure yeh're all righ'? Yeh both look all hot an' bothered —"Harry or I couldn't bring ourselves to repeat what Ernie and the rest ofthe Hufflepuffs had been saying about us."It's nothing,"I said. "I'd better get going, Hagrid, it's Transfiguration next and I've got to pick up my books." I walked off, my mind still full of what Ernie had said abouthim. Harry followed me. "Justin's been waiting for something like this to happen ever since helet slip to Potter he was Muggle-born. . . ."

Harry and I stamped up the stairs and turned along another corridor,which was particularly dark; the torches had been extinguished bya strong, icy draft that was blowing through a loose windowpane. I was halfway down the passage when harry tripped headlong oversomething lying on the floor.He turned to squint at what he'd fallen over and I felt as thoughhis stomach had dissolved. 

Justin Finch-Fletchley was lying on the floor, rigid and cold, alook of shock frozen on his face, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. And that wasn't all. Next to him was another figure, thestrangest sight Harry had ever seen.It was Nearly Headless Nick, no longer pearly-white and transparent, but black and smoky, floating immobile and horizontal, sixinches off the floor. His head was half off and his face wore an expression of shock identical to Justin's.Harry got to his feet, my breathing fast and shallow, my heart doing a kind of drumroll against my ribs. 

I looked wildly up anddown the deserted corridor and saw a line of spiders scuttling asfast as they could away from the bodies. The only sounds were themuffled voices of teachers from the classes on either side. I could run, and no one would ever know he had been there.But I couldn't just leave them lying here. . . . Would anyone believe we hadn't had anything to do withthis?As I stood there, panicking, a door right next to us openedwith a bang. Peeves the Poltergeist came shooting out."Why, it's the potty wee Potters!" cackled Peeves, knocking Harry'sglasses askew as he bounced past him. "What're the Potters up to? Why're Potters lurking —" 

Peeves stopped, halfway through a midair somersault. Upsidedown, he spotted Justin and Nearly Headless Nick. He flipped theright way up, filled his lungs and, before Harry or I could stop him,screamed, "ATTACK! ATTACK! ANOTHER ATTACK! NOMORTAL OR GHOST IS SAFE! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!ATTAAAACK!"

 Crash — crash — crash — door after door flew open along thecorridor and people flooded out. For several long minutes, therewas a scene of such confusion that Justin was in danger of beingsquashed and people kept standing in Nearly Headless Nick. Harry and I found ourselves pinned against the wall as the teachers shouted forquiet. Professor McGonagall came running, followed by her ownclass, one of whom still had black-and-white-striped hair. She usedher wand to set off a loud bang, which restored silence, and orderedeveryone back into their classes.

 No sooner had the scene clearedsomewhat than Ernie the Hufflepuff arrived, panting, on the scene."Caught in the act!" Ernie yelled, his face stark white, pointinghis finger dramatically at Harry and me, I snarled."That will do, Macmillan!" said Professor McGonagall sharply.Peeves was bobbing overhead, now grinning wickedly, surveyingthe scene; Peeves always loved chaos. As the teachers bent overJustin and Nearly Headless Nick, examining them, Peeves brokeinto song:"Oh, Potters, you rotters, oh, what have you done,You're killing off students, you think it's good fun —""That's enough, Peeves!" barked Professor McGonagall, andPeeves zoomed away backward, with his tongue out at Harry and me.

 Justin was carried up to the hospital wing by Professor Flitwickand Professor Sinistra of the Astronomy department, but nobodyseemed to know what to do for Nearly Headless Nick. In the end,Professor McGonagall conjured a large fan out of thin air, whichshe gave to Ernie with instructions to waft Nearly Headless Nickup the stairs. This Ernie did, fanning Nick along like a silent blackhovercraft. This left Harry and Professor McGonagall alone together."This way, Potter,Ms Potter" she said."Professor," said Harry at once, "I swear we didn't —""This is out of my hands, Potter," said Professor McGonagallcurtly. 

We marched in silence around a corner and stopped beforea large and extremely ugly stone gargoyle."Lemon drop!" she said. This was evidently a password, becausethe gargoyle sprang suddenly to life and hopped aside as the wallbehind me split in two. Even full of dread for what was coming, I couldn't fail to be amazed. Behind the wall was a spiral staircase that was moving smoothly upward, like an escalator. 

As we andProfessor McGonagall stepped onto it, I heard the wall thudclosed behind them. They rose upward in circles, higher andhigher, until at last, slightly dizzy, I saw a gleaming oak doorahead, with a brass knocker in the shape of a griffin. I knew now where we were being taken. This must be whereDumbledore lived.

We  stepped off the stone staircase at the top, and ProfessorMcGonagall rapped on the door. It opened silently and theyentered. Professor McGonagall told Harry and me to wait and left us there, alone.Harry looked around. One thing was certain: of all the teachers'offices I had visited so far this year, Dumbledore's was by farthe most interesting. If I hadn't been scared out of hmy wits that I was about to be thrown out of school, I would have been verypleased to have a chance to look around it. 

It was a large and beautiful circular room, full of funny littlenoises. A number of curious silver instruments stood on spindlelegged tables, whirring and emitting little puffs of smoke. The wallswere covered with portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses,all of whom were snoozing gently in their frames. There was also anenormous, claw-footed desk, and, sitting on a shelf behind it, ashabby, tattered wizard's hat — the Sorting Hat.

I yearned to put it on, but I resisted.

Minutes passed, We weren't alone after all. Standing on a golden perch behind thedoor was a decrepit-looking bird that resembled a half-pluckedturkey. Harry and I stared at it and the bird looked balefully back, making its gagging noise again. I thought it looked very ill. Its eyeswere dull and, even as I watched, a couple more feathers fellout of its tail. I was just thinking that all pet bird to die while we were alone in the office with it, when the birdburst into flames.Harry yelled in shock andI backed away into the desk. I lookedfeverishly around in case there was a glass of water somewhere butcouldn't see one; the bird, meanwhile, had become a fireball; it gaveone loud shriek and next second there was nothing but a smoldering pile of ash on the floor.The office door opened. Dumbledore came in, looking verysomber."Professor," Harry gasped. "Your bird —" I stammered "we couldn't do anything — he just caught fire —"To my astonishment, Dumbledore smiled."About time, too," he said. "He's been looking dreadful for days;I've been telling him to get a move on." 

He chuckled at the stunned look on Harry and my faces."Fawkes is a phoenix. Phoenixes burst into flame whenit is time for them to die and are reborn from the ashes. Watchhim . . ." I looked down in time to see a tiny, wrinkled, newborn birdpoke its head out of the ashes. It was quite as ugly as the old one. Still, it was a pheonix and extremely interesting.

 "It's a shame you had to see him on a Burning Day," saidDumbledore, seating himself behind his desk. "He's really veryhandsome most of the time, wonderful red and gold plumage. Fascinating creatures, phoenixes. They can carry immensely heavyloads, their tears have healing powers, and they make highly faithful pets."In the shock of Fawkes catching fire, I had forgotten whathe was there for, but it all came back to me as Dumbledore settled himself in the high chair behind the desk and fixed Harry and me with hispenetrating, light-blue stare.

 Before Dumbledore could speak another word, however, thedoor of the office flew open with an almighty bang and Hagridburst in, a wild look in his eyes, his balaclava perched on top of hisshaggy black head and the dead rooster still swinging from hishand."It wasn' Harry or Emma, Professor Dumbledore!" said Hagrid urgently. "Iwas talkin' ter them seconds before that kid was found, they never hadtime, sir —"Dumbledore tried to say something, but Hagrid went rantingon, waving the rooster around in his agitation, sending featherseverywhere."— it can't've bin them, I'll swear it in front o' the Ministry o'Magic if I have to —""Hagrid, I —""— yeh've got the wrong kids, sir, I know Harry and Emma never —""Hagrid!" said Dumbledore loudly. "I do not think that Harry or Emma attacked those people.""Oh," said Hagrid, the rooster falling limply at his side. "Right.I'll wait outside then, Headmaster."And he stomped out looking embarrassed. 

"You don't think it was us, Professor?" Harry repeated hopefullyas Dumbledore brushed rooster feathers off his desk."No, Harry, I don't," said Dumbledore, though his face wassomber again. "But I still want to talk to you both."Harry and I waited nervously while Dumbledore considered us, thetips of his long fingers together.

"I must ask you, both, whether there is anything you'd like totell me," he said gently. "Anything at all." "No" said Harry, same time I said "yes", both our tones were hesitant. "I would prefer it to be private, Professor. " I whisper. "Very well, Harry you may leave and tell whichever professor you have that Emma will be late." I refused to meet my brother's eye. Waited till he went, "Yes, Emma?" asked Dumbledore kindly. I didn't know where to start, so I decided to start with a question. "Have you ever heard of a Re-storting, Sir?" I ask, his face remained neuteral, "my friend went through it" he said "from Hufflepuff to Gryffindor." "Oh, well, I" I cleared my throat "well, I-I want to have a re-sorting. "

"Is that so?"

I nod. 

"Why?" he asked, the look he was giving me made me feel like I was being x-rayed, "I never....I never felt I belonged in Gryffindor...and...I think the sorting hat just put me in it to show me I don't belong." His eyebrow raised, and my stomach churned. "The sorting hat told you, you didn't belong?" he asked quietly. 

"He told me, I'd come back."

He blew a breath, and looked at me, my heart matched my breath; rapid. "Then you don't belong in Gryffindor" he said finally, my heart rate doubled as my heart leaped. "So, I can do it then?" I said, unable to keep the excitement out of my voice." "It's not that simple" said the headmaster, "I need to consolodate with all Heads of House. It'll take at least a week."

"But you'll let me know in a week, sir?"

"Most probably, yes."

"Thank you professor."

"Good Luck, Emma."