Emma curled up in an armchair, trying hard to get comfortable as she kicked her legs out over an arm of the chair. The warmth of the living room was forcing her eyelids to grow heavy, and she would be loath to give in to her exhaustion. The moment she and Remus returned home, it felt like things fell apart. They had spent a majority of Boxing Day with Lyall and had returned later that night. Not even hours later, Emma had given into the desire to hurt herself, and she broke down, guilty and ashamed that she wasn't strong enough to resist.
"It's okay," Remus told her earnestly. "Things aren't going to change overnight."
"It should be overnight," Emma cried, her shame mixed with frustration. She felt weak.
"You're not weak," Remus said, almost like he was reading her mind. "You just need time, and this is going to take time."
It was something that Emma didn't want to even consider – needing time. The idea of it made her feel worse, almost like there was no end in sight. She had spent the entirety of the night in her room just staring at the silver scissors she used, shimmering in the faint moonlight like a taunt. After a strongly worded debate with herself, Emma decided that she could no longer trust herself.
She carefully wrapped her weapon of choice in an old shirt and carried it out with her to the kitchen the next morning. With a heavy sigh, she handed the hastily wrapped parcel to Remus. "I don't trust myself," she had told him quietly, her eyes never leaving the bundle that Remus now held. "I don't want to feel like this anymore," she said, forcing herself to look away. "Will you please help me?"
With a gentle smile that Remus agreed, more than happy to help Emma. Unfortunately, Emma quickly realized that she hated the idea of relinquishing her control. Without her method of stress relief, the days were filled with panic attacks that left her exhausted and moody. It took a lot of effort for Remus to convince Emma to try and stay on a regular eating schedule, but he refused to give up.
Remus tried in vain to have her journal, tried to teach her meditation to no avail, and had quickly found out that not even reading could hold her attention. The television had managed to create a headache-inducing line of questioning for Remus. Emma had insisted that he walk her how exactly he managed to get the television to work, because after all, "magic makes electronics wonky." Her line of questioning then led into questioning the radio and how the entire house worked since none of it made sense. It wasn't until Remus slipped away and returned with a massive mug of hot chocolate that she finally stopped asking questions.
In any other circumstance, Remus would have been glad to answer all of her questions, but her avoidance of acknowledging her struggles wouldn't help. It wasn't until the morning that Remus sat her down in the kitchen and placed a pencil and paper in front of her that things finally started to click.
"Draw," Remus said simply.
Emma looked between Remus and the paper in front of her in confusion. "What?"
"Draw," Remus repeated. "Maybe try drawing how you're feeling?"
"You're kidding," she muttered, staring down at the paper. She was sure that Remus couldn't be serious.
"No, really – draw how you're feeling right now."
With a skeptical look, Emma picked up the pencil and stared at the paper. "How am I supposed to draw how I'm feeling?"
Remus looked at her thoughtfully, not missing the anxious tapping of her foot on the floor. "If your feelings were a creature, what would it look like?" Remus suggested, pleased to see something light up in her eyes. "I won't look if you don't want me to," he said, setting about the kitchen to make breakfast.
"I don't mind," Emma said quietly, watching him for a beat before turning her attention back to the paper in front of her. It took a few more minutes for anything to happen, but as Remus started to make toast, he heard the gentle scratch of the pencil connecting to the paper.
Emma had become so engrossed in her drawing that she didn't even acknowledge that Remus placed a plate down for her. He watched her in amusement for a few minutes, before intervening.
"Emma," he said softly, his lips quirking at her startled expression. "Eat before it gets cold." She looked at him in confusion and then spotted her plate, a flush creeping into her cheeks as she pushed the paper aside and pulled her plate over so that she could eat.
Remus continued to watch Emma for a moment, thinking about the things he had learned about her throughout the past few days. The very first thing he realized was that Emma had a need to be in control of things – of herself and her situations. He quickly realized that she was very much like him, and she didn't fare well with change. When she had a panic attack, she needed to hold onto something soft to help keep herself grounded. If it wasn't something soft, she would panic more, and any progress made would be quickly lost. If she wasn't comfortable with something, she would never say that she was and would fidget – a lot. If Emma was telling the truth, she would pull at her right sleeve, but if she lied, she pulled on her left. When she was feeling particularly stressed, she would find the closest unworn cardigan or jumper and throw it on, almost like a security blanket. To his relief, chocolate still did wonders for her mood. It offered her temporary relief, and hot chocolate would get her to calm down long enough that she would sleep.
He also learned that her anxiety manifested itself in the form of a large, hairy, fox-like creature with massive claws.
"I think a part of me has always seen that," Emma said, a wry smile crossing her face as she noticed Remus looking at the paper. "It wasn't like I really had to think about it."
"Is it big? Or is it small?"
"Massive," she answered between bites of egg. "Sometimes it walks on four legs, but it mostly walks on two."
"Now that you see it, how are you feeling?"
Emma stared at the creature on the page curiously for a moment, before turning back to Remus. "Better," she said, almost surprised at her response.
And that was what led to Emma sitting awkwardly in an armchair by the fire, a stack of papers sitting haphazardly on her lap, and a pencil held stiffly in her hand. After drawing her anxiety, she had found an unspoken enjoyment in drawing and continued to draw with minimal prompting. It had been a lot of trial and error and even more tears over the past few days, and she was exhausted. Even with finding an outlet to channel her energy into, her thoughts still swirled in her mind constantly.
Emma stirred as a gentle hand pushed her hair behind her ear. She forced herself to open her eyes and looked at Remus with bleary eyes.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, brushing the backs of his fingers against her cheek.
"Tired," Emma mumbled, stretching out her legs in front of her
"It's late," Remus acknowledged, plucking the pencil out of Emma's hand before she hurt herself with it. "You had a good day today."
With a quiet hum, Emma's eyes fell shut again.
"It's New Year's Eve tomorrow," Remus said, the hint of a smile in his voice. "Did you want to do anything?"
"No idea," Emma muttered, curling back up and pulling her legs back underneath her, nearly causing the papers on her lap to fall.
"Maybe you should go to bed?"
"Here's fine," she responded, and for the night it was. It wasn't until the next morning that Emma realized that she had managed to fall asleep in the armchair. The day was just beginning to break and cast light into the living room. To her surprise, Remus had fallen asleep on the couch, legs stretched out longways, and a book sitting open on his chest.
With a quiet groan, Emma pulled off the blanket that was wrapped around her and stood up. As comfortable as the armchair was, it wasn't that comfortable to fall asleep in. With a yawn, Emma decided that she was still tired and would finally make her way to her room. She pulled the blanket back over her shoulders and frowned as she looked over at Remus. There was a definite chill in the living room. Though Remus was always the temperature of a furnace, she couldn't imagine him being too comfortable.
Just like Remus had done for her dozens of times, Emma carefully picked up the book Remus had been reading, marked the page he was on, and placed it on the table. She pulled the blanket back off her shoulders and put it over Remus, grateful that it was long enough. With a nod to herself, she made her way to her room and quickly fell back asleep.
Emma felt as though she had just fallen asleep when she was woken back up.
"Come on," Remus said. "Get up and get dressed. I've got breakfast ready for you, and then we're going on a walk."
With a pout, Emma sat up and rubbed her eyes. She took a look outside her window and looked at Remus as though he had grown several heads. "It's snowing."
"That means it's the perfect time to go outside," he said with a smile. "Come on, it'll be nice."
Muttering under her breath, Emma followed Remus's instructions and got dressed, joining him in the kitchen. "I don't want to go outside," she said grumpily as she sat down at the table. She took a look out the kitchen window and glowered at Remus as she ate her toast.
"And you haven't set foot outside in nearly a week," Remus said, looking at Emma over the top of his cup of tea.
Rolling her eyes, Emma ate slowly, trying to prolong going outside. Unfortunately, she wasn't able to delay it for too long. She took her final bite of toast, and Remus already had her dish in the sink, smiling at her expectantly.
"That was rude," Emma grumbled.
"Come on," Remus encouraged, making his way towards the front door.
"Do we have to go out?" Emma asked, following Remus slowly.
"Yes," he said, grinning as he fastened his cloak around his shoulders. He pulled Emma's cloak off the coat rack and handed to her and then pulled down a scarf. "It's not good for you to stay inside so much. You'll warm up quickly." He draped the scarf over Emma's shoulders. Rolling her eyes, Emma wrapped the scarf around her neck. "That's my girl," Remus said fondly, opening the door.
"You're annoying," Emma said as she reluctantly walked out into the cold.
"That's what I've been told," Remus chuckled, offering his arm for her to take. Emma huffed in disbelief but took his arm, still pouting.
"Because it's true," Emma said, allowing Remus to lead her out to the street. "Where are we going?"
"Nowhere."
"Nowhere? What does that even mean?"
"Precisely as I say – nowhere. We don't have any destination in mind."
"Well, I don't suppose that we're going to Narnia, are we? It is rather cold, and wasn't it snowing when Lucy went through the wardrobe?"
"Who's to say we're not heading into Narnia?" Remus said seriously. He hummed quietly in thought before turning them in the direction of the woods.
"Well, then, lead the way, Mr. Tumnus," Emma laughed.
The two walked in companionable silence. Being in the woods wasn't as cold as being out in the street, the snow held up high in the branches and off the trail. The sun peered through the gaps in the trees, leaving lazy spots of twinkling light in the grass. They walked for a while, and Emma began to slow down, leaning her head on Remus's arm as they continued further into the woods. Eventually, her walking had slowed to the point that Remus was forced to stop. "Would you like to head back?"
Emma nodded. "I believe Mr. Tumnus has decided to take the longest way possible through Narnia," she said, looking up at him with a sleepy grin. "In fact, I don't think you're Mr. Tumnus at all, and we are actually traveling through the Forest of Fangorn, but I'm afraid Treebeard and the other Ents are nowhere to be found. I must admit that I'm not sure which of us is Merry and which of us is Pippin in this context, but I'm sure when I figure it out, it will make all the sense in the world."
"And I believe that I need to take you home so you can rest," Remus said, chuckling. "You're delirious. Are you able to walk back?"
"Hmm, possibly if Treebeard were to carry me," Emma replied thoughtfully.
Remus laughed, the sound bright and echoing as it traveled the forest. "Well, perhaps you'll have to settle for Sam, Mr. Frodo," Remus said, crouching down and pulling Emma's arms around his neck. "'I can't carry it for you, but I can carry you and it as well. So up you get! Come on, Mr. Frodo dear! Sam will give you a ride! Just tell him where to go and he'll go."
Emma snorted as she climbed onto Remus's back, resting her head on his shoulder. "Onwards, Sam," Emma murmured sleepily. "Did we ever get that far in the book?"
"I believe that we did, but I'm not sure you stayed awake long enough," Remus admitted, the hint of a smile in his voice. "Perhaps we'll have to try reading that part again?"
Emma only hummed in response, being pulled into a light sleep, her eyes closing as Remus carried her home.
"Re, I have a question," Emma said as they exited the woods and were back on the road.
"What is it, love?"
"Why didn't Sam and Frodo take the Eagles into Mordor?"
"Because Sauron would've seen them," Remus said. "That and the story would have been finished a lot sooner."
"Oh, yeah," she murmured in response, drifting off again.
When Emma awoke much later, she was surprised to find herself in a bundle of blankets on the couch. The fireplace was lit, and the television was on, the gentle hum of the muted device adding to the crackle and pop of the logs. Not spotting Remus in the room, she frowned. It didn't appear that there were any lights on in the house, and it was disconcerting to wake up with no one around.
She sat up slowly and looked outside, surprised to see it was dark out, the only light coming from the snow as it reflected back to the house. Emma was moments away from calling for Remus when the front door opened.
"You're awake," Remus said in surprise. "I just went out to get some takeaway. I didn't feel like cooking, and I thought you might like something different."
The smell of Chinese wafted over from where Remus stood, and she grinned. "Perfect," she said.
Remus and Emma ate dinner in the living room, watching the television together. Take away boxes sat between them, on the table, and on their laps. They went through the channels trying to find something of interest to watch before settling on a New Year's broadcast.
With her belly full and the night coming to a close, Emma found herself growing increasingly sleepy. She yawned, her eyes closing against her will.
"Did you want to go to bed?" Remus asked.
"No, I want to stay up," she grumbled, forcing her eyes back open. She looked at the clock with a shrug. "It's only 15 minutes until midnight."
Remus smiled. "Here," he said, pulling a pillow from an armchair and placing it on his lap. "Take a quick nap."
With a grumble, Emma laid down, closing her eyes. Remus gently ran a hand through her hair, and before long, she drifted off.
Her dreams were confusing, a mix of the meadow and flashes of Fenrir that melded into Persephone and then to Neville and then Draco. When Draco disappeared, Jude made an appearance before shifting to her mother. As each scene would change, the sandy-colored wolf and the black dog would follow her, almost as if silent guardians. Her entire dream was disjointed and moved quickly. Despite everything, it was the wolf that Emma found herself fascinated by. She tried to figure out why the wolf had started to become a near-permanent fixture in her mind and what purpose it served this time. The constant companionship of the wolf stirred up thoughts that she couldn't place or remember.
She couldn't figure out if it was the way the wolf walked or even if it was the color of the wolf's fur. While both things seemed important, she found herself more fascinated by the wolf's eyes. They were so incredibly familiar and foreign that she was sure she had seen them many times before, but she didn't know the wolf.
Emma awoke as quickly as she had fallen asleep. Her eyes opened slowly, and she realized she hadn't been asleep for long at all. The fire was still brightly lit, and the television was still on and playing the New Year's broadcast they had settled on. She peered at the clock with bleary eyes – 12:05. A jolt went through her stomach – 1992 was finally over.
"Well, happy New Year, little one," Remus said softly, brushing back the hair that had fallen in front of Emma's face. "How was your cat nap?"
Rubbing her eyes, Emma began to turn her head to look up at Remus. "It was fine," she started to say, but her breath caught in her throat as she met his gaze. The eyes looking at her now were the same as the wolf in her dream. The realization was both relieving and unsettling because she couldn't understand why. A part of her mind began to drift, thinking of the things she had researched and Remus's explanation of his scars, but she still couldn't be sure. He had never said, always seeming to stop before fully answering her questions, but that didn't mean anything. She sat up quickly, trying to push away the prickling of her mind as she tried to process everything.
"Is everything okay?" Remus asked, concerned.
"Yeah, I just uhm, thought of some schoolwork I didn't get to finish," Emma muttered.
"I thought you finished everything?"
"I forgot to do something. It's stupid, I just need to get it done. Emma stood up and flashed Remus an apologetic smile. "I should probably do it before I forget," she said, heading towards her room. "Happy New Year, love you!"
"Love you, too," Remus said back.
All too quickly, the morning to return to Hogwarts arrived. Emma woke up with her stomach in knots at the idea of having to leave the safety of the cottage. Still, she was excited to see Persephone again. She struggled through breakfast, mostly pushing around her eggs and nibbling at her bacon.
Emma returned to her room, dressing slowly and reluctantly. She sat down on her bed, staring at the bag that she had picked out yesterday and had painstakingly packed. It was a brown leather messenger bag that was similar to her other one, but a little bit larger. It had an undetectable extension and featherlight charm so that it was a lot easier for her to carry, and she was grateful to have it. She insisted on trying to pay for it herself, but of course, Remus heard nothing of it as he told her that he needed to replace the one she gave to Persephone for Christmas.
She sighed, trying to pull herself together so that the journey back to Hogwarts wasn't terrible. It wasn't that she didn't want to go back, especially now that she and Persephone were on good terms – excellent terms, really. Emma was just worried that she would fall victim to Jocelyn all over again when she was just beginning to feel like herself again. Or as close to herself as she could be.
"Are you all packed?"
Emma turned to face Remus, who stood in her doorway, his hands in his pockets. "Unfortunately," she said with a sigh.
Remus smiled knowingly. "Do you mind joining me in the living room? I want to talk to you."
"I'll be there in a minute," Emma answered quietly. Remus nodded and left.
With reluctance, Emma got up from her bed. She wasn't sure what Remus would even want to talk about since it felt like all they had done the past few days was talk. They talked about how she was feeling, the classes she thought she would want to take her third year, and how to try to manage her anxiety. There had been a conversation where Remus had asked her if she was suicidal that had given her pause. It was one of their more difficult and awkward conversations, but after multiple reassurances, the topic was dropped. She wasn't sure that she could have another conversation like that one again.
When Emma arrived in the living room, Remus was sitting on the couch. A box sat in front of him on the table, drawing Emma's attention. "Come sit," he said, patting the spot right next to him.
Emma eyed the box suspiciously but sat down next to Remus. "What did you want to talk about?" Emma asked.
"There are a few things, actually," Remus said. "First, I want to tell you how proud I am of you."
"Why?"
"I know that things haven't been easy, and you've been trying really hard."
"Oh," Emma said quietly.
"You seem disappointed. Why?"
"I'm not," she said, looking down at her hands. "I just feel that it's silly for you to be proud of me."
"How could I not be proud of you? Sweetheart, I told you nothing is going to change overnight."
"I know, but I'm scared…"
"It's okay to be scared. I'd be more worried if you weren't," Remus admitted. "Sweetheart, can you promise me something?"
"What?"
"Promise me that you won't push your friends away. Let them in so they can help you."
Emma looked up at Remus, face blank. She looked ready to argue but changed her mind and nodded. "I promise." She looked curiously at the box on the table. "Why is there a box sitting on the table?"
Remus smiled. "It took you longer than I thought to bring it up," he said, pulling the box onto his lap and carefully opening the top so that Emma couldn't peer in. "Just a few things I thought you might like. You're not allowed to look until you get back to your dorm."
He reached into and pulled out something made of grey fabric, reminding Emma of her Hufflepuff cardigan. It wasn't until Remus draped the fabric over her shoulders and took in the red and gold striping that she realized that's exactly what it was. "A certain someone I know enjoys stealing my cardigans," he said, taking in Emma's puzzled expression.
"But…this was yours – and Gryffindor! I'm not –" She started to pull the cardigan off her shoulders and hand it back to Remus, but he put it back.
"You are the bravest little Hufflepuff I have ever met. You more than deserve to wear Gryffindor's colors," Remus said, gently taking Emma's arms and pulling them through the sleeves. "I didn't understand why you were sorted into Hufflepuff when you wrote to tell me. It didn't seem right to me. I was so sure you were going to be placed in Ravenclaw with how smart you are. It took me a while, but I think I understand it now."
"What do you mean?"
"You, my dear, exhibit the qualities of each of the houses."
"How?"
"I seem to recall you telling me that the Sorting Hat said you would do fine in whichever house you belonged to," Remus said, smiling slightly as he rolled up the sleeves of the cardigan. He probably should've tried to find one of his first-year cardigans instead. "I seem to recall what you wrote to me. Do you?"
"Not really," Emma admitted, picking up the hem of the cardigan and brushing her fingers over the red and gold stripes.
"The hat told you that you have a desire to prove yourself and that you have a thirst for knowledge. The hat also said that you're loyal and that you would do anything to protect the people you love."
"But then why was I placed into Hufflepuff," Emma asked quietly. "I don't feel like I belong there. I did, but now I don't.
"Well, let's backtrack a little. You possess the wit and creativity of a Ravenclaw. You're constantly thinking of new ideas and creating a new world for yourself. As we've learned, you enjoy drawing, and the things that you've drawn over the past few days show me how much of a creative mind that you have." Remus chuckled and shook his head. "You have an awful lot of Slytherin's ambition, and that's a wonderful quality to have."
"But Slytherins are considered the bad house."
"Do you consider Persephone bad?"
"No…"
"It's true that Slytherin has produced a majority of dark witches and wizards, but not all of them are bad. You're not afraid to do what it takes to get what you want, and that's important."
Emma frowned slightly. "What about Gryffindor?"
"Ah, yes. Well, you're very, very brave. You've gone through so much, and you still continue to fight. I'm sure if it came down to it, you would fight for your friends no matter what."
"Maybe," Emma said quietly, glancing up at Remus before looking away with a sigh.
"'Maybe?' I have no doubts about it," Remus said, gently taking her face in his hands so that she looked at him. "And you're a Hufflepuff because you're hardworking and, for the most part, patient." Emma huffed at that, knowing that her patience had been non-existent lately. "But you were placed in Hufflepuff because you're everything Hufflepuff values and so much more. However, I strongly believe that you have a lot of Gryffindor in your heart. You're daring and you're trusting."
Remus leaned down and kissed Emma's forehead. "You are growing up to be a remarkable young woman, an absolutely brilliant witch, and I so desperately hope that you'll see that in yourself." He pulled her into a tight hug. "You have so much to give to the world, little one, and we are so lucky to have you in it."
Emma pulled herself out of Remus's grip and gave him a small smile. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to say to that and just looked over at the clock. "I think we should probably leave," she said reluctantly.
With a quick look at the clock, Remus sighed. "I suppose you're right."