"Are you okay?" Persephone asked, carefully stabbing a bit of potato on her plate.

Dinner had been a much quieter affair than usual. It seemed as though Emma had mostly drowned out the din of the Great Hall as she lost herself in her thoughts.

"Yeah," Emma said, looking at the clock that hung behind the head table. It wasn't six yet, but she couldn't stand the idea of sitting in the Great Hall for much longer. "I, uhm, I should probably go. Dad didn't cancel for tonight."

"You didn't eat," Persephone said with a frown as she looked at Emma's empty plate.

"I'm not really hungry," Emma admitted, gathering her things. "Not after that class. Three hours of Snape in a row was too much. If I get hungry, I'm sure Dad can get something for me, or I'll just go to the kitchens later. I'm not too worried about it."

"You don't need someone to walk you?"

"No, it's fine."

"All right," Persephone said, pursing her lips. She didn't believe Emma in the slightest, but she wasn't going to push. "See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah," Emma said, rushing back out of the Great Hall quickly. She wanted to get changed, and she had some spare clothes in the dorm, but she couldn't convince herself to go. She needed to know the truth, and delaying it would do nothing.

Emma's walk back up to the third floor was slow. The longer she took, the more she could allow herself to think, but all too soon, she was back in the classroom. She crossed the length of the room and made it up the stairs to the office in even less time.

The door opened a quarter of the way before she had a chance to knock. "Come in," Remus croaked from the other side of the door.

Emma listened to the noise of Remus shuffling away from the door, a part of her wondering how he knew she was there. It was the first time that she didn't just stay with Remus after class, and she wasn't expecting him to be waiting for her. Then she realized why he had opened the door so quickly.

It's because he can hear you, stupid, Emma thought to herself bitterly as she slipped through the gap. She kept her head low as she closed the door behind her, not sure if she could look up at Remus. As the door clicked close behind her, she found that she couldn't take her hand off the handle. The air in the office was thick with tension, and Emma was afraid to wade through the fog. What if this changed everything even after telling herself it wouldn't?

"I don't believe that the door needs any assistance staying in its frame," Remus said softly, his voice unsteady. He sounded just as nervous as Emma felt.

"I know," Emma said, trying to force herself to let go of the handle and look at Remus. She dropped her bag by the door, not wanting to hold onto it any longer. It suddenly felt like a lead weight on her shoulder.

"Emma, please look at me."

There was a hint of pleading in Remus's voice that made Emma feel uncomfortable. It sounded terribly out of place coming from Remus. Even at his worst, he still sounded sure, but this was far from it. It was pained and terrified as if he couldn't get himself to say her name.

Emma looked up at Remus slowly, taking in his appearance. She had seen him after a full moon before, had seen how terrible he looked the first day of term, but this was completely different. She was positive that she had never seen Remus look quite like this before.

Remus's pale face somehow managed to look even whiter than usual, forcing the dark circles around his eyes to stand out like a mask. The bags under his eyes were puffier, almost as if he had been sick for weeks. His expression was alarmingly pained - regret and disgust and the hint of something else lying underneath the surface.

He leaned carefully against his desk, wincing as he did so. His heavy quilt from home wrapped around his shoulders, and he let it hang like a cloak. Emma nearly let out a snort, feeling as though she was looking at a caricature of herself as she often walked around the house that way.

It was strange for her to see him wearing flannel pajama bottoms and a grey t-shirt with bare feet. She was so used to seeing him already put together before she ever woke up, and she honestly couldn't recall him in pajamas even when she went to bed. He would change, of course, but it was often a variation of what he was already wearing just without the tie. Was this how Remus always looked when she wasn't home? Remus studied Emma carefully, cautiously. With a deep breath, Remus pulled his quilt off of his shoulders and began to fold it carefully.

Emma found herself staring at the lines of scarring on Remus's arms. The scarring was much worse than she thought and far more extensive than he had allowed her to see. When he had revealed more of his scars to her last year, it was to show her the horrors of Greyback, but this was so much more. The scars stuck out, agitated and raw against his pale skin. Her eyes finally settled on a crescent moon set of scarring on his left arm, and her stomach sank. It was stretched from age and growth, but she could recognize it for what it was. She had seen similar marks in the photos of the books that she poured through in her research.

Dragging her eyes away from the marks, she met Remus's gaze. The pained expression that had been there disappeared, and he was back to being a stone wall. With the quilt put aside, resting on the desk, there were no longer any barriers. The truth sat out in front of her. There was no more hiding.

"You look like shit," Emma said quietly, almost conversationally.

Remus let out a mirthless laugh. "I feel like shit," he said, a wry smile crossing his face. He crossed his arms over his chest. "I know what Professor Snape did today. He shouldn't have done that to you."

Emma was sure her expression mirrored Remus's as she took a similar stance. She didn't know what to do with herself, with her arms, with anything. "It's not as though it's the first time," she offered, looking down at her feet. "It's not going to be the last, either I'm sure. It's nothing new."

"You've known the entire time," Remus said after a long pause.

His tone wasn't accusing, nor was he asking, but it made Emma freeze as she met his gaze. "I've known what?"

"Emma," Remus said with a dark and bitter chuckle. "You haven't even bothered to come anywhere near me since you came into the room."

Emma paled, realizing that he was right. She hadn't taken another step further, instead choosing to remain close to the door. To run? For safety? She wasn't even sure of what her logic was. Remus was still Remus – werewolf or not; it didn't change the fact that he took care of her. It didn't change the fact that he was the kindest and gentlest soul she had ever met. Why was she acting like this? Emma took a few steps forward, swallowing hard as she held Remus's gaze. "I don't know what you're talking about…"

As if to prove a point, Remus took a step towards her. He let out a derisive breath as Emma took a step back and returned to his place, leaning against the desk. "How long have you known?"

Emma looked down at the floor and then found a book on the bookshelf to stare at. She didn't mean to shrink back from Remus, and Emma felt incredibly guilty. It was such a disturbingly reflexive action that she didn't even mean to do. She tried to read the title of the book and sighed. It was something written in German that she didn't understand. Probably some sort of specialized guide on other European magical creatures. Remus had a lot of those.

"Since my first year," Emma said quietly after a while. She reluctantly met Remus's gaze again.

Remus nodded slowly, seemingly resigned to that fact. "What made you realize that I'm a werewolf?"

There it was. Nearly three years of wondering and there it was. It sent a chill down Emma's spine. Her shiver was involuntary, and she felt even guiltier the moment she saw Remus's face fall.

"I don't blame you," he said with a tight smile. "I'm dangerous."

"You're not," Emma said quietly, hoping she sounded as honest as she felt. She didn't believe that he was dangerous at all. She took a few steps forward, making up for the distance that she had put between them.

"I'm a werewolf, Emma," Remus snapped, a harsh conviction in his voice. "I'm always dangerous."

Emma flinched back slightly at his words, startled by his sudden outburst. She had never been scared of Remus before, but the way his face flashed with unbridled anger was worrisome. She unwittingly found herself rooted to the spot, every part of her body poised and ready to run.

Remus recoiled as he saw the fear in Emma's eyes, immediately becoming disgusted with himself. Remus Lupin, the man who worked hard to keep his emotions and actions in check, felt as though he was about to unravel at the seams. This was not how the conversation should have happened.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice barely louder than a whisper. He looked away from Emma, pulling the quilt off the desk and letting it unfold so he could drape it back over his shoulders like a shield. He had wanted this conversation to be on his own time, not so shortly after the full moon. Remus had every intention of telling Emma and telling her soon, but that opportunity was now beyond lost. He should have realized something like this would happen.

"Why didn't you just tell me?"

This time Remus was reluctant to meet Emma's eyes. The hurt was evident in her voice, and that only added to the disgust he felt of himself. No explanation he could give would ever make up for hiding the truth from her, especially since she had known for so long. He could tell her it was to keep her safe, but that wasn't entirely true. Emma was smart and would see right through him if he wasn't honest with her.

"I was afraid," he said, letting the truth hang out in the open. He had no other explanation.

"Afraid of what?" Emma took a few more steps forward, leaving only a few feet of space between them. She wasn't quite willing to break through into his space and nervously started to rub her left arm.

"I was afraid that you would be scared of me," Remus admitted. He glanced down as he saw Emma rubbing her arms and frowned. "Did you hurt yourself again?"

"I thought we were talking about you," Emma said, a wry smile crossing her face as she looked down at her arm. "You know, it's hard to be scared of you when you're worried about whether or not I hurt myself. Werewolf or not, you're still you."

Remus was instantly reminded of being thirteen when a dark-haired, grey-eyed boy sat across from him and said those exact same words. It was weird to hear those words twenty years later coming from Emma. "I'm still dangerous," he sighed.

"I can hardly consider you dangerous when you've spent so much time being worried about me," Emma huffed. "Overbearing, maybe. Dangerous? Never. Buckbeak is scarier than you are."

That pulled an errant grin from Remus, but it faded quickly. He reached a tentative hand out, palm up – a remarkably unthreatening gesture. "May I see?"

With a sigh, Emma stepped closer and rolled up her sleeve. She extended her arm out for Remus to take, and just like he had done so many times before, he turned it so that the inside of her wrist was facing up. "They were worse an hour ago," Emma said, frowning slightly at how faded the scratches already looked. They had been angry and red, just beginning to cut through her skin. Remus's grip tightened convulsively on Emma's wrist, and he let go quickly, folding his arms over his chest.

"That's not the only thing I haven't told you," Remus said quietly.

"I doubt there's anything that you could tell me that's more dramatic than you being a werewolf," Emma said with a disbelieving laugh. "I'm fine with it; I just wish you would've said something earlier." Things were fine; they were fine. This was just another ordinary day, with just a new piece of information about her father. It didn't change a thing except give her a better understanding of who he was. She rolled her sleeve back down, but when she met Remus's gaze, the warmth in the room faded.

"I think you need to sit down."

Emma frowned, suddenly nervous. "Why?"

"Please, just sit. I don't know how you're going to react. I would much rather you be sitting."

Reluctantly Emma walked over to the armchair by the fire, hoping that being near the flames would warm her back up. Remus pulled one of the wooden chairs over and abandoned his quilt on the desk. He placed the chair down in front of Emma and sat down, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

"You are…different," Remus said slowly, trying to choose his words carefully. He let out a frustrated breath and rubbed his hands over his face. "But that doesn't make sense unless I explain other things."

"What other things?"

"I have to go back to before you were adopted," Remus said with a heavy sigh. "Every little thing I have done has been to avoid getting to this point, to avoid explaining what I've done, of what I am."

Emma leaned back in her chair, fixing Remus with a confused look. "You haven't done anything," she said quietly.

"I wish I could say that was true."

"Dad? What are you talking about?"

"I suppose that's where all of this begins," Remus said quietly, looking down at his hands clasped in front of him. "Well before then, really – before you were adopted. When we went through with the adoption, there had been a long period where I wasn't sure that it would be possible. Blood magic is very rarely done, mostly left to the goblins and their magic. A lot of the spell work is antiquated and very ritualistic, which I'm sure you realized. Still, I realized it needed to be done. The value of blood warding was a benefit that I wanted to have for you if the need arose. It was rather unfortunate to find out it was indeed going to be needed.

"I spent weeks researching after you wrote to tell me that you wanted to move forward with it. Of course, we could have just changed your name and be done with it, but I needed to make sure you had the most protection you could. However, blood adoptions are generally done as a three-step process.

"The first step involves the creation of the potion used during the ceremony. The second step is the blood donation, which we couldn't get around, but I conceded to it. It was required for the potion, and I couldn't find a suitable option to avoid it. The third step involves, well, it involves consuming the finished potion to complete the ceremony. It took me a very long time to find out that the third step wasn't required, provided both parties readily accepted the bond. It's not quite a full-strength bond, but it creates the tie, and that was what was needed."

"So, how does that work then?" Emma shifted in her chair, pulling her knees up to her chest. "I had researched blood adoptions myself after the fact and found that curious. I just didn't want to ask about it."

"Inhalation," Remus explained. "With some minor adjustments, the bond could be made by inhalation alone. It's not typical, it's not as strong, but it's possible with more potent brews. I didn't want to risk the possibility that my condition would pass to you."

"I guess that makes sense," Emma said quietly. "So, we're bound by magic, and by blood, but not really?"

"We are now," Remus said with a short laugh. His voice was full of disgust, and it left Emma feeling hurt and confused. Remus picked that up quickly and let out a sigh. "Emma, I love you more than anything in this world. I will never expect you to forgive me after this. I would never dare ask for your forgiveness as I don't deserve it, but I want you to know that I love you dearly. Even - even if you decide you want nothing to do with me, I am always going to love you no matter what."

Emma took a deep breath and nodded, her words failing her completely. What could Remus tell her that was so dramatic that he would say any of those things?

Remus studied Emma for a moment and took a steadying breath before speaking again. "After your suicide attempt, there were struggles to revive you. You had managed to poison yourself to the point that it was attacking your vital organs. You were alive, and everything was being done to counteract its effects, but we weren't sure how long your body would continue to fight. You were trying so hard to pull through, but the poison seemed to be working harder. It was on Elara's suggestion that we try a different route as nothing else seemed to be working. It was very evident that you needed a shove in the right direction, but you couldn't do it by yourself. We weren't sure that it would even work, and I was wholly against the idea when Elara told me.

"After every blood adoption, the potion created is kept. It's stored at both the Ministry and at St. Mungos. I'm not quite sure about the reasoning, but it's kept in stasis until needed. Elara suggested that the potion could possibly be the key to pulling you through."

"Why would she suggest the potion?"

"There were two reasons. Both rely on me and me alone because of what I am. Although, I'm almost positive that Elara would have done it herself if I didn't agree…"

What did the potion have to do with anything, and why did it rely on Remus? Emma blinked owlishly at Remus, not understanding.

After a few minutes of silence, Remus continued, "What is possibly one of the most important features of a werewolf's survival?"

The question was confusing to Emma, given the context of their conversation. "I imagine you're not referring to the ability to spread lycanthropy," she said, unsure of what he wanted her to answer.

"Not entirely, no. Although, to some degree, that plays a factor," Remus sighed. "The most important feature is the ability to heal. It's slow, but it's considerably faster than the average human's, magical or otherwise. We're forced to have our entire bodies destroyed – bones broken and reshaped, muscles torn, organs shifting to be that of a wolf. If we weren't able to heal, then we wouldn't survive. You wouldn't have survived."

Emma's eyes flicked to her arm, and her eyes narrowed as she looked back at Remus. "I still don't understand what you're trying to say. How would I not have survived?"

"Well, that's where possibly one of my biggest nightmares comes in – spreading my condition."

"But you didn't bite me. At least, I don't think you did," Emma let out a huff, almost tempted to look at her limbs to make sure that she hadn't missed something. "Not like I can remember much since I was out for most of it."

"No, I didn't bite you. The world would have to be ending before I considered the possibility of biting anyone, especially you. I would much rather die. However, I admit that I acted on pure selfishness when it came to you."

"If you didn't bite me, then I don't see what the problem is."

"Lycanthropy isn't spread only through bites, Emma."

There was that conviction to Remus's voice again. It only aided in the bone-chilling horror of what Remus was trying to convey. Emma knew that lycanthropy could be spread in other ways, but those other possibilities were far less researched. The rarity of it spreading outside of a bite was only documented in scratches or bites outside of the moon, but even that research was lacking. No one wanted to document the effects or get close enough to someone infected to find out.

Her eyes returned to her arm, and she rolled up her sleeve, gently brushing her fingers over the scratches she had made earlier. Even in the time they had been talking, the scratches had become even less pronounced. She swallowed hard, trying to mull over the thoughts that were spinning in her mind.

Realizing Emma wasn't going to say anything, Remus continued, "You had been out of the world for a week, and you weren't recovering. You were in a state of existence, but you weren't living." Remus let out a disgusted breath. "We weren't even sure what the potion would do or if it would even help. For all we knew, you would never wake up and be forced to transform with each moon and suffer. That very thought still haunts me but seeing you lying there, practically half-way to death...I couldn't do it. I had lost you once; I couldn't lose you again."

Emma met Remus's gaze, startled at the tears in his eyes. It took her off guard, and her stomach dropped. She found a spot on the floor to focus on instead and listened as Remus continued.

"I was desperate. It was the full moon the night I made my decision, I was tired, and I was scared. When the wolf – when Moony – is present, I don't think clearly. I always try to, but sometimes it still gets the best of me. I had somehow managed to convince myself it would be fine, that if I had done the unthinkable, I would figure it out. It no longer mattered to me as long as you were alive – that was all I could care about. I didn't bother to truly think of the implications of what I allowed to happen. It was selfish, and I am so sorry. If I could go back and do things differently…"

"You would have let me die?" Emma asked, cutting Remus off. It was the only thing that came to her mind, and a tidal wave of nausea hit her.

"I would have tried to find another solution," Remus said, sharply. "But if I had been in a stable state of mind, then yes, I would have learned to accept it if that's what would have happened. It would have been better than you being a werewolf and suffering every month."

Remus's declaration was like a slap in the face, and it stung more than Emma expected. Her eyes watered, and she blinked back her tears and took a steadying breath. It wasn't as if death wasn't her ultimate goal at the time, but the harsh truth that he would have let her go was painful. He said that he loved her, but that told her a completely different story. What was she supposed to believe? Emma absentmindedly began to scratch at her arms again until Remus reached out and pulled her hand away.

"Don't do that," Remus said gently. He let go once he was sure that Emma would stop scratching. "You'll make it worse. Even though you won't ever be a true werewolf, wounds you inflict on yourself by your own means might not ever heal properly. I'm not sure how it will work with you, and I would rather you not take the chance."

"I suffer anyway," Emma whispered. "I might not be a werewolf, but it's still hurt every month since…"

"I know," Remus said, the disgust returning to his voice. "Because we share the same blood, I've cursed you to a life of suffering, and I'm so sorry. I can guarantee that I'll be spending the rest of my life trying to figure out how to make it up to you."

Emma reluctantly met Remus's gaze as another thought came to mind. "It's not a coincidence that I look more like mum now…that I look like you."

"No."

"All of this is why I have weird cravings; why my food preferences have changed?"

"I wasn't sure you'd noticed," Remus admitted. "You never said anything."

"I couldn't figure out if I'd imagined it. It just seemed like something too weird for me to remember incorrectly, so I didn't question it too much. But…all of this is why that's changed?"

"Yes."

"And it's why I get so sick?"

Remus nodded slowly. Emma stared at Remus, not sure if she wanted to believe him. His being a werewolf was a far easier pill to swallow than finding out that she had lycanthropy in any capacity. The entire thing was bizarre, and she didn't think it was at all possible. She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat as another question burned at her thoughts.

"Because…because the adoption was fully completed…does that make me –?"

Something flashed behind Remus's eyes as he met hers. "It now makes you undeniably mine. A paternity test would show you as mine," Remus said quietly. He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. "In fact, it does."

Emma felt faint, and she now understood why Remus wanted her to sit. Rage was suddenly simmering just underneath the surface of her being. She wasn't even mad that he never told her that he was a werewolf anymore. Now she was furious that he had known what was wrong with her and kept it from her. He had known why she looked more like him but decided it wasn't important enough to explain it to her. In one moment, her entire life and her entire existence had changed to the point that her whole biology was different. The Emma that had once existed no longer did anymore. Even though she had no attachment to Jude in any capacity, and didn't mourn the loss of that connection, she suddenly found herself not knowing who she was. Though she didn't die, Emma suddenly felt as though a part of her did.

"You have let me go months feeling like I've gone mad," Emma said sharply. She stood up quickly, knocking the chair back. She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as she glared at Remus. "You let me go years not knowing the truth about you. You let me suffer for three months now without explaining to me why. There have been so many opportunities where you could have told me, but you went on as if nothing was wrong. Are you telling me that in all this time, you didn't trust me to know? That you were so selfish in your need to protect yourself that you decided my feelings weren't worth taking into consideration? I don't even know who I'm supposed to be anymore because apparently, that person doesn't exist."

Remus could only stare back at Emma for a moment, but he looked away, and that was all Emma needed to know.

"I can't believe you," Emma spat, angry tears filling her eyes. "I honestly can't believe you right now. You've gone on acting as if nothing has been going on, shoving a disgusting potion at me and telling me it would help." Emma let out a single bitter laugh, no longer able to process what was happening. She felt as though she was going completely mental. "What even is that potion, anyway?"

"It's Wolfsbane," Remus whispered.

"It's-it's the Wolfsbane Potion?" Emma took fistfuls of her hair into her hands and shook her head with another laugh. "That's absolutely bloody brilliant. So, correction – not only have you lied to me, but Elara has as well? You two have just been giving me the Wolfsbane Potion, and neither of you decided to say something? I can't believe either of you. I trusted the both of you - especially you. If you truly and honestly cared about me, you would have told me the truth from the start. I have never cared about the idea of you being a werewolf, but I do care that you never told me the truth about anything."

Emma kicked the chair further away and walked to the door, grabbing her bag roughly from the floor. She turned to shoot Remus a look and shook her head. "You don't love me like you say you do," Emma whispered, her voice breaking. "I can't be in this room with you right now. I'm going."

Emma flung the door open and stormed out of the room, and she was glad that Remus didn't follow. She didn't know what she would do when Monday came around, but she would figure it out when it did. For now, she just wanted to curl up and go to bed, and that was precisely what she would do.