TW: self-harm
Two weeks felt like an eternity when one wasnt't at all sure of what they were. It took less than two minutes for Emma to revert to self-destructive habits. Time passed quickly and far too slowly for Emma's liking, and she found herself wanting the entire school year to be over. She didn't want to have to see Remus anymore.
The night she left Remus's office was difficult. She must have looked scary as anyone she encountered immediately jumped out of her way as she stormed down to the dorms. Within the confines of the dorm, she flung her bag on the floor, closed the curtains, jumped into her bed, and just laid there. As an afterthought, she pulled out her wand, cast a silencing spell, and screamed. She didn't know what else to do.
There had been several flaws in her plan that she didn't consider in her anger. For one, she didn't have any of her clothes as she had them moved into her private room. A few of her belongings remained in the dorm, but her clothes all stayed in her room. Her second issue was that she had come to rely on the bluebell flames. The nice part of the third year and up dorms were the beds were situated into the walls like little burrows, and she wouldn't have needed to worry about disturbing her dormmates. However, she didn't have her flames, and she would have to rely on the single window that sat over her bed. Third, she was starving, but she couldn't convince herself to get up or to really care.
She stared at the ceiling, half in tears as she waited for night to finally come. Her skin was prickly from her anxiety, and she wanted to scratch, but she didn't want to make things worse. Emma couldn't figure out if she was angrier at herself or with Remus. All she knew was that she was confused. Fuck Remus being so incredibly like himself and fuck everything about her entire existence.
Sometime after midnight, Remus must have discovered Emma's issue as a house-elf startled her out of her half-asleep thoughts. The oil lamp on her nightstand had been lit at some point and cast a warm glow around the space. The tiny elf awkwardly carried Remus's battered suitcase on its head, which Emma took right away. It was a wonder the poor thing could even manage to hold it up.
"Thanks," she muttered to the elf that was watching her with its large bulbous eyes. Emma could never figure out if the elves were male or female until they spoke.
Emma placed the suitcase on her bed with a sigh, carefully flipping the latch. It wasn't all of her clothes, of course, but Remus seemed to have a knack for picking out the things she would want the most. It could easily be stretched out for a month if she had her clothes laundered frequently. She took her clothes out, trying to take stock of what was there and immediately blushed.
"Oh, bloody hell," she muttered, realizing that Remus had to not only pack knickers for her but bras. The knickers had been one thing, having already dealt with him washing her clothes for the first year, but dear Merlin, imagining the man having to pack her bras? That was too much.
Emma had drawn the line when she got her first bra and forced Remus to teach her how to wash her clothes magically, so he didn't have clean hers as well. She could only imagine him trying to figure out how to pack them correctly so that they weren't damaged. The entire thing was both horrific and terribly funny. She tried to bite back her laughter, but only managed to sound like a trumpeting elephant. There was no use in being embarrassed about trivial things such as underwear at the cottage.
"Does Miss Emma need anything else?" the elf asked, making Emma jump.
"Oh, Merlin, no," Emma said, quickly pulling the rest of the suitcase's contents out. "Just hold on a mo'." She was about to just tip the case over to divest it from its load, but she was glad that she didn't. She would have upset the jar of blue flames, and though it was sealed tightly shut, she didn't want to disturb the balance of the magic. With a sigh, she placed the jar on her nightstand and continued on.
Emma blinked at the last few items in the suitcase. There was a thick envelope and two bars of Honeydukes chocolate sitting on top of the jumper she stole the most from Remus. She stared at them for a moment, before taking them out as well and setting them aside. Emma took a moment to take in the hastily scrawled note on the front of the envelope – 'Read only when you're ready.' What if she was never ready?
Closing the suitcase carefully, Emma brushed her fingers over the peeling letters and handed it back to the elf. "You can just bring this back to him, thank you," Emma said, watching as the elf disappeared.
She peered at the items spread out on her bed and slowly began to put them away in her dresser. Another pop jarred Emma back out of her thoughts with a small shout as the same elf returned with a plate with two sandwiches on it and a note.
"Mister Remus said that Miss Emma didn't have dinner tonight. Mister Remus asked Zeeley to bring Miss Emma a sandwich and his note. Zeeley brought two just in case."
"Erm," Emma stared at the plate and took it from the over-expectant elf. "Thank you. I'll bring the plate back in the morning."
"Miss Emma needn't worry. Zeeley will come back later."
Emma watched the elf disappear with an alarmingly loud crack, and looked at the plate in her hand, frowning as her stomach rumbled. She really was hungry. Curious about the note, Emma put the plate down so she could pick it up.
'I know that you're angry with me, and I understand. I do not blame you. I just ask that you please take care of yourself. If you decide that you want nothing to do with me, I will understand. Just know that I love you. X.'
Emma had just finished reading the note, frustrated tears in her eyes when Zeeley returned with another pop.
"Zeeley is sorry for scaring Miss Emma," the elf said, holding out a small vial of purple liquid with yet another note in her tiny hands. "Mister Remus asked that I bring you this."
"Thanks," Emma huffed, taking the vial. "If he asks you to do something else, please don't listen to him. I'm going to bed."
The elf gave Emma a nod and disappeared once more.
"Bugger," Emma grumbled, unfurling the note from the vial.
'I thought you might appreciate Dreamless Sleep for the night. X.'
That left Emma feeling at a loss. She lifted the vial up, swirling it curiously. It had been months since she had the potion, and it was tempting.
She stared at the vial for a few moments longer before tucking it into a drawer with the rest of her things. Tonight wasn't the night to use it.
Emma dropped all of the responsibilities she was meant to have, much to the ire of most of her professors. The first week wasn't terrible, but it was noticeable to anyone who knew what she was meant to be doing. She refused to walk with anyone, skipped all of her check-ins with Remus, and readily skipped out on their Friday session. One week after finding out the truth, Emma wasn't at all ready to speak to him. She still hadn't read his letter.
She couldn't find it in herself to eat, readily skipping mealtimes in favor of staying in the dorm. Sleeping at night had been plagued by her nightmares again, keeping her up well into the morning. Fenrir only seemed to haunt her dreams more now, the scenarios getting increasingly grotesque or downright terrifying. If Emma had a Galleon for each time Fenrir bit her in her dreams, she was sure that she would be rich.
The dark circles that had appeared around her eyes around the full moon never seemed to go away. Even makeup wasn't doing much to cover them. Between not eating or sleeping, she looked eerily like she had just before the Christmas holidays the previous year. The glow that had returned to her skin was dull, just like her eyes.
The moment people started to comment on it, Emma felt herself shutting down. Just like the previous year, Persephone was angry with her, but now there were others. It had somehow become a group effort to fix her, and Emma hated it.
Neville came up to her several times, bringing her fruit in an attempt to get her to eat something. Cedric tried to gently convince her to speak to Remus multiple times. Fred and George, much to Emma's annoyance, somehow managed to get Emma and Remus in the same place numerous times. Caspian tried to convince Emma to curl up on the couch with him, trying to get her to at least sleep at night. Even worse, even Draco tried to persuade her to just "do something" because he didn't like what he was seeing. If Emma thought her peers were bad, nothing compared to the rest of her professors.
Binns was never an issue since he very rarely knew what was going on in his class; however, the others weren't so oblivious. Trelawney was irate that she kept falling asleep in the middle of lessons, but the heat and the perfumes made her sleepy. Hagrid would look at her and shake his head, but he was too busy worried about Buckbeak to comment. Emma was nearly positive that Babbling spoke to Remus multiple times, but never made direct comments to Emma since Hermione seemed to take that upon herself.
Flitwick was generally less than pleased, but he at least tried to be helpful and offer snacks. Snape seemed to enjoy Emma's miserable attitude and enjoyed taking points away each time she would accidentally start to doze off. His comments were more biting than usual. McGonagall and Sprout, on the other hand, were less than thrilled. They had all but confronted Emma together with threats of going over Remus's head and having her admitted to St. Mungo's. They didn't realize that Emma knew that Remus wouldn't dare let that happen without him speaking to her first.
That was the weird part of it all, though. Remus never said a word to her the entire time, not about her behavior, at least. He would offer corrections to her work, but other than that, he never pushed her. The only thing that separated her from any other student was the way Remus would touch her shoulder softly to wake her up when she inevitably fell asleep. It was a wonder that he even did that because she had been saying some outright vile things under her breath about him as he passed. It felt wonderful to say in the moment, but she felt guilty about it after. If she hurt him in any way, he hid it exceptionally well. The growing look of concern on his face each time he saw her wasn't hidden well at all.
The second week went much the same as the first, but Remus increased his efforts in trying to get her to at least eat. On Monday, he left her two apples on her desk, but Emma refused to take them. On Thursday, when Emma was really starting to feel the worst of things, he left her an apple with peanut butter. That had almost been tempting because she loved peanut butter, but she left that as well. The next day, during their double where Emma was struggling to stay awake listening to him lecture, he left her a bar of Honeydukes chocolate. It was a peace offering, but she didn't want it.
Emma didn't want a peace offering. She wanted a sincere and honest apology from Remus. He had kept so much from her and had lied to her for months. It had become clear to her that he kept the information to himself for his benefit and not hers. The trust she thought they shared wasn't as strong as she thought, and it broke her heart. He was meant to be the one that she could trust no matter what, but she was beginning to have her doubts. Did he even really love her like he said?
She was startled out of her third nap that class by Remus's hand on her shoulder again. It was frustrating to her how easily Remus's voice just put her to sleep without fail. Emma frowned as Remus leaned down next to her, his eyes meeting hers for the first time in days.
"Emma, a word after class, please," he whispered to her, the worry evident in his voice as he searched her face. Emma stared back, her brow furrowing slightly, but she nodded. He sighed, giving her shoulder a squeeze before standing up to continue the rest of his lecture.
It had been the first time he had said anything directly to her since their last conversation, and she regretted agreeing. Perhaps she could just slip out with the rest of the class, but the way he kept himself close by told her she had no chance. He wasn't going to let her leave without her hearing what he had to say.
Not wanting to deal with Remus meant that the rest of the class flew by far quicker than Emma would have wanted. She didn't even get the chance to consider sneaking out as Remus had kept a firm grip on her shoulder just before the bell went off. Just like she thought, he wasn't going to let her leave right away.
Persephone cast them a curious look, but Emma rolled her eyes in response. It wasn't as though Emma would have gone to dinner anyway. She pursed her lips with an aggravated huff at Emma and left with the rest of the class.
When the class finally emptied out, Remus sighed and crouched down next to her. He took her chin gently in his hand to turn her face to look at him.
"You haven't been sleeping at all, have you?" he asked softly. Emma scowled at him, and Remus sighed again, letting go of her chin. He stood up, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I suppose that was rather foolish of me to ask. Did you ever take the Dreamless Sleep I sent you?"
Emma glanced up at him as she started to put her things away and shook her head. When Remus didn't say anything, she looked back up at him.
"Is that it?" she finally asked.
"No," Remus said after a moment. "I wanted to give you fair warning that I'm at the end of what I can reasonably do to keep you from being admitted to St. Mungo's. I'm afraid that there have been several complaints about your behavior over the past few weeks and if Professor Dumbledore has to step in…"
That made Emma's blood run cold, and the sudden rush of nervous adrenaline coursing through her veins made her incredibly dizzy. It was like all of her blood had been siphoned from her brain, and it left her feeling foggy. "I thought you had the final say," Emma said quietly. "You said –"
"I can only do so much, Emma," Remus said softly. "Any decision I make can be overridden by Professor Dumbledore. As your..." Remus hesitated, pulling a hand free of his pocket to rub the back of his neck. He cleared his throat and continued, "As your father, the only option I'll only be left with is to send you home if it gets to that point. I know that you're angry with me, but you can't keep doing this."
"It's not as though it really matters," Emma said bitterly, looking down at her feet.
"It doesn't really matter? Emma, do you really still not see how many people care for you? No one wants to see you like this again," Remus bent down to be level with Emma. "There are so many people that are worried about you. Be mad at me all you want, but don't do this to yourself. You're not just hurting yourself; you're hurting others as well."
Emma shook her head, avoiding Remus's eyes. She didn't want to hear any of this. "Is that all? I'd like to leave now," she said sharply.
"I suppose," Remus said quietly, standing back up and stepping aside for Emma to leave.
She stood up quickly, pulling her bag onto her shoulder, and nearly fell over from her dizziness. Remus grabbed her elbow to steady her, and Emma ripped it out of his grip with a growl.
"Don't touch me," she snarled with a sharp glare. Without another word, Emma left and made her way to the dorms.
One of the most significant issues Emma had always known about herself was when she was overly stressed, she internalized everything. She refused to let her emotions be seen and became a frenzied ball of chaotic thoughts and irrational actions. Everything had built up to a point where she knew that she needed to release the energy, but Emma wasn't entirely sure if she wanted to go down that route again.
Everything was too hard for her to process. Remus being a werewolf was never an issue, and she was sure that he thought it probably was. No, her problems were of herself again. She felt equal parts disgust and self-loathing that no matter what, she was always going to be a freak. She was neither werewolf nor entirely human anymore. She suffered as though she had the full disease, and the worst part of it all was there was a strong possibility she was alone.
She had, against her knowledge, become some freakish science experiment, and it was eating away at her. Regardless of the fact it kept her alive, she hated it. It wasn't fair.
The moment she made it back into the dorms, she ripped open her nightstand to pull out one of the razors she had stashed at the beginning of the year. If Remus had noticed their absence, he never commented on it. She changed quickly, cast a silencing charm, sat down on her bed, and set the razor in front of her and just stared at it.
Remus's information had made her nervous and terrified. She didn't particularly want to have to go home, although she was sure that meant living with her grandfather. That idea could possibly be all right, but she really didn't want to have to go to St. Mungo's. Her mind was a whirlwind of frazzled thoughts. Everything about her hurt, both mentally and physically. Her self-imposed hunger strike left her stomach feeling like a gaping cavern. Her lack of sleep made her emotions and thoughts echo through her being a million times worse.
The sky outside her window had gone dark, leaving her only light source as the blue flames. Emma's heart was racing, and her foot was shaking in a chaotic rhythm as she tried to work through her thoughts. With a frustrated groan, Emma shoved the heels of her palms into her eye sockets until she started seeing different colors. She needed help.
So, Emma did the only rational thing in her mind – she picked up the blade.
It had felt like forever since Emma found herself in this exact position. She rolled up her left sleeve slowly, analyzing all of the previous scars from the last time she'd cut. Her old injuries reflected in the shine of the blade lit up by the cool blue light being cast in her direction. Disgust filled her stomach, and the acidic tang of it crept up her throat. Her scars were ugly, and the last one she had inflicted at the end of May was still slightly pink. It had never quite faded like the others, and she hated it.
Taking a steadying breath, Emma ran the blade across her skin, her breath coming out in a relieved hiss. She missed this. The razor was so much smoother than the scissors she used to use, and the release was intoxicating. How did she ever stop doing this?
A breathy laugh escaped her lips as she watched her blood pool within the cut. It was still red, just as she'd thought. For a moment, she thought it might have been black from the curse. That would have been a fascinating story to try to explain.
Rather than dwell on the color of her blood, Emma moved the blade to a new section to cut. She added another cut and then two more, the tension she held finally leaving her body. This was precisely what she needed. This was nice, and she was entirely in control of what happened. It was everything she wanted it to be and more.
She was in the process of adding another cut when a loud noise across the dorm room made her slip up. She cut far deeper than she intended to and fuck, it hurt. The blood flow was still slow, which was a relief, but it throbbed and left a painful ache. It was with complete and utter horror that Emma realized that she had absolutely nothing to try and fix it with. She had returned the bottles of Dittany and Murtlap to Remus months ago. Now she wished that she hadn't.
"Fuck," Emma whispered to herself, the disgust thick in her voice. She wiped the razor off on the small towel she had brought with her and tucked the blade back in the drawer of her nightstand. "Fuck!"
She had felt fantastic only moments before, but seeing the way her blood was pooling on her wrist suddenly made her ill. She wasn't any better than she was previously, and this was proof of it.
Emma ran her shaking right hand through her hair, trying to figure out what to do. Her wrist was hurting something fierce, and her nerves were catching up to her quickly. She wasn't sure whether her trembling was over what she had just done or the culmination of everything she had been doing. She wasn't sure that she wanted to really know, all Emma knew was that she needed help.
She couldn't go to Pomfrey in this state. The matron of the hospital wing had been trying to get ahold of her for the past two weeks, and Emma absolutely fled at each sign of the woman. If Emma went to her, then she was near positive she would call Dumbledore down. She couldn't go to any of the other professors as they would do the same thing. Snape was possibly the only exception, but she would never go to him. That left her only option as Remus.
The crippling look of disappointment on his face nearly kept Emma rooted to the spot, but she looked at her wrist and groaned. She had no choice.
For a brief moment, she considered trying to figure out the spell to fix things herself, but her medical knowledge didn't extend that far. All she had done with Pomfrey that year was brew potions and hadn't been actively assisting like she had the previous year. Unable to do much else, Emma grabbed the towel and wrapped it around her wrist as best as she could. Dressed in just her pajamas, Emma crept out of the dorm, through the common room, and out into the corridor.
Luckily for her, it seemed as though Hogwarts knew what she needed that night. She made it to the marble staircase with no issues, a miracle on its own. As long as she didn't meet someone on the stairs and as long as the stairs remained in place, she would be all right.
Emma hissed as the dull ache in her wrist grew, and she clamped her hand tighter over the spot where the cuts were. Dizziness threatened to take over by the time she reached the second floor landing. She just needed to go one more floor, but it seemed like a daunting task. Why did it hurt so terribly? What if she had done far more than she thought? What if she…Emma couldn't allow herself to go down that train of thought.
Now, even more nervous, Emma forced herself up the next set of stairs. The landing couldn't have come soon enough. Concerned by the sudden warmth that touched her hand, Emma forced herself to look down and nearly fainted. She had started to bleed through the towel.
With a whimper, Emma forced herself to straighten up and walk down the hall to get to the Defense classroom. She could only hope that Remus was still up because she had no idea what time it was. When she arrived, she found herself grateful for the fact most of the doors at Hogwarts were latches and not knobs. She was too afraid to take her hand off of her cloth-covered wrist. It took a bit of effort, but Emma managed to twist herself so she could use her elbow to drop the latch and pull open the door.
"Emma?"
Emma's gaze flew up to the front of the classroom, where Remus was sitting at his desk. She hadn't bothered to look up when she entered the room and immediately froze where she was. Now what should she do?
Remus was sitting up slowly, as though he had fallen asleep where he was. His hair was mussed, and his shirt sleeves were rolled up high, and a quill was still in his hand. Was this how his weekends without her always were? Emma wondered to herself.
His expression was wary for a moment as if he didn't believe she was actually there, before shifting to a welcome surprise. That surprise was almost immediately washed away as he sat up straighter, worry taking over as he processed what happened.
He was calm as he rushed over to where Emma stood. He put an arm around her to help guide her further into the room and up the stairs to the office. Remus sat her down in the armchair by the fireplace, reigniting the flames to bring warmth back into the cold room. She obediently placed her arm into Remus's outstretched hand like she'd done several times before so he could investigate what she'd done. He frowned slightly as he glanced at her bloodied hand and the state of the towel but said nothing.
Remus unwrapped her arm, setting the towel down on his desk and barely flinching as he studied the cuts. Emma stared up at him for a few moments before casting her gaze towards the fire. She didn't want to see the look of disappointment when it came.
"Keep your arm up," Remus said softly, releasing his hold on Emma's arm. "I'll be right back."
It was incredibly embarrassing for Emma that Remus talking to her nearly broke her down into tears. She did not want his steadfast kindness to be her downfall, and she quickly blinked back her tears. Emma was angry at him, but she needed his help. It was a complicated situation for her to be in.
"You did a number on yourself this time cariad," Remus said when he returned to the office. Emma glanced over at him, and then she looked at the washcloth and basin in his hand. The level cadence of his voice helped to assuage some of her fears, but it threatened to break her angry resolve.
That anger slowly gave way to guilt as Remus knelt down in front of her, setting the bowl next to him. He took her blood-covered hand and cleaned it off gently with the warm cloth. Remus had clearly done this far too many times. He then proceeded to clean her cuts, frowning as he could finally see what she had actually done. Not wanting to watch anymore, Emma turned her face back towards the fire, but not before noticing the bowl at Remus's side.
Her breath hitched in her throat as she saw the water had changed from a crisp, clear color, but was now stained with red. That same incredibly overwhelming feeling of drowning that she experienced at her mother's wake was looming over her. She couldn't breathe anymore, she was drowning. Why was she still like this?
A finger gently cupped her chin, pulling her gaze away from the basin. Emma reluctantly met green eyes that were full of concern and full of love, and she felt her lip begin to quiver traitorously.
"Breathe," Remus said calmly. "Keep your focus on me. Take a deep breath."
That was something she could do, she thought. Emma tried to take in a deep breath, but her breath caught again. She tried once more, only to stop half-way through. She was fighting a losing battle and doing it spectacularly.
"It's all right," Remus reassured, taking in a long, exaggerated breath and letting it out slowly. "Can you do exactly what I just did for me?"
Emma wasn't sure that she could. Her thoughts were too muddled, her brain too foggy, but she tried again. Instead, a pathetic and pleading whine escaped her lips when she couldn't figure out how to breathe. Who forgot how to breathe?
Remus still seemed unbothered as he took her right hand and pressed it to his chest right over his heart. He held her hand there, and Emma went to recoil, knowing her hand had been blood-stained, but she was frozen. His heartbeat, erratic like her own, betrayed his outward appearance. He was scared, too.
"Try again. Follow my breathing. Deep breath in, and then out," Remus instructed as if it were just another one of his lessons. He took another deep breath in and let it out slowly, keeping his eyes on hers. "You can do it, sweetheart."
It took Emma a few tries, but with Remus's gentle urging, she figured out what to do. The feeling of the steady rise and fall of Remus's chest beneath her hand was surprisingly helpful, but his heartbeat made her worried. That was her fault, but she couldn't focus on that right now.
"Perfect," Remus praised, finally letting go of her hand. "Keep your hand right there and close your eyes. Don't pay attention to what I'm doing and just focus on how it feels as I breathe."
Panic threatened to take over again, but she nodded. Closing her eyes, Emma tried to keep herself focused enough to follow his breathing. Deep breath in, slowly out…perhaps she wouldn't drown after all.
"I'm going to apply Dittany now, okay cariad?"
Emma wasn't sure how much time had actually passed as it felt like an eternity before Remus spoke again. The smell of the Dittany hit her nose, and she frowned but nodded. She braced herself, anticipating the hissing burn as it healed her cuts, but it wasn't as terrible as she remembered. It felt nothing like the last time it had been used on her skin.
And then her hands were placed gently in her lap, and Remus was gone. She opened her eyes, confused for a moment. She searched for the basin and the towel that had been set aside, but everything was gone. Not sure where to look, Emma decided to look at the new pink marks lining her wrist. Emma brushed a finger over the sensitive skin and shivered at the shooting pain. The cuts were painful to touch, and it bothered her, but once again, she had done this to herself. She was so focused on looking at what she had done that she didn't realize that Remus had returned. He knelt down on the floor in front of her, gently turning her face to look at him.
"You were doing so well," he said gently. His gaze was sympathetic and warm and not at all accusing and disappointed like she expected. "What happened? What can I do for you? How can I help?"
That was far too many questions at once for Emma to even consider answering. How was she supposed to be able to explain that the past two weeks had been the worst she'd had in a while? How was she supposed to tell him that she was so tired that she could fall asleep right there, and she wanted to be mad? How could she say to him that now she couldn't be mad at him because he was still kind and gentle with her even after she had been miserable to him? She couldn't.
"You're exhausted," Remus said with a sigh, cupping her cheek. He glanced down at his watch before meeting Emma's eyes again. "We don't have to talk about this tonight, but we do need to talk."
That was something else to add to Emma's list of things she didn't want to do. She didn't want to have to talk to Remus. Instead, Emma broke down and finally began to cry after managing to hold her tears back for so long. Remus was quick to put his arms around her and hold her close just as he always did for her. Maybe he did love her even if he lied…
"I'm sorry," she managed to choke out as she cried on his shoulder.
"Hush, little one," Remus whispered, pressing a kiss to her hair. "You made a mistake – it's okay. Things spun out of your control. It happens, even to the best of us, and you have been under an incredible amount of stress. I understand."
Remus wasn't sure if that was the right thing to say, as it only made Emma begin to sob harder. Unsure of what else to do, he just held her a little tighter. The entirety of this situation was once again his fault because he let her spiral out in the hopes that she would come to him. While his plan had worked, it didn't work exactly how he wanted it to. Things should have never gotten this far, and it worried him.
As Emma's sobs finally subsided, he asked if she wanted to stay in her room. When he received a hesitant nod, Remus stood up, picking Emma up with him. On an average day, she would have complained about being picked up like a small child, but she was too tired to fight him. He tucked her into bed, conjured up another jar of blue flames for her, and brought her a sleeping draught, but she had fallen asleep before he returned.
Remus rubbed a hand over his face and tucked the draught in his pocket. He was also exhausted, but he was grateful to see Emma finally sleeping. Remus already knew Emma's inner turmoil after already going through this with her before. For her to fall asleep so easily was nothing short of a miracle. As relieved as he was, his fear overshadowed the feeling as he watched her for a few minutes.
He couldn't help the nagging feeling that things felt exactly like they were before everything fell apart. Emma, though she struggled, had made so much progress, but due to his carelessness, she had slipped even further backward.
The last thing he wanted to do was agitate Emma further, but things were going to have to change. It was going to be difficult for both of them, but it was needed. He couldn't stand the idea of actually losing her this time. He knew deep down that if things got that far again, he would, and it would be entirely his fault.