Lu: Thank you for another review! I love the father-daughter moments, too. :) They're nice to write! Thank you for sticking around.

Guest: Is it all right if I call you Friend? I'm not sure what to write for you! :D Anyway - yes! I was glad to write a less Snape-like Snape, even if it's just for a moment. I think he can recognize when someone is interested in actually learning without mocking and responds in turn. I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter!

A/N: Fenrir Greyback is his own warning.

After Hufflepuff's miserable defeat in Quidditch the previous day, Emma was determined to enjoy her time in Hogsmeade. She had no idea what made Quidditch suddenly enjoyable, but she was sure a part of it had to do with George Weasley standing so close to her in the stands. Emma wasn't entirely sure if her cheeks were red from the cold or from having the red-head so close to her. She had spent the majority of Saturday night trying to figure it out to no avail.

With plans of meeting Persephone later in the day, Emma stepped into the village with the rest of her classmates. The air would soon be growing much chillier, and they all wanted to take advantage of the weather before it grew too cold. Emma just hoped that when she set foot into the village, things wouldn't dissolve into chaos like the first time.

Strolling down the High Street, Emma had to take a few steadying breaths. There was something that was made her nervous as she walked down the street. Emma wasn't sure if it was memories of her last visit that made her feel uneasy, but the atmosphere felt odd. Emma had to pause for a moment and look around, but all she could see were the smiling faces of other Hogwarts students.

Emma scanned the street, trying to study everything a little closer, trying to be more observant, but nothing seemed amiss. It felt almost like the night she ventured into the woods with Persephone. Emma had the overwhelming feeling of being watched, almost as if by Fenrir once more, but that was silly. Fenrir wouldn't dare set foot into the village and be so close to Hogwarts, would he?

She took another deep breath to try and calm her suddenly racing heart and peered down at the thin black band on her wrist. If anything went wrong, Remus would know. Whether he would come down to the village to meet her, she wasn't entirely sure. Remus was starting to look as if one strong breeze would knock him over. Even though she knew Remus was fine, he certainly didn't look it, and it made her a little worried.

Taking another look around, Emma moved her wand to the back pocket of her jeans and made sure her coat covered it. She had never been more grateful for the peacoat Lyall purchased her so she could keep her wand concealed. It would be far too much effort to try and undo the buttons of her coat if she needed it right away. Emma felt it was better to be safe than sorry, even though she knew she was okay. It had to be that she was nervous from her last trip – Sirius had scared her terribly that day.

She looked at one of the nearby clock poles and sighed. She had around an hour before she was meant to meet Persephone at the Three Broomsticks. With no Padfoot in sight, she decided to start her journey at the end of the street and work forward, which, to her delight, meant a leisurely stroll through Tomes and Scrolls. It was impossible to have too many books, and she was curious to see what they actually sold after missing out on it the previous month.

Emma walked at a slow pace towards the bookshop. She waved to people that she knew, paused by windows of Honeydukes, salivating over the sweets in the window, and just enjoyed the weather. The sky was overcast, threatening the first sprinklings of snow, and she found herself almost excited for it. There was something about snow that always made her happy.

"Lupin!"

Emma's head immediately shot up from where she stood in front of Scrivenshaft's. There was a bright red quill on display that had caught her attention because it reminded her of one of Fawkes's feathers. She looked around and frowned, not seeing anyone in the direction of where she heard the voice. Emma turned around to look at the quill again but was immediately yanked back and pulled away into a nearby alley. She was about to shout, but a hand clamped over her mouth, and she was held tight, her back pressed against someone's chest. With no time to react, Emma was practically lifted off the ground so her captor could whirl her around to face the back of the alley.

Was she being kidnapped in the middle of the day? And if she was, by who? Was this why she was so on edge?

"I'm sorry. I didn't want you to be seen."

Draco.

Emma exhaled and relaxed against Draco's chest, leaning back into him heavily; she should have recognized his cologne right away. She gently pulled his hand from her mouth. "You didn't have to grab me like that," Emma said, not letting go of Draco's hand. It was chilly in hers – he always had such cold hands. "Why did you pull me over here? Why didn't you want me to be seen?" Emma turned her head so that she could look up at Draco, but he was peering over his shoulder, staring hard into the street.

"Draco?"

"Shh," he whispered. "I'm waiting for him to leave. I don't know why he's here, but I don't think it would be good if he saw you."

As if reading her mind, Draco turned just enough so that she could try and look. People were moving quickly to either side of the streets with shouts, and it was making Emma nervous. This had to be why she felt odd walking into the village. She wanted Draco to move closer to the entrance of the alley so that she could see who it was. Anyone that was getting those reactions was clearly not good, and the fact Draco didn't want this person to see her made things worse. Her heart was beginning to race at the possibilities. It couldn't be…

"Just go with what I'm about to do," Draco whispered, whirling Emma around by her shoulders. Her green eyes met stormy grey with confusion, and he pressed himself up against her as he pushed her against the wall. A quiet gasp left her lips in shock, and then his mouth was on hers in no time at all.

What was happening?

All previous thoughts of what was happening on the street left Emma's mind. If Draco was willing to snog her in the middle of Hogsmeade, risking others seeing, she wasn't going to turn him down. They'd done this so many times in private that she couldn't help but wonder if he wanted to make their secret known. It was an incredibly silly way to reveal their secret, but not much made sense when it came to her relationship with Draco.

With his lips on hers, she had to admit to herself that she felt just a little guilty for avoiding him. As annoying as he had been with his constant teasing lately, he was an excellent kisser. Her hands slid up his chest and around to the back of his neck, pulling him a little closer. She smiled as his tongue swiped against her lips, and she permitted him access. Emma decided right then and there that Draco's cologne had to have some strange witch trapping pheromone because she was hooked.

Emma separated herself from Draco's mouth just enough to speak against his lips, "You didn't have to scare me like that. If you wanted to have a snog with me, all you had to do was ask."

The voice that spoke out with a slight growl made Emma's blood run cold. "And what if I were to ask, Pup?"

Emma pulled away from Draco with a gasp, her head turning to the entrance of the alley to meet Fenrir Greyback's gaze. Her breath caught in her chest as she stared at Fenrir, and she swallowed hard as the werewolf's eyes raked her entire body.

Apparently, Fenrir would step foot into Hogsmeade and be close to Hogwarts.

Fenrir loomed menacingly at the entrance of the alley; arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the wall. He was exactly how she remembered. Seeing Fenrir in the day was much different than in her lamplight, but no less terrifying. His long hair was once again pulled back, his amber eyes dark, calculating, and just as ravenous, and his face was once again covered in thick stubble.

The first time she had seen Fenrir, Emma didn't realize just how tall he was. He was as tall as Remus but built much differently. Remus was lean, but Fenrir was pure bulk, and it was clear that Fenrir liked to show it. He wore a black overcoat that was left open, revealing the rest of his clothing. The dark shirt he wore was stretched tight over his chest, but thankfully this time, his shirt was closed. Emma was sure that he kept his clothing tight on purpose; Fenrir liked to look imposing, and he did it well. His trousers stretched obscenely over his hips and thighs and were tucked into what looked like the same boots she saw him in last.

"Oh, don't stop on my account," Fenrir growled, a smile playing at his lips. "I was quite enjoying the show."

Emma wanted to say something, but she was too stunned to say a word. Her hands slid down from Draco's neck to rest somewhere on his chest, trying to figure out what to do. Draco gulped, meeting Emma's gaze with an almost pleading look. When he finally turned to Fenrir, his perfected sneer was on his face.

"Don't you have somewhere else to be, Greyback? Mudbloods to terrorize, perhaps?" Draco sneered. Emma had to resist the urge to glare at Draco for his word usage. They had heated arguments over how terrible the word was, but now wasn't the time to bring it up. She had more important things to worry about, and that was trying to form a plan. Unfortunately, nothing was coming to mind.

Fenrir's eyebrow raised, and his eyes raked slowly over Draco this time. "I think the only place I need to be is right here. I find myself fascinated. A Malfoy…with a Lupin." Fenrir tutted. "What would your father think if he knew?"

"Don't you dare bring my father into this, Greyback," Draco spat. "If my father found out that you were here –"

"What is Daddy going to do? No one would ever catch me," Fenrir growled. "And if they did, I'll make sure that I'm right outside your window."

"Draco, go," Emma said sharply, ducking her head to avoid looking at Draco's eyes. She didn't need him getting hurt because of her, even if it meant she had to deal with Fenrir alone.

"Emma?" Draco said, turning to Emma in alarm. "What are you –"

"Go," Emma said firmly, swallowing hard and meeting Draco's confused face. She took a deep breath, straightened up, and set her jaw. There was no way that Emma was going to let Fenrir get to her again. What did she have to lose? He already took everything away from her.

"But he –"

"Draco, I need you to listen to me and leave," Emma said slowly. She turned to Fenrir, feeling her lips curl into a sneer. "And you are going to let him leave, Fenrir. He isn't a part of whatever this is."

Fenrir looked delighted and more than willingly stood aside to let Draco pass. Draco stared at Emma for a moment before backing away from her slowly. He looked over at Fenrir, back to Emma, and then ran. Emma knew that Draco wouldn't say a word to anyone about what was happening. She wasn't sure if she found the idea of that terrifying or an absolute relief.

Emma was painfully aware of how alone she was with Fenrir in the alley. It didn't matter that there was a whole village of people when none of them would do a thing to help her. The town was full of students, and anyone sensible would stay away. Would anyone think to go find Remus or find someone who would help? Emma wasn't convinced that anyone would, especially Draco.

She slowly pulled herself away from the wall and turned herself to face Fenrir, slowly backing up as he sauntered towards her. As Emma kept her eyes locked on Fenrir's, she wondered if she was trapping herself by heading towards the back of the building, but it was the only direction she could go. Trying to run towards the street left her guaranteed to be grabbed by the werewolf.

"I missed you, Pup. You're growing up to be a very, very pretty little thing," Fenrir said as he looked her over. "You know the Malfoy brat isn't going to help you, right?"

"I'm afraid that I can't say that I've missed you," Emma said defiantly as she continued her slow walk backward. She hoped that by pretending she wasn't scared, she would start to feel brave, but her heart was racing. "I think I could have gone my whole life without seeing you again, honestly."

Rather than moving faster, Emma found herself freezing up as Fenrir quickly closed the space between them. Her steps back were too tentative and his steps, though equally as slow, were much larger. Emma felt her breath hitch again, and she felt herself shrink in on herself the moment Fenrir was right in front of her. She held herself tightly, dropping her gaze and focusing her gaze on Fenrir's heavy boots just in front of her. This wasn't at all what she thought she would do when confronted with the werewolf. Emma was positive that she would fight, wand blazing so that she could take back everything he had destroyed, but she didn't. She was the exact opposite of what she wanted to be. Emma was a trembling, nervous wreck that had felt much braver with Draco's feeble attempt at bravado.

"You know, I'm disappointed that you didn't allow me to have you in the woods behind your home," Fenrir said with a long drawn out sigh as he cupped Emma's chin and lifted her face to meet his gaze. The implications of Fenrir's words made Emma's stomach drop. "I was quite looking forward to having you then, but you had to alert your father that you were there, didn't you?"

"I didn't even know he was there," Emma stammered, looking away. What would Remus tell her to do in this situation? Fight, obviously, but how? He had barely skimmed the surface of the spells he needed to teach her, and Emma doubted her wispy Patronus or weak Flipendo would do much. It wouldn't hurt to try, she supposed as she slowly reached back for her wand.

"You fancied yourself a moonlit stroll, then?"

"S-something like that," Emma managed as her hand snaked around to her back to grab her wand. She shivered when she went to grab her wand and found it wasn't there at all. Where had her wand gone?

"Looking for this?" Fenrir asked, dropping his hold on Emma's chin and dangling her wand in front of her face. Emma stared helplessly at her wand, a whimper escaping her lips. She should have realized that Fenrir would have known what she was doing, and he tutted at her as if she was a small child. "Shame that your father is a professor and didn't even teach you to keep your wand out of reach of dangerous men." He pocketed her wand and bent down so that his nose was nearly touching hers. "Run."

Emma didn't need telling twice as she scrambled back from Fenrir and ran the rest of the length of the alley. As Emma turned the corner of the building, she realized with absolute horror that she was surrounded by tall wooden fencing on all sides. There was no escape. Fenrir had her wand, and she was left defenseless.

Her eyes quickly darted around to figure out what she could use to climb over the fence, but there wasn't much. There was a rubbish bin she could flip over to climb onto, but it looked too full. The crates lying about would take too long for her to stack, and she certainly wasn't tall enough to reach the top of the fence by jumping. The pickets were too smooth and too close together for her to climb. The fence supports that she could readily climb were on the opposite side of where she was.

"No…no, no, no, no," Emma moaned to herself as she ran up to the fence, running her hands along the pickets in hopes she was missing a gate. There had to be a gate - anything that could get her out and away, but there was nothing. She whirled around in a panic as she heard Fenrir's pleased growl as he turned the corner.

"It's always more entertaining when you think you have a chance," Fenrir purred, licking his lips as he drank in her terrified expression.

"You set me up," Emma choked out, unable to stop the tears that had welled up in her eyes from falling. "T-this was all planned."

"Not really," Fenrir said with a shrug. "I wasn't sure where the fences ended. I just knew you wouldn't get far."

Emma felt herself sag, and she leaned against the fence for support, her finger brushing against the black band around her wrist. She looked down at it and huffed out a watery laugh. Emma idly wondered if finding something to cut herself on would get Remus there faster. One look at Fenrir told her that it would be a terrible move. She had to somehow figure this out without Remus's help because there were no guarantees he could even get to her in time.

"What do you want, Fenrir?" Emma asked, meeting Fenrir's gaze, feeling exhausted. She allowed herself to really take a good look at the werewolf and realized he didn't look fatigued at all. It appeared that the moon had the exact opposite effect on Fenrir as he seemed incredibly relaxed. It was unsettling and made Emma that much more nervous. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"I haven't done anything to you. Not yet."

"You…Fenrir, I saw the police reports," Emma said quietly, wiping at her tears. "I'm not stupid. I know what you did to me. You can't tell me that you haven't done anything to me. The first time wasn't enough for you?"

The smile on Fenrir's face dropped, and his eyes narrowed slightly. He leaned against the side of the building; a single arm crossed over his chest as he rubbed his chin in thought. "You know about that, then? I should be offended that your first thought was that it was me."

Emma's tears slowed considerably as her fear gave way to confusion. She opened her mouth to ask what he meant, but her voice had disappeared entirely. Why would Fenrir ever deny such a thing? That was the exact sort of thing he lived for – all of the books said so, even Remus said so. She was rooted to the spot as Fenrir crossed the space between them and bracketed Emma's head with his hands. He bent low to stare into her eyes, his eyes glittering in amusement.

"Do you want to know what you remind me of?"

"I have a feeling that you're going to tell me regardless of what I say," Emma managed to whisper, ducking her head. She couldn't hold Fenrir's gaze, nor did she want to.

"You always were smart," Fenrir murmured as he leaned in to smell her hair. "You remind me of a rabbit that's just been caught by a predator. You're scared because you know there's no escape. Do you know how intoxicating that is to a werewolf? It's nearly impossible to break free once you get that first sniff of fear. Perhaps that's what I'll call you from now on – Rabbit."

Fenrir's words gave Emma pause, and she lifted her gaze to look at him again. "You were surprised that I seemed to remember you last time," Emma said quietly. "But the way you just said that I was always smart…you make it sound as though I've always known you."

"Because you have. In fact, you've known your father your entire life as well, but clearly don't remember," Fenrir said with a slight growl. He pressed one of his clawed fingers to her temple, caressing it. "Whatever they did to you has made you forget. Your memories are all there, it's just a matter of pulling them back out."

"Fenrir, that makes absolutely no sense. I can't have seen Remus. Besides, Fenrir, I saw the reports."

"I know what you saw," Fenrir said sharply, "but you don't know the truth, Rabbit."

"What are you talking about?"

"Did anyone tell you of the potion used at the hovel you were stuck in?"

Emma sucked in a breath, her eyes widening. "How do you know about that? How do you - you can't be talking about the children's home."

"That's exactly what I'm talking about."

"I don't…Fenrir, what are you talking about?" Emma leaned her face away from Fenrir, not wanting him to touch her anymore. It was already bad enough that he was so close to her – he smelled horrible. He smelled of a strong mix of dirt and sweat, and there was a coppery tang that she was sure was blood. It was nauseating, and she just wanted to be far away.

"If I tell you everything, you won't have a reason to come to me for answers," Fenrir smirked, dropping his hand to stroke her cheek. "All I'm going to tell you is that I wasn't the reason the police had to get involved. That was Jude's fault for letting you get out of sight when he visited my pack. I can tell you that the man responsible was taken care of."

Emma studied Fenrir's face, trying to figure out if he was lying to her. "Then who was it? If it wasn't you, who was it?"

"A young werewolf in my pack named Montgomery. Freshly turned and didn't know how the pack worked. He thought he could have what was mine, but he learned his lesson quickly."

That wasn't at all what Emma expected Fenrir to say. "What happened to him?"

"I killed him," Fenrir said simply. "I couldn't have that around the other children. If he tried with you, he would have tried with the others. I run my packs well, and I wasn't about to have it fall apart because of him. If you don't believe me, ask your father. He'll remember ol' Monty." Fenrir decided to run his fingers through her hair, playing with the strands between his fingers. "You were far too young for me then, but now…Well, I'd say you're perfect."

Emma's breath came out as a sharp gasp, and her throat tightened up. She wanted desperately to recoil from Fenrir, but his fingers curled in to grip her hair tightly in warning. She whimpered at the pull of her hair in his hand but was grateful he didn't tug any harder. Emma needed small victories, and unfortunately, that was one.

"Relax," he said, his voice dropping into what Emma assumed was meant to be a soothing tone. "I'm not going to do anything to you. I told you – not yet."

If Fenrir's words were meant to be reassuring, they failed miserably, but Emma needed to push through. She needed to keep Fenrir talking. The more she could get him to talk, the more of a possibility someone could find her before something happened. She hoped.

"What does Jude have to do with any of this?" Emma stammered. "And why don't you call him my father when you know that I'm not actually Remus's."

"You were promised to me years ago by Jude, Rabbit. You're mine, and there's nothing you can do to change that," Fenrir said, his voice holding a slight warning in it as he tugged her hair a little harder. He slowly relaxed his grip so that he could run his fingers back through her hair, gently massaging her scalp. "Biologically speaking, Jude might have been the one to help make you, but you were never meant to be his. You should have been with my Pup much sooner."

"How do you know that?" Emma asked breathlessly. "Fenrir, what aren't you telling me?"

"Where's the fun in telling you everything now? I already told you that I need a reason for you to come back to me. All I will tell you is that you're my Pup's child," Fenrir said softly. "You're smart, Rabbit, and I'm sure that you'll be able to figure things out on your own. If you're not, well…it won't take much for you to find me if you really try. I'm always keeping an eye on you. I always have."

"How do you know all of this? I…you're lying to me." Emma was sure he was lying to her. There was no way that Fenrir should know so much. She couldn't help but find herself focused on two things, though. Fenrir told her that not only was she meant to be Remus's, but she had known him her entire life. How could that be possible?

"Have I ever lied to you?" Fenrir asked, watching Emma closely. Emma wasn't sure how to answer that question, and Fenrir picked up on that quickly. "You really don't remember much at all, do you? I would have thought by now you would have remembered; we have such fond memories together. Such a shame. I wonder if I could help with that."

"Help? Help how?"

"I think I know a way of releasing those memories for you."

Emma stared at Fenrir, even more confused. Nothing he was saying made sense, and she was frustrated with herself for becoming intrigued.

"You smell like me, Rabbit," Fenrir said, drawing out each word. "Do you think I would miss my own scent? I just find it curious."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

Fenrir chuckled, "Ah, so you're not as innocent as you look, Rabbit. Never would have expected such a smart little mouth on you." He grabbed onto Emma and tossed her onto the ground hard and threw himself on all fours over top of her. "Don't act as if you haven't seen it in yourself. You've got all the makings of a wolf that's begging to be released. All it would take is one bite to release her; she's already there. I'm just wondering why your father hasn't bothered to do it himself and left you for me instead. If would be far more tempting for him…unless he's finally accepted you as his child. That would change things…"

Emma felt herself begin to tremble again at the underlying threat in Fenrir's words. He didn't outright say that he planned to bite her, but it sounded like he planned on it.

It was almost like Fenrir knew where her thoughts went as he started to chuckle. "You know," he said slowly, "I bet I could even fix things right now. I think a bite would be more than enough to release all of those hidden thoughts in your mind."

Time felt like it froze. Everything grew still, and Emma felt her entire body grow cold with pure fear. It was exactly where she hoped the conversation wouldn't go, and she was terrified. A very pleased smile crossed Fenrir's face, and the noise rumbling from his chest was a mix of a purr and a low growl. Was there truth to his words? Could he bite her, and that would be it? How did Fenrir know that she wasn't a full werewolf already? Was it possible that it could be a way of her getting the rest of her memories back? Emma didn't want to find out. She just knew that she didn't want Fenrir to be the one to bite her.

"W-what?" Emma managed to choke out.

"Ah, there it is," Fenrir cooed. "Took longer than I thought to get you there, but I knew you'd really get scared eventually." In one smooth motion, Fenrir captured both of Emma's wrists in one hand. He peered down at the black bracelet underneath his fingers and grinned. He looped a claw of his free hand underneath the band and pulled hard, splitting it in two. He grabbed onto the fractured band and tossed it over the fence.

"I'm doing you a favor. A wolf shouldn't be chained up, and luckily for you, as a werewolf, I can save you," Fenrir said. "Although, I have to admit that I find myself a little hurt that you're not wearing my gift. I kept it safe for you."

Emma desperately wished she could stop the tears that spilled from her eyes. She knew it was precisely what Fenrir wanted from her, but that stupid band was her last hope. If Remus had realized something was wrong and was making his way to the village, he would no longer find her. All of the enchantments on the bracelet would have broken the exact moment Fenrir snapped it, and she sobbed even harder. Emma was as good as dead.

As useless as it was, Emma struggled against Fenrir as hard as she could. With no use of her hands, she was only left to trying to flail underneath the werewolf. The hand not gripping tightly to her wrists came up to grab her chin hard to hold her in place.

"Trying to fight me isn't going to change a thing, Rabbit," Fenrir snarled, drinking in Emma's face. "In fact, I enjoy it the more you fight."

Fenrir's words forced her to take several deep, shuddering breaths to try and stop her tears. She hated how much he was enjoying her crying, but she couldn't stop.

"P-please, F-Fenrir," Emma stuttered out through her sobs. "Don't. N-not like this."

"And how else would I do this, Rabbit?" Fenrir asked.

"I d-don't know," Emma whined. "J-just please, Fenrir. D-don't."

Fenrir was clearly tired of talking as he growled at her, all vestiges of his twisted smile melting to a deadly serious expression. He dipped his head low with teeth bared as he angled himself for the soft spot where her shoulder met her neck. Emma couldn't stop herself from finally screaming, closing her eyes tightly as she sobbed. There was nothing more she could do.

Emma could feel the sharp press of his teeth on her skin, and she could only cry harder, bracing herself for the tearing of her skin. This was the situation she was trying to avoid. If Fenrir was telling her the truth, she didn't want him to be the reason she was a werewolf. Her odd status meant that they didn't know what would happen if she received a bite at any other time. Emma just knew that she didn't want to find out regardless, and Fenrir was taking his time. It felt incredibly cruel that he was waiting, not just biting into her and ending her suffering. But then Emma heard a vicious snarl and understood. They weren't alone.

She forced her eyes open to find Padfoot's snarling face around the corner of the building. Emma's eyes darted between the angry black dog and Fenrir, who had lifted himself up just enough to look at the dog. Emma desperately hoped that he thought it was an angry dog that had joined them and not an Animagus. She felt only the faintest bubble of hope, but it was instantly squashed down.

Fenrir sat back further, still maintaining his grip on Emma's wrists. He stared at the dog for a moment before inclining his head.

"Well, well," he said slowly, looking back down at Emma as he turned her face to look at him. "I see your…pet…has issues with my being here." Fenrir bent back down to whisper in her ear, "Too bad he's shown himself to me before. It would have been a wonderful trick, but even Sirius Black isn't stupid enough to transform to protect you. Such a shame he'll have to watch me tearing into your throat."

Padfoot didn't stop snarling, but he looked worried. A small whine slipped from him as he looked between Emma and Fenrir. Emma desperately wanted to say something to him, but she wasn't sure what to even say.

Dread pitted itself in Emma's stomach as Fenrir turned back to her, once more baring his teeth and looking more excited than before. Emma had to get a grip on herself, and she took another shuddering breath and set her jaw as she glared at him. If this was going to happen, then she wanted to at least say she pretended she wasn't scared. Padfoot being there gave her strength, and she hoped it was just enough to get through.

"Oh, are you tired of playing?" Fenrir asked, an eyebrow quirking at Emma's sudden shift. "I was just getting started."

"Really? So was I," Emma snarled, spitting in Fenrir's face as he made his way back towards her neck. The moment she spit at Fenrir, she regretted it. He pulled back, his expression dark as his nostrils flared with anger. His grip on her wrist grew painfully tight, and she sucked in a harsh breath at the ache. The smile that crossed his face held an unspoken threat, and it chilled her to the core. His head suddenly whipped around to Padfoot, who had gotten closer, fully prepared to attack, but the dog backed away quickly.

"Well, well," Fenrir said, looking at Emma with disgust, "Rabbit's got claws, after all. Who knew?" Fenrir finally let go of Emma's face to wipe his face off, looking far less pleased than he was before. "Just for that, I'll be generous. Now that I know you'll play along, I think I'd rather wait for the moon. It's close, but not close enough. I want to hear your pretty little screams turn into howls under the moonlight. Besides," he said, running his claws teasingly across her face, "I think you'd be rather pretty if you had the same scars as your father. I've always been rather partial to him as my first…perhaps next time I'll decorate your face for you."

Fenrir's trailed down Emma's throat, his fingers resting where her pulse was racing. He grunted at the feeling beneath his fingers, tightening his grip ever so slightly. "I can't wait for the night I can finally bite into that delicious throat of yours and claim you. It'll be so hard to resist tearing you apart, but I will do my best, Rabbit. You're mine, and everyone will know it."

He finally let go of Emma's wrists and rolled off of her, dropping her wand next to her. He turned to Padfoot with a snort and shook his head as he stood. With one final, twisted smile, Fenrir turned back to Emma. "You'll have to tell me how your father reacts when he finds out I nearly had you, Rabbit. I'm sure he'll be…delighted," he said. "I would make sure your dog is on a leash next time. I'll have no problem disposing of him if he tries to interfere when we meet next."

Emma watched as Fenrir Disapparated, and she began to cry again. She couldn't convince herself to get up from where she was, feeling limp and boneless from relief. Emma felt a warm, furry body press up against her, and she turned onto her side to throw an arm around Padfoot as he laid next to her. He whined softly, nosing Emma's hair as she buried her face into his fur.

"You couldn't have done anything," Emma whispered when her sobs died out to hiccoughs. She met his silvery eyes, frowning because he looked guilty. She scratched the spot behind his ears and pressed her forehead to his. "I'm just glad that someone found me." She sat up slowly and ran a hand over her neck, trying to make sure that he didn't actually bite her.

"Is there anything there?" Emma asked Padfoot, sniffling as he slowly approached her to double-check. He stared at the spot on her neck, his ears flattening back, and Emma frowned. "He didn't break skin, though, did he?" Padfoot gave a slight shake of his head, which led to him shaking out the rest of his fur to soothe his nerves. Emma hoped that it meant that she was still all right. As long as he didn't break skin, she assumed that she would be fine. She stood up shakily and watched Padfoot pick up her wand in his teeth to give back to her.

"Thanks, Pads," Emma said softly, running her sleeve over her face to dry it. She started to head back down the alley and turned back to Padfoot quickly. "Don't follow me. Dad's going to be a complete mess, and the last thing he needs to do is see you. I'll be fine…"

Padfoot didn't seem thrilled by the idea but sat down with a whine. She gave Padfoot a small wave before rushing out of the alley and onto the street. It seemed bizarre that life had moved along in the village with people not knowing what had transpired. Nervously, Emma took a look around, stuffing her wand in the inside pocket of her coat before heading up the street back towards the castle. Her only concern was getting to Remus and quickly.

"Emma! There you are!"

Emma whirled around to see Persephone, who was walking with Ellis. She had no idea that Persephone's father was visiting the village, and she had completely forgotten about their plans.

"Effie, Mr. Moon," Emma grimaced, wanting to head towards the castle but feeling stuck. She didn't want to be rude but heading back was more important, and they had to see that she was distressed. "I'm really sorry, but I have to –"

"Nonsense," Ellis said, grabbing onto Emma's shoulder and steering her in the direction of the Three Broomsticks. "There is more than enough time to have lunch. Whatever it is can wait. You wouldn't want to break your promise to Persephone, would you?"

"Sir, I really need to head back to the castle…"

Her words seemed to fall on deaf ears as Ellis began to speak of some sort of goings-on at the Ministry. Persephone looked at her in concern but didn't say anything as they continued on their way. Emma just had to hope that the entire village wasn't torn apart by Remus trying to look for her.