The time after Margaret's funeral was taken day by day. The first day back at the cottage was the hardest, but the next day Emma acted as if nothing had happened. She was going through life and acting like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Except for her struggling to fall asleep, Emma seemed almost normal.

Remus observed her, making sure that she didn't overwork herself as she spent hours working on her holiday work. She was distracting herself, which was important, but he couldn't seem to get her to understand that it was okay to grieve.

"I'm fine," she insisted after Remus approached her for what felt like the hundredth time that day. She closed the book in her lap and looked up at Remus as he sat down on the couch next to her. "I swear."

"I just want to make sure that you know it's okay to not be brave all the time. You need to let yourself grieve," Remus said softly.

"I'm fine," she repeated, giving him a tight smile. She looked down at her hands in her lap thoughtfully. "I want to talk about my dream."

"Oh? What about it?"

"It was confusing," Emma started before explaining everything that had happened. Remus's hands closed into tight fists when she had mentioned the red light and described the intense pain, but he said nothing. He allowed her to continue, wanting to hear everything before commenting. Emma purposely changed the bit of her dream where Remus had been, choosing to change it to Fenrir. "It felt real. Some of it had to be."

Remus appeared to be doing some quick thinking as he processed what Emma told him. "Sometimes our dreams can feel real," he said slowly. "There's a strong possibility that with everything that's been going on, your subconscious manifested in such a way that it felt real."

"But the bit with Jude – whatever that light was hurt. How can a dream hurt like that?"

"I'll admit that it's not typical…"

"Which means that it could have been real?" Emma suggested, hurt at the doubtful expression on Remus's face. "I just – I feel like there's something wrong with Jude. I don't think he's good at all."

"Emma, it was just a dream," Remus insisted. "I know I didn't know Jude well, but I highly doubt your mother would have remained with him for so long if he wasn't a good man."

"But what if there was something wrong? What if someone missed something?" Emma felt herself growing panicked at the thought. "What if there's something more? What if he was one of those – what were they called?"

"Are you talking about Death Eaters?"

"Yes! One of those!" Emma shouted, her panic giving way to hope.

"Emma…Jude wasn't a Death Eater," Remus sighed. "Sweetheart, with all of the books you read, I'm not really surprised your dreams have twisted the way that they have."

Emma's face fell, and she immediately felt sick. There was no way that her mind could have created something so vivid. This wasn't something from a book, or movies, or even from her own imagination. "You don't believe me?"

"I believe that your dreams are terrifying, but I don't believe that they're real," Remus admitted. "They can't be."

"How can you be so sure?" Emma shot up from the couch, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Emma, I am telling you that we would have known about Jude years ago. You are trying to tell me that the man was secretly working with Voldemort. That is impossible."

"But how do you know? You don't know that he wasn't!"

"Because we had spies, Emma! We had spies, and as much as I don't want to trust them – we would have known. We had tabs on every possible known Death Eater, and he was not one of them."

"You could have missed it!" Emma insisted. "Are you sure that you knew all of them?"

"Yes, we knew all of them."

"Are you sure?"

"Emelyn Theodosia –"

Something suddenly shattered in Emma, and she was hit with a wave of anger that she had never felt before. "Don't call me that," she said through gritted teeth.

"Don't call you by your name?" Remus asked, confused.

"Don't call me...that. Just Emma."

"And why shouldn't I call you by your full name?"

"Because I don't want to be reminded of him," Emma said, exasperated.

"Emelyn –"

"Don't. Don't call me that."

"I'm very curious to know what you expect me to call you, then," Remus said, sitting up straighter.

"I told you – just Emma. Emma Lupin. That's who I am."

"Fine, Emma." Remus stood up and mirrored Emma's stance. "I can tell you that without a doubt that we would know."

"I doubt it."

"I don't."

Emma huffed, looking around the room and fixing her gaze to a spot on the floor. "Fine, then I have a question for you."

"And what's that?"

"Why are you so certain that I never say Greyback before he just so happened to show up in my room last year?"

"Because I would know," Remus's response was as exasperated as he now looked.

"How would you know? You don't tell me how."

"Because I would, Emma," Remus said sharply. "It's exactly the same way that I would know that Jude isn't a Death Eater."

Emma flinched, momentarily stunned by how harsh his response sounded, but it only fueled her anger further. "You never answer my questions!"

"Because you wouldn't understand, Emma. It was a different time – we were at war. As difficult as it is for you to understand, I need you to trust me when I say I would know."

"But how? How would you know?"

"Because I was one of the spies!"

Emma's anger was quelled for a moment, her curiosity piqued. "You were a spy?"

"Yes, I was a spy for Dumbledore and the Order. I had to go on…" Remus trailed off, unable to finish his sentence. He rubbed a hand over his face, regretting saying anything.

"Go on what?"

Remus nearly let out a groan, knowing Emma wasn't about to drop the conversation. "My missions were very specialized. Only I could go."

"Why?"

"They were in my area of expertise."

"And what area was that?"

"I'm afraid that's Order business," Remus said, meeting Emma's hard stare. Her anger had returned in full force, and her eyes were ablaze.

"How can you sit here and tell me that it's Order business when it's been years?"

"You are just a child!" Remus shouted, wanting the conversation to be over.

"I am thirteen!" Emma shouted back.

"And that's exactly why you don't need to know."

"I'm not allowed to know what exactly you did in the Order because I'm too young, but I'm old enough to understand that my mother is dead. That makes perfect sense." Tears filled Emma's eyes but didn't fall. Her lip quivered, but she took a steadying breath, prepared to have the last word.

"Emma…"

"No! It's not fair."

"I'm sorry, but it's how it is."

"Fine, if you won't answer that, I have another question for you. Why don't you explain to me why last year you were so bloody excited about the idea of being my father? And then, out of nowhere, decided that you didn't want to be?"

Remus's eyes narrowed, and his lips pressed into a thin line. "What do you mean?" He asked, ignoring the sudden racing of his heart.

"I'm not stupid. I remember our conversations. Actually, in fact, I remember that the very first time that you ever referred to me as yours was our first Christmas together. Effie's mum had said something that had made you particularly irate, and that was the first time you said it. And then, for a while, that's who I was. And then you stopped and all of a sudden you decided, 'Oh, maybe this is all right.' Why?"

Remus stared at Emma, entirely at a loss. Emma was angry and rightly so. He would be too if he had to go through what she had. He had unintentionally hurt her in so many ways when he was trying to do what he thought was best. In his misguided attempts at keeping her safe, he had aided in her suffering. He hadn't been aware of how much of his decisions had affected her. He certainly wasn't aware of how much she noticed. Of course, he should have realized – he knew how smart she was.

"I was trying to keep you safe."

"From who?"

"Greyback…"

"Were you trying to keep me safe? Or was that just for you?"

Emma's blunt statement was like a slap in the face because she wasn't entirely right, but she wasn't wrong either.

"I thought that if I…took a step back, it would keep you safe. By telling people that I'm your father, I was afraid…" Remus trailed off, opening his mouth to continue, but unable to find the words he wanted to say.

"Afraid of what? You always do this. You start to say something, and then you never finish the bloody sentence."

"Emma…"

"No! It has been like this for nearly two years, and I know that if I were to ask you right now to tell me the truth, you wouldn't." The tears had finally started falling, and Emma wiped them from her face angrily. She tried to fight them, but they continued to fall. "I don't know why you don't trust me to know the truth."

"Because I don't want you to hate me," Remus shouted, taking a deep breath. He turned around for a moment, covering his face. When he turned back around, he looked everywhere except for at Emma. "Damn it, Emma – if you know the truth, you would want nothing to do with me."

"Well, it's too late for that…"

Remus froze at he met Emma's gaze. "Too late for what?"

"I hate you," Emma muttered, giving Remus one last pained look before going back to her room and slamming the door.

The sky had grown dark by the time Emma had come out of her room. She was tired of the silence, and she was tired of the guilt that knotted her stomach. Emma had never meant to tell Remus that she hated him, but she was angry, and it slipped out.

Emma padded out slightly to the living room and stood awkwardly around the corner as she peered in. Remus's back was towards her as he leaned back against the arm of the couch, his long legs stretched out as he read. Her stomach knotted as he turned his head slightly in her direction, casting her a sidelong glance.

"Yes?" He asked, his voice uncharacteristically cold.

"Hi," Emma said stupidly, fidgeting with the sleeves of her jumper.

"Hello," Remus sighed, looking up from his book long enough to study her for a moment. An eyebrow raised as he watched her, but when she didn't say a word, he returned to his book. He propped an arm on the arm of the couch just behind him, and half covered his face, almost in dismissal.

A small whimper escaped Emma's lips at the gesture. She knew that she had hurt him, but she didn't want to leave things the way that they were. Biting her lip anxiously, Emma tried to think of all the things that she wanted to say but couldn't figure out how to explain. In a desperate attempt to make things better, Emma climbed over Remus onto the couch, wedging herself in between the sofa back and his body.

"May I ask what exactly it is you think you're doing?" Remus asked, half amused, half annoyed as he watched her impassively.

Emma took Remus's book from him and tossed it on the coffee table, pulled his arm around her shoulders, and rest her head on his chest. "In that letter, the one you wrote me when I went back to school, you wrote and said I used to do this," she said, glad that she couldn't see his face as she made herself comfortable. She closed her eyes, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "When – when I wasn't having a good day or if I couldn't sleep."

"You were considerably smaller when you used to it," Remus remarked, his hand reflexively rubbing her arm gently. His response was icy, but he didn't try to make her leave, and that made Emma feel a little better.

"I'm still small," she muttered, lifting her head to look up at him. "And – and does…" She sighed, trying to force the words out. "Does a daughter need a reason to snuggle with her father on the couch?"

Remus's eyes met hers, though his expression was still unreadable. Emma desperately wished that she knew what he was thinking because the silence was worrying her. He had been cold with her before, but never like this.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean what I said."

Emma felt Remus's deep sigh before she heard it. His face softened, and with his other hand, he cupped her head and placed it back down on his chest. "It was my fault," he said quietly, stroking Emma's hair. "I should have realized much sooner than I did. But you were right. I truly was trying to protect you, but I was trying to protect myself as well. I don't want to lose you again."

"You won't," Emma muttered.

"I certainly hope not," Remus said with another sigh. "Emma, I want to tell you the truth, but I'm not ready to – not yet."

"When, then?" Emma asked, lifting her head to meet Remus's gaze.

"Soon – I promise," Remus said solemnly. "Not today, not tomorrow…probably not in a month, but I will. I just ask that you please give me a little more time. Okay?"

"Okay," Emma said. "I really am sorry, though."

"I know," he whispered, "but you're not as sorry as I am."

Emma buried her face in Remus's chest as tears started to fill her eyes again. She let out a huff of breath and sniffled as her nose started to burn. "Dad?" she whispered, testing out the word that felt foreign on her tongue.

Remus's breath caught in his throat, but he recovered quickly, pulling in a deep breath. He didn't think that he would ever get used to it. "Yes, love?"

"This fucking sucks," Emma said simply, taking Remus by surprise.

"Yes, it fucking does."

The last few days of the Easter holiday moved far too quickly for Emma's liking. She hated to once again leave the routine that she had made and have to readjust again. Remus was able to put off starting at his new job until after Emma had to go, which meant they were able to spend more time together. He wanted to wait longer, but much like Emma, he felt there was too much work to do. Neither of them could stop.

After fighting it for so long, Emma had finally started to write in her journal. It wasn't much, just random thoughts that she had, but Remus was relieved to see her trying. She was struggling to cope, and he found himself even more worried than he had been before. It had been common for Emma to burst out into fits of rage, and he encouraged it where he could. Though it left her exhausted and worn out, he preferred that she let out her emotions instead of keeping them in. He could only hope that her anger held on until the end of the school year.

Emma had finally started to call Remus, 'Dad,' something that he found terrifying and perfect all at once. It wasn't frequent, and she still called him 'Re' far more often, but she made an effort. It was a slow process, but it was one that she seemed dedicated to.

Remus made more of an effort to tell her more, telling her more stories of his time at Hogwarts. His heart ached when he told them, but Emma enjoyed hearing them. He told her more stories of watching her when she was little, more than happy to see the little smiles that would cross her face.

The thing that concerned Remus the most was Emma's near dependence on Dreamless Sleep. She struggled to fall asleep at night, and no matter how tired she was, she couldn't relax long enough to sleep naturally. When he realized a Calming Draught did nothing, he feared a regular Sleeping Draught would do nothing for her. Against his better judgment, he gave in and allowed her to have Dreamless Sleep, but only on the condition she only had it twice a week. The last thing he needed was for her to become addicted to it.

"Do you have everything I gave you?" Remus asked Emma as they made their way into King's Cross.

"Yes," Emma said, exasperated. "I have my journal, I have my sketchbook, the million and one pencils you insist I need. And I think you've given me enough chocolate to last for the next five years."

"That's only enough for five days. You're slacking on me," Remus said brightly.

Emma rolled her eyes as they stepped through onto Platform 9 ¾. She immediately froze, the red steam-engine paralyzing her with terror.

Remus, noticing that Emma was no longer next to him, turned around quickly. He gave Emma an understanding look and pulled her to the side of the entranceway so that no one barreled into her.

"Professor Dumbledore said you could stay home another week. You don't have to go back today," Remus said gently.

"I know, I know," she said anxiously. "I'm just afraid to leave you."

"I promise everything will be fine," Remus said. "You will be okay. I will be okay. Your grandfather will be okay."

"Are you sure?"

"Are you?"

Emma cracked a small smile. It had almost become a game of reassurances between each other. It was something that was just for them, and it was something they both understood without having to elaborate.

"I'll be okay," Emma said after a moment.

"Then, I'll be okay, as well."

"Are you sure you can't stay until the train leaves?" Emma asked, looking past Remus to stare at the train.

"Unfortunately, no. I would like to, but some things need to be taken care of at the Ministry," Remus said.

"I understand," Emma said sadly.

"Emma!" Persephone came running off the train and tackled Emma into a tight hug. Her hug was so forceful that Remus had to step in behind Emma to make sure that she didn't fall over.

"Hi?" Emma said with a laugh, hugging Persephone back.

"Caspian and Neville are already on the train. Already checked – still Jocelyn free for now," Persephone said brightly, letting go of Emma and giving Remus a hug.

"Er, hello," Remus said awkwardly, returning Persephone's hug. Emma bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. "Er, Persephone, is it all right if you just give us a few more moments?"

"Oh!" Persephone said, with a grin. "Yes! Em, we're four doors down the first carriage. You can't miss us."

"Okay, I'll be on soon," Emma said, shaking her head as Persephone skipped back towards the train. She suddenly didn't seem so worried about going back, at least for now.

"That was different," Remus said, blinking owlishly at Persephone's back. He turned back to Emma and shook his head, looking at his watch. "I guess we need to make this quick."

"Are you sure?" Emma asked, turning to Remus and hugging him tightly.

"I know, sweetheart. Just two more months, and then we have all summer," Remus said, hugging Emma just as tightly. "Everything will be fine."

"I know," Emma sighed, pulling away.

"You have the Dreamless Sleep, correct?"

Emma nodded. "Yes – twice a week, don't take more. If I need anything, go to Madam Pomfrey. If I really need you, go to Professor McGonagall," Emma said, going down the list of things that she knew Remus would ask. "I think we've gone over it a million times."

"That was thorough," Remus smiled. "I worry about you, you know."

"I know," Emma said quietly. "You're really sure you have to go?"

"I'm sorry," Remus said, pulling Emma back in for another hug. "Write as much as you want to. Keep up using the journal – it'll help more than you think. Don't push your friends away."

"I know," Emma whined. "I know, I know, I know."

Remus chuckled, kissing the top of Emma's head. He started to pull away, but Emma held on tighter. "Sweetheart, I have to go."

"Just another minute. Please."

"Okay."

DTDTDTDTDT

As it would turn out, being back at Hogwarts felt like a personal Hell for Emma.

The train ride back had been uneventful, though Jocelyn had made it a point to stalk by their compartment glowering as she passed. The conversation had been light and didn't require any thought on Emma's part, which was appreciated. The less she had to think, the better.

However, stepping foot back into the castle quickly became too much. The Hufflepuffs practically swarmed on top of her, offering condolences and apologies. So many apologies. It took Persephone and Caspian stepping in to finally get them to back off so that she could breathe. Emma noticed the curious look from Jocelyn as she entered the Great Hall for dinner, and Emma just knew that there was going to be trouble.

Entering the common room was even worse. Without having Persephone to make the others leave, Emma had no choice but to sit and listen to them. It felt like it took her hours to escape to the dorm, and the moment she got into her bed, she closed the curtains and downed a bottle of Dreamless Sleep.

Emma didn't take into account how long she would wind up sleeping with Dreamless Sleep and slept right through breakfast, her free period, and half of Potions. She groaned and threw on her uniform, rushing out of the dorm and down the stairs to the dungeons with her bag half-packed and uniform half on. She burst into the Potion's classroom, her other shoe half on.

"Well, it appears as though Miss Lupin has finally decided to join us," Snape drawled, dark eyes boring into hers.

"Sorry," Emma said quietly, taking her seat next to Mandy. "I overslept."

Snape stared at her for a moment. "While I am aware of the circumstances of what happened over your holiday, but since you are here, I expect you to be here on time," Snape continued. "And prepared before you set foot in this classroom."

"I know, I'm sorry," Emma flushed, trying not to let Snape get under her skin. She couldn't let him set off her anger in the first few minutes of class. "It won't happen again."

"You're correct," he said, pulling his eyes away from Emma's and turning back to the class. "Now, before I was interrupted…"

Defense Against the Dark Arts had been downright embarrassing for Emma as Lockhart announced his condolences to the entire class. She was sure that she spent the whole class a brilliant shade of red as her classmates would turn to look at her sympathetically. She didn't want their pity.

For the first time ever, Neville joined Emma and Persephone over at the Hufflepuff table.

"He did what?" Persephone asked, outraged. "I can't believe he did that! In front of everyone?"

"Are you really surprised?" Emma asked, exasperated. "I felt so stupid."

"I'm sure he didn't mean it," Neville offered. "I mean, it is Lockhart."

"That's exactly it. He's a bloody idiot," Emma muttered. She picked up a sandwich half grumpily and took a bite. "One of you can tell my dad that I ate today since I'm sure he'll bother at least one of you. I'm heading to Charms."

One of the good things about Professor Flitwick was he kept his classroom open. It wasn't often that she got to class early, but having the option was nice. She took her usual spot and threw open her book. In the middle of skimming through the pages, she glanced up to see Blaise Zabini entering the room.

He stared at her for a moment before putting his things down at his normal seat and taking the seat next to her. Emma didn't bother looking at Blaise as he sat next to her.

"What do you want?" Emma asked, bitter that he had come over at all.

"Well, hello to you too," Blaise retorted. "You know what? Never mind." Blaise promptly stood back up, spinning on his heel to leave.

"'Never mind' what, Blaise?" Emma snapped, turning to watch Blaise out of the corner of her eye.

"I came over to tell you that I understand what you're going through, but you're so bloody miserable to be around."

"You would be too if Lockhart announced to the entire class that your mum died," Emma said bitterly.

Blaise didn't offer his apologies but nodded. "Fair enough," he said. "If you feel the need to talk to someone…"

"Thanks," Emma muttered.

As soon as Blaise left, Draco appeared sitting to her right, and Persephone sat to her left.

"Draco, why do you insist on sitting next to me?" Emma asked, exhausted. She couldn't imagine trying to get through two hours of Charms with Draco sitting next to her again.

"It's mostly because Persephone knows what she's doing," Draco shrugged. "And you're in the way."

Persephone scoffed, turning to glare at Draco. "Well, aren't you a right little shit," she retorted. Draco only shrugged in response.

"It's fine," Emma grumbled. She looked at Persephone and frowned slightly as a wayward thought crossed her mind. "Hey, Effie, can we talk after class?"

"Yeah, of course," Persephone said, giving Emma a funny look.

Emma wasn't sure that she paid attention to Flitwick at all during class. She both wished the class would be over with and hoped that it would keep going. When the bell rang for class to be over, Emma couldn't help but cringe. She wasn't ready for what she was going to say, but she needed to.

Persephone packed her things slowly, trying to wait out Draco and smirked when he huffed and finally left. He didn't want to miss what Emma was going to say, but he didn't want to be late for their next class. Persephone didn't care either way.

"What's going on?" Persephone asked.

Emma turned to Persephone, taking in a deep breath. "Effie, I don't think we should be together anymore."

A relieved smile crossed Persephone's face. "Oh, Merlin…"

"Well, don't look so excited about it," Emma said grumpily as she started to pack her things faster.

"No, I just – I'm sorry," Persephone said, grabbing Emma's hand. "I've been thinking the same thing.

"It's because I'm screwed up, isn't it?" Emma said bitterly, meeting Persephone's gaze.

"No, Emma – I love you, but I don't love you."

"That's rather confusing, isn't it?"

Persephone leaned in and kissed Emma's cheek. "Emma, you are wonderful. You are truly and honestly wonderful, but we're much better friends."

"I thought I was breaking up with you," Emma muttered, a small smile crossing her face. "How did it turn into you breaking up with me?"

"Because you knew already," Persephone said. "You would be a lot more upset if you didn't."

"Unfortunately," Emma admitted.

"Emma, not that I don't love you more than anything, but you need to be with someone who has more love to give to you. I am not that person."

"Is it because I'm broken?"

"You're not broken, Emma," Persephone said, holding Emma's hand in hers. "You have a lot of love in that heart of yours. I can't be the one to take that away from you. Not that I don't love you unconditionally, but you need more."

"So, it's not me, it's you."

Persephone laughed, pulling Emma into a hug. "Yes, you git. I'm letting you go because I know that I'm not right for you."

"This year is terrible."

"I know. But we'll always be sisters," Persephone said brightly.

Emma began to giggle, thinking about Star Wars. "Oh, wait until I tell you about a movie dad and I watched…you'll be horrified."

"Hey, how about I set you up with someone?" Persephone suggested as she stood up.

"Depends on who," Emma answered, doubtful that Persephone would have a good pick.

"What about Neville? We already know he has the hots for you."

"Oh, Merlin, no," Emma laughed, following Persephone out of the classroom. "He's sweet, but no."

Emma was grateful that Transfiguration went without incident. As McGonagall had passed by her seat, she sneakily left a small tin of the ginger biscuits she liked. Emma snuck the tin into her bag with an appreciative smile to McGonagall.

When she made her way down to dinner, the thoughts running through her mind grew progressively darker. Each step she took began to pull Emma into a dark despair, and she found it getting harder and harder to breathe. She couldn't do it. She couldn't be around so many people. She should have stayed home another week and stayed with Remus.

Too focused on her thoughts, Emma missed Jocelyn running past her to the Great Hall. It was only when she landed hard on the stone floor that she was pulled out of her thoughts.

"Oops," Jocelyn smirked as she turned around to stare at Emma. "Was that how you killed your mum? How tragic…"

Persephone, who had seen what happened rushed out of the Great Hall, shouting at Jocelyn as she went. Emma's throat constricted painfully as she blinked back her tears. It wasn't fair, none of it was fair. She wanted to die.

As Emma laid in her bed that night, she stared at the ceiling. Emma could barely pay attention at dinner, only partially alarmed by how sure she was that she wanted to die. She didn't want to deal with Jocelyn anymore, she didn't want to be a disappointment, and she could finally be with her mother. The thought had been mulling around her brain since the funeral, but Jocelyn's taunt made her realize how much she wanted it. She actually wanted to die.

Emma didn't want her death to be painful; she knew that. It just wouldn't do. That automatically ruled out the obvious option of jumping from the Astronomy tower. She couldn't convince another student to do it, namely because she wouldn't even know how that would work. Jocelyn would do it, she thought bitterly. If Jocelyn knew what to do, she would do it in a heartbeat.

Curious on the time, Emma poked her head outside of her bed curtains. 2:54.

"Shit," Emma muttered as she slipped back into the curtains. She couldn't sleep – not when her thoughts were going a million miles a minute. With an exhausted sigh, she poked herself out of the curtains and dove into her nightstand. She knew that she shouldn't take it for a second night in a row, but she had a plan.

Pomfrey said that she could have Dreamless Sleep given to her three times a week. If she was careful, she could space the stash that Remus gave her and have it every day. She would be able to sleep, and all would be well. Her fingers found the vial, and relief coursed through her. She could practically hear the disappointed and gentle scolding Remus would give her if he was there.

I wonder if it's easy to brew, Emma asked herself as she settled herself under her covers. She knew it was remarkably similar to a standard Sleeping Draught, using similar ingredients and a similar set of instructions. There were small modifications to the ingredients to make sure that the induced sleep prevented the user from dreaming. She stared at the vial of purple liquid thoughtfully.

Emma's mind began to wander as she thought about what ingredients needed to change so that the potion worked. It was almost like a lightbulb went off in her head as she debated on the use of valerian in Dreamless Sleep. She knew what she could do.

She didn't want to have a painful death, she wanted it to be as easy as falling asleep. She could make the Draught of Living Death. The thought came to her unexpectedly, vaguely remembering Snape mentioning it in their first week of potion's class. Curiosity had gotten the better of her after that class, and she found it both terrifying and amazing. It was the perfect solution to her problems.

It was a complicated potion, very susceptible to error, but it was quick. If Emma was successful, then she would go to sleep and never wake up again. It was considered a N.E.W.T. level potion, but she was almost positive that she could brew it. Even if she messed it up, it didn't matter. She just needed to go to sleep. That was it – just sleep.

With a pleased smile, Emma opened the vial of Dreamless Sleep and downed it. Her plan would work. She just needed time.