Emma knew she was in trouble when she realized she would rather be in a room with literally any other person in the world than with her angry father. The idea of having tea with Fenrir and Jude seemed like a much more appealing thought than the current scenario. The thought nearly made her giggle at how twisted it was but laughing would make things much worse.

Remus's anger with her was palpable, tethering her to where she was, and his disappointment radiated off of his body in waves. It was terrifying.

She sat, shamefaced, on the couch, trying to avoid his gaze as he leaned back in his armchair, tapping his fingers on his knee. Remus was thinking and thinking hard. It was a grim prospect to consider all of the thoughts running through his head. Remus took in a deep breath and held it, his fingers tapping even more feverishly. He let it out slowly, shaking his head. She could feel his eyes almost literally boring holes through her skull. He took the same steadying breath once more, then twice, before speaking. It was the softness of his voice that made the situation that more off-putting.

"Emma Hope Lupin, what were you thinking? This is quite possibly the last thing I ever expected from you."

And that's saying a lot, Emma was sure Remus wanted to add. It was almost a shame that the first time he'd used her full name for the first time was when she was in trouble – it really did sound much better. Rather than answer, Emma stared down at her feet, holding herself close. She fidgeted anxiously with whatever she could – her fingers, her jumper, and then finally her hair.

"Well?" Remus asked, his tone slightly sharper, rough even. "Are you going to explain yourself?"

Emma shook her head and immediately regretted the action. As sober as she felt, the effects of the alcohol still made her head swim in a lightheaded daze. She let out a whimpering moan as she held her head in her hands to try and keep the room from spinning.

"Emma, answer me," Remus said, his tone firm.

She didn't want to, but she reluctantly met his gaze. "I don't know," she said quietly. "I just thought…"

"What did you think, Emma? That you were going to look cool? That you were going to impress your friends?"

"I don't…" Emma felt hot tears burning in her eyes, and she bit her lip, averting her gaze.

"I could handle you forging my signature to get into the Restricted Section, I could handle you sneaking off to go to class – Hell, I can handle the fact that you're not just smoking weed at the dorm parties, but you're drinking there, as well. But I cannot accept that you stole from me, Emma." Remus's breath came out sharply as he ran a hand over his face. "Emma, you should know that anything of mine I will share with you. If you really felt it was necessary to drink, I would have gotten you something that would have been much safer than Firewhiskey. I might be a professor, but I would have been willing to turn a blind eye to what you were all doing. You have had a rough few months, and if that was how you felt the need to blow off steam, I would have been fine with it. Merlin knows I was doing much worse than you at your age, but I never stole from anyone."

Remus leaned forward in his chair, elbows on his knees. "Do you even know why I have never touched that bottle? Are you aware of how absolutely disrespectful it was that you took it?"

Emma lifted her gaze to meet Remus's eyes and shook her head.

"I didn't think so," he said with a huff as he leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping once more. "I don't touch it because I needed a reminder that I stopped drinking because of you. I don't touch it because you are the reason I need to be better than what I was."

A soft gasp left Emma's lips. She had never even considered the idea, and her stomach knotted as she turned to look at the crackling fire. "Dad, I…" Emma's voice broke, and she tried to piece together all of the things she wanted to say but couldn't. "I don't…I'm sorry…"

Remus's fingers went still. The only sound that existed in the room was the crackle of the fire that suddenly felt far too warm, and Emma's sniffles as she held back her tears. "Forget it," Remus said, waving her off. "Go to your room."

It was a phrase that Emma had only heard uttered from Remus a few times, and it sounded foreign to hear. She looked back over at Remus, brows knitting together as she found him already lost in thought, staring into the fire rubbing the side of his jaw. It didn't take much for Remus to retreat into his own thoughts lately. That stomach knotting guilt only served to remind her that it was once again her fault.

With shaky legs, Emma stood, bracing herself for the world around her to spin violently, but it didn't. With a final, guilt-driven look, Emma made her way to her room, tossing herself on her bed so that she was half-on, half-off. She didn't particularly care how she landed on her bed – she felt like absolute shit. She was once again the worst daughter in the world. Emma closed her eyes as the world started to spin again. Not having to look helped.

It was hours later that Emma had the agonizing realization that she understood why people became alcoholics. She groaned as she woke up with the thought that it would almost be worth stealing the Firewhiskey again to dull the throb of her head and her thoughts. The numbness that Firewhiskey provided was long gone, leaving her in an almost blindness at how badly her head hurt. Then again, it was probably because she had yet to open her eyes.

With a pained moan, Emma sat up, trying to get her bearings. It seemed silly to know that she was in her room, but not feel like she was in her room. A lot of her disorientation had to do with the fact she woke up not entirely in the same position she had fallen asleep in. Of course, Remus had come in to get her comfortable, taking every bit of care in the world as he always did. The man was an absolute saint, and she needed to figure out the perfect Christmas gift she could think of just for dealing with her. He deserved it, and she felt he deserved much better than her for a daughter. She had treated him terribly for the entire duration of 1993.

She squinted down at her nightstand, trying to focus her eyes on her clock long enough to figure out what time it was. The blue flames in their jar seemed to dance mockingly, casting funny shadows across the clock, and she gave up. Instead, Emma looked towards her door, trying to discern whether or not there was a light on. She flicked her lamp on with an audible groan as the light practically exploded in her vision. If she thought her head hurt before, nothing compared to the sudden blast of angry crackles behind her eyes.

Everything was bright – too bright, but the damage was already done. Emma blinked against the harsh glare, face twisting into a scowl at the audacity and concept that light was bright. She started squinting at the nightstand once more to find her clock – three in the morning. That meant that Remus could either be awake or not at all. She hoped that he was asleep. The bags under his eyes told her that he slept just as infrequently as she was lately. She suddenly spotted two vials, one in purple and one of an almost calming blue color, and a glass of water sitting atop of note.

With another broken noise of pain, Emma carefully slid the note from underneath the glass tubes.

'Drink the blue potion first and then the purple. - Dad'

Did that mean Remus was giving her a reprieve from her suffering? With all the obliviousness of the world, Emma picked up the vial of blue liquid and removed the stopper. She gave it a tentative sniff, but that told her nothing. It could be any number of potions, but Remus wouldn't ever give her something damaging. Or so she thought.

At first, Emma was sure it was a potion to help with her pounding headache, but nothing was happening. She mused over it for a moment, hand reaching for the other vial, but then she knew precisely what Remus gave her. The bastard. In all fairness, it served her right.

It was a rough scramble to her toilet, and she was grateful that she had an en suite. Emma never would have made it out of her room to the bathroom on time if she were back in Upper Helmsley. She had been sick before, but not so violently. The room was too hot, she was too hot, and she was sure that she was sweating, but her face was dry except for her tears. The entire situation was miserable. If she thought the Firewhiskey was hot going down, it was even worse coming up.

Emma ran through every possible curse and hex she could think of to cast on Remus. She was angry that he didn't write down what the potion was, and she was livid that she didn't know enough to recognize it for what it was. Each time she thought she was finally done being sick, the cycle would start anew. All she wanted to do was move from her new home on the floor in front of the toilet and go back to bed.

An unwelcome shadow was cast in the doorway, but Emma refused to turn her head. It was partially because she was angry and partly because she'd finally stopped sicking up. She was afraid that she would move, it would start the cycle again.

With a soft sigh, Remus crossed the short length of the floor and sat down next to Emma. He gently pulled her hair back away from her face, tying it back loosely with an elastic that he pulled from the sink counter, and he rubbed soft circles on her back.

"Go away," Emma managed to huff out before having to pull herself over the toilet with an aggravated cry. Was it ever going to stop?

Remus chose to say nothing and kept rubbing her back despite Emma's protests. She didn't want him there. It was only when he felt that she was finally done being sick that he stopped. He reached for the glass of water he'd settled next to him and passed it to Emma, who took it shakily. She eyed Remus and then the glass cautiously before taking tentative sips. She wasn't sure that she could trust him not to slip her something else.

"Drink the whole thing," Remus said gently when she tried to pass the glass back after only a few small sips. "Trust me, you need it." She didn't want to trust him at all, but she did as she was told.

"You could have told me what that did," Emma said weakly, all resistance lost.

"I was just speeding the process along," Remus said as he reached into the pocket of his cardigan to pull out the second vial. "If my suspicions are correct, and it appears that they were, you had far too much to drink. You should've stopped a bit ago. The only reason you didn't poison yourself again…well I'll say it's one time I consider it lucky that we share the same blood. Because you have a faster metabolism, it wasn't as damaging, but it could have been much worse. I would rather not have a repeat of you poisoning yourself, thank you."

Emma blanched, taking the vial from Remus's hand. He really knew how to lay the guilt and disappointment on thick. "What's this one for?"

"The hangover," Remus said simply. "It doesn't work right away, but you'll at least feel normal when it does. You'll have to sleep the rest off."

Not wanting to get into an argument, Emma downed the liquid, nearly purring at the slight relief of her pounding head. It wasn't much, but it was just enough.

She leaned slowly towards Remus, resting her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes. Emma's head felt infinitely better with her eyes closed. After a long moment, Remus put his arm around her, tucking her into his side and rubbing her arm gently. It was almost a good side effect to Remus's lycanthropy that he had a much higher body temperature, and that heat lulled her so quickly to sleep. She wasn't sure what it felt like to be him, but it was comforting. It was unfortunate that he gave her a small shake just as she was just starting to drift off.

"Come on," he said softly, "let's get your teeth brushed and get you back in bed."

Emma gave up resisting Remus's help; she desperately needed it. She brushed her teeth, eyes half-closed, leaning on Remus for support. She mused in her haze that it was pathetic that they even had a system to get her changed for bed with his assistance while still giving her privacy. If she wasn't so exhausted, she would have half a mind to be embarrassed about it.

The moment Remus had her tucked back into bed, Emma was out like a light. She could worry about not being so terrible in the morning.

Except morning came far too quickly for her liking. It felt strange for the morning to feel normal, the pale, cold morning light shining in through her half-parted curtains. If she wasn't at Hogwarts, for a split second, she would swear she was actually at home. Perhaps, in its own way, the strange magical castle had finally become home because she got to share it with Remus.

Stepping into the shower, Emma allowed herself to shut her mind off. She had used the shower as a place to think for so long, that for once – just once, she didn't want to think. So, she didn't. At least not until she was dressed and had a touch of makeup on and stepped outside of the relative comfort of her room.

Emma was always very aware that her normal wasn't exactly normal, but for a moment, it felt like it. Most people weren't magical, and most people certainly didn't have a werewolf for a father. In a different world, things would be exactly as they were just outside her door, only slightly different.

She could imagine herself back in Upper Helmsley with Remus, where she just so happened to attend the same school he taught at. English, probably. Remus seemed like he would be an English teacher, talking about all classic authors and when he felt like having fun, whimsical fairytales. Perhaps history – absolutely not science, especially chemistry because she learned he was absolute bollocks at Potions because of his over-sensitive nose. He attempted to help her one time while working with Pomfrey, and it nearly ended in disaster. Much like she was banned from cooking at home for creating chaos, Remus was forbidden from touching her Potions supplies.

In a different world, Remus would be sitting at the kitchen table pouring through tests he needed to grade. He would have that pinched look of concentration he had now, tongue poking out between his teeth as he chewed on the end of his pen. Emma had to suppress her snort because so many people had commented that she did the exact same thing.

He wouldn't be a werewolf in her alternate universe, though. Remus would be an ordinary, boring Muggle and a slightly overbearing mother-like parent. He would make sure that she was all set for the day, never letting her leave without a hug and a kiss that she would pretend to hate. Perhaps, if she allowed herself to imagine it, even Sirius could be sitting across the table from Remus drinking tea. Or coffee. She had no idea what the man would have for breakfast, but she could see it.

He would be equally as dull and Muggle-like, but the other proud parent in their strange little family. Based on his reactions to Quidditch, Emma knew Sirius would be the one teaching her to play soccer and taking her to practices. He would be the parent screaming from the sidelines while Remus would watch with that soft, proud smile he sometimes wore.

Instead of Sirius being a dog, they would have a massive black Irish Wolfhound with some silly name. Sirius never would have gone after Peter. He would have stayed home with them, where he belonged, but that's even if her theory was correct. Was it worth having a fantasy if it could never come true?

She must have been standing in her doorway for far too long as Remus looked up at her, concern cutting through the still-disappointed look on his face.

"Are you all right?" he finally asked, setting his pen down and tilting his head.

"Yeah," Emma said quietly, looking over at the kitchen counter curiously. There was a single bowl there, but she wasn't sure if it was for her.

Remus studied her for a moment before returning to what he was doing. "I know you're probably tempted to have something greasy, but fruit will be much healthier for you right now. As tempting as a full English would be, trust me – you'll regret it later."

It was terrifying that he knew that she wanted exactly that for breakfast, but she wasn't in a position to argue. She padded, almost cautiously, across the kitchen to pick up the bowl of fruit. Rather than bothering with a fork, she dug right in with her fingers. It was mostly assorted berries and cut bits of melon that were easy to eat. No fork necessary. She plucked a raspberry out and held it out towards Remus who gave her a look before taking it from her and putting it in his mouth.

"You know, it's rather rude that you try to win me over with raspberries," he said, marking the test he had, setting it aside, and picking up another.

"And it's rather rude that you try to win me over with chocolate," Emma replied, sitting across from Remus and looking curiously at the tests.

"They're not for your class," he said, glancing up at Emma with a mischievous glint in his eye that she hadn't seen in some time. "Now that I know you've been going through my things, I'm taking great care in making sure you don't find my grade book."

"And you call me rude?" Emma grumbled. "Not my fault you left it right on your desk for anyone to see."

"I have never left it right on my desk."

"You have when you've fallen asleep in your office chair," Emma countered, watching almost nervously as Remus's eyebrows practically reached his hairline. He paused what he was doing and looked up at Emma fully, almost as if he was looking at her for the first time. There was a long moment of hesitation where he just tapped his pen on the table, debating with himself.

"Sometimes, you do things that make complete sense to me, but then there are times when I wonder who you get your quirks from," Remus said quietly. "I see it with Harry, too, but at least him I understand. You, I'm still not sure of, but there's no doubt that either of you are the children of Marauders."

There was a flicker of recognition in Emma's mind – the Marauders. Remus said the word sometimes, but it only came up randomly, almost by accident. She was always sure that Remus never meant to say it, but it slipped out anyway. She knew it was something from his school days, but she didn't understand what it actually meant. Emma had to stuff her mouth with several berries to keep herself from talking. She feared that if she did, Remus would stop talking.

It was rare for Remus to start a story or talk about anything significant to him without any prompting on her part. When he did, she always made sure to listen because it happened so infrequently. Remus had become increasingly open, but most times, she still had to try and bring up her questions herself. Conversations on their every-day life or her were easy because it didn't involve Remus having to talk about himself. Still, she wished he would tell her more. She enjoyed learning about the person he was, and his stories from his Hogwarts days were always her favorite.

Her hopes were short-lived as she saw that flicker of doubt in Remus's eyes, and he retreated back into himself. He studied her for a moment longer before returning to the test he was grading, and the moment was lost.

Emma stared down at the bowl of fruit in her hand, taking a raspberry for herself and then holding out another for Remus. He looked at the raspberry, sighed, and to Emma's surprise, leaned forward to take it very carefully with his teeth.

"Never thought I'd see that day you do that," Emma said in amusement.

"Yes, well, as I said, it's rather rude of you to try and win me over with raspberries when you know I can't resist them," Remus said, gesturing pointedly to the test in front of him. "I'm not sure a student would be too appreciative of me getting raspberry on their test."

"I see your point," Emma said, biting back her grin. This was normal – she enjoyed normal, but she was worried. This was too normal. Remus had yet to bring up what happened the day before again, and it made nervous. Emma couldn't believe that she was willingly turning herself into the equivalent of Hermione, reminding a professor they had work to hand in.

"Sooo," she said slowly, toying with the blueberry between her fingers, "you're not mad about yesterday?"

"Oh, no, I'm quite angry about it," Remus said after a beat. "But I think that, for now, we should have our break be relaxing as possible. You deserve to be punished for your actions, but we both need to rest. I'll reserve my real punishment for when term starts again." He looked up from the note he was writing on the current test in front of him. "You're not quite out of the woods yet, my dear." He punctuated his sentence with a smile that didn't quite meet his eyes.

Emma grimaced, her stomach sinking at the thought. Now she had to sit and wonder what her punishment would be for nearly three weeks. She had no idea what to expect since she'd never gotten into big trouble with Remus before. She set her almost empty bowl of fruit on the table, needing a moment to let her nerves settle. Emma hoped that Remus would somehow forget all about what happened by the time break was over, but she knew better. Remus forgot nothing, but at least he got through the worst of it the previous night. She hoped. "What are our plans for break? Not sure what to expect with having a Hogwarts Christmas."

"Well, we've got three nights at home, at least, possibly four. We're not going to be here the entire time. You have your appointment with the therapist next week, so we'll be in London for –"

"London? I thought they were coming here?"

Remus sighed, setting his pen down. "Elara Floo called this morning to say the therapist wants to meet at St. Mungo's for the first appointment."

"But you promised I wouldn't have to go to St. Mungo's again…"

"I know," Remus said, holding a hand up to keep Emma quiet. "I'm not too thrilled about it either, but it would be more difficult for them to get here for possibly only a single appointment. Remember, they're a Muggle with a magical sibling, sweetheart. They know of our world, but they're not directly a part of it. Elara did her best to find someone that would most likely work best for you. If everyone decides to move forward, then we'll discuss them coming here."

"But it's St. Mungo's…"

"You're not going to be there alone. Elara said, if you'd like, I can be in the appointment with you. If not me, then Elara was willing to sit in with you if you wanted someone with you."

Emma frowned, grumpily grabbing a strawberry and biting into it. "I don't even want to go anymore."

"I know, but I promise it'll be fine. I thought we could spend the day in London since we haven't ventured out into the city. It's Christmas time, so there will be plenty to do. Perhaps we'll go to another Christmas market since you enjoyed the one in Cardiff last year."

The idea of going to a market perked Emma up slightly. "I did like it," she admitted. "I liked it a lot."

"Then we'll find a market to go to. Multiple if you'd like, and you can get all of the hot chocolate in the world. Or we'll find something else to do while in London. Your appointment is early, so we'll have all day. Besides, I've had absolutely no time to get any Christmas shopping done for you."

A small smile crossed Emma's face. Leave it to her father to know to win her over with the prospect of hot chocolate and Christmas lights. Christmas presents were always a bonus since Remus always seemed to have the best gifts for her. She met Remus's gaze to find that he was smiling back at her.

"What else are we doing?" Emma asked, now finding herself intrigued by what else they could be doing.

"Well, I thought we would go home for a day so that I can check on things. I thought you'd appreciate being home for a little bit, and there are a few things I'd like to take care of. Then, we'll go to your grandfather's for Christmas Eve and come back here on Christmas day."

Emma's smile dropped as she ran through the dates of when they would be away. "What about your potion?" Emma asked suddenly. She didn't even consider the possibility of not being around to work on making the Wolfsbane Potion with Professor Snape. As much as she didn't want to see the dungeon bat, she would have to talk to him.

"I'll Apparate into Hogsmeade and meet him there each day we're away. We've already made arrangements this morning," Remus said, shaking his head. "I told you – you're not supposed to worry about me. Although, he did say something curious…"

"What did he say?" Emma's eyes were wide. Did Snape tell Remus what they were doing?

"Well, imagine my surprise when he said to wish you a Merry Christmas," Remus said slowly as if he didn't quite believe it himself. "But then he also said to not worry about what you had previously discussed and to see him when we returned. What's that about?"

Emma sunk back into her chair with relief. "Just some extra credit I'm doing," Emma said, for once not feeling bad about lying to Remus. But was it a lie? It wasn't as though she was getting any real credit for it, but it was beneficial. "I didn't realize how much I'd fallen behind. It's a research project."

"A research project?" Remus asked. "Extra credit? From Severus?"

"Yeah," Emma said, reaching for the last strawberry in her bowl. "Had to practically beg for it, but it's fine. It's just about…healing potions and their overall effectiveness. Thought it might be a good use of my time since I've been working with Madam Pomfrey." Was it a lie if it was partially true? Theoretically, the Wolfsbane Potion could be considered a healing potion if one considered its other effects. Emma added a nod, deciding that it wasn't a lie, just a stretch of the truth.

Remus nodded slowly, and though he still looked suspicious, he looked as though he partially believed her. "Well, I suppose that's all right then. I'm sure you would have my head if you fell behind in Potions. Anyway, we need to discuss what's happening when we get back here…"

"Oh, no," Emma muttered. "You're using that tone that tells me you're going to tell me something I don't like."

"Professor Sprout told me that you're the only Hufflepuff staying over Christmas," Remus said, bracing himself for Emma's reaction.

"I'm what? How?"

"It seems everyone wanted to go home this year, but the issue is that the full is on the twenty-eighth, and I don't want you by yourself. You do a wonderful job of getting yourself into trouble, and I fear what will happen if you're entirely on your own."

"So, then I just stay here. You're not going to do anything to me if you're taking the potion."

"Absolutely not," Remus said firmly. "I told you that you will never be near me when I'm transformed. Don't even consider the idea. So, you have two options. Hermione will be staying over break, and you can either spend the night in Gryffindor tower, or she can join you in Hufflepuff for the night."

"You've got to be kidding me. Hermione?"

"Do you have any other ideas? I'm afraid there aren't many of you staying this year, and only you, Harry, Ron, and Hermione are staying from the third year."

"Yes! I do have another idea!" Emma said in alarm. "It's called you let me stay here!"

"No," Remus repeated. "Fy nghariad bach, please – it's just one night."

Emma didn't at all like the idea of having to spend the night with Hermione Granger of all people. "Fine," she muttered. "But she's coming down to Hufflepuff. I'm not going into the lion's den."

"Did you just refer to Gryffindor tower as 'the lion's den?'"

"It's fitting if those three are together," Emma said quietly. "Ron doesn't like me, Hermione can be rather annoying, and Harry… Well, Harry's all right, I suppose. But the three of them together are an absolute bloody nightmare. I have nothing in common with them."

Remus noticed the start of Emma's panic attack well before it started and was on his feet, tugging Emma up and pulling her to the living room. He settled her on the couch, leaving her confused, and grabbed a blanket, wrapping her in it tightly. Emma looked sufficiently baffled by his actions, and he smirked at his job well done.

"What did you do that for?" Emma asked, ruffled by the sudden change.

"I needed you to stop thinking for a moment, and clearly, it worked." He bent down to kiss her forehead. "You need to relax. You're on break. In the meantime, I still have work to do, but I'll move it in here, and you can sit and be grumpy on the couch. Just because I'm waiting until after the holiday to give you your punishment, you're not entirely off the hook."

"Fine," Emma said with a glower, pulling the blanket tighter around her body as she laid down on the couch.

Remus smiled and made his way back to the kitchen to collect the tests he'd been grading. He dropped them off in the living room and decided that he should finally use a quill to work on grading the rest and went to grab that, too. At least that could be easier to be controlled by magic if he eventually gave up on actually looking at the tests. For good measure, he grabbed a book for Emma to read whenever she felt like it. There was a strong possibility she would want to sleep most of the day away.

When Remus returned, he wasn't expecting Emma's eyes to zero in on the book held in his hand, gears spinning rapidly in her mind. He wasn't sure what was making Emma's forehead wrinkle in such intense concentration as she stared at the book. There was nothing about War and Peace that could inspire such a startled look on her face. He opened his mouth to ask, but before he had a chance, Emma was already sitting up.

"I have to go to Hogsmeade today," she said abruptly. She looked up at him almost pleadingly. "I-I know you're going to want to say no, and I know I really don't deserve to go after yesterday, but I really need to go to Hogsmeade."

It wasn't even a thought in his mind to allow her to go on the final Hogsmeade trip of the year. Even without Emma's blatant disrespect, they had already discussed that she wouldn't be going weeks ago. It was too dangerous, too open, and with little protection. It wasn't as though anti-werewolf enchantments could be placed just because Remus needed to frequent the village. Emma would be too exposed, and it didn't sit right with him. She had already agreed, not wanting to visit without him or even Elara, but she was suddenly insistent.

"Sweetheart," he said slowly, setting the book down and watching as Emma's eyes followed it. There was no reason for her to be so focused on the book or have a sudden need to go into the village. "We already talked about this."

"I know," Emma said quickly, her eyes darting between the book and Remus's face as if she were trying to piece together an intricate puzzle. "But I need to go. I…" She hesitated, pulling the blanket off of her shoulders, leaning forward and staring intently at the book. "I need to do something. Please, it's really, really important."

"But Emma…if Fenrir's there –"

"Then he's there," Emma huffed out, rubbing her forehead. "I can't be scared of him or let him keep me from doing things. I know I'm not making any sense right now, but…I need to go. For an hour, an hour and a half – at most. Please, Dad."

Remus looked down at the book and back at Emma. The idea of letting Emma back into Hogsmeade by herself left him with an intense feeling of foreboding. His lips pressed into a thin line as he thought about it, taking in Emma's expectant expression. "Give me a moment," he said with a sigh, stepping into his bedroom to retrieve something. He picked up the Sickle on his dresser, careful to hold it on the edges, and stared at it. Remus was sure that he was making a terrible decision.

He stepped back into the living room, not at all surprised that Emma was waiting for him impatiently. It was clear that there was something important in her mind that she needed to take care of; he just wished he understood what. This wasn't a normal reaction from Emma, and he didn't know what to think of it.

"This is a Portkey," Remus said, holding up the Sickle. "It's not a real Sickle, and it will bring you right back here. Dumbledore and I decided it would be the best bet if you needed to get out of a bad situation and quickly. Technically speaking, it shouldn't exist as only me and Professor Dumbledore know about it. I am only giving this to you because we haven't come up with another solution yet. Do you understand?"

Emma nodded fervently, her eyes wide.

A frown crossed Remus's face, unable to believe what he was doing, but he struggled to deny Emma most things. She had gone without so much for so long that he couldn't stand the idea of being the reason she was kept from doing something. "You are not to store this with your other money. You are to keep it in your pocket and your pocket only. It will activate if you hold it in the palm of your hand for three seconds."

"Yes," Emma said quickly. "I-I understand."

"Get your things," Remus sighed, watching Emma practically launch herself off the couch to get ready.

Dread was pitted in his stomach, and he was getting lightheaded. He hated the idea of letting her go back into the village so soon, especially since he taught her absolutely nothing of use. Remus had plenty of reasons to force her to stay, but her pleading puppy dog eyes did him in every time. Emma very rarely begged him for something, and he knew, almost without a doubt, that she would win against him every time if she did.

She quickly returned, making a show of making sure to keep her wand stored in the inside front pocket of her coat. He eyed her boots curiously and had to concede at least it was a better option than what she usually wore. Remus found himself surprised that she had even taken the time to tuck her hair into her slouched knit hat. She was trying not to take any chances. At the very least, she learned quickly, but it didn't make him feel much better. Emma pulled open the front right pocket of her coat, waiting impatiently for Remus to drop the pseudo Sickle into it.

Reluctantly, Remus dropped the Portkey into her pocket. He pulled Emma into a tight hug to try and stifle his growing anxiety. "Maybe I should just go with you," Remus muttered, about to let go of her to grab his things, but Emma held onto him tighter.

"No," she said, "I need to do this by myself." She pulled away, her smile tremulous. "Are you a Gryffindor or not? Where's the lion?" she asked, giving him a gentle, playful shove. "I'll be fine. I promise."

Before Remus even had a chance to say another word, Emma was out the door. He couldn't help but feel as though history was about to repeat itself. Remus knew that he should follow her, keep her from wandering far, but instead, he forced himself to sit down to work on grading his pile of tests. As nervous as he was, he couldn't allow himself to imagine the worst and trust that Emma's instincts didn't fail her. Remus looked at the book sitting on the coffee table, wishing he understood its significance, sighed, and picked up his quill.

A/N: For the longest time I had a really consistent posting schedule for this story, but I'm going to drop it in favor of posting when chapters are done. I'm driving myself insane feeling like I need to wait for specific days, especially because there's so much to write for year three! Now that we're at Christmas, things are going to pick up. I'll admit my post schedule might not be entirely consistent, but there will be a chapter at least once a week as I'm starting to work on the next book. Now that the story is more solidified at this point, I finally feel confident to try and get ahead. I'm hoping to have year three finished by the end of October, and then I'll start year four a week or two after.

I have the final line written for year three and I do NOT think anyone is going to want me to wait to jump into the next installment.

notthatchhavi: I know Remus doesn't do much with Emma's drinking, but once a Marauder, always a Marauder. Emma's absolutely not off the hook.

Lu! I'm so sorry that I didn't see your review before posting the last chapter! I didn't receive the notification until after I posted it - I didn't forget you! ThNk you again for your reviews, and I'm glad you've enjoyed the past few chapters!