Fenrir is his own warning - expect nothing and everything

Emma didn't care too much that Remus had to drop her off at Saint Nicholas's, and she even welcomed it. She couldn't be happier about the fact that she was only stuck in the children's home for just a little over twelve hours more. At nine in the morning, Remus would be coming back to meet with Mrs. Bryce to sign paperwork, and they were going home. It felt so much better than the first time she got to leave.

"You promise that you're finally going to tell me everything? You swear that I won't get to learn ridiculous information from another werewolf?" Emma asked, still entirely unwilling to let go of Remus and go back into the building. She felt funny standing outside of the home with Remus, never wanting to subject him to what her life was like at Saint Nicholas's.

"Yes, I promise," Remus sighed, pressing multiple kisses to the top of her head. "I don't think I need to be on the receiving end of your wand again," he said, a hint of a smile in his voice. "You are a terrifying opponent, love."

"Good," Emma said, squeezing Remus tighter. "I want to be terrifying."

Remus chuckled, leaning back so he could take Emma's face between his hands. "You are indeed a force to be reckoned with, my ferocious little badger," he said fondly.

"I'm not a lion today?" Emma said with a pout.

"You are always a lion, but no one ever expects the fierceness of a badger, and you, my dear, have plenty of it."

It was enough to pull a pleased smile to Emma's face that only grew when Remus leaned down to kiss her forehead. She pulled her face out of Remus's hands to melt back into his embrace. With a sigh, she turned her head to stare at the front doors of the children's home.

"When I leave, I never want to set foot back here again," Emma said quietly. "I want to leave and forget it entirely…as if this was never a part of my life."

"And you will," Remus said, pressing more kisses to the top of Emma's head and pulling away. "Now go. Morning will come before you know it."

Emma looked between Remus and the door of Saint Nicholas's with a frown. She grabbed onto his hand, dreading the moment he had to leave. "You know, a part of me always found it silly…the sun," she added when Remus looked at her questioningly. "I think I'm finally starting to understand…"

Remus sighed, tugging Emma back into his arms. "Oh, Emma Hope, you never cease to know how to break my heart over and over again," Remus murmured.

"Sorry," Emma said with a watery giggle.

"Don't apologize. Just one more night, and then we can put all of this aside for now."

Having her own wand was a small comfort, and she kept it tucked away. The moment she was in the confines of her room, she changed into her softest t-shirt and threw on a cardigan, tucking her wand inside the front. A part of her was tempted to change out of her jeans, but she didn't want to make things easy. There were no guarantees on who her visitor would be that night, but at least she was better prepared.

Emma didn't bother leaving her light on and shut it off even before her door was locked for the night. She felt it was stupid that they still kept the door locked, considering everything that had happened, but Emma wasn't going to fight it. There was just one more night left, and that's what she chose to focus on. She would have one final night on her own with no Aurors running checks of the building. Emma would have to manage on her own no matter what.

She needed something to do, and she dumped the contents of her bag out on the bed. Clothes, books, and a mixture of different food items fell out onto the mattress, and Emma sighed. After her stay in St. Mungo's, everything had been thrown into her bag haphazardly, and it showed. Everything came out as a pure mess, and it was a wonder she was able to pack anything from Diagon Alley away.

"And this is why Dad's the one who packs," Emma muttered under her breath, rubbing the back of her neck. It was a fact that she desperately needed Remus's excellent organization skills to pack her things. She had a tendency of just shoving things into her bags, and she grimaced at how much of a mess her trunk was before leaving school. In her anxiety over Remus resigning, she just gave up entirely on packing her things to make sure everything for home was correctly packed. Emma wondered if Remus had unpacked for her or if all of her things sat in her trunk, just as messy as she remembered.

She was in the middle of folding clothes when she heard a thud and a low, "Ow." Emma couldn't help but smile knowing who her companion was one last time.

"You know, you're not a very elegant werewolf sometimes, Boris," Emma said, looking over her shoulder to see Boris sitting up on the floor. "Are you sure that you're one of the best?"

"I am absolutely one of the best," Boris huffed, folding his arms and stretching his legs out. "You try getting through the window over a bush."

"I don't know why you don't just climb over the dresser," Emma said pointedly. "It's not as though you'd be disturbing anything if you did."

Boris shrugged. "It's faster to go over the bush."

Emma couldn't help her laugh, and she dug through the things she still had on her bed. She had asked Remus to bring her a few things from home after dropping off their ice cream from Fortescue's in the hopes Boris would visit. "I have something to show you," Emma said, reaching for the pile of photographs that Fenrir himself had given her months prior. There were a few that had her and Boris in them, along with Persephone. She wondered if it would jog his memory to see them. "Do you remember me at all?"

"No," Boris said, shaking his head. He pushed himself along the floor to lean against the wall beneath the window. "I know you've said I should, but I don't. It's just your scent that's familiar."

"I thought so," Emma said, sitting down next to him. "Sometimes, I forget that I don't look like how I used to." She shuffled through the photos to find one of just her and Boris hugging each other and held it towards him. "That's us when we were younger."

Boris looked at the photo curiously and then at Emma, and then back at the picture. "That's you?" he asked, not quite believing it. He took the photo from Emma's hand and held it up to compare Emma in the image to Emma in the present. "Emma?" he asked in disbelief. "This is…but you don't…this isn't you. You're a completely different person."

"I know," Emma said quietly, flipping through the photos. "But that's me."

"Emma?" Boris repeated, not believing that the red-haired girl in the photo was the same person sitting next to him. "What happened? Why don't you look like this anymore?"

A small smile crossed her face as she leaned over to rest her head on Boris's shoulder. "I finally found out where I truly belong," she said. "I'm just sorry that I lost a few people along the way, but as a very dear friend told me, the things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end."

A companionable silence fell until Boris turned his head to shove his nose into Emma's hair to smell her. She tried to stop herself from giggling, but it was impossible to stop with how intent he was sniffing her. There were just certain things that she was never going to get used to, and Boris's not so subtle sniffing was one of them.

"You smell like you," Boris said after a moment, poking Emma's sides with a lopsided grin. "But you really do not look like you. How do I know you're not telling me a lie?"

"Because I remember you kissing the other girl in the photos," Emma said. "You decided to kiss Persephone for whatever reason, and we both ran off. You cried."

"Did not," Boris huffed.

"Did too," Emma said, flipping to another photo to show him. "You cried, and Fenrir thought it was funny. He said one day girls wouldn't run away from you like that."

Boris huffed again, looking at the next photo Emma showed him. He sighed and threw an arm around Emma's shoulder. "I suppose it really is you, though. Always wondered where you went to. Does that make us friends?"

"It always did," Emma said, surprised to find herself meaning it. She really liked Boris's company, but she had no idea how things would work when she went home. "Boris, I'm not going to be here anymore after tomorrow," she added, looking up to meet Boris's confused look. "I'm leaving here."

"Forever?" he asked with a frown.

"Forever."

"But Fenrir said –"

"Fenrir doesn't know," Emma said. "I'm not meant to be here, but you know that. So, I'm leaving. I'm meant to be back where I belong…"

"With your pack?"

Emma nodded, "With my pack."

"Does that mean I can't see you again?" Boris asked, sounding genuinely upset by the idea. "If you're going back with your pack –"

"I don't know," Emma admitted. "I really don't. And Boris? You can tell Fenrir that I'm leaving, but you can't tell him where I'm going. He doesn't need to know."

"All right," Boris said uncertainly.

Emma felt terrible and wondered if she could somehow figure out how to keep talking to Boris. A brilliant idea crossed her mind to distract them both from the news. "Hey, Boris, if I show you something, you promise not to tell Fenrir, right?"

Boris's face lit up, and he nodded. "I promise."

"Good," Emma said, reaching into her cardigan to pull out her wand and handing it to Boris. "I want you to try this."

Emma could honestly say that she was going to wind up missing Boris. He was one of the first friends she had ever made in her life, and their friendship felt natural even years later. There was nothing forced between them as if they were always meant to be friends. They came from two very different but somewhat similar worlds. Still, despite that, they had one significant thing in common – they both could do magic.

She enjoyed showing Boris how to use a wand and enjoyed showing him magic that he could do himself. He brightened up considerably when he lit up Emma's wand for the first time, unaware he could even control magic that way. Emma let him practice lighting and extinguishing her wand while she packed, glad to see how excited he was. She just hoped that Boris had enough sense to not say a word to Fenrir, though she worried Fenrir would know anyway. Emma hoped that such low-energy spells wouldn't be as evident to Fenrir, especially since she had been in Diagon Alley all day.

It was a surprising feat that Emma kept herself up until nearly three in the morning before deciding she should sleep. She didn't particularly want to tell Boris goodnight, afraid of never seeing him again, but at some point, their paths would cross again; Emma was sure of it. Tucking her wand back into the front of her cardigan, she got into bed and curled up. She wished that she didn't ask Remus to bring Patches and Bee home for her, but sleep came easier than it had in weeks.

Emma wasn't entirely sure why she was at all surprised to be woken up earlier than she wanted to be. She had been having a very pleasant dream when her entire being started to process that she wasn't alone.

Her initial feeling was confusion, not understanding what the issue was. The hand combing through her hair was gentle, massaging all of the parts she liked best, especially the spot near the base of her skull. Logic told her that she had slept through straight to nine in the morning, and Remus was waking her up so they could go home. This was precisely how Remus woke her up most mornings, knowing that she startled out of her sleep otherwise. As her senses started to wake up, she felt her blood run cold when she realized that it wasn't Remus at all and someone else knew exactly how to wake her up. As the scent of Fenrir's cologne hit her nose, she should have known that her departure from the children's home wouldn't go flawlessly.

During her stay in St. Mungo's, she had been given a lot of time to think about her interactions with Fenrir over the years. He was careful to expose her to different things to make up for the lack of senses as a human. She didn't have the better eyesight or the hearing, but he trained her in his own ways to notice the smallest of details or listen for the lightest of sounds. His attempts at exposing her to different foods had wound up backfiring as she had grown to detest certain meals. However, he never bothered to focus on scent when she was growing up, something he was very clearly doing now.

As if she were a werewolf, Fenrir wore cologne to give himself a distinct scent she could recognize. So much of a werewolf's existence relied on smell for tracking, for discovering, for learning. Emma couldn't accurately say what Fenrir's natural scent was, not in the way she could easily recognize Remus's after so much time together. Fenrir knew very well that Emma wasn't close enough to him to manage such a thing, and the cologne made up for that weakness. It was almost brilliant, clever even. Emma hated it.

Emma could feel her heart start to race with her anxiety. She could feel it threatening to take over, but Fenrir's hand in her hair kept her level; she didn't want it to.

It bothered her, lying there with Fenrir acting as though nothing was wrong. She hated that someone she had cared about had hurt her so much. Even worse, Emma hated that she still didn't hate him. She felt like a kicked dog, trying to grasp anything and everything she knew about Fenrir to justify what he did to her. She was equal parts scared, angry, and hurt, but then there was that opposing side of her, the annoyingly stronger side, that still just wanted to be loved. As much as she tried to erase the decade of her life away from her family, she couldn't. All she had known for so long was Fenrir, and Fenrir alone.

Emma wanted to lean greedily into his touch and take advantage of what he was offering her. She wanted to melt into the softness of his touch as if it were tangible proof that he actually loved her. She wanted to curl herself around him and beg for the love that she felt that she deserved from him. What was wrong with her?

She cracked open her eyes slowly, aggravated that she didn't immediately want to lash out at Fenrir. Instead, her brain was telling her to take things slow - process first, react later. It seemed counterproductive with Fenrir being right there, but even her wolfish side was quick to agree to take things slow. If Soleil was saying to go along with it, Emma had no choice but to follow suit.

Emma started by taking in the view outside her window. The sky was on its way to lightening up, the morning sun still weak. Her clock said that there was still an hour and a half until Remus arrived, and the staff would be in the middle of shifting from night to day shifts. It would be just like any other day, for the most part. Very slowly, she finally looked at Fenrir, her stomach doing a flip at how he was looking at her.

It was the sort of look that she didn't want from Fenrir - one that held a depth of genuine love and worry. It pulled feelings from her that she knew were wrong, and yet there they were, betraying every part of the rational side of her brain.

She wanted to drown herself within the warmth that radiated in the warmth of his typically cold amber eyes. It made her sick. She hated that she had such a sick and desperate need to still want his approval, be the things that he wanted her to be. She hated herself, hated that if things were different, she would willingly allow him to stay in her life. Emma knew the difference between what love actually was and what Fenrir did to her, and yet… She was filled with such a deep self-loathing that it made her wonder if Remus felt the same way towards Fenrir, and it was why he held such disgust of himself.

She knew that her confused feelings were why she needed to start therapy again right away. Emma more than acknowledged that it was more than just an insurance policy for her recovery, to keep her from slipping into old habits. However, she was worried that it wouldn't do a thing for her. Her treatment was for Muggles, which she most definitely was not. To make things even more complicated, she wasn't entirely human either. She existed as half of a half-breed, neither one thing nor the other, and she still couldn't wrap her mind around that. That information about herself was only compounded by her stay in the hospital, forced to be brought up in her care plan.

Emma had listened to Remus's conversation with Elara in St. Mungo's while pretending to read, wanting to figure out all of the things they weren't telling her. They spoke as if she wasn't there sometimes, as if her silence meant she also couldn't hear. Emma had almost wished she didn't listen to them. Even though it was evident that Fenrir had every desire to bite her just because he could, at the end of the day, there were other motives behind it.

First was that it was his way of claiming her. If she were to be approached by another male werewolf with questionable motives, it would make them think twice. If the scars on her face didn't give away which pack she ultimately belonged to, her altered scent from the bites would. Fenrir's reputation ran far and wide, and he wasn't going to take any chances with her.

Second, it fell in line with what Fenrir told her about having the pack follow her if he allowed it. Having such prominent bites heightened her status, somehow made her seem more powerful. As females often didn't survive, multiple bites and surviving suggested her strength. It made her wonder why Elara didn't have a higher position in Fenrir's pack, knowing she had multiple bites. As Emma thought about it, she realized that if she knew Elara as well as she thought, it was most likely by design. There was safety sitting firmly in the middle of a situation.

Third, and possibly the worst bit of information to find out, was it could potentially give him more control over her like she was a full werewolf. She had just enough of the lycanthropy disease running through her veins that there was a chance she would be more willing to obey Fenrir's commands. She had no idea that was even a possibility, but it made sense in a way. In the few instances Remus spoke of his time in the pack, he had brought up the absolute control that Fenrir could have. She didn't entirely understand it, but she hoped Remus would finally explain it to her. The conversation had become more interesting when Elara had pointed out that Emma seemed to easily defy Remus whenever she wished. It didn't even occur to Emma that Remus could have the same power if he wanted, but Remus shook his head in response. He insisted it was different and that was the end of the conversation, but it left Emma curious.

Every single one of those conversations ran through her head as she stared back at Fenrir, trying to find the feelings she needed to pull forward. It took an incredible amount of effort for Emma to finally look away from Fenrir.

"Don't look at me like that," Emma muttered, forcing herself to lean away from Fenrir's touch.

"Like what?" he asked, his tone deceptively soft.

"Like you actually give a shit about me," she said with a growl.

Fenrir dropped his hand into his lap, and Emma could feel his piercing gaze. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Don't play stupid," Emma grumbled, sitting up to shoot Fenrir a glare. "It's safe to assume that if I ask, you aren't going to leave?" Fenrir arched an eyebrow, and Emma rolled her eyes. She didn't even know why she bothered to say a word. "Fine…stay, I guess. I should have known that I wasn't getting out of here without having to deal with you again."

She was grateful that Fenrir bothered to let her escape the confines of her room to head to the bathroom. It gave her the time she needed to try and regroup, to try and shake off the feelings she had. She looked at her watch and groaned. Time was moving much too slowly for her liking. Emma leaned down to press her forehead to the edge of the sink, trying to work through every stirring emotion she had. Emma thought she would be more terrified of Fenrir than she was after everything, but she wasn't. It was a small comfort that she could think rationally while not being in the room with him. She could handle herself for a little over an hour, but what did she want to do?

Was she going to be able to get Fenrir to leave before Remus got there? Did she want Remus there while Fenrir was there? From what she had come to understand, Remus made it a point to avoid Fenrir at all costs over the years. Remus's fear of Fenrir ran much deeper than hers did, and she understood why. The only incident that she knew about that put them in any near proximity to each other was last year in the woods behind the cottage.

The thought nearly knocked the wind out of her lungs with realization. Was that entire moment planned? Did Fenrir make Persephone drag her out of the house under the guise of trying to figure out where Remus went the night of the full moon? She staggered back from the sink to lean against the wall. Did that mean the moment in her first year when Fenrir slipped into her room was planned as well? It had to have been. The response back from Persephone was very clearly in her writing…

It gave her the anger that she needed, and she made sure that her wand was still tucked away in her cardigan. If Boris had any loyalty to her, then Fenrir would still be utterly oblivious to her having her wand. She had a weapon that she could use and the added element of surprise. She could trust that Remus taught her more than enough to defend herself if she needed to. Worst case scenario, Sirius's knife had found a near-permanent home in the front left pocket of her jeans.

Even though Fenrir was a significant part of her life, Emma knew that he wasn't what defined her. She could take advantage of what he taught her, would have to start thinking like him, but she was much better than that. She was both of her father's daughter, equal parts of Sirius and Remus in both the best and worst ways possible. She was stubborn and brilliant, impulsive and clever, a Lupin by blood, and a Black by chosen family. Emma was going to live up to those claims, even if it was the last thing she did.

"My God, Fenrir, your timing is immaculate," Emma said, punctuating her sentence with a long and drawn-out sigh as she stepped back into her room. "And here I thought I would get out of here without having to see you again."

Fenrir remained on her bed, though she noticed that the windows were closed. He wasn't going to let her go easy, and though it made her nervous, Emma closed the door behind her. The last time she was locked in a room with Fenrir didn't end well, but she needed to know where he kept his wand hidden that day. It was almost too easy. It made Emma worried that Fenrir knew that she had her wand and could be quick to attack. She watched closely as he pulled his wand from the inside of his coat to cast a silencing charm and to lock the door. He was quick to tuck it back into his coat, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"Where are you going?" Fenrir asked, in a tone that sounded foreign coming from him. It took Emma a moment to realize there was a hint of worry in his voice. He had absolutely no idea where she was going, and it sent a delighted chill down her spine. It was thrilling that she could even evoke such a strong emotion from him.

"Doesn't matter," Emma shrugged, looking away. "I'm getting out of here, and if I'm lucky, I don't ever have to see you again."

Fenrir was quick to his feet, planting himself right in front of her, backing her up against the door. She flinched as his hands came up to take her face between his hands to lift her face to look at him. There was a flicker of something unreadable behind Fenrir's eyes, and as much as Emma tried to place it, she couldn't.

"And where were you yesterday?"

"Awful lot of questions you're asking, Fenrir," Emma muttered, looking away from his searching gaze. "For someone who hated me asking them questions, you certainly have quite a few of your own." Swallowing hard, Emma allowed Fenrir to brush his thumbs over her cheeks, against the scars he created across her face. She was told to play the game, and she would. She only had an hour left to get through, and that gave her an hour to get more information.

"Beautiful," he murmured, almost to himself as he studied what he had done. He tipped her face up further, though Emma kept her gaze averted. If he was so fascinated, he could look all he wanted; it would buy her more time.

"Why do you refuse to tell me where you've been and where you're going?" Fenrir asked, a low growl in his voice.

"I told you, it doesn't matter," Emma said, nothing bothering to mask her returning growl. "Are you going to pretend that you care about me now?"

"I'm not pretending," Fenrir said stiffly.

"You attacked me, Fenrir."

"I saved you. I have devoted my time to you."

"Saved me from what?"

Fenrir's hand came up to grip her face underneath her chin, his hold more insistent, forcing her to finally make eye contact again. When Emma looked into his eyes, she was very quickly reminded of the other side of Fenrir that she had started to know. He was possessive and demanding, and that softness went away. He never liked it when she challenged him.

"I got you the care that you needed, I gave you back everything that ever belonged to you, I kept Jude from being able to attack you," Fenrir growled, his eyes narrowing. "And you dare ask me what I saved you from, what I gave you? You dare question that I care for you?"

"I question everything about you, Fenrir," Emma sneered. "You say you kept Jude from attacking me, but if you cared, you wouldn't have attacked me in his place."

"I didn't attack you."

"Then what did you do? You bit me twice and then proceeded to…" Emma trailed off, trying to figure out how to phrase what he did to her face. "You hurt me, Fenrir. You can't honestly believe that you actually care for me."

He looked taken aback, his lips twisting with the effort of what he said next, "I love you."

Emma burst into hysterical laughter. It was the incentive she needed to switch off her confused thoughts, and anger gripped itself like an iron vice in her chest.

She ripped her face out of Fenrir's grip and ducked underneath his arm to put some space between them. "No, you don't," Emma said, whirling around to look at Fenrir, his eyes darkening considerably. "Fenrir, if you did, you wouldn't have tried to be just as fucked up as Monty. You had zero issues last week over attempting to rape me. For all the talk you've ever made about being better than that, for caring about me, you've done a terrible job of showing it."

"You knew what my intentions were –"

"And I didn't want it," Emma snarled, angry tears flooding her eyes. "That isn't love, Fenrir. Regardless of what sick ideas you have in your head, no part of me wanted what you planned to do. I was terrified. I told you to stop repeatedly, and you kept going."

"The full moon –"

"Don't you dare even try to come up with an explanation," Emma snarled. "I know damn well what you were going to say, and that doesn't excuse any of it."

"You know it's fully in my rights to take you whenever I would like? As an Alpha –"

"Fenrir, I am not in the bloody pack," Emma shouted. "I agreed to nothing! I never said I was joining you! Even if that were the case, there are still some fundamental issues. It does not change that even by werewolf standards, I am still not of age. I am not of age in your world, and I am not of age in mine. To make the issue worse, even if I did agree to join you to become whatever the hell it is I would be, the moment I said to stop, you should have stopped. You can't just take things because you think you can!"

Fenrir's nostrils flared as he stared at her, his gaze predatory and narrow as he pulled himself to his full height. "I stopped," he said slowly.

"Not when I asked you to! The fact you stopped at all is supposed to make it any better?" Emma asked, crossing her arms. "What even made you stop? I know it wasn't because of me."

Fenrir took a deep breath that came out as a growl, his lips curling back. "Ward wanted to watch."

That was not at all what Emma expected, and she searched Fenrir's eyes, almost hoping to find the hint of a lie. "Is that why you killed him?" she asked.

"It was part of my reasoning," Fenrir said with a slight shrug. "I'm surprised your father let you know about that. I would think he would keep that information from you." Emma paled slightly, and Fenrir immediately caught her sudden shift. "What?" he snapped.

"Dad didn't tell me," Emma said quietly. "I had to find out myself…I thought that maybe you were following that night…" The errant flicker of concern crossed Fenrir's face for a split second. If Emma had blinked, she would have missed it, but Fenrir was moving past that quickly. "All the same, why did you kill Ward? Why did you have to kill all of them?"

"For still trying to kill you," Fenrir said simply. When Emma arched an eyebrow at him, he rolled his eyes and continued. "By not giving you the potion, your body was working much harder to fight. All he had to do was give you the potion five out of the seven days, and some of his family would have lived. It's common for werewolves, especially young ones, to die from their hearts working too hard. Since you're trapped entirely in your human form, your body is forced to work even harder to survive. I had hoped that by spending time with you, it would alleviate the effects, but you weren't able to take care of yourself correctly."

"So you attacked me."

"I saved you."

Emma's lips pressed into a thin line, and she shook her head. "And yet you still let Jude live…You kill Ward, but you let Jude live. It makes no sense."

"I want him to suffer."

"By making me suffer?"

"How many times do I have to tell you that I saved you?" Fenrir snapped.

"And how many times do I have to tell you that you hurt me?" Emma retorted. "I don't fucking understand why you're not grasping that concept." Emma turned herself around, not sure if she was going to regret having her back to Fenrir. She couldn't look at him, too angry that he was trying to justify himself. "Fenrir, if you were anything like the person I thought you were, perhaps I would feel much different. All you've done is shown me that you're exactly what people call you – a monster."

There was a ringing silence that followed, and that made Emma worried. Within moments, Fenrir was directly behind her, his chest pressed firmly to her back. She shivered as he bent low, his breath hot against her ear.

"Is that still what you think of me? You still believe that I'm a monster?" Fenrir whispered.

"You've done nothing to prove otherwise," Emma growled, keeping her arms folded, ready to dive into her cardigan for her wand.

"What do you want from me, then?" Fenrir asked, his hand coming up to brush her hair away from her shoulder so he could look at the bite on her shoulder. "Do you expect all of the nonsense of Pure-blood courting?" Fenrir taunted, his voice sickeningly sweet. "The flowers and the romance meant to sweep you off your feet? You want me to take things slow with you? You expect all of the promises and the gifts that come with a courtship?"

"I'm not Pure-blood," Emma muttered.

"No, you're a mutt, but you're also a Black…You might be the biggest blood traitor of them all. A Black with werewolf blood – if your grandmother on the dog's side wasn't already dead, that would have been what killed her."

"Fenrir, I have no part of Sirius in my blood, and you know it. I am not a Black," Emma scoffed. "But a bloody courtship would certainly be better than whatever nonsense you've got in mind."

Fenrir only grunted in response, a low chuckle rolling up his throat. Emma had no idea what to make of Fenrir's lack of response. She didn't get much of a chance to think about it as he bent lower, and his teeth grazed over the bite on her shoulder.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Emma growled out. Fenrir practically purred, still not answering as he brushed his nose along the side of her neck. "Fenrir, stop it."

"Or what?" he chuckled.

"Keep going, and you'll find out," Emma snarled.

Fenrir laughed, the sound low and amused as he straightened up. "I thought this was what you wanted – taking things slow."

Emma was tired of Fenrir's game, and she wasn't playing it anymore. Without thinking about it, she ripped her wand out of the front of her cardigan. She pointed it under her arm at Fenrir, concentrating hard to cast a silent knockback jinx. A satisfied smirk crossed her face as she heard Fenrir connect with the wall across the room. The silencing charm was a handy touch – no one would even know.

She was quick to whirl around, fully aware that Fenrir would immediately go for his wand, not wanting to waste time to retaliate. In possibly the smoothest motion she had ever done, she cast a silent disarming charm just as Fenrir's fingers wrapped around the handle of his wand. She probably should have said the incantation, the spell had been wobbly the last time she tried it non-verbally, but she was thrumming with power. To her relief and excitement, the spell worked, and his wand slipped out from between his fingers. With a wide grin, she caught Fenrir's wand in her hand.

"I think I got what I wanted," Emma sing-songed, happily tucking Fenrir's wand into her cardigan. Fenrir looked angrier than she had ever seen him before, and she delighted in it. No one took Fenrir Greyback by surprise, but she just did. Remus would be proud to know those long nights and extra lessons paid off.

She gave her wand a slight twirl with a sigh as she crossed the room, careful to leave just enough distance between them. "What was it you said? Oh yes, a werewolf with a wand is dangerous."

The power she had was intoxicating. She had never felt like this before, like she genuinely had control of everything and over Fenrir. He could still attack her, but Emma knew that Fenrir understood that as long as she held a wand, she was a threat. It was a heady sensation, and she could see how easy it was to get obsessed with power. She was already starting to feel drunk off the feeling. She wanted to chase the high it brought her, so much more pleasant than anything she had experienced. But then her stomach dropped at the sudden flurry of thoughts of what she really wanted to do. She wanted to kill Fenrir just like Remus and Sirius wanted to kill Peter. After being unable to understand how they could feel that way, she was suddenly experiencing what they must have in the Shrieking Shack. What did that say about her?

Her thoughts must have been obvious as Fenrir started to laugh as he sat up straighter. A smile twisted itself on his face as he studied her. "What's the matter, Emma? Too afraid to try and kill me now?" he asked, his smile widening at the sneer on Emma's lips at the use of her name. "I can see it in your eyes, fy lleuad." He leaned forward, grabbing onto Emma's wrist to pull her closer. He tugged hard, forcing her to crouch down in front of him, looking more and more amused. He was enjoying himself.

"You could do it, you know – kill me," Fenrir taunted as he let go of Emma's wrist. "You would be a hero to so many…"

"And if I did kill you, you would only have yourself to blame," Emma growled. "After all, you're the one who decided I should be educated. Do you regret that?"

"I regret nothing, especially when it comes to you."

Emma shoved the tip of her wand into Fenrir's throat, aggravated. "You should," she said darkly. She was tempted to say every possible incantation to end him. Emma knew them, had that information sitting in the back of her mind because Remus told her, each spell sitting on the tip of her tongue. "Because you know damn well that I'm going to be the one that destroys you in the end."

Fenrir looked so amused that it was only angering Emma further. "I'm not too sure about that," he said smugly.

"And why's that?"

"Because you've had all this time to kill me and you haven't yet. I think you just wanted to know what it was like to finally feel powerful. You wanted to know what it's like to be just like me…"

Emma hated Fenrir with every fiber of her being. He could read her too quickly, and she didn't know how to stop him from knowing her thoughts. Fenrir's hand came up to grip her chin hard, pulling her face closer to his.

"Come on, fy lleuad bach. If you won't kill me, I know you want to show me how much you hate me. Say it – say the incantation and prove it to me," Fenrir said. "You know the spell, don't you? Your precious father told you the very incantation that was used on you, I'm sure."

Emma glared at Fenrir, gripping tighter to her wand. She wanted to say it, but not like this where he was taunting her. She wanted to hurt him like how he hurt her, and then kill him to get revenge for everything he had ever done to her and everyone else who was a victim. She wanted to end Fenrir's reign of terror for her father, but she was wavering.

"Do it," Fenrir hissed. "Say it. You know you're just like me. Say it, Emma – Crucio."

The moment the incantation left Fenrir's lips, Emma knew she couldn't do it. The idea of actually casting the spell made her sick. Jude had used it on her so often that she couldn't imagine doing it to someone else even though Fenrir deserved it. She wasn't like Fenrir at all, and she didn't want to be.

"Well? I'm waiting."

Whatever resolve Emma had left was swept away, and she lowered her wand, angry tears stinging her eyes. All she wanted to do was go home, and she chanced a look at her watch. There was still twenty minutes left before Remus would get there, and she had no doubt it was going to be the longest twenty minutes of her life.

"Oh, Emma…" Fenrir tutted. "Emma, Emma, Emma, fy lleuad bach…I am so disappointed in you."

Emma flinched slightly as he brushed his knuckles against her cheek. His touch practically burned her skin as he brushed away a tear that had fallen. "What?" she snapped, pulling her face away and wiping her eyes with her sleeve.

"And here I thought you had potential," Fenrir sighed. "You were always so promising, a fast learner, so willing to do everything I asked. Shame I'm going to have to leave you for your father to find, anyway. Unless, of course, you give me a reason to not kill you right now."

"W-what?" Emma straightened up quickly in alarm, scrambling back. She opened her mouth to speak, not understanding what had just changed in a matter of seconds. "Y-you wouldn't."

"I would, and I will."

"Y-you said…" Emma trailed off, backing up a few steps further and shaking her head.

"That I love you?" Fenrir sighed, standing up and brushing himself off. "I do. But I'm willing to kill you so that no one else can ever have you because you're mine and mine alone. I'll even make it quick for you," he said, studying Emma for a moment before chuckling. "Well, it will certainly much quicker than Jude would make it, at least."

Emma was stunned, rooted to the spot by Fenrir's words. He flipped like a switch, and while she knew that was how Fenrir worked, she really never expected him to turn on her. "But Fenrir, you said…What do you want from me? I don't understand…"

Fenrir stalked forward, but Emma still couldn't move. She looked up at him, frowning as he peered down his nose at her.

"In case you've forgotten, we had a deal at the beginning of all of this," Fenrir said slowly. "I was never going to do any of the things I've done for you without some sort of repayment. You had two weeks to decide whether or not you were going to be loyal to me. Between Jude and Broderick, you earned an extra week, and I granted it because I needed you healthy. However, I'm starting to think it wasn't worth it, and you know very well what I'm capable of."

"What do you want, Fenrir?"

"You – every single part of you. I want your loyalty, your devotion to me, and only me. I want your allegiance to the pack –"

"But why me?"

"Because you – are – mine."

"I'm…I'm not, though," Emma whined. "I can't…"

"Then I suppose your decision's been made," Fenrir said, pretending to look sad for a moment before his face split into a grin. "And I've made mine."

Fenrir was quick to have her pressed up against the wall before she had a chance to react. One hand was firmly around her throat, the other around her wrist, keeping her from using her wand. She refused to let go of her wand, even though she felt the bones shifting under Fenrir's grip. Emma tried to channel every bit of energy she had into casting some sort of spell to get him off of her, but she couldn't breathe. Fenrir was cutting off her air supply, and she struggled to rip his hand away. It was a futile effort, and she was starting to believe that she would be meeting her end after all. The thought of living up to the claim of being both Remus and Sirius's being the last thing she ever did stuck out in her mind, and inspiration struck.

Without thinking too hard about what she was doing, Emma shoved her free hand in her pocket to grab Sirius's knife. Her fingers were clumsy and shaky as they closed around the handle, darkness starting to close in on her vision. The moment she flicked the blade open with her thumb, she drove the knife somewhere into Fenrir's front.

Everything went still, and neither moved for a long moment. To Emma's relief and surprise, Fenrir released his hold on her neck but kept a tight grip on her wrist. Emma took in deep, gasping breaths to try and get air back into her lungs. She was terrified, and she watched in horror as Fenrir looked down at where he was impaled before meeting her gaze. He looked amused, and Emma didn't like it.

"And just what exactly were you planning on doing afterward?" Fenrir asked, sounding entirely unaffected.

Emma gulped, letting her eyes travel down to where the blade was sunk into Fenrir. "Quite honestly, no bloody clue," she whimpered. She gagged as Fenrir leaned forward to sink himself further onto the blade with a growl.

"If you're going to stab someone, at least do it right," Fenrir said, one corner of his lips lifting.

Their eyes both shot over to the door as the loud shouts of Emma's name, and Fenrir grinned. "Oh? Are we about to have company?" Fenrir asked, shoving his hand over Emma's mouth to keep her from saying a word.

Emma's eyes grew wide as the door opened, and three very small and very happy faces peered in. The smiles on Finn, Raewyn, and Brennan's faces immediately fell as they took in the sight of Emma and Fenrir. Emma never considered that they would all come to say goodbye before she left.

"Hello," Fenrir said cheerily, pulling his hand away from Emma's mouth. "And who have we here? Are these your little friends, Emma?"

Emma's eyes darted between the three eleven-year-olds and Fenrir. She plastered on a shaky smile for the three. "Hey, I'm uhm…I really need you to go," Emma said, failing miserably to keep the tremble out of her voice. A squeak escaped her lips as Fenrir increased the pressure on her wrist in warning just as she was about to try and get out of his grip.

"No, I really think they should stay," Fenrir said, beckoning the three to come into the room. "Come in, come in - I always enjoy having an audience."

"No," Emma said sharply, shaking her head. She looked down for a moment, completely forgetting her hand was attached to her knife. She let go with a shudder, taking a deep breath to keep from being sick. "Please, I need you all to leave. Don't say a word to anyone, not even…" Emma couldn't even convince herself to bring up Remus, and her voice broke. She didn't want to give herself to Fenrir, but she was desperate to not have Remus walk in to find her dead. "Just close the door and leave," Emma said when she found her voice again.

Brennan and Raewyn slowly backed away, but Finn remained where she stood.

"Please," Emma pleaded, giving Finn a reassuring nod. "Go. You don't need to be here. I'm fine." Finn cast Emma and Fenrir another look and nodded, slowly closing the door.

A pleased growl rolled up Fenrir's throat, and he turned to Emma with a smile. "And here I thought you were a lost cause," Fenrir drawled. "You have just given me three delicious little gifts. I think I might take that little red-haired one for myself. She reminds me of you, and since you're so unwilling to work with me…"

"No," Emma said sharply. "They're not a part of this."

"Then think fast, because I give it another few minutes before your father comes barging in to play the hero."

"He's here?" Emma asked in a panic. She didn't let herself feel any sort of hope because Fenrir could kill her before Remus could even get to her.

"He's been here, but with the charm and the fact he ignores what he is, he's had no idea that I'm here. The little brats are going to squeal on us right now."

"Fenrir, I don't –"

"Emma," he said sharply. "Be quick about this if you don't want him to find you dead on the floor."

"I need more time…" Emma begged, aggravated at her tears. He didn't deserve them, but she couldn't stop them from falling. Every time she thought she could handle herself, Fenrir proved to her that she couldn't, and she was desperate. "I'm not asking you for much Fenrir, especially if my birthday's in just over a month. At least give me that much and let me make my decision at fifteen. It's not fair to make me choose now."

Fenrir regarded Emma for a moment before pulling the knife from his body. For a split second, Emma thought he would stab her with it, but he dropped it to the floor. He reached into Emma's cardigan to take his wand, flicking it to open the windows and then tucking his wand into his coat. Fenrir squeezed her wrist harder, forcing her to drop her wand with a yelp before he released his hold.

"Fine – but don't you dare try to ask me for any more time." Fenrir slowly made his way towards the windows. "You just might be worth the effort, which is wonderful to know. It would have been such a shame to lose such a beautiful thing like you. Clearly, you're capable of attacking when provoked. I'm sure with training, you'll be unstoppable," Fenrir said, lifting his shirt and pressing his hand down over his stab wound to check if it had started to heal. "While you failed nearly every test I gave you, you passed the important ones. I enjoy when you let Soleil out to play, and you gave me such a nice little taste of her this morning." Emma's face twisted as Fenrir held his blood-covered hand out towards her.

"Do we have a deal?" Fenrir asked, an eyebrow raising in challenge. He wasn't going to make it easy on her, and he had every intention of pushing Emma as far as he could. Emma didn't want to agree to anything, but she was cornered. She reluctantly put her hand in his and gasped as he tugged her closer with a wolfish grin.

"I only agreed to give you more time because our deal doesn't involve leaving the little ones alone, and I was curious to see what you would offer me. You should have known I never would have actually killed you – you're too precious to me. I'll take into consideration your desire for a courtship. If you finally decide to quit being stubborn, I will give you anything you'd like. As my mate, you'll be given the world, but only if you make the right decision," Fenrir said, looking entirely too pleased with himself. He leaned forward to press a kiss to the top of Emma's head. "Tell your father hello for me, and thank you for such a generous gift, fy lleuad bach."

Fenrir let go of Emma's hand, and she crumpled to the floor where she was. She watched in horror as he slipped out her window. The door slammed open only seconds after Fenrir left, and Emma didn't need to look up to know it was Remus. Emma couldn't move, and she couldn't look at her father, not after what she had just done. She was stupid and walked right into Fenrir's trap and made things even worse. She had made one of the biggest mistakes of her life and had dragged three others into it without meaning to. Emma wasn't sure she was going to be able to get herself out of this one.

a/n: Oh...oh Fenrir is finally gone for a few chapters. I knew I was writing a huge chunk of content with Fenrir, but I just wanted it to be over. He's coming back, but uh, I think we're going to be meeting some other friends sometime soon. I just...I just want to get to the Quidditch World Cup...and Hogwarts...aaaahhhhhh. Getting there slowly but surely. *sigh*

Lucasjan - Ahhhh, thank you! I know I thanked you on Discord (that's you, right? o_o), but I want to thank you again! I truly and honestly appreciate it! :) Don't worry - Fenrir is 100% going to be the evil dude that he is. He's very mercurial and I hope I've captured that characteristic. I want Fenrir to be a character that keeps you guessing at all possible moments!

ShardAura - Eep, thank you! I have 100% broken my own heart and cried way too many times to count while writing. Emma's story definitely hits home for me in quite a few areas as well - it's difficult. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Hahaha, you're not the only person who's mentioned that they want Emma to be a werewolf. ;P Thank you again!