tw: mild Jude/mild Ellis/mild Fenrir warning (we're just stacking up the warnings here oops)
Merlin, leaving Remus was difficult. He promised he would be at King's Cross to see her off no matter what, but that didn't help her in the least. She was grateful that it was Tonks who came to pick her up Monday morning because she didn't rush Emma at all. Emma wanted to drink in every last bit of love from her father she could get. Even though she would be seeing him in a few days, Remus couldn't say when they would see each other next.
No one was there to greet her when Tonks Apparated her back to the Moon household. Emma had no idea why she thought any different. The door was open for her, and Emma made her way to her room, hoping that she wouldn't run into anyone. She kept her head low, trying to keep her tears as quiet as possible as she made her way up the stairs. When no one crept into the hallway, Emma thought she would make it through the final stretch and could be left alone. If only she was so lucky.
She turned the corner of her open doorway and froze immediately, meeting Fenrir's gaze from across the room. It appeared he had decided to return from his time with the pack earlier than Emma expected. He straightened up slightly in his chair at the table as he looked at her, his eyes narrowing slightly. For a moment, she thought he might have just arrived himself, but his naked torso and his shirt draped over a chair said otherwise. He must have arrived the night before as Figaro was lounging close to Fenrir like she usually was when he was around. They stared at each other for a moment until Emma finally looked away, wiping at her wet eyes.
"Heading out or staying in?" Emma forced out around the lump in her throat.
"In," Fenrir responded, and Emma closed the door behind her.
Emma dropped her bag by the door and sat at the edge of her mattress, facing away from Fenrir. She wasn't ready to deal with him yet, and she hated crying around him.
"Come here," he said, his tone aggravatingly soft.
She despised it when he took a soft tone with her because it could shatter her spectacularly. It left her with a gaping hole in her chest at the reminder that everything was wrong, and Fenrir was the last person to be seeking comfort from. She wanted Remus, whose soft words held meaning and could keep all her fears at bay. Emma wanted to be held close and listen to the cadence of her father's voice through his chest as he promised her things would be all right. She didn't want to listen to Fenrir's perpetually gravelly voice that always rumbled with his growl that never stopped. Still, Emma obeyed, reluctantly getting back up to face him. He moved over to the sofa, grabbing his guitar, and he pat the spot next to him. Emma didn't want to sit next to him, but she went anyway. It was safer.
"Lie down. Relax," he said, patting his knee, and Emma suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. Fenrir chuckled when he realized just how determined Emma was to keep as much distance as she could from him while still following his orders. She just barely rested her head on his knee, turning on her side and crossing her arms grumpily. Technically he couldn't find fault in what Emma did because she did exactly as he requested. He ran a hand down the back of her head before lifting his guitar to his other knee to start to play.
Most days, Fenrir would freestyle whatever he played, but he would play songs that Emma was familiar with on others. Apparently, Bob Dylan was the artist of choice for the day, and Emma wasn't opposed. The longer Fenrir played, the more Emma gave in and relaxed. She resettled herself on the couch, dropping her head in his lap with an annoyed huff and curling up. It felt like a cruel and unusual punishment that she could feel so comfortable listening to Fenrir playing guitar that she could fall asleep. She wouldn't because that was too much, but her eyes were betraying her and closing.
This would be one of those moments that occurred that they would never speak of again, a fleeting moment that would drift off in the breeze. Emma felt she had a lot of those moments with Fenrir. It made it easier for her to forget.
Emma forced herself back up when she felt herself getting too comfortable. She felt Fenrir's eyes follow her as she made her way back over to her bag to start unpacking. A part of her debated whether or not to start putting things into her trunk, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Not yet, at least, and certainly not while Fenrir was watching her so closely.
"How was your time home?" Fenrir asked, still continuing to play.
Educational was what Emma wanted to say, but she refrained. They had spent the entirety of Sunday discussing things, and Emma thought she had made her decision, but Remus worried her. Fenrir's violence was disturbing, and Remus didn't hold back in telling her just how ruthless the werewolf could be. He was holding back with her, most likely because of her size, but if she thought Jude was bad, Fenrir could be worse. She didn't even consider the idea that the other two girls would want to fight her for Fenrir's affection – literally. And those were just the two girls that she knew about; there would be more, and not only in Fenrir's pack. Fenrir had all the power, and others would want to kill her for her place.
That terrified Emma more than anything. She had more enemies than she thought and hadn't even done anything other than exist. Emma had questioned every final decision she had made until she brought up Fenrir's ring. She had nearly forgotten about it until Remus mentioned that unless a marriage type bonding took place, something neither of them would allow, she was fair game.
"What does this mean, though?" Emma had asked, returning to the living room after grabbing the ring from her bag.
Remus stared at Emma in confusion before slowly taking the ring from her hand to inspect it. His brows slowly knit closer and closer together as he looked at it. "He gave you this?" Remus asked, holding the ring up. "You didn't take it from him?"
"No, I'm trying to survive here," Emma huffed out. "I've apparently got enough of a death wish without stealing from Fenrir. I learned my lesson after destroying the coat."
Remus frowned at that and shook his head – he didn't want to know. "This ring ties his magic to yours," Remus explained. "It helps to stabilize a werewolf's magic, makes the full moons a little easier because there's power to draw from. Consider it a magical power reserve for werewolves."
"So Fenrir essentially forced me into a marriage with him? He can essentially steal my magic from me?"
"No, you misunderstand," Remus said, depositing the ring into Emma's hand. "He tied his magic to yours. He can't access yours unless you gave him a similarly formed token, but if you're wearing that, you can draw from his. Emma, I have no idea what his plans are with you, but whatever they are, he's serious about them. He's had that ring since before I was even in the pack."
Beneath everything Remus was telling her, Emma understood that having Fenrir's ring meant that he trusted her. Magic was delicate and volatile, werewolf or not, and he was trying to make things easier for her. He wouldn't ever admit to trusting her, but it was an admission from Fenrir all the same. Remus was equal parts amazed and horrified.
"You need to be very careful with that," Remus said. "As long as he allows you to have that, he won't hurt you severely. Hurting you means hurting himself as he's affecting his own magic. Emma, whatever you do, don't do anything that will put you in danger."
Fenrir had practically given her a weapon against himself as long as she was wearing it. To make it seem as though she had no idea, Emma decided she wouldn't put it back on unless Fenrir mentioned it. She learned quick with Fenrir – she rarely made the same mistakes twice with him.
"It wasn't enough time," Emma finally decided to say. It was a safe option, and it was true. If Fenrir felt the need to try and find deception, he would find none.
"It wasn't," he agreed, continuing to play, whatever song he was playing shifting into Knockin' on Heaven's Door.
"Going for dramatic today, eh, Fen?" Emma asked, unable to stop her grin. Fenrir gave a slight shrug, but Emma didn't miss the start of his grin in return. He genuinely wasn't terrible when he was like this, with his horrendous sense of humor and need to be a menace. It made Emma genuinely wonder what changed in Fenrir to make him the monster that he was underneath the surface. "So glad you feel the need to make fun of my sorrow."
"I'm not making fun of your grief," Fenrir said with a slight edge to his voice. "It's funny because we're wolves and considered one of the darkest of creatures. Besides, we're all going to Hell anyway."
Emma genuinely had to stop unpacking to shoot Fenrir a look. "Jesus Christ, Fen, really?" she said, her brows lifting. "You said you're not superstitious, and yet you believe in the concept of Hell? Starting to question that whole pure-blood thing. Bit too Muggle, isn't it?"
"Well, it's a good thing I'm a werewolf and not a pure-blood, then."
"Except for when you feel like pretending to be a pure-blood wizard, of course."
Fenrir's face split into his wolfish smile, all sharp teeth and twisted. "Anything for you, Rabbit," he purred.
Emma wanted nothing more than to punch Fenrir right in the face. However, she had no desire to have his hand wrapped around her throat like the figurative collar he seemed so determined to put on her. Perhaps he would try to make it literal…that would be a miserable day, indeed.
"Was the pack happy to have you back for a few days?" Emma asked conversationally, picking Figaro up for a cuddle when the cat finally decided to say hello. She looked up at Fenrir when he didn't immediately answer, and Emma couldn't decipher his expression. "What?"
"They've been asking for you," Fenrir replied. "It appears that you've made quite the impression on our youngest cub."
"Ducky?" Emma asked, a small smile reaching her lips when Fenrir nodded. "He was adorable." Her smile faltered as she really looked at Fenrir. "Was he one of yours?"
"Raoul's," Fenrir said. "He wanted a son."
Emma gave a start at the thought. "So, you took Ducky away from his family?"
"He was already a stray living on the streets out near Manchester."
"And what of his parents?"
"No idea. We watched him for a while. No one came to find him, so we took him with us," Fenrir said with a shrug. "At least he has a pack now," Fenrir added at the look on Emma's face.
"But he's still just a boy," Emma said quietly. "A magical one, I'm sure."
"He'll learn just as the others have."
Emma sat down on her mattress and set Figaro down. "You're doing those children a disservice, Fenrir," Emma said quietly. "They should know more than what you're willing to teach them. I know that things are challenging for…for our kind. Especially now that I've seen it first-hand, but things are going to change in the future, I'm sure of it."
"Really? Who amongst wizards will change things for werewolves? You were complaining about what people say about us just last week."
"Me," Emma said. "I'll do it."
"You?" Fenrir asked, his eyebrow raising. "Really."
Emma shrugged. "You never know, Fen. Wasn't it you who told me just last week that the world is changing?" she said. "Besides, I'm probably the only person in the world who can say that they've experienced you as a wolf and didn't get turned."
A displeased rumble rolled up Fenrir's throat, and Emma snickered at the noise. She took a look at her broom sitting near the door and sighed.
"I'm going flying for a bit," she said, getting up to snatch her broom up. "Meet you outside."
The rest of the day was surprisingly calm. Emma stayed out on her broom for as long as she could, much to Fenrir's annoyance. She wanted to feel the wind against her skin and not have to think. For the first time since being at the Moon's, he left her alone and let her continue to fly. As long as she stuck close by and was careful, she could travel just about anywhere on the property. It was almost funny to her how protective Fenrir was of her while she was flying. She giggled each time she thought of his threats if she got hurt and his annoyed growl when she pointed out he was being a hypocrite. Annoying Fenrir was a delightful way for her to pass the time.
Eventually, Caspian came out to join her, and they flew side by side while Elijah stayed on the ground reading. It was nice to have a normal conversation, but it felt odd that it wasn't with Persephone. She was close enough with Caspian; it was hard not to be when they were both Hufflepuffs, but she wanted to talk to Persephone. At least she would be able to confront Persephone when they were at Hogwarts away from everyone. Persephone clearly had answers and was keeping them to herself. Emma was determined to know exactly what it was Persephone refused to tell her.
Emma despised that Jude was at dinner again; however, she didn't miss his subtle limp. She was amused when he grumbled for Persephone to sit next to Fenrir. The temptation to question what was wrong was great, but Emma kept to herself. With the day finally over, Emma thought she was going to be able to get to bed. However, Fenrir had other plans for her.
"You need to start packing," he said from the table in their room. Emma never had any idea what he was looking over, but sometimes an owl would arrive, and he would get secretive. Whatever he had, she wasn't allowed to see. Though she was curious, she wasn't stupid. "Don't wait last minute."
"I want to go to bed, Fen. I'm tired," Emma said, biting back her whine. She hated the look Fenrir would give her when she whined.
"Start. Packing," he said, slowly turning back to the parchment in front of him.
Emma glared at the back of his head and pulled herself back out of bed. With a sigh, Emma took a look around to see where everything was. She had really managed to spread all of her things around the room.
"Don't just stand around, Lupin," Fenrir said, drawing a growl from Emma. "Your things are not going to get in your trunk by staring at it."
She swore her eye twitched, but she set about the room to gather what she could. Emma figured it would be best to start with her books. Fenrir had drilled it into her head at least half a dozen times that heavy objects should be packed at the bottom of her trunk. If he kept up his nonsense, she was going to shove him in there and keep him there forever just so she didn't have to hear him talk. With a stack of books in hand, Emma dropped them on her bed and cracked open her trunk. Her school uniform sat just at the top, and Emma frowned at it.
"I hear no movement from you," Fenrir said dryly. "Get a move on."
"Fenrir – shut – up," Emma said sharply, ripping her uniforms out of her trunk. "I'm trying on my uniform to make sure it still fits."
"Should have done that sooner," Fenrir said over his shoulder. Thankfully he did not comment on the long stream of expletive-laced names she had for him.
Unfortunately, Fenrir was very much correct in his statement that she should have tried on her uniform sooner. Her robes were fine, but everything else was not. Her skirt refused to fasten, and her jumpers and blouses were just a touch too tight. Her cardigans were okay, but not really as comfortable as she liked. She hated growing up.
"Oh, buggering fuck," Emma muttered as she looked at herself in the mirror after trying on her third skirt. Why had she not considered that she would need a new uniform? She had required an entirely new wardrobe to accommodate the rest of her, so why didn't any of them consider her uniform? It was the worst possible time to notice, with only two days left to spare. She possibly had a pair of trousers to get away with wearing, but that wouldn't last until the first Hogsmeade trip or Christmas.
"What are you going on about now?"
Emma tensed up slightly when the bathroom door opened, and she shot Fenrir a look. She was clothed, but he somehow always had a way of making her feel exposed. Even though she showed only the smallest sliver of her hip, she still felt her face heat up. She had blocked out Fenrir helping her the previous week and planned to keep it that way.
"Fen, what if you just walked in and I was naked?" Emma growled, tugging hard at the fastens of her skirt.
"You know I can hear when you're changing, right?" Fenrir asked pointedly, his eyes following her movements. "Besides, it's not like I haven't had a good look at you already. You've grown."
"No shit, Sherlock," Emma grumbled, clenching her fists into the waistband of her skirt to keep it from falling. "I don't want to have to go to Diagon Alley. It's going to be so packed."
"Well then why did you wait so long to try things on?"
"Because it's not like I've grown taller," Emma said, shooting Fenrir a look. "Didn't realize just how much Dad was adjusting all of my clothes for me. I don't know that any of it will hold up to another adjustment."
"See what happens when you actually take care of yourself?" Fenrir said dryly. "You don't look as though you're going to topple over with a strong breeze. Didn't you say that you never picked up dress robes?"
Emma scowled at Fenrir in the reflection of the mirror. "And I won't," Emma huffed. "I don't need them."
"Everyone should have dress robes."
"Even you?"
"I keep a set."
"If I just so happen to need something where I need to be dressed up, I've got more than enough to choose from in the closet."
"Those are not appropriate for a formal occasion."
Emma sucked in a deep breath through her nose. "Fenrir, will you please leave? I have no desire to have this conversation while I have to hold onto my skirt like this."
Fenrir gave Emma a once over and shook his head. "Get changed and go find Persephone and tell her that she needs to go shopping with you tomorrow."
"Oh, I get to go somewhere without my chaperone?" Emma questioned.
"Don't try me, Rabbit," Fenrir said pointedly. "I doubt you would want to be seen with me in public, but if you'd prefer..."
"No," Emma said sharply, pointing out the door. "Go."
Fenrir rolled his eyes and walked away, leaving the door open. Emma was about to shout at him for leaving the door open, but she knew exactly what he would say. Still, Emma was extremely quick about getting changed. Emma shot Fenrir a glare and held up two fingers at his back before slipping out of the room in search of Persephone.
Emma walked down the hall to Persephone's room. She frowned slightly when she reached the door and found it open. The light was on, but Persephone was nowhere to be found.
"Eff?" Emma said into Persephone's room. When no one responded, Emma took a cautious step into the room and took a look around. "Are you hiding somewhere?" Emma waited a few moments and listened for any movement, but there was nothing. She waited a few more moments and decided to try and see if she could find Persephone. Much like Remus, Fenrir was vigilant about keeping her wand with her at all times, so she wasn't entirely defenseless. She was sure that Jude had left as it was late, but she wasn't taking a chance.
She slowly made her way back along the hallway. The lights to the library were off, she could hear Caspian's loud laugh from behind his doorway, and there was no one in the potion's lab. Emma made her way downstairs, wondering if Persephone was with Sage in the kitchen or the dining room. Those were the only two places that she could think of her being. Emma took a look around the half-lit entryway and was about to turn right towards where the kitchen and dining room were, but there was a light to the left. She was tempted to follow her initial plan, but Emma was nothing if not curious. She went to the left.
Emma crept slowly down the hallway, trying to listen hard to the voices she heard. It was one of those moments she wished she had werewolf hearing. She had to keep getting closer to the open door, and a part of her was terrified of being caught. Emma kept close to the wall taking slow steps to avoid making too much noise; she had a feeling it wouldn't be good if anyone found her.
"I don't know what your problem is," she heard Ellis say.
Emma immediately froze where she was when she heard Jude's voice speak next, "You can't keep pretending like she doesn't exist, Persephone. You have had this entire time to do as we asked, and you haven't done thing."
"I don't want to do this anymore," came Persephone's voice. "I already told you."
"Well, that's too bad, isn't it?" Ellis said. "You have known for years that this was going to happen."
"What? That you keep insisting Voldemort is going to return? I don't believe it," Persephone scoffed.
"Jude needs to take his mark," Ellis continued, "and he's not going to be able to if you don't help."
"Because Jude killing Margaret wasn't enough? That was taking it too far, and you know it! There was no need to kill her and especially not the way that it was done."
Emma was torn between getting closer and just backing away. Did she want to know what was being said? Could she handle what was being said? Her stomach dropped at the sudden confirmation that Jude was the one who killed her mother. She had known it, but hearing it made her sick. Knowing that Margaret had been entirely in her own mind and had suffered a slow death made Emma's stomach churn.
"And you're aware that by getting rid of the dog, it'll put you in favor with the Dark Lord?" Jude asked. "Not only will it allow me to finally take my mark, but it'll also put you in good standing to take yours when it's time. It would be so much easier if the mangy mutt wasn't around…"
"He's not coming back!" Persephone shouted. "Voldemort isn't coming back! I'm not hurting Emma anymore. I'm glad that Fenrir's been here to keep her safe!"
"The only reason Greyback's keeping her safe is because he wants to fuck her," Jude spat.
"It's not…" Persephone immediately trailed off as if she thought it was better than to respond to Jude. Emma wished she would have continued what she was about to say.
"The Dark Lord is going to return, Persephone," Ellis said, "and you're going to have to join us one day. It's the only way to keep us all safe."
"And what if Wormtail's wrong?" Persephone asked.
"Wormtail's seen him!"
"I've seen him, and he's brilliant." A different voice this time. This one was new and excited. Who was this mysterious fourth person? Were there others that weren't speaking? "He will rise again with Wormtail's help. But the Dark Lord will be thanking me, and I'll be rewarded gloriously."
Whoever this fourth person was made Emma nervous. He spoke about Voldemort in the same way Fenrir spoke of his pride in being a werewolf.
"I'm still not doing this," Persephone said sharply after a long moment of silence. "If he's returning, then he's returning. Whatever. If you're going to try and hurt Emma, it's without my help."
"You are going to do exactly as we say," Ellis said. "As long as she's here, it'll make things easy."
"She doesn't belong here – she should be home!" Persephone said.
"I don't understand why you're trying to protect her. She's not even human."
"But that doesn't mean she doesn't have feelings!"
"Oh please, Persephone," Ellis scoffed. "Just because you tricked her into falling for you, it doesn't mean you have to pretend that you ever cared."
"That wasn't a trick! I do love her!"
"And when she finds out what you've done?"
"Then I'll have to accept what I've done. I didn't want to do any of this, and you two made me. At least at the end of the day, as fucked up as Fenrir is, he wouldn't have ever tried to kill her."
There was a loud crack, and Emma felt her face twist up in a mix of anger and disgust. It didn't take Emma too much time to realize that Persephone had been slapped. She wanted to go running in, but that would be a stupid idea.
A dull ache started to fill her chest – Ellis insisted that their relationship had been a trick, but Emma couldn't believe that. Persephone said that it wasn't a trick. Emma desperately hoped that Persephone was telling the truth because she wasn't sure what she would do if it had all been a lie.
Emma knew if she stayed, she wouldn't be able to keep herself quiet. She slowly walked backward and nearly let out a gasp when she backed into something solid. Emma turned her head slowly to look over her shoulder and relaxed when she saw it was Fenrir. She must have taken too long, and he decided to go find her. He gave a sharp jerk of his head back towards the stairs and stepped around her to head to the room where the others were. The moment he spoke, Emma realized he was buying her time to head back. He sounded just as surprised as she was that there was a secret meeting going on.
She went as swiftly as she could while remaining silent. There was no way that Fenrir could actually be right. Voldemort couldn't be coming back, but they spoke of Peter so casually that Emma couldn't help but wonder. The idea of Peter helping Voldemort still after everything was disturbing. Even though Harry was the one who insisted he should live, her fathers didn't have to actually listen to him. They had spared Peter's life just as much as Harry had. Peter still working with Voldemort felt like he had betrayed them twice.
Emma didn't understand what Persephone could have done to her. Her heart felt like it would shatter into a million pieces. Persephone couldn't have done anything to her. Their relationship hadn't been a lie. Hell, Persephone had to have just found out about Jude being the one to kill her mother. Was that what Fenrir was trying to protect her from? Was he trying to keep her from making assumptions about what could have happened?
Emma looked around and frowned slightly seeing that Fenrir had put her books in her trunk already for her. Needing a distraction, she decided to try and keep herself busy. The moment they got to Hogwarts, Emma was determined to find out exactly what was going on.
"Hey," Persephone said, her hair covering the place Emma was sure she had been slapped. She plastered on a smile, but her eyes were red-rimmed. "Fenrir said that you need to get some shopping done tomorrow. I told you that you got hips finally."
Emma tried to return Persephone's smile. "Yeah, well, apparently it's everywhere. I didn't realize just how much I actually changed."
"It suits you. You've always been pretty, but you know," Persephone said softly with a slight sniffle. "Did you want to try and make a day of it? Fenrir said that you probably wouldn't mind being out."
"Oh, because he knows how much I love shopping," Emma said with a soft laugh. "We could. Maybe we could go out into the city for a bit? We could try and find some new Muggle dish you haven't had before."
"Do you think Fenrir would be mad?"
"Do you think that I care? He'll deal."
"I just don't want him to get mad at you," Persephone whispered.
Emma shook her head. "I'll be fine," Emma said. "He'll growl at me, act as though he's about ready to kill me, and then probably kiss my forehead afterward like he usually does."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure."
Persephone worried her lip between her teeth for a moment and then nodded, her smile more genuine. "All right," she said. "We'll make it a whole day thing. Maybe we should skip dinner here. It's been a while since we've done something together."
"I think that sounds like a good idea," Emma replied.
"All right," Persephone said, straightening up slightly. "Let's head out around ten, yeah?"
"That sounds perfect," Emma replied. She gave Persephone a small smile and called out just before she closed the door, "Hey, Persephone?"
"Yeah?"
"I, uhm…just wanted to let you know that I love you."
Persephone's face fell, her face twisted with the effort of not breaking down into tears. "I love you, too," she said quietly, her chin trembling slightly and her eyes growing glassy. She studied Emma's face for a moment, and then she was gone.
Emma gave up on packing her trunk and climbed into bed shortly after Persephone left. She turned out the lights and curled up under her blankets. Figaro seemed to know that Emma needed company and hopped up on the bed to join her. She rubbed her furry little head under Emma's chin and twirled herself into a tight ball next to her. Emma was somewhere in between being awake and finally falling asleep when Fenrir returned.
She felt him sit down at the edge of her mattress with a sigh. "I want you to remember tonight, Emma," Fenrir said quietly. "This is why I keep telling you to be careful who you trust. The moment the war truly begins, things are only going to get worse." He fell silent for a moment, brushed his knuckles against her cheek, and stood up. There was more that he wanted to say, Emma could feel it, but the words never came. "Get some rest. Good night, Rabbit."
If someone had told Emma that her life would be defined by one single moment, she would have laughed. She didn't believe in destiny, cared little for the concept of fate, and certainly didn't believe in any higher beings. Her entire summer had been a series of different events, molding her in ways that she wouldn't understand for some time. She had been forced to make decisions that would affect her entire life, tiny strings being weaved into the very fabric of her existence. If any higher power truly existed, Emma was positive they wouldn't have put her through Hell and back again. She never considered the possibility that magic was a spirit unlike any other, and the universe was determined to continue its cosmic joke. Nothing, absolutely nothing, would have ever prepared her for what was to come.
Being out with Persephone felt like a breath of fresh air. Persephone was unaware that Emma had heard anything of what was said the night before, and Emma pushed it all aside. She wanted to enjoy her time with Persephone. Deep down, somewhere deep down, Emma knew that Persephone was telling the truth. It didn't change whatever Persephone might have done, but Emma couldn't see the possibility of Persephone doing anything drastic. It was impossible.
Madam Malkin's had been an absolute nightmare of a trip. Getting fitted with another new school uniform was quick but trying to find dress robes was miserable. Emma felt like she tried on dress after dress, unable to settle on one possible option. It felt like there was something wrong with each and every dress. Eventually, Persephone took matters into her own hands and told Emma that it would be a surprise. Madam Malkin was pleasant and didn't dare mention her scars or bites, and was subtle in making suggestions for changes she could make. She had Madam Malkin take all of Emma's measurements and sent Emma off on her way.
"Go to Flourish and Blotts for a bit. I'll take care of this," Persephone said. Emma shook her head and deposited her pouch of money in Persephone's hand. "Worst case scenario, we'll go to Twillfit and Tattings."
"Don't make me look ugly," Emma said pointedly.
"Have I ever?" Persephone asked, sounding mildly slighted.
"No," Emma smiled.
Flourish and Blotts always seemed more magical than any other part of Diagon Alley to Emma. Books were her escape from reality, and if she learned something along the way, then even better.
After her very favorable results with the Wolfsbane Potion, Emma was determined to learn more about potion-making. Though she loved the subject, she owned very few potions books other than what was required for school. If Remus were with her, he would be making fun of her for beelining to the potions section. Emma would have probably made some sort of joke at whatever comment he made. It would have been fun, but that wasn't her reality.
Emma had taken to keeping her head low while out in public. If she didn't look up, she didn't have to see how people looked at her. When she was lucky, they just ignored her altogether. Today was not any different.
She glanced up just enough to find a section of books dedicated to achieving a Potion's Mastery. The books were high level and would probably be considered well above her skill level, but she was determined. Emma kept her face down and scanned the books on the shelf through her lashes. Her curiosity was piqued when she found a book on updated and advanced potion theory, and she reached out for it, but she wasn't the only one. Emma had tried to reach for the book at the same time as someone else, and their fingers brushed with the lightest of touches. They both seemed to freeze, weighing the possibility of who would get the last copy of the book.
Emma giggled nervously and quickly pulled her hand away.
"Sorry," she muttered, turning her face away to avoid being stared at. "It looked interesting."
There was silence, and Emma felt her body heat up with her embarrassment. She hated when people didn't say a word to her, especially in awkward situations. She felt as though this person was trying to look at her. Or maybe not – perhaps they were just reading the summary of the book they both reached for. Emma only turned her head further to avoid the potential of staring and continued looking at the other books.
"You look a bit young to be going for your Potion's Mastery," said a man's voice.
"Depends on who you talk to," Emma laughed. "I'm guessing you're going for yours?"
"I only have one year left, and I'll finally have it," the man said with a sigh. "It's been a long few years. Just a few more requirements, and that's finally out of the way."
Emma hummed in response and nodded. "Well, good luck then," Emma said.
Not wanting to linger near the potions books, Emma made her way to a different store section. She groaned at the sudden thought and reminder of Fenrir's insistence that she continue to take Divination. Did she really want to? Not particularly, but he had issued her a challenge whether she liked it or not. Emma didn't back down from challenges easily, and it was more of a nuisance than anything. With a sigh, Emma made her way to the divination books. She didn't think a new book was required, but she would have to ask Persephone. Instead, she peered through the selection available.
Emma pondered the legitimacy of the branches of divination Fenrir had mentioned. There weren't too many books on the subject, which was disappointing. If he was going to speak of pure nonsense, Emma wanted to understand what exactly that nonsense was. While Emma didn't find anything that would help her understand Fenrir better, she did find a book that made her giggle.
Find Your True Love: From Abacomancy to Zygomancy. It was the exact sort of nonsense that made Emma question the art. She was sure that there was a place for it within the magical world, but it wasn't for her. Emma couldn't stop herself from picking it up to look through and see what it contained. She was sure it would be humorous.
"For someone who just tried to pick up a highly advanced potions book, I'm surprised you would pick up that book." It was the voice of the man from before, and Emma blushed furiously.
She lifted it slightly with another nervous giggle. "It's the newest comedy book," Emma said. "Didn't you know? Did you follow me?"
"I was going to pay for my books, actually," he replied. "What does it say about tea leaves?"
Emma snorted and flipped back to the section on Tasseography. "It says to do the reading with a single pink candle," Emma recited from the book. "When the wax begins to drip, then you may drink your tea and think about your intended question, obviously asking who your true love is. Swirl the cup three times clockwise, once counterclockwise, turn it over and let it drain. Once drained, pick up your cup, and your cup shall have not only the initials of your beloved but how you'll meet. How romantic."
"Huh," the man said. "Might be fun to do just because. Thanks."
With a sigh, Emma gave up on her quest for understanding divination. It was a fruitless effort, and she was never going to enjoy it. Still, she was almost tempted to try the tea leaf ritual just to see what would happen. It wasn't as though it could possibly be true. She put the book back where it belonged and decided to figure out what was taking Persephone so long. She still hadn't appeared in Flourish and Blotts, and Emma didn't think it should take that long to get a dress figured out.
She was in the middle of thinking about the previous night, still confused by what had actually occurred, when she found herself on the floor. Someone had barreled right into her, forcing her sideways onto the floor. Emma was utterly stunned – she hadn't seen it coming at all.
"Oh, shit, I'm so sorry. We seem to keep meeting." It was the same man as before, and Emma was unsure of whether or not to look up at the man, but then his hand was right in front of her.
"Please, let me help you up," he practically begged. "I got too distracted reading the other book I picked up."
That was something Emma understood all too well. What would it hurt to let this stranger help her up. She placed her hand in his and allowed him to pull her up from the floor.
"I've done exactly that many times," Emma said with a laugh. She finally looked up at the man she had been speaking to, and her breath came out as a sharp gasp as her eyes met an all too familiar gaze.
She knew that she was staring and staring hard, but this was too strange. Emma felt she was looking at a much younger, equally tall, but less muscular and bulky version of Fenrir. His dark hair was short and neat, parted to the side and swept off his forehead. He had a very short beard that was kept tidy, the lines crisp and clean. But he didn't exude that air of wildness that Fenrir carried. She would know; she had spent enough time with Fenrir lately to see his animalistic nature beneath the man.
The man in front of her was a proper looking young man, immaculate with his creased brown trousers, brown brogues, and light blue button-down. He didn't appear to be that much older than her, in his early twenties if he almost completed his Potions Mastery. He certainly didn't look any older than twenty-five. His eyes were the same amber color as Fenrir's but were warm instead of cold, and they were full of genuine surprise that changed quickly to distress.
His eyebrows, nearly the same as Fenrir's, knit closely together as if he was incredibly torn by what was happening. His nose was slightly longer but the exact same shape as Fenrir's, sloping in the exact same spot. However, his lips were fuller, his face thinner and more angled. Whoever this Fenrir lookalike was, he seemed just as surprised to see her as she was of him.
Emma was suddenly thrown into a very confusing set of thoughts. Did Fenrir have a son? He had to. There were far too many similarities to be coincidental, and Emma was had to be imagining it all. There was absolutely no way that Fenrir had a son. If he did, she felt as though the entire wizarding world would know. This had to be an exceptionally elaborate joke being played on her. By who, she wasn't sure, but it had to be a joke.
The man's face still hadn't entirely shifted from surprise, and he appeared to be doing some very quick thinking as well. He had to know her – most people did after the articles in the Daily Prophet were published. Her school photo was included to accent the articles written early in the summer. She was grateful no photos could be published showing how she looked now because none existed just yet.
It seemed the man had finally come to a conclusion of how he felt. In seconds, his expression shifted from anger, to fear, to concern, to terror, until finally, he settled on a neutral mask. Emma would have thought he was kind until he opened his mouth and spoke.
"You need to watch where you're going."
Emma stared at him, completely dumbfounded. Seeing what the man actually looked like, she had expected Fenrir's voice. Instead, she was once again greeted with a smooth voice much closer to her father's. While his tone was sharp, there was an unexpected gentleness behind it as though he didn't want to sound the way he did. His words were crisp and not clipped, reminding her of Sirius's accent. He wasn't Welsh at all. Who was he?
"I hate to inform you that I think you've got that all wrong," Emma scoffed, finally ripping her hand out of his and crossing her arms. How long had she been holding his hand? If she remembered the moment at all correctly, he had walked into her and not the other way around. She felt her lips curl back into a sneer, and it was the man's turn to look dumbfounded. He clearly didn't expect her attitude.
"I beg your pardon?" he said, eyebrows raising into his hairline. God, he looked exactly like Fenrir with that look on his face.
"You walked into me," Emma said slowly. "Or are you too dumb to grasp that concept?"
"Excuse me? You're, what - twelve? And you're going to ask me if I'm dumb?"
Emma immediately began to splutter with her anger. "I'm nearly fifteen, thank you," she said, glaring at the man in front of her. "Bit rude, aren't you?"
"Says the 'nearly fifteen-year-old' who's the height of a first year."
"You've got to be bloody kidding me," Emma scoffed, crossing her arms. She was about to say something else when she heard Persephone calling her name. Emma whipped around to glare at Persephone, whose quick and excited walking slowed to almost a near halt as she approached. Persephone's eyes darted between Emma and the man, and her eyes widened.
"Emma, I see you've met Greyson," Persephone said, giving the man a sheepish grin.
"You know him?" Emma asked slowly, jerking her thumb over her shoulder at the man who was apparently named Greyson.
"Good ol' Greyson Fenmore the second," Persephone said, putting on the tone of someone royal, lifting her nose as if she was a snob. She then giggled, which died out as she took in the look on Emma's face. Emma didn't find it funny. "Er, yeah. Greyson was in his seventh year when we were in our first. Slytherin, you know."
Emma whipped back around to look at Greyson Fenmore, looking him up and down as if he were an inconvenience. "I don't remember seeing you."
"Well, I didn't make it a point to hang around with snotty little first years."
"Oh, Merlin," Persephone said quietly. She cleared her throat, gesturing vaguely at Emma. "Greyson, this is –"
"I don't care to know who your little friend is, Persephone," Greyson spat, pulling himself up to his full height. "You know damn well about how I feel about creatures –"
"If you're about to say what I think you're going to say, just do yourself a favor and stop right there," Emma said sharply. "I am not a damn werewolf, and you don't even know half of what I've been through."
"You're not a werewolf, eh? Then what's that there on your shoulder?"
That was a low blow, and Emma clamped her hand over the bite mark on her shoulder with an embarrassed flush crossing her face. Greyson was officially a proper arsehole, and Emma hated him.
"He attacked me when he wasn't transformed, in case you're wondering," Emma said quietly, all desire to fight lost. She looked over at Persephone and then glanced over at Greyson to get one final look at him. "I'll be outside."
Persephone didn't take long to meet Emma back out in the shopping area, and the moment she was outside, Emma lost it.
"Why didn't you ever think to tell me about Greyson?" Emma snapped. "I think that would be critical information for me to know!"
Persephone stared at Emma, regret written all over her face. She frowned and let out a long breath.
"I didn't think you would have cared," Persephone whispered.
"Persephone, are you aware of how absolutely insane this is? This summer has been an absolute mess, and then to find out –"
"He doesn't know!" Persephone shouted, cutting Emma off before she could finish what she was about to say. "He-he doesn't know."
"Who? The devil or his devil spawn?"
"The devil," Persephone said quietly. "He has no idea about Greyson. And Greyson didn't mean anything that he said. I swear Greyson is really sweet and–"
"He's sweet? Persephone, do you know how mental you sound?"
"Emma, please just listen to me!" Persephone pleaded, grabbing onto Emma's hands tightly. "I'll explain things when we're heading back to school, but please don't mention Greyson at all. Greyson doesn't know…doesn't know him and wants to keep it that way. If you say something, you know what'll happen. This has to be kept a secret."
Emma pulled her hands out of Persephone's and growled in aggravation. How was she supposed to keep a secret with Fenrir in the same damn room with her at nearly all times? It was going to be near impossible, but Emma knew that if Fenrir knew that he had a child, he would go after him. Emma swore that no one should ever be subjected to having to deal with Fenrir, and though Greyson was an arse, she wouldn't do that to him. She couldn't do that to anyone, no matter how angry they made her.
"Persephone, you better fucking tell me everything because this is going to be the worst possible secret I ever have to keep."
"I know," Persephone replied quietly. "I know."
They stayed out until curfew. They waited for the exact last possible moment to leave London, waiting at the fireplace in the Leaky Cauldron until 8:59 PM. Emma needed time to process that Greyson existed, and she didn't want to have to be with Fenrir longer than she had to. Persephone seemed inclined to agree, and so they waited. Perhaps it wasn't the smartest idea, but she doubted Fenrir would do anything too dramatic when she was leaving for school.
Fenrir's aggravation came off of him in droves when she stepped back into her room. Even Figaro stayed far away. It was like Fenrir's anger came out in supersonic waves from his place on the sofa, and Emma physically felt it. She felt herself start to get a little nervous; she didn't think he would get this angry with her for being out all day. Emma thought it was stupid because he was the one who suggested that she go out to get her things in the first place.
He looked particularly like his wolfish side that night, splayed out on the couch with a cigarette between his fingers. His shirt was off, and he was wearing his ripped jeans, which wasn't good. The bigger he made himself look, the more domineering he planned to be; the wilder he looked, the more power he wanted. He knew how to be intimidating, and even though Emma had grown used to Fenrir's behavior, it still worried her. Fenrir was willing to play dangerously with her tonight, more than displeased that she was gone for so long. He clearly wasn't happy that her plans had changed without him knowing.
"Where were you?" he growled out the moment Emma shut the door.
"In London," Emma said slowly, meeting Fenrir's eyes for only the briefest moment to judge whether she could look at him. His darkened gaze told her that it would be a poor idea to have extended eye-contact, and Emma set about adding her purchases to her trunk. She had to be submissive to appease him. "We were in London all day like I said we would be. Spent half the day in Diagon Alley and then went to a few Muggle stores nearby. Thought it would be a good idea to see what else I could pick up because I realized last minute my toiletries were low. That and I wanted to try and find a coat since I'm sure mine's small and once again, I didn't think about trying it on before. Couldn't find one I liked, though."
Emma learned that it was easier to sell a lie with Fenrir if she could find genuine truth to her statement. It wasn't entirely a lie that they went out in London to pick up a few things, and as long as she could remember that, Fenrir didn't pick up the lie. She knew that one day he would pick up on her deception, but she would continue to use her method of dancing around the truth until then. It wasn't too unlike what Remus used to do with her. She truly was her father's daughter, after all.
Fenrir's eyes scanned over the things Emma was putting away and the bags she still had left. He was searching for the lie in her words, but Emma was determined to not let him find one.
"I brought you a gift, actually," Emma said, taking a moment to reach for her purchases from Sugarplum's Sweet Shop. Fenrir eyed Emma suspiciously, the move unexpected. To be fair, Emma didn't know that she would ever do such a thing until she did it. It was meant to be funny, and she hoped that it would calm Fenrir down.
She flipped the bag upside down, separating her chocolates and other treats from what she had purchased Fenrir. Emma had gone overboard on sugar quills, decided on several bags of jelly slugs, but she also purchased blood pops. Blood pops were meant for vampires, but Fenrir's very nature made Emma feel like it was the perfect joke gift. The shopkeep gave her a funny look, but thank Merlin, didn't question the purchase. She could have lied and said they were for a vampire, but it was better not to have to explain. Emma gathered everything for Fenrir in her hands and crossed over to the sofa, holding out the purchases expectantly.
Fenrir's eyes narrowed as he searched her eyes, and then slowly, very slowly, he pulled himself back in. He stared, eyes still narrowed, at the candy in Emma's hands as he settled himself to sit like a normal person. Emma was relieved when he finally held his hands out for her to deposit everything into. She was even more relieved when he set everything down next to him and then arched an eyebrow at her, wanting an explanation.
"Because I was sick of you eating my sugar quills," Emma said pointedly. "The ones I had were meant to last me for a while, but you went through my three-month supply in a week. And I thought you would appreciate having your own bags of jelly slugs because God knows you tried to eat all of mine."
"And the blood pops?"
"I hardly think I need to remind you of every single time I've called you a vampire," she replied. "Now, I'm sure it's not your favorite flavor of blood, since it's not mine, but…"
Fenrir's eyes snapped to hers in surprise, and then suddenly, he began to laugh. He pulled her onto his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around her.
Sweet Merlin, it worked. She wasn't sure if he would find it funny, but he did, and the calculated risk was worth it. Emma could indulge for a few minutes and stay where she was. He was pleased with her again, and she needed to keep him that way.
"Perfection," he purred as he kissed her cheek before finally letting her go. "Where are your dress robes?"
"Oh," Emma said as she went back to putting things away. "I couldn't find anything I liked, so Persephone sat down with Madam Malkin to have something custom made. I know nothing about it, so it'll be a surprise when it shows up."
"I was hoping I would get to see," Fenrir muttered, settling himself into a more neutral position as he lounged back on the couch. He was appeased and in a much better mood.
"Well, not this time, you sugar hound," Emma said. She didn't miss the way his lips curled up slightly into a smile.
When it came time to finally sleep, Emma's mind was wandering too much. She kept thinking of Greyson and sneaking glances up at Fenrir from her book. It was disturbing just how much Greyson looked like his father; it was even more disturbing that neither of them knew each other. Clearly there was a story if Greyson knew that Fenrir was his father, but Fenrir had no idea he existed. Emma swore if Persephone didn't explain everything, she would lose it, especially since Greyson had his father's name.
The thought hit her like a slap in the face as her eyes darted back up to look at Fenrir.
The second. Greyson was Greyson Fenmore the second, which meant that there was a first, and damn it, the first was right in the room with her. Her thoughts had gotten so far ahead of her that she didn't even make the connection right away. Another thought hit her very quickly after – when they discussed her fictional "What if?" life, Fenrir had given her his real last name. That was why he hesitated to answer her. There was no way that the universe decided to be so kind as to bless her with such a vital piece of information.
Emma stared at Fenrir for a long moment, trying to process her revelation. Before the werewolf Fenrir Greyback existed, there was a man by the name of Greyson Fenmore. He was once a pure-blood wizard from Wales but was now the most savage werewolf of all time. And Emma finally had everything she needed to know to answer her questions. She knew Fenrir's age, could easily go through old school records and yearbooks, and she would get her answers.
She had to admit Fenrir was clever. He barely had to even change his name, and whether it was a product of convenience or not, it worked. Fenrir Greyback was infinitely more terrifying than Greyson Fenmore. Emma was probably one of the only few people alive who would ever know that. What a gloriously powerful position for her to be in.
Merlin's saggy tits.
The thought must have been a touch too loud as Fenrir looked up at her from his book of choice – something Muggle, to Emma's amusement.
"What?" he snapped, an eyebrow raising.
Emma put on a half-hearted smile.
"I was trying to figure out if I'm going to miss you," she said with a shrug. "You haven't been an absolute terror to me, and I was thinking about how I appreciated it."
Fenrir grunted in response, though a slight growl followed along with it. He didn't entirely believe her, but she wasn't surprised. Her heart was racing from the pure adrenaline of finally having a point of reference that Fenrir would have absolutely noticed. She had to switch gears.
"It's not just that, though," Emma said quietly. "I'm worried about you making me make my final decision on what I'd like to do. I don't feel like I have enough information."
A lie within a lie within a half-truth. Emma had mostly made her decision, but she genuinely still had no idea what exactly Fenrir wanted from her. Emma figured she was already digging herself deeper and deeper into a hole; she might as well keep going.
"You've made your decision already," Fenrir pointed out. "We all already know."
"I've mostly made my decision, and technically, I haven't said anything to anyone except for Dad. I've never said a word to you."
"You don't have to. I already know."
"That's still not the point, Fenrir. You have been avoiding telling me what exactly you want from me, and that's not fair. And don't you dare tell me that life's not fair because I'm getting sick of that being your reasoning for everything."
Fenrir's eyebrow raised, and he shifted himself again, leaning forward towards her with his elbows on his knees. He was finally willing to talk, but he was going to make her nervous as he did it. Getting a reaction out of Emma was one of his favorite things to do. She wouldn't give it.
"Do you really want to know?" he asked, his face twisting into the smile that she hated. Emma seriously hated Fenrir sometimes.
"Yes and no," Emma replied in a near whisper.
Fenrir latched onto the yes and was over top of her in seconds. He enjoyed being over her like this far too much, straddling her legs and boxing her in so she couldn't leave. Oh, how she hated when Fenrir got like this. His grip on her chin to hold her where she was wasn't as rough as it would typically be. It was almost reverent – almost. Emma would have backed away at the look in his eyes. He looked hungry, and Emma felt herself stop breathing, trying to brace herself for whatever it was he was about to say. Fenrir was so close to her that she swore he would kiss her. Emma hoped he wouldn't.
"I want to own you," he growled out. "I want to own every part of you, your heart, your body, your very soul. I want you to serve me and only me for the rest of your life. I want you to bear my pups – my powerful pups. I want the only thing that matters to you to be me. I want you to realize that you're mine, Rabbit, and I control you."
"Well, that doesn't sound fun," Emma huffed in annoyance. She took in a breath and let it out slowly to try and still her nerves. She had mostly figured those were Fenrir's intentions, but to hear him finally say it out loud was chilling. Emma couldn't let down her guard and let him win. "The werewolf equivalent of barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen sounds miserable. What about what I want? We haven't discussed it, and the fact you waited so long to tell me all of this is a bit annoying."
"And what do you want, Rabbit? You've already told me you don't want power."
Somewhere along the line, Emma realized that wasn't entirely true. She didn't want power, not in the sense that Fenrir did, but she did want power over Fenrir. Seeing the children in the packs had been what confirmed her need for control, though she didn't want it. They didn't deserve the lives they had to live. Her heart had broken for Killian when he explained the story of why his daughter was turned. He shouldn't have had to make that decision. Emma shouldn't have had to ask Remus to consider making the exact same decision.
Fenrir's reign was too tight, and it was incredibly wrong. As long as Fenrir was around, things would be difficult for werewolves, and it wasn't how things should be. The sense she had gotten from the werewolves at the World Cup was that they were tired, and they were resigned. They wanted to live in peace and didn't think it was worth fighting Fenrir. That didn't sit well for Emma. She knew it was dangerous territory, but she was at least willing to try. If Fenrir desired to have her as a mate, then she expected him to work with her.
Emma wanted to overthrow Fenrir and accomplish the things that she wanted to. It meant doing things she didn't want to, and she knew it, but she had already grown resigned to the idea of what Fenrir wanted. If Remus's stories were of any indication, things were going to be miserable with Fenrir. Until she was forced to join the pack, she was safe from the worst of it, and it gave her time to build her plans, but she needed Fenrir to agree.
She remained quiet. It would be better if Fenrir made the connection that she wanted power himself. If she were to outright say it, he would feel threatened, and he wasn't stupid. She tried to push that thought out as much as she could to allow Soleil to latch onto it. Luckily it didn't take long for Fenrir to pick up on it. He stilled like a dog catching the scent of a rabbit, and Emma knew she had him captured.
Fenrir's eyes narrowed slightly, and he lifted Emma's face a little further to pull her gaze back to his. He searched her eyes, and he was searching them hard. His smile was different this time, still wolfish and twisted, but genuinely delighted.
"You do want power," he said almost breathlessly.
"I see the appeal of it," Emma replied lightly. "I want to be more than just your mate, Fenrir. I want more."
His joy was just as palpable as his anger from earlier. He shifted himself to sit back on his feet so that he was no longer over her; he was allowing her to be his equal. Fenrir shifted forward to take her face between his hands, and once again, Emma worried he would kiss her. If he did, she would throw her entire plan away. That would be too much for her to handle.
"You want to be an Alpha," he breathed out, still searching her face. "You want to serve with me."
"If Voldemort is returning, then you're right," Emma said, trying to sound as earnest as she possibly could. She would have to twist the truth again, but it would be fine. "I want to be on the right side of things. I love the…the pups. I can find happiness, but I would like you to work with me, too, Fen. There are things that I want to do, too, and I feel like we could have a very happy partnership. You're powerful, but we can be even more powerful together."
"You have to earn it," Fenrir said quietly after a few long minutes. "As beautiful as it would be to have you right at my side from the beginning, you have to earn your place. I can grant you privilege as my mate, but you need to prove your worth to the pack to be an Alpha."
The universe was being unnaturally kind to her. She didn't think it was going to be this easy, and it felt wrong. What was going to be taken away from her for giving her such incredible gifts?
"I know," Emma said quietly.
"You'll have to fight."
"I know," Emma repeated. "I have my conditions, though."
"Shh," Fenrir said, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. "Shh, fy lleuad bach, don't ruin this moment for me. I have waited a very long time for this." He pressed another kiss to her forehead and then her nose and forced himself to stop when he saw the look she gave him. Fenrir knew better than to cross that boundary too soon. "We can discuss your conditions when we meet after your birthday."
Thank Merlin.
Very slowly, Fenrir backed off her bed and returned to his sofa, watching her as if she would change her mind.
"You understand that with the Dark Lord's return, you'll be expected to serve him as well, yes?" Fenrir asked. He was studying Emma closely. "You understand what that will mean? What that will entail?"
The potential of losing everyone she loved? The possibility that her father wouldn't actually understand what she was trying to do? That if Voldemort was returning, it meant she would have to pretend she believed in his views? That she would potentially have to beg for forgiveness when she finally succeeded in her plans? Emma knew all of that, but she had to be hopeful it would never come to that. But that was also why she had particular conditions. They weren't foolproof, but she would try to make them as solid as she possibly could.
"Yes," Emma said quietly, hoping that she sounded more sure than she felt.
"Good, fy lleuad," Fenrir said. He still sounded stunned; Emma had taken him completely off guard. "Very good."
Emma picked her book back up, trying to ignore the way Fenrir was staring at her. When she couldn't stand it any longer, Emma gave up and set her book aside. It wasn't as though she was reading the book anyway. Her eyes had stayed on the same page the entire time, unable to take in the words.
"I'm going to bed," Emma said, slipping under her covers. "Good night, Fen."
To Emma's surprise, Fenrir let her sleep in. She was startled to find that the clock on her nightstand said that it was ten in the morning. Emma was even more startled to find Fenrir's ring back on her finger. She had left his ring on her nightstand, waiting for him to mention that she wasn't wearing it, but he took matters into his own hands. Whatever act Emma sold to Fenrir had worked.
"You let me sleep," Emma said, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. She looked at Fenrir curiously, but he only shrugged.
"Thought you deserved it," he said gruffly. He gestured to the plate of toast on the table next to him. "Wasn't sure what else you'd want to eat this morning."
Emma gave the air a subtle sniff and gave Fenrir a soft smile as she smelled the mix of cinnamon and sugar. Well, well, Fenrir could be sensible if he thought he was getting what he wanted. That was excellent information to know.
The last day of the summer was always busy. Even though Emma had partially packed, between all the children walking between rooms to check on the other's progress, it felt like they were getting nowhere. Emma was beyond happy to return to Hogwarts and leave the entire mess she was in behind for a little while. She was terrified that she would be in an incredible amount of trouble with Fenrir in ten days.
Being busy was good, and it kept her thoughts at bay. Merlin, did she have a ton of them, but they could wait twenty-four hours more. At least she didn't have a full moon to contend with that year. When she brought it up to Fenrir, he only smiled at Emma's aggravation over the previous summer. Fenrir saw that night much differently than Emma did and confessed it was a fond memory. He enjoyed the chase even if he wasn't successful. Emma disagreed. It was not fun at all.
Even Persephone seemed happier than she had been the entire time Emma had been at the house. Persephone was clearly ready to go back to Hogwarts as well. Emma wasn't the only one with demons within the four walls of the home. Hogwarts was suddenly a place to escape to. After everything Emma had gone through, she understood why her father and Sirius were always happy to return.
Dinner felt almost like a celebration to Emma. She wouldn't have to be in a room with Jude for a very long time. If Jude were to have a regrettable accident while she was at Hogwarts, Emma couldn't say she would be too upset. She couldn't even get mad at his stupid comments; she was happy. Emma kept a mental countdown of just how many hours, how many minutes, and how many seconds were left. At this time tomorrow, she would be sitting in the Great Hall with the people who still wanted to be her friend.
Emma didn't expect that thought to be the one that sent her back into a sudden negative tailspin of thoughts. What if she had no friends? The moment it came out that her father was a werewolf, it was like people disappeared out of nowhere. Now that she had been attacked and the rumor of being a werewolf would be all but confirmed in the eyes of her peers, what would happen?
She packed her bag for the next day slowly when they returned upstairs. Her mind was too focused on how exactly the school year would go. Fenrir had picked up that something was wrong, but by some sheer miracle, he didn't question her. Emma had a feeling he already knew what was bothering her, but he was waiting for her to bring it up. In the meantime, Fenrir was pouring over yet another piece of parchment at the table. Instead of having a cigarette, he had a sugar quill tucked between his lips, and it amused Emma to no end. Perhaps it would be an excellent time to try and further sell that she was interested in what Fenrir wanted.
With a sigh, Emma set her bag to the side. Fenrir turned his head slightly, watching Emma warily as she approached. She knew that he would; this was new behavior for her, but Emma needed to make him think she was serious. Fenrir had been chasing her for years; for her to go to him was unfamiliar. She never made the first move, but that was going to have to change. Just because she had won one battle against Fenrir, it didn't mean that there weren't going to be at least a dozen more. It was going to be a process to win Fenrir over completely.
Emma dropped her chin onto Fenrir's shoulder with a soft, exhausted breath. The way he tensed up was very minute; she had taken him off guard for the second time in twenty-four hours. He wasn't sure what to think of it, and he eyed her suspiciously. Emma expected it but didn't move.
"What are you doing?" he asked her gruffly.
"It's called affection, Fen," Emma huffed, tilting her head to look at him. She dropped her cheek to his shoulder instead, and Emma raised an eyebrow in response to his. "Ever hear of it?"
"You've never done this before," he said, his eyes narrowing slightly. He pulled the sugar quill away from his mouth and set it down. He was intrigued by the change, though wary.
Emma snorted and turned her head to face the other way, closing her eyes.
"I'm worried about going back to school," Emma said quietly. "I'm not sure that I'm ready to see everyone yet."
Fenrir straightened up slightly but didn't dare make Emma move from where she was. Just like with Remus, his hand came up to gently brush his knuckles against her cheek.
"Why not?" he asked.
"I'm not you, Fen. I care about what people have to say about me, and I'm afraid to know what they're going to say now."
"Fuck them," Fenrir growled. "You already have everything you need. There's no use in worrying about what they have to say – what matters is what you're there to do. You have your pack, Emma. That's all you need."
Emma turned her head back the other way to look at Fenrir. She wasn't used to him looking at her the way he was, with fondness and thinly veiled concern. Very rarely did his eyes shift from something that wasn't coldness, and for a brief moment, all she could see was Greyson, and she had to look away. If she let her thoughts slip for too long, Soleil would be the one to betray her very thoughts.
"I know that's all I need," Emma agreed, with a sigh. She had to get back to the conversation at hand because she genuinely meant every word. Going back, as welcome as it was, would be a challenge. "But I also need to survive the year, Fen."
"You're too sensitive," he said softly, his hand stroking her hair. "You always were. I thought you would have grown out of that by now."
Emma didn't mask her pout. "I've gotten better with it," she said. "I think."
"You have," he agreed. "But you could stand to get a tougher skin. You're going to need it."
"Thanks," Emma huffed.
"I'm being honest with you," Fenrir said. "If you're worried about what people are going to say about how you look, don't. You're beautiful, Emma. You know that."
"Well, shit," Emma said, shooting Fenrir a glare. She huffed again and lifted her head to kiss his cheek. She hated when he complimented her, but it had been a thought that crossed her mind a million times in the past hour. Being told she was beautiful by Fenrir was less than ideal every single time, but it was what she needed to hear. She was sure Remus would tell her the exact same thing if he was at the platform tomorrow, but her thoughts needed to be soothed, and Fenrir was right there. "I think I might actually miss you, after all, Fen."
"I think you're getting sick," Fenrir said. "You would never do or say that in your right mind."
"I've had to deal with you for two weeks – my sanity went out the window days ago," Emma said, and Fenrir laughed.
When Fenrir was like this, playful and not overbearing, he was fine. Emma saw a side of Fenrir that others rarely got to see, left only for his pack. There would never be any returning from the things he had done and the things he was sure to do in the future; Emma knew that. He was too far gone, too depraved and sick, but she could tolerate him because she had to. She wasn't sure what that said about her, had thoroughly questioned herself many times, but she rationalized that it was a survival tactic. Any sane person would do what they had to in order to survive.
Everything she was doing was for survival, but not just for her. She planned to change things, and she was going to come out stronger than ever.
Emma was going to make sure that her family stayed safe. Jude was eventually never going to be an issue if she got her way, she was going to get Peter and make sure Sirius was free, and she was going to ensure her family's safety. It meant relying on Fenrir, manipulating him in all the ways he ever manipulated her, but she was determined. For one brief moment, Emma almost felt a little bad about what she was doing.
Fenrir trusted her to the point that he could start believing her. Fenrir wasn't stupid, he knew to approach her with caution, but Emma had been playing his game every day.
Every move she had made had been incredibly calculated over the past two weeks. It started as a way to make sure that Fenrir kept her safe before it slowly shifted. Her plan wasn't flawless, not in the least, but it was a start. A lot would depend on when Fenrir forced her to decide and how that negotiation went, but she was confident. She was going to be the one to ruin Fenrir, and it was going to be spectacular.
He didn't know that she had the very piece of information that could tear apart everything he had built. Knowing his name meant discovering his true identity and gave her the very blackmail she needed to keep him where she wanted. He had done the exact same thing to so many people over the years. It was time that someone returned the favor. It was funny that the things Fenrir taught her growing up were going to be what led to his end.
For a moment, Emma considered using Greyson as her last-ditch bargaining chip, but she couldn't do that. Greyson didn't ask for Fenrir to be his father in the same way she didn't ask to have Fenrir even in her life. She knew that what she was doing was dangerous, and she wasn't about to drag someone else in if she didn't have to. Emma had done more than enough damage on that front. There was a strong possibility that he would still kill her anyway, but she would be damned if she didn't try to get her win in the end.
If Emma did things right, she could come to terms with the things she would have to do well before they ever had to happen. As long as she could help others and make their lives easier, it didn't matter. She would join Fenrir's pack if she had to. If it meant she could live another day, it wasn't like she hadn't learned to start finding happiness wherever she was. She was throwing every moral she had entirely out the window, but as long as her family was safe, she didn't care. Emma cared for her family more than anything, and she would do anything for them.
Fenrir would never see it coming.
a/n: hello greyson fenmore. :)
anyway, this chapter quite literally scared me to write. I've known where Emma's story was going to go for a very long time. I knew that there was going to be a series of significant moments that led to the path she would ultimately go on. This chapter was that point for her, and this is where everything changes. I've said time and time again that this isn't a happy story, but there is happiness in the end. I think it goes without saying that things are going to be interesting from this point forward.
I have quite literally been terrified to introduce Greyson - on both ends. I always knew Fenrir was going to have an entirely different name. His son was a concoction earlier this year. Baby Grey wasn't meant to make an appearance until way later in the series. I couldn't wait.
That all being said, I'll be taking a very very very short break. I have been writing this series for the better part of a year and a half without stopping. It won't be a long break, but I'm going to force myself take one. This story is absolutely not over (do you think I'm going to end this now? PFFFTTTTT).
I totally suggest joining the Discord in the meantime (link in the last chapter + in my profile through Twitter), because I'm sure there are words that are wanting to be said. You can find me on all social media at mymoonyandstars if you want to interact with me in the meantime.
to my late night readers, it's late, go to bed! love you and good night!
to all of my lovely and wonderful readers who have followed me thus far, thank you thank you, thank you. You are honestly all fantastic and amazing and I cannot thank you enough for sticking around with me. A few of you have been here since the beginning, a few of you are new - I'm incredibly blessed to have you all.
Have an excellent rest of 2020, and here's to 2021!
Shard - Oh goodness you have been an absolute delight. I know I already told you on Discord, but I want to say it again here - THANK YOU. Now...will there be tolerable Fen in the future? Dunno. Lot's changed with this chapter hehehehehehe
Maricate - not sure if you've made it up to this point (but to respond to your review on chapter 24) - thank you! I definitely did the same while writing it!