The entirety of Hufflepuff seemed to be living on a near-permanent high after the first task was completed. There was overall panic that half of Cedric's face had been burned by the dragon's flames, but Madam Pomfrey fixed him up quickly. The only damage left from the dragon's flames were the remains of his singed eyebrows and the ends of his hair. No one would ever have guessed that anything had ever happened.

The night after the first task seemed like a complete blur. It was possibly the best party Hufflepuff had ever had – plenty of food and a copious amount of free-flowing alcohol. The music was loud, and no one bothered to check on them. Someone shouted for Cedric to open the golden egg, and Cedric, with a wild smile on his face, did exactly that. Everyone sobered up at the first ear-piercing scream from the egg that left behind a ringing silence in the common room. Rather than try to make theories, the Hufflepuffs decided to call it a night.

That particular December seemed to bring in the worst weather that Emma had seen at Hogwarts. The castle had seen heavy snow and strong winds, but not so early in the month. Emma was not envious of Durmstrang out on the water or Beauxbatons in their carriage. Alexi often complained that the ship was cold, and Emma often listened in on the Beauxbatons students' conversations during ballet lessons. The students from Beauxbatons still hadn't warmed up to her entirely, but she was getting closer to the Durmstrang students. Only Viktor seemed to be missing from the Durmstrang group most days, but he was often elsewhere. Emma had heard complaints that he was spending far too much time in the library.

The first full week of December, the castle was set abuzz with a different set of news. The first Saturday of December, Professor Sprout entered the Hufflepuff common room with a smile on her face. While Sprout had been visiting the dorms more frequently that year, it was still a surprise to see her. Everyone stopped what they were doing to take in the beaming smile on Professor Sprout's face.

"Good morning, my sweet badgers," she said, holding tightly to the rolled-up parchment in her hand as everyone said good morning back. "I bring exciting news this morning!" she said, unfurling the parchment with a flourish.

Hannah, who was closest to Professor Sprout, let out a gasp. "The Yule Ball?" she questioned, trying to keep her excitement out of her voice. "We're going to have a ball?"

"We are, my dear!" Professor Sprout said excitedly as she made her way to the dorm's bulletin board to pin the poster up. "It's a traditional part of the Tri-wizard Tournament! It'll be open to fourth years and above –"

Emma tuned Professor Sprout out at that point and returned to working on her homework instead. The idea of a ball and dancing seemed wonderful, but there was only one person she wanted to go with. She doubted that Greyson would be allowed to attend since he was no longer a student. Emma's gaze lifted slightly to glance over at Justin, and she hummed thoughtfully to herself. She didn't think Greyson would have a problem with her going with Justin if she really wanted to go. At least the dress robes made sense.

"Oh, Emma!" Professor Sprout said, placing a gentle hand on Emma's shoulder to get her attention. "Just who I was looking for!"

She was just who Professor Sprout was looking for? Emma frowned slightly, trying to quickly run through everything she had done. She hadn't been playing pranks with the twins as they were still acting strangely; she wasn't causing any sort of mischief with Persephone; she had been good that year. It didn't seem like the right time to have too much fun when everything was uncertain.

"Did I do something, Professor?" Emma questioned, setting her quill down and looking up at Sprout. It wouldn't surprise her if she did something wrong on accident or had forgotten an assignment. Her mind seemed to be elsewhere most days, but the usual uptick of holiday classwork kept her preoccupied.

"No, dear," Professor Sprout said, giving Emma's shoulder a light squeeze. "I just thought you would be pleased to hear that special permission has been given for your date to attend the Yule Ball." Professor Sprout giggled at the embarrassed but delighted blush that crossed Emma's face. "Greyson was a wonderful student, and your father already reached out to Professor Dumbledore. There was absolutely no hesitation in saying that he would be allowed to attend. It's not just students that will be present, after all!"

"Greyson can be my date?" Emma asked, failing miserably to keep the hopeful tone out of her voice. "Daddy already asked for me? He knew already?"

"Of course, he knew," Sprout laughed. "He's known for some time."

Emma sighed and let herself relax. "I'm not surprised," Emma muttered. "Very much like my father to not say a word." It took next to no time for Emma to get up and write to Greyson and ask if he would go with her. She felt only the slightest of guilt when Justin asked her to be his date the following week.

"Ah, so we'll get to meet this mythical boyfriend of yours?" Justin asked, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly when Emma declined.

"Yeah," Emma said with an apologetic smile. "I really would have gone with you, though."

"Well, if you won't go to the Yule Ball with me, then will you at least come to Hogsmeade with me this weekend? Or do you have plans?"

Emma looked over at the bulletin board with the sign announcing that month's Hogsmeade trip. It sat neatly between all of the notices from students looking for missing things, study group requests, and the Yule Ball's announcement. She had considered the idea of going to Hogsmeade but wanted one month free of Fenrir and hadn't said a word to him.

Emma knew there was a strong possibility he would find out about it and be mad at her for not telling him, but she didn't care. After everything she had learned, the anger she held towards Fenrir had flared up exponentially. Though it had dropped down to a simmering aggravation, Emma couldn't imagine herself being too happy having to see Fenrir. There were too many things she wanted to say, but she couldn't – not just yet. Besides, she had spent far too much time with Fenrir, and the idea of spending more time with him seemed like a miserable prospect.

"I, ah…I don't have plans," Emma said. "But I wasn't exactly planning on going this month."

"What?" Justin asked, looking entirely aghast at such a thing. "Don't you need to buy Christmas gifts?"

"Well, I do, but –"

"Then why don't you come out?"

"I don't really know," Emma said, worrying her lip. "The full moon is coming up and –"

"And if you went into Hogsmeade this weekend, you won't be sick this time. We go on Saturday instead of Sunday, and the full moon is on the eighteenth. Saturday should be fine, right?"

Emma stared hard at Justin and looked back over at the Hogsmeade announcement. He had a point. Each trip so far had been within the confines of the worst of the full moon days, and while she wasn't entirely miserable each time, she was tired. Greyson was working more than usual to account for the Christmas holidays and wouldn't be able to go, which meant one less worry. If Fenrir didn't know about the trip or at least was under the impression that she wasn't planning on going, where was the harm in her going?

"Come on, Emma," Justin pleaded. "You've been nose-deep in work because you keep waiting until the last minute to do it. Just come out and have some fun this weekend. You deserve it."

Emma thought about it for a long moment, and to her surprise, she agreed.

It was a cold and snowy day, but the wind wasn't blowing. Emma begrudgingly still wore the oversized coat Fenrir gave her, but at least it was warm. With the cold weather fully in gear, she hoped to finally pick up a new jacket. As Emma walked next to Justin, half-listening to him talking about the newest comic book he read, she idly wondered if she could convince Remus to take her to London. There were plenty of stores she could shop at in York but heading into London seemed like the better option.

Stepping into Hogsmeade was like stepping into a Christmas village, and Emma's stomach squirmed with delight. Even in the daylight, the lights hanging up shone bright, and the garland hanging across windows looked beautiful. A small pang of sadness swept through Emma for a moment, wishing that Greyson were there, but she would see him in two weeks. In the meantime, she would enjoy her time in the village.

"Where do you want to go first?" Justin asked, turning to Emma with excitement.

"Anywhere," she said. "I just want to be out for the day and not have to worry about a thing."

"Excellent," Justin said, rubbing his hands together and then reaching up to pull Emma's knit hat over her eyes with a laugh. Emma let out a shout of aggravation as she pulled her hat back up and shot Justin a glare as he started to run off. "Last one to Zonko's owes the other a Butterbeer!"

Without the threat of Fenrir around, Emma found herself enjoying being in the village. She didn't have to worry about Fenrir's comments, didn't have to hide Greyson, didn't have to think about anything at all. It felt like far too long since she had enjoyed herself, and while she spent time with Justin frequently, they had never spent time in Hogsmeade together. She vowed to make it a point to spend more time with him during each outing – he made the day that much more enjoyable.

After spending most of the day between Zonko's, Honeydukes, and the Three Broomsticks, Emma and Justin decided to head to Dervish and Banges. Emma didn't particularly need anything, but Justin wanted to see if he could find something interesting to give his parents for Christmas. It wasn't something Emma understood entirely, but it was a much safer option than something from Zonko's.

Nothing felt out of the ordinary the closer they got to Dervish and Banges. Emma was jokingly happy with Justin, still giggling over winning their impromptu race and being treated to a round of Butterbeer. While Justin was taller than her, he was less nimble and slipped on the snow-covered ground as they ran. Emma more than happily took advantage of her small size to sneak through the crowds of students and the witches and wizards visiting. She felt lighter, more vibrant – as if every weight on her shoulders was lifted.

Justin made another comment about losing their race from earlier in the day, making Emma smile. As Justin continued to complain, Emma started to laugh, but the laugh that was set to leave Emma's lips died in her throat at the familiar voices that met her ears. She had to be imagining things.

Emma skidded to a halt, slipping on a patch of packed down snow, and straightened up quickly. She paled considerably; her eyes locked on some of the last people she ever expected to see in the village standing near Scrivenshaft's. It had been months since she had seen any of the other werewolves, but they were impossible for her to miss. If Emma didn't feel sick to her stomach, she might have laughed at everyone walking past, wholly unaware of the sheer danger in the village.

Fergus turned his attention to Emma first, pulling in a deep breath with a wicked grin crossing his face. Emma's stomach dropped with the pure revulsion she felt, and she instinctively went for her wand until Balin looked her way. Being the larger of the three, Balin was still just as terrifying as he was the first time Emma saw him. He gave her a once-over and then elbowed Fergus hard in the side to silence the start of his stupid giggling. Raoul was the much subtler of the group, only his eyes moving in Emma's direction. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his coat and leaned down to say something to Balin, who nodded in response.

Justin only made it a few steps further before stopping and turning back to give Emma a questioning look.

"Em, you all right?" Justin asked. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Oh, it's much worse than that," Emma said as Fergus looked back at her. The slide of his tongue across his lips and the wolfish grin that was still on his face made Emma queasy. Out of everyone, she was sure that Fergus was her least favorite. She didn't like him the first time, and she had to resist the urge to reach for her wand and throw him halfway across the village.

Justin's brow furrowed as he stared at Emma, not understanding Emma's response. He took a moment longer to study Emma before slowly turning his head to follow her gaze. Justin immediately shrunk back and grabbed Emma's hand, pulling her off to the opposite side of the street. It was the fastest she had ever seen him move, and while the gesture was appreciated, it wasn't going to be of any use.

"Emma, are they –"

"Yes," Emma said quickly, glancing over at Justin. "Maybe they're just here to do some holiday shopping?" The words sounded stupid to Emma the moment they left her lips, and she grimaced as Raoul looked over at her with a raised eyebrow. Emma's frown deepened, and she crossed her arms as she watched Raoul's eyes darted pointedly towards an alleyway. Emma huffed out a disbelieving laugh when she realized where Raoul was looking. She didn't have an enjoyable time the last time she was dragged down the particular path. Emma had no doubt that a very unpleasant surprise would meet her at the end of it.

"I've got to go," Emma said to Justin, taking a few steps backward in the hopes she could somehow get out of the village. If Fenrir was in Hogsmeade even without her saying a word, it didn't feel like it would end well for her.

"Emma –"

"Just go," Emma said, taking a few steps back. "Don't get yourself pulled into something you don't need to be a part of." She gave Justin a slightly shaky smile as she looked over to the trio that had gone back to pretending they were looking at something in the shop's window.

"I'll…I'll meet you back at the common room," Justin said slowly. He crossed the space between himself and Emma and pulled her into a tight hug. When he finally let go, Emma fixed Justin with a hard stare until he eventually turned and left.

Emma didn't think she stood a chance with multiple werewolves, but she didn't particularly want to deal with Fenrir. Would it be better to go willingly? Or should she try to escape? She cast one more look at the trio that had stopped talking and slipped herself into a crowd heading towards the village. Perhaps her height would be to her benefit.

It didn't take Emma too long to realize the flaws in her plan as she kept tight to the group she had wedged herself into. One: she was very small and dealing with three grown men. Two: all three men could track her down quickly. Three: Balin was somehow more terrifying than Fenrir.

Balin had Emma pulled out of the crowd she was in far quicker than she would have liked and with a surprising amount of subtlety. The group she tried to mesh with continued on their way, none the wiser that Emma was even missing. Balin's grip on her upper arm was painful, and Emma grimaced as he pulled her off to the side of the street somewhere between Honeydukes and the Three Broomsticks.

"And just where exactly were you planning on going?" Balin asked, turning Emma to face him.

"Going to get a gift," Emma said through grit teeth. She shook her arm to try and get Balin's hand off of her, but his grip tightened. Emma fought back the whimper of pain threatening to escape and tried to focus on Soleil growling in the back of her mind. Soleil was even less amused with Balin. "Can't imagine that you lot came alone."

"Hmm," Balin said, his eyes narrowing. "Fenrir did say you were a slippery one."

"Learned from the best, really," Emma replied. "And to what do I owe this particular displeasure in the first place? You weren't exactly high up on my list, but I suppose you're better than Fergus." She bit back the urge to growl at Balin when his hand shifted to wrap around the back of her neck and pulled her to his side. His hold on her wasn't any less rough.

"Well, your mate knew you would be less than pleased if he were to approach you in the middle of the street," Balin said, half-dragging Emma back the way they came. "Which meant he needed to make sure that he got you one way or another."

"Three werewolves for one girl? Sounds a bit like overkill, no?"

A derisive snort left Balin's nose. "Funny that you would think it's only three. Forgot you had a sense of humor."

"There are others?"

Balin bent low, and Emma shivered at his hot breath against her face. "You're surrounded."

Emma turned her head just enough to meet Balin's dark eyes. She thought that perhaps she would catch him in some sort of lie, but nothing in his expression betrayed his words. Emma started to scan everyone around her, hoping for some kind of idea of who was around. However, it would be impossible for her to tell; it wasn't like werewolves looked any different from anyone else.

She had to admit that if Fenrir's goal was to make her nervous, he did an excellent job. The very act of heading down the same alley she got herself trapped in the previous year brought back the feelings. At least this time she knew what was going to meet her at the end. She took a deep breath, trying to channel her nerves into any other feeling, but it was difficult with Balin. He didn't exude the same energy as Fenrir, but he didn't hide that he had the upper hand in the situation.

Balin shoved Emma hard around the corner, finally releasing her from his grasp. Emma shot him a glare as he walked past her, and she rubbed the back of her neck, keeping her gaze low. She took a deep breath and lifted her gaze, hoping her expression was somewhat neutral when she met Fenrir's eyes.

Fenrir was the picture-perfect definition of cocky arrogance, a king sitting upon his throne. It was a throne made of rubbish, but a throne all the same. He sat atop a stack of turned-over crates next to a rubbish bin. They were the same crates that Emma considered using for her escape, and her lips pressed into a thin line as she surveyed Fenrir. He was leaning back, cool as can be, with his elbow propped on the bin and his legs spread wide. Fenrir seemed determined to take up as much space as possible, and he did it well.

Emma knew this version of Fenrir far too well for it to have any real effect on her. She wasn't amused being back in the place he had threatened to bite her the first time, but she could handle Fenrir. All she had to do was keep herself calm. While she was okay, Emma didn't miss the way that the other three werewolves seemed cowed. Balin and Fergus took up space of their own, but they were slouched. Raoul stood tall next to Fenrir but kept his head down. Fergus and Balin stood close by but off to the side.

It appeared that Raoul's status was indeed closer to Fenrir's as his second, and he was allowed to stand tall and above Balin and Fergus. However, Balin and Fergus weren't afforded the privilege despite being alphas. Emma decided to do the exact opposite of Balin and Fergus. She stood up a little straighter as Soleil growled her approval somewhere in the back of her mind at the move. She was Fenrir's equal in this situation, and even if she wasn't, she would pretend. Even if Emma had told him about Hogsmeade, he would have tested her like this. She should have known.

Emma crossed her arms over her chest, raising an eyebrow at Fenrir and lifting her chin defiantly. Two could play this game, and she learned from the best.

Only the slightest twitch of Fenrir's lips betrayed his amusement with her. He leaned forward, dropping his elbows to his knees, and searched Emma closely. Emma was silently grateful that Fenrir's coat was huge on her body, but his eyes still seemed to trace every one of her curves as if she were on display. Fenrir chuckled softly, and one side of his lips lifted in a smirk as he finally met Emma's gaze.

"You know," he sighed, "every single time I get to lay eyes on you, you look more beautiful."

"Right," Emma scoffed, a disbelieving smile crossing her face. "What are you doing here, Fen?"

"Getting right to it, are you?"

"Well, you were the one who raised me when I wasn't raising myself. Shouldn't be much of a surprise, should it?"

"Hmm," Fenrir hummed, sitting up a little straighter. He let out a growl when Fergus began to giggle, and Fergus immediately shut up. Emma found herself mildly intrigued by the interaction, and she glanced over at Balin, who was practically shooting daggers at Fergus. Raoul didn't dare move an inch.

"Well, if I remember correctly, I believe we had a deal," Fenrir said. "You tell me when you're allowed out of the castle, and we sit down and have a little talk. And what did you not do?"

Emma straightened up further, not daring to back down. "The deal was that I would tell you when the trips were, provided I would be here," Emma said.

"Not quite sure that's how I remember it," Fenrir said slowly, running a hand over his beard, "but yet, here we are. Perhaps you thought by not telling me you would be here, you could meet whoever you'd like freely?"

Of course. It was more than a test – Fenrir was hoping to catch her in a different lie.

Emma pursed her lips, looking between the other werewolves. Did they know the truth about her and Greyson, or was that something Fenrir kept to himself? It was no longer a secret that they knew of his existence, but were they aware of just how far things went? Emma glanced between the three – Raoul had to know, but Balin and Fergus did not.

"Can't meet up with someone who isn't here," Emma said. "Besides, I was unaware that I would be dragged out into the village, Fenrir. You can't complain that I'm here when I had no plans of being here at all. If I had known, I would've told you. I'm not stupid enough to break a deal with you. Besides, you're here, aren't you? No harm done – I came willingly." Mostly.

The muscle in Fenrir's jaw jumped with his aggravation, but he ignored Emma's comments.

"I'm only here because I had a feeling," Fenrir replied slowly.

"Well, it turns out your feeling was correct," Emma huffed. "Now, can I go? You've seen me, and I'm already annoyed with you as it is with that little stunt you pulled with Scamander. I would rather not be here longer than I need to be, and we currently have nothing to discuss."

"What stunt? Did Scamander not come to a conclusion?"

"Of course, he came to a bloody conclusion."

"Then what is the issue?"

"The issue is that he told me that I'm a –"

Emma immediately stopped herself from daring to say the words around Fenrir. It was one thing for her to start to accept it with her family and her closest friends. It was another thing entirely to say the words aloud to Fenrir. It was what he wanted from her, and she really didn't want to have that conversation with an audience present. This wasn't at all how she expected things to go.

Fergus, Balin, and Raoul's sharp gazes were trained on her with a curious fascination, making Emma uncomfortable. Emma knew it was stupid to care so much, she was technically with her kind, but she needed to take things in steps. Tears of frustration started to pool in her eyes, and she blinked quickly to keep them at bay. She wouldn't dare cry in front of the others.

"That you're a what?" Fenrir pressed, his eyebrow raising. When Emma didn't answer, only lifted her chin further and leveled Fenrir with a stare, he began to laugh. "Oh, don't you dare tell me you're going to try denying what you are now," Fenrir chuckled. Emma was surprised at how good-natured Fenrir was, sure he would be overbearing. "Thought it was clever, really. Two birds with one stone, if you will."

"It was cruel."

"Cruel having someone tell you that you're a wolf? Someone you finally can't ignore the truth from? Gods knows that you refuse to ever believe a word I say."

"It was cruel to subject me to being followed around like an animal in a zoo!" Emma spat. "To have me followed as if I was nothing more than…" Emma took in a deep breath, annoyed at how uneven her breathing became with her aggravation. "As if I was nothing more than an animal," she said weakly. The aggravated tears started falling before Emma could stop them. She sucked in a sharp breath, angrily wiping at her eyes and keeping her gaze downcast. Her cheeks warmed up with her embarrassment, and her lip curled at Fergus's amused laugh.

"Don't make me launch you halfway across the village, Fergus," Emma snarled, lifting her eyes just enough to meet his. "We all know how well that fared for your last time." Fergus looked over at Emma, momentarily stunned into silence before bursting out into hysterical laughter.

"You hear that? She said she'll launch me halfway across the village," Fergus laughed, looking over at Balin for some sort of support and then at Fenrir. The smile on his face slipped slightly as he took in the now unamused expression on Fenrir's face. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me. The little princess is really going to try this shit with you here, Fen? You're going to let that happen?"

"Fergus, I doubt that you need to be reminded that Emma's higher up than you," Raoul spoke up. "As the alpha's mate –"

"Really? The little bitch is a higher rank than me? I'm an alpha of a pack, and she's nothing more than a pathetic little pup. It's been months, and the little princess still can't bloody accept what she is."

Fenrir stood up slowly just as Emma pulled out her wand. He was in absolutely no rush, and he watched on with silent glee as Emma pointed her wand at Fergus.

"Call me that one more time, Fergus," Emma snarled. "I dare you."

"Settle down, little wolf, put your wand away," Fenrir chuckled as he stepped up just behind Emma. He pressed Emma's hand down, forcing her to lower her wand, and placed a hand on her shoulder. "You know, there's an easier way to settle this."

Emma reluctantly tucked her wand back away and turned her head to look at Fenrir as he bent down to be more on her level. Little wolf. That was a new name for her. She was sure that Fenrir had never used it before, and if he had, he had never said it with such pride and affection before. Emma was about to question what he meant, but a wolfish smile twisted his lips, pitting dread deep down in her stomach. Whatever he said next wasn't going to be good, and he was already far too pleased with himself.

"You have power," Fenrir purred, his eyes practically twinkling with his delight. "Use it."

Emma sucked in a sharp breath, looking at Fenrir in confused horror. "What do you mean?" Emma asked. "Use it? Use what? What power, Fen? You said –"

"I said you would have to work for it," Fenrir said. "And what better time than now? You will have to start at some point. Are you going to let him talk about you like that?"

"Oh, please," Fergus scoffed. Balin looked as though he wanted to say something, but he seemed to know better than to aggravate Fenrir and kept his lips pressed tightly together.

"Fen, I don't –" Emma started to say, stunned silent by the soft shh that left Fenrir's lips. The dread she felt slowly melted away, leaving behind a faint sense of calm.

"Who holds the power here?" Fenrir asked, lifting a hand to brush away a stray tear that fell. Emma was still confused, and she tilted her head, just barely leaning into Fenrir's touch unconsciously as he ran his hand through her hair. "You do," he said, inching a little closer into Emma's space.

"Me?" Emma asked, not daring to believe that Fenrir would ever say such a thing. The proud smile on his face and his subtle nod said otherwise. Fenrir gripped her chin and turned her face back out to look over at Fergus and Balin.

"You can have them do anything you want," Fenrir said.

"Anything?" Emma asked.

"Anything."

The idea was suddenly very tempting, and Emma suddenly found herself back to her final morning at Saint Nicholas's. She remembered the steady thrum of pure adrenaline in her veins, the twisted thrill of having power over Fenrir. It was a heady feeling, one that took over every fiber of her being, one that was heavily influenced by the very creature that stirred inside her.

Emma couldn't deny that she was aggravated by the entire situation. While the full moon was a week away, she felt the gentle stirrings of its pull beneath her skin. She was taken entirely off guard by Fenrir's presence but even more taken aback that there were others. Surrounded, Balin told her. Fenrir she could almost predict, but the others were too much. Emma knew that Fergus annoyed her, knew he would wind up being an issue in the end, but what would it mean to take advantage of what Fenrir was offering?

Power.

She felt Fenrir's breath hot on her ear as he chuckled softly at the twitch of her nose. "Just like a rabbit," Emma was sure Fenrir would say, but he said nothing. She hated the habit, wasn't sure where it ever came from but was glad that Fenrir didn't comment.

"Anything?" Emma questioned once more, her mind already turning at the possibilities. What could she have done to Fergus? It seemed so much more satisfying to take care of things herself, raising her wand and casting a thoroughly overpowered knockback jinx his way. But the idea of having someone else do what she wanted seemed oddly alluring.

"Anything," Fenrir repeated. "Why don't you have Balin do whatever you want? He'll have to listen to you."

"Why not you?" Emma asked. Fenrir had released his hold on her chin, but she didn't dare turn her head.

"Where's the fun in that when you can be the one in control?"

He was right. Where was the fun in letting Fenrir take over when she could be the one in charge? It wasn't often that both Emma and Soleil were on the same train of thought. The thoughts running through Emma's head were agreed upon with no hesitation. She was aggravated with Balin and his unnecessary roughness, as well. He didn't have to hold onto her so tightly, but he did because he could.

For a long moment, Emma considered having Fergus going after him instead. The feeling was further compounded as she felt Fenrir's fingers brush against the back of her neck, and he growled lightly, displeased by what he found. She doubted Fenrir would mind if she had both werewolves fight each other – he was annoyed with Balin, too. In fact, the idea of having them fight seemed like a fascinating prospect.

"Ah," Fenrir chuckled, "you want to take it further, don't you?"

"Yes," Emma said quietly. "I want them to fight."

Raoul said nothing, but Fergus and Balin immediately started to complain.

"Oh, come the fuck on, Fenrir," Balin said in disbelief.

"You're really going to let the little bitch make demands now?" Fergus questioned, crossing his arms.

"I agree with a lot of your ideas, Fen, but this is ridiculous."

Fergus and Balin continued complaining about the situation, and Emma listened quietly to what they had to say. She didn't care that they were complaining, but it was annoying. If they wanted to dig their own grave, then that was on them. Fenrir seemed to feel the same way as he gave Emma's shoulder a squeeze and stood up straighter. Whatever look Fenrir gave Balin, and Fergus shut them up quickly.

"And you two are idiots," Fenrir growled. "You are to listen to whatever she says to do. I don't care what it is she wants you to do – her word is law, just as mine is. Now here's what I think, as Emma's new to this, you'll listen to what I have to say, and she issues the command."

Emma found it curious that Fenrir's hand never left her shoulder as he walked behind her to stand on her other side. She felt considerably calmer than she had before, but something about that didn't feel entirely right. Emma wanted to consult with Soleil, but the wolf was aggravatingly quiet. However, that wasn't something altogether unexpected when Fenrir was around; Soleil never seemed to know what she wanted to do. Some days Soleil wished to fight, but on others, she was as quiet as could be.

She half-listened to what Fenrir was saying as she tried to process the strange change in her emotions. Fenrir was going into what he wanted Balin to do to Fergus in great detail, and Emma barely reacted. She didn't quite like the idea of the things Fenrir was saying, but he made sense. It only got worse when he said what he wanted Fergus to do to Balin, but still, Emma didn't say a single word.

"Anything else you can think of, Emma?" Fenrir suddenly asked, squeezing her shoulder to bring her back to where they were. Emma was unaware that her mind had started to wander too far until that very moment, and she straightened up slightly.

"No," Emma said quietly. Was that the correct answer to give? What else had Fenrir even said? She tried to remember what exactly was said and only gave Fenrir a passing glance in question. The look on his face made it obvious he had no intention of repeating himself, but Emma wasn't even sure what was said. She looked over at Fergus and Balin, both of them looking more annoyed by the minute.

"Then say the words," Fenrir purred. His grin grew even more wicked the very moment Fergus and Balin started to complain once more.

Emma didn't need to be told what to say – the words seemed to pop into her mind of their own volition. She started to open her mouth to speak, but a sudden squawk pulled her attention.

"Emma!"

Whatever concentration Emma had was broken by Ducky's delighted squeal. She looked over her shoulder past Fenrir with wide eyes, surprised to see the now taller boy running in her direction. He gave her absolutely no time to think as he leaped into her arms, forcing her to catch him. She stumbled slightly with the sheer force of Ducky's running leap, caught only by Fenrir's hand on her back to keep her steady. Everything felt both right and very wrong.

Emma felt like she was slapped in the face, the sudden realization of what she was about to say hitting her like a ton of bricks. If it weren't for Ducky suddenly nestled in her arms, face hidden in her neck, she would've said the words. She would have issued the command with all of the venom and conviction that Fenrir would have. Bile rose in her throat, and her stomach knotted painfully at the thought. She could have been just as ruthless as the very man who practically raised her.

The words "Do it" would have left Emma's lips with a familiar and disturbingly cold tone as if Fenrir himself had said them. It was funny how Fenrir always had a way of making her forget herself.

But this felt much different; Emma just wasn't sure why.

"I can't," Emma whispered to Fenrir. She looked between Fergus and Balin, Ducky, and then back at Fenrir. "Fen, I can't…"

There was no mistaking the disappointed look that crossed Fenrir's face, but he didn't seem too surprised. The hand that he ran through her hair was gentle and affectionate, more reminiscent of the Fenrir she knew from the end of the summer, but his gaze was dark as he turned his attention to Fergus and Balin. He locked eyes with Raoul and jerked his head back in the direction of the street.

"Take her with you," Fenrir growled at Raoul. "I'm not done yet, but I don't think she's ready to see this." Fenrir gave Fergus a once-over, his lip curling. "And you – get out of my sight," he snarled at Fergus. "Gather the others and leave; I'll deal with you later."

"Don't I get a say in this?" Emma asked, startled by the almost pleading tone to her voice. She watched as Fergus left, grumbling all the way.

"Do you want to see what's going to happen?"

"I…" Emma trailed off, looking down at Ducky and then over at Raoul for some sort of guidance. The man was as stoic as ever, his gaze level and face expressionless. She knew that Raoul knew what was about to happen, but he wasn't about to sway her decision.

"Take her," Fenrir repeated, making the decision for her. He stepped away from her,

Emma made to protest, but Raoul was quick to pull her away. She instinctively flinched at how fast Raoul grabbed hold of her, prepared for the same pain Balin left behind, but it was all for show. Raoul was far gentler but no less firm in his grip around her shoulders as he walked her back down the alley. Emma unconsciously tucked herself into Raoul's side when she was sure that she heard a sickening snap that twisted her stomach.

It was easy to let Raoul guide her to wherever he was. A few people who knew her gave her strange looks when they noticed her holding Ducky but quickly looked away. The boy looked similar enough that he could be a relative. Curious, Emma cast a quick look up at Raoul and hummed to herself – he could look like one, too.

When Raoul turned down the road towards the Hog's Head Inn, Emma let out a breath of relief. She didn't like the idea of going to the pub, but it felt like a safe option. Emma didn't dare speak a word until they made it into the pub, and Raoul let her go. Soleil seemingly couldn't shut up.

"You all right?" Raoul asked, lifting his hand to ruffle Ducky's hair. Emma was quiet, thinking that Raoul was talking to Ducky, but she looked at him curiously when the boy didn't answer. "I meant you," he added.

"Oh," Emma said in surprise. "I…yes. I think so."

Raoul nodded, taking a look around and nodding towards one of the far tables. "Go sit," he said. "I'll be there in a minute. Caddock, let go of Emma." Ducky clung tightly to Emma with a slight whine of distress.

"It's all right," Emma said, shifting Ducky up on her hip. "Unless he's meant to be walking, of course. But I don't mind."

"Hmm," Raoul hummed. "I suppose an hour of being coddled would be fine…" Ducky giggled happily, burying his face back into Emma's neck and shoving a few of his fingers into his mouth. Raoul sighed and shook his head. "One day I'll get him to stop doing that. Go relax; Fenrir could possibly be in a mood when he gets here."

Raoul was quiet when he joined Emma and Ducky at their table. He set down a bottle of Butterbeer for Emma, a glass of milk for Ducky, who took it immediately, and then sat down heavily with a beer for himself. Emma studied Raoul for a long moment, taking a quick drink of her Butterbeer and then helping Ducky keep from spilling his milk. The boy refused to leave her lap, and Emma didn't mind, but he was drinking his milk with such vigor she feared it would spill. She shifted her gaze from Ducky to Raoul, curious. From what she knew of the Raoul, he was quiet, but he seemed more silent than usual, his attention elsewhere.

"What happened back there?" Emma asked.

It took Raoul a long moment before he met Emma's gaze, setting his beer down. "You're trainable," Raoul said. "You've got a long way to go, but you can be trained."

"I'm trainable? Like a dog?"

"He wasn't sure if you had started to accept your reality," Raoul replied. "You can't learn to work with Soleil if you haven't accepted it. He does it with all new wolves when they're brought into the pack, but he's yet to try it with you."

"So today was all a test?"

"In a way, yes."

"But what happened? I didn't –"

"Feel like yourself?" Raoul asked, nodding in understanding at Emma's sheepish shrug in response. "Because you weren't. Not entirely, at least. You were still you, but Fenrir always manages to bring out the deepest and darkest thoughts someone has."

Emma's brow furrowed as she tried to understand what Raoul was trying to say. Ducky handed her his glass, and she set it on the table. The boy yawned, settling himself against Emma with a content sigh.

"He was helping," Ducky murmured before shoving his fingers back in his mouth. He tilted his head up to watch Emma, eyes wide with his curiosity.

"He was…helping?" Emma questioned.

Raoul sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Fenrir has a way with being able to…influence… younger wolves to his will," he said. When Emma gave him a funny look, he sighed again and took a quick drink of his beer. "When a wolf has sired another, they need a way to keep control of, well, for lack of better word, their pups. It's a passive way of keeping the other wolf safe, but I'm sure your father has told you of this already."

"He has," Emma frowned. Remus had used his influence a few times to keep her level, but the idea that Fenrir could do the same was terrifying. It was the very possibility that they were hoping to avoid, but they weren't so lucky. "But we didn't think that Fen would be able to have any sort of control."

"Well, it's hit or miss," Raoul confessed. "We weren't sure either, but right now, your mind is very much moldable like a new wolf's. Add in the fact you're technically a descendent from Fenrir's line –"

"And my relationship with Fenrir overall…It makes things a little easier for him."

"But your attention can be broken," he pointed out. "Which means you can fight his influence and means you work with Soleil a little more than you thought. That's a good thing and will make things just a little bit easier for you. No less difficult, of course, but easier. One day he won't influence you in such a way, and you'll have to rely on Soleil entirely." Raoul gave another slight shrug. "He figured he would have fun with it."

"Which means he plans to help me figure out how to work with her more?"

"Fenrir would never let you fully integrate with the pack if you didn't, but I'm sure you knew that already."

Emma nodded slowly, taking another drink of her Butterbeer. She felt strange, unsure of whether she could trust herself. It was terrifying that Fenrir could get into her very thoughts and make her think the things that she did. She wasn't fond of Fergus or Balin, but other than blasting either werewolf off their feet, she didn't want to hurt them. Especially not to the degree that Fenrir was insisting on.

She felt betrayed by herself again – Soleil had practically rolled on her back, baring her neck to let Fenrir in. It went against everything she knew about herself, but Raoul said that Fenrir could bring out the worst thoughts in someone. The very idea she could be like Fenrir had crossed her mind many times, but what did that really mean? Did it mean that secretly that's who she truly was inside? She wasn't sure if she would ever get an answer.

"How did Fenrir know I was going to be here?" Emma asked.

"He didn't," Raoul replied. "He knew that the Hogsmeade trip was today and thought it would be a good idea to have some of the teenagers come out. They're not often around others their age and need to learn how to be around others."

"Is Boris here?" Emma asked, slightly hopeful at the idea.

"No," Raoul replied, "he decided to stay back today."

"And does Fenrir do this frequently? Bring the teenagers out?"

"Not really," Raoul admitted. "It's a rare treat."

"Then how did I get caught up in this?"

"One of the girls spotted you and told Fenrir."

"Oh."

"If it's of any consolation, the boys tried to keep them from saying a word. It was just terrible timing."

Raoul gave Emma a sympathetic smile as he took a drink of his beer. Emma was sure that he remembered the less than enthused reaction the teenage girls from the packs gave her. The fact they were in the village at all gave Emma pause, but she wasn't surprised they would go to Fenrir at all. They were clearly going to be an issue in the future.

"Raoul, can I trust you?" Emma blurted out suddenly.

"My loyalty is to whomever I serve," Raoul said with a shrug. "That means you and Fenrir."

"But can I trust you?"

"If you're worried that whatever we talk about will get to Fenrir, I can assure you that it won't," Raoul replied. He ran a finger along the rim of his bottle. "What we discuss will stay between us in the same way that what Fenrir and I discuss stays between him and me. Caddock knows better than to say a word to anyone. If he accidentally slips…well, he's got a very active imagination."

"And I'm to believe that blindly?"

"An honest wolf's loyalty never wavers. Besides, it's often safer not being at the top," Raoul said. "I have far too much to lose."

Emma searched Raoul's eyes for a moment, grimacing slightly as Ducky's hold on her tightened considerably. She looked down at Ducky and smiled gently at the small boy who was still staring up at her. For such a small thing, he was incredibly strong, and Emma's throat tightened painfully. Children like Ducky were why she wanted to do so much more…

"He's missed you, you know," Raoul said softly, pulling Emma's gaze away from the boy on her lap. "Asks about you about three times a day. I'm sure he'll be annoying everyone in the pack for the next few weeks just because he's seen you. He was supposed to stay away, but obviously, he couldn't resist."

"I've missed him, too," Emma said, her smile widening at Ducky's shy giggles as she tickled his sides. She held Ducky a little tighter, resting her cheek on top of his head as she searched Raoul's face. There was something different about the stoic werewolf as he watched Ducky. The expression on his face was familiar, but Emma was struggling to put together what it was.

"He knows," Raoul said, lifting his gaze to meet Emma's. "Fenrir. About you and Greyson."

Emma was sure that she looked like a deer caught in headlights, but she had no idea what to say. Her mouth went dry, and it felt as though the already chilly pub's temperature dropped considerably. What was she supposed to do with that information?

"It wasn't anything that you did if you were wondering," Raoul continued. "You've done a decent job of covering your tracks. I'd dare to say Fenrir's impressed in that regard. The wrong person found out and told him."

"Fen's impressed?" Emma squeaked out in surprise.

"Mostly that you kept it hidden for as long as you have and that no one else has found out the truth," Raoul shrugged, lifting his glass to his lips and taking a drink of his beer. "Not many can keep Fenrir in the dark for so long."

"Which means he's cross."

Raoul tilted his head from side to side with a hum. "He still doesn't have firm proof, and he's not entirely sure if he can believe the person who told him," Raoul finally said. "Until then…well, I'd say it's just a rumor. After all, Greyson doesn't exactly exist either, does he? Or at least that's what the story is. Werewolves love a good urban legend, and I dare say Greyson is the biggest one of all. I don't really believe it –" Raoul's expression seemed thoughtful, his tone much more conspiratorial than before "– but if it were to be true, well…I don't think you're the one who has to worry."

Raoul's gaze suddenly dropped to Ducky again, and that familiar expression was on his face again. Emma searched his face for a few moments longer before it hit her. Remus wore the same look when he looked at her – one of pride and one of fear. There was more to Raoul than met the eye, and she needed to take a chance.

"Fergus and Balin – can I trust them?" Emma asked.

"Fergus is mostly all bark, no bite, but he can be a threat," Raoul said slowly. "Balin, on the other hand…"

"And the others?"

"You have a friend in Killian and Eirwyn. And me, for that matter," Raoul added, glancing pointedly at Ducky. "He doesn't like just anyone. And I admit I would like to see a day where he can get an education…"

"I'm not sure that I made a good impression on Liekos or Rendell."

"They do their own thing for the most part. I don't think any of us have a decent read on them, but there's been nothing to say they're an issue."

"Aiden?"

"Killian will sway him."

"And Olcan?"

"Firmly in the middle. He goes where he thinks it's safest," Raoul replied. "But between you and me, I'd say he's in your court."

A companionable silence fell between the two. Emma was more than content to sip on her Butterbeer and let Ducky drift off. His hair was soft beneath her fingers, and Emma wondered just how often someone ran their fingers through his hair. She had no doubt that Raoul did it for his adopted son, but did anyone else? Emma wasn't entirely sure.

It felt like ages before Fenrir finally joined them. Ducky was completely asleep, Emma was half-finished with her Butterbeer, and Raoul was on his second beer. The moment Fenrir stepped into the pub, Raoul was up on his feet and pulling Ducky out of Emma's arms. She immediately lamented the loss of the boy as he was almost like a safety blanket. Emma had no opportunity to react as Fenrir tugged Emma up from her seat, his gaze searching and analytical. She looked curiously at the box that he tossed on the table and then flinched when his hand came up to her neck.

"Does it hurt?" Fenrir asked, his fingers brushing against the spots where Balin's fingers dug into Emma's skin.

"It's fine," Emma muttered, swatting Fenrir's hand away. Fenrir's lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn't react any further to Emma's actions. So far, he wasn't acting like Emma expected, back to the more reverent and gentler version of the man that left her confused.

"He wasn't meant to leave any marks," Fenrir growled.

"Well, it's a bloody good thing I'm a werewolf, isn't it? The marks'll disappear in about a day or two," Emma said. Fenrir's eyebrows raised, but he only reached over for the box on the table and shoved it in Emma's hands. "What's this?" she questioned.

"A Christmas gift for you," Fenrir said pointedly. "Open it."

Emma frowned up at Fenrir, not sure that she liked dealing with an almost "normal" Fenrir again, and looked over at Raoul. Ducky had himself wrapped up against his father just like he had been against Emma. The boy was clearly exhausted, and Emma wondered who exactly he was with and who he had escaped. She sighed, looking down at the box in her hands and setting it down so she could open it properly. Refusing a gift from Fenrir wouldn't be a good idea

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise when she was met with what appeared to be a peacoat made of deep red wool. She brushed her fingers over the fabric, startled that it felt so warm to touch. The wool was surprisingly soft, perfect for keeping away her usual agitation after a full moon. Emma was so used to the overbearing version of Fenrir that she wasn't entirely sure what to make of the gift.

She very carefully pulled it out of the box to look at the coat a little closer. It was very well made and looked to be on the expensive side; Fenrir never seemed to care much about the cost of things. Emma had no doubt that the strong warming charm added to the coat was of Fenrir's doing. She turned her head to look at Fenrir, opening her mouth to say something, but he nodded pointedly down to the coat she wore and reached for the one in her hand. Emma handed Fenrir the coat and shrugged out of the one she wore with a sigh, draping it over the chair beside her.

"This feels very Little Red Riding Hood, Fen," Emma said as she turned and allowed Fenrir to help her into the coat. She wasn't sure why she was surprised when the coat fit perfectly and wondered how Fenrir had any fashion sense at all. He only wore the same few things that barely fit that it was a wonder he could manage to find something perfect for her. "My, what big teeth you have," she added jokingly.

"The better to eat you with, my dear," Fenrir chuckled. Emma's stomach dropped as a sudden memory brought itself forward. How many times had Fenrir read her that exact story growing up with an amused smirk on his face?

"Thank you," Emma said quietly, trying to ignore Fenrir's playful tone. "It fits perfect." She smoothed out the front of the coat, shoving her hands in the pockets and biting back her grin at how warm they were. It was like she was bundled up in a warm blanket, and she suddenly felt very out of place in the grungy pub with her new coat. "I, uhm…I guess you finally want your coat back," Emma said.

"It's yours," Fenrir said, lifting the coat off the chair, finding Emma's wand in one of the inside pockets, and handing it to her.

Emma watched as he folded the coat up and placed it in the box as she tucked her wand away. She wasn't used to keeping her wand with her, but Fenrir obviously didn't deem her a threat that day. Once more unsure of what to do, Emma crossed her arms and waited for some indication from either werewolf on the next move. Fenrir gave Raoul a nod, and Emma watched helplessly as her only possible defense between herself and Fenrir left. She would have felt much better just having Ducky around if she could; she wasn't sure what Fenrir's actual mood was.

It had been months since Emma felt completely cowed by Fenrir's piercing gaze, but she curled in on herself. There were a million things she wanted to do – she wanted to yell at him, she wanted to run away, she wanted to –

"There's a lot we need to talk about, little wolf," Fenrir said, cupping Emma's jaw and lifting her face to look at him. Emma wasn't sure that she liked that she had yet another nickname, but at least there was no hint of malice in his voice. Fenrir studied Emma for a moment longer and bent down to kiss her forehead before releasing her face. "But not today," he said gently.

Emma was sure that Fenrir was going to question her, but he seemed dismissive. She tilted her head slightly with curiosity, but he only continued to watch her, the Fenrir from back in the alley replaced with someone more familiar. Emma was about to say something, but Fenrir picked the box off the table and shoved it back in her hands. She gave Fenrir a questioning look, but he shook his head.

"Go," Fenrir finally said, waving Emma off as he sat down at the table. "But don't you dare think of not saying a word to me next month about the next trip in. You know damn well what our deal was, and I will not tolerate your behavior. You know better."

Being scolded by Fenrir wasn't high up on Emma's list of things to deal with, but she wasn't about to argue the point. Whether he was benevolent because of the holidays or biding his time, it didn't seem like a good idea to test Fenrir. She nodded and tucked the box under her arm, pulling her lip between her teeth and gnawing it for a moment.

"Happy Christmas, Fen," Emma said, glancing down at her coat. "And thank you for the coat." She waited a moment for Fenrir to say something, and when he didn't, she turned around to leave.

"Emma," Fenrir called after her, his voice gruffer than before. Emma cringed inwardly and turned around, looking at Fenrir expectantly. "You know there's no point in trying to hide the truth from me."

Emma frowned slightly, adjusting the box under her arm. She should have known that Fenrir wouldn't let her leave without saying something himself. Raoul had said already that Fenrir already knew, but Emma knew better than to admit it outright. She sucked in a deep breath, straightening herself up as much as she could.

"Who said I was hiding a thing?" Emma asked. Fenrir's eyebrows shot up with surprise, but he remained silent. Emma cast Fenrir one more final look and exited the pub. She would worry about what to do about Fenrir the next month; there were more important things like the Yule Ball to worry about.

a/n: obligatory - hi, hello. this was another one that took forever. my boyfriend is very distracting hahahaha.

anyway, also disclaimer that I kind of hate this chapter near the end, buuutttt I've been yelled at and told you'll all love it. Hopefully updates will be more frequent. Yule Ball chapter tho...HEEEHHHH. I know a lot of you have been looking forward to, well...specific scenes. You may or may not get them. Haven't decided yet, but we'll see where the writing gooooeeessss.

Anyway, love you all. Late night readers, for the love of literally everything, SLEEP. Afternoon readers - hi, I love you. Morning readers, well good morning to youu~

Hi Lu! I'm so sorry that I didn't reply to your last review from 53! Thank you so much and I am absolutely trying to write something original from this series. I have a rough outline, but we'll see! I think once year four is finally complete I'll take the time to really dig into it and see what I can come up with. Thank you so much and I hope all is well!

Kezz - thank you so much for reading and enjoying the fic! :D