"So, you're telling me that you played Quidditch with the Viktor Krum? Not some sort of fake Viktor Krum, but the Viktor Krum – the one who played with in the Quidditch World Cup?"

"Yes. And it was glorious."

"Do I need to be worried?"

"Don't be stupid; I've got my own Quidditch star. Besides, he's not that good."

Emma's eyes were practically twinkling as she looked over at Greyson from the opposite end of the couch. She was in the worst amount of pain she had ever been in during a full moon, but it didn't stop her from teasing Greyson happily. Emma was about to comment about how Viktor had a girlfriend already, but a vicious muscle spasm swept through her body like lightning. A concerned look crossed Greyson's face, but he didn't comment.

With a small whimper, Emma crossed the length of the couch and let Greyson pull her into his side so that she could get comfortable. She settled herself in the space between the back of the sofa and Greyson's body, resting her head on his chest and throwing an arm over his stomach.

"I'm sorry," she murmured.

"Don't be," Greyson said, kissing the top of her head. "I'm surprised that you've even bothered to stay up this long."

"Well, who else is supposed to wish you happy birthday, first?"

"Considering there is no one here to give me birthday wishes right now, I think it would be all right if you just slept."

"Doesn't mean a wayward House Elf won't come by and beat me to it," Emma said, poking Greyson's ribs and smiling sleepily as he squirmed as she found a ticklish spot. "I'm determined."

"You're stubborn."

"Same difference."

Greyson carefully reached over to pull the blanket draped over the back of the couch over top of them. Emma knew that he wanted to say something but also knew he would be careful with his words.

"It's nice that we're on our own again," Greyson said quietly. "Wasn't sure that I could handle another night stuck with Pomfrey."

"She means well," Emma yawned, lifting her head from Greyson's chest to waggle her eyebrows at him. "Even if she keeps us from having some fun."

"Oh my God, Emma," Greyson said, putting a hand on Emma's head to push it back to his chest and shaking his head. "Only you."

"Couldn't resist," Emma said with a shaky breath. "If I don't find some sort of humor, then I might as well be dead."

"Emma –"

"Figuratively, not literally," Emma huffed, turning her head to lick Greyson's palm and snickering at his yelp of disgust. "You all take me too seriously. Besides, I've got too much to do before offing myself."

"Which really isn't any better to say," Greyson said, sighing when he couldn't figure out where to wipe his hand clean. "Did you really have to lick me?"

"That's not the only thing I want to lick –"

"Emma!"

"Soleil."

"My God, you are going to be the death of me."

Emma sighed, letting herself settle against Greyson instead of responding. How could she really respond to that? With an "Oh, yes, by the way, ran into your dad," and then follow it up with an "I thiiinkkk we might have a bit of a problem? Haha, yes again" And then she would have to somehow tell him that there was a possibility that she wouldn't be the death of him? She couldn't; she hadn't even said anything about what happened after the Yule Ball to anyone. How could she even explain that when she didn't have much of an explanation herself?

The only good thing was that Fenrir hadn't done a thing, but as far as she knew, everyone was somewhere safe during the full moon. No one would be in danger of dealing with a transformed werewolf, which meant Fenrir's usual methods wouldn't work.

"You're shivering," Greyson said after a while. "Cold? Or in pain?"

"Pain," Emma muttered, nuzzling her face against Greyson's shoulder as she shifted herself to get more comfortable. "It's not too bad – you help remember?"

"Yes, but not the same anymore; you said it yourself last time. Do you want to try a bath?"

It didn't take Emma long to nod in response, begrudgingly allowing Greyson to slip out from underneath her. Having a private room afforded her luxuries that the hospital wing didn't – namely, having a nice full-sized bath to sink into. Emma had been startled to find that Greyson's presence didn't seem to help her as much as it used to, not in the same way an actual werewolf would. The bath had helped to relieve the aches in her muscles and warm up her overly stiff joints. Emma hadn't gotten up the nerve to write to Newt about it, but she wasn't sure that she wanted an answer to begin with.

Halfway into her exhaustion-induced haze, Greyson returned, gently pulling Emma up from the couch. He slipped an arm around her shoulders, letting her lean against him heavily as they walked. Emma rolled her eyes when Greyson promptly turned around to let her undress, not entirely wanting to leave in case she fell; it wouldn't have been the first time she had toppled over. She carefully stepped into the tub, closing her eyes in relief at the heat steaming over top of the fragrant bubbles.

"This is wonderful," Emma said, sinking in so that her face was just above the thick cloud of bubbles in the tub. "Thank you."

"I'll leave you alone for a bit," Greyson said, turning to leave only to be stopped by Emma reaching out and snatching his hand.

"Grey, there hasn't been a single part of me you haven't seen," Emma said pointedly. "And I'm quite covered in bubbles. No chance in seeing a single part of me, and you left me alone last time. It was a bit lonely."

"And when the bubbles have gone?"

"You've still seen it all. Just sit."

Greyson looked unsure of himself for a moment, eyes narrowing slightly. "Who's talking this time? Soleil?"

"Emma is talking," Emma said with a sigh. "Soleil currently wants to splash around like a puppy. Your girlfriend would just very much like to have her boyfriend with her while she's in agonizing misery."

Greyson didn't need telling twice. He sat down on the floor next to the tub, resting his back against the wall of the tall bath. Greyson kept his legs stretched out for a moment before pulling his knees to his chest, turning his head just enough to look at Emma.

Emma was quiet, turning herself on her side to look at Greyson. She dropped an arm over the edge of the tub and smiled when Greyson took it, lifting it to his lips. He gave her a soft smile, his thumb brushing her knuckles, and Emma felt her resolve break. Emma had sworn that she wouldn't say anything to anyone about what had happened, but she couldn't keep it a secret forever. Especially not when Greyson was being wonderful. What kind of girlfriend was she keeping things from him and for so long?

"Grey, there's something I need to tell you," Emma whispered, resting her chin on the edge of the bath. "I probably should have told you ages ago…."

"Is…is everything all right?" Greyson asked, a flicker of worry crossing his face. "You're not about to…break up with me for some reason, are you?"

"What?" Emma asked in surprise. "Absolutely not," she huffed, giving Greyson a look. "I think I'm the one who needs to be more worried that you'll break up with me, though."

"Why?"

Emma hesitated for a moment before launching into her explanation of everything she had kept secret for weeks. She grimaced each time Greyson would grow paler and paler. Guilt made her stomach plummet at the blank expression on his face when she mentioned they were watched. He kept his gaze focused elsewhere the longer Emma talked. When Emma finally finished telling him everything that happened, Greyson let out a slow breath.

"So, what are we going to do?" Greyson eventually asked.

"What?" Emma sat up a little in the bath, looking at Greyson in confusion. "We aren't doing anything."

"Emma, you can't seriously think that you're doing all of this on your own again."

"Grey, there's nothing that we can do," Emma huffed. "This is something that I have to do on my own."

"With my dad knowing everything? I think not."

"But you can't get hurt!"

"My entire existence has been in danger since the day I was born, apparently," Greyson said firmly. "I don't think it matters at this point."

Emma fell silent, glaring at Greyson as she slipped further into the bath. The water was just starting to cool, and the bubbles were slowly beginning to disappear. She wanted to brood in the bath for much longer, but the water seemed to decide she was taking too much time.

"I don't know," Emma sighed. "Every time I have an idea, I don't. I feel like I'm running out of options."

"With what?"

"With making sure I stay alive. I know I'm safe here…mostly, at least. But I worry what'll happen later on – and not just with me. Like, will the world find out I'm a Black? Will Elle be all right? Can I keep everyone safe?"

"Elle should be fine. And it's not your job to keep anyone safe – just yourself."

"Elle is a very convicted werewolf. What she was doing was seen equally as awful as the things…."

"You can call him my dad, you know. I can't change that."

"Feels weird."

"Doesn't change the truth."

Emma wrinkled her nose as she looked up at Greyson. "Still feels weird, truth or not," she muttered. She refrained from mentioning that Fenrir had practically raised her – they had beaten that point into the ground many times. "But if the world knows that I'm a Black…it's been made very clear to me that it'll be a problem. And too many people know as it is."

Greyson sighed, dipping a finger into the bath to check the temperature. "Do you want to get out?" he asked. "Or would you rather I heat the water up?"

"Should just get out," Emma muttered, stretching. "What time is it?"

"It's, ah," Greyson looked down at his watch and turned it around to show Emma. "Past midnight."

"Happy birthday, Grey," Emma whispered. "Sorry that you're stuck with me."

"As if I'd want to be anywhere else right now."

The faintest of smiles crossed Emma's face, but it fell quickly. "Your gift, though…it was ruined," Emma muttered. She hadn't had the time to get the books replaced, and no amount of the repairing charm could fully fix the pages. Emma was sure other charms would've been helpful to use, but she didn't get a chance to research and didn't ask.

"It's all right," Greyson said, leaning in to give Emma a chaste kiss and standing up. "Just being with you is more than enough. Now let's get you out of there and into something warm."

In all of her years of existence, Emma had no idea what she did to deserve the people she did. She had wonderful parents, had a lovely boyfriend, and incredible friends. On the other hand, she had to deal with the worst of the worst, but she chose to ignore that as much as she possibly could. Despite the full moon, the short time she got to spend with Greyson on his birthday wasn't terrible. Even better, Hogwarts was on its half-term break, allowing Emma to recover.

Each night was spent in the common room working with Cedric to figure out what he was doing for the second task. The Hufflepuffs gathered in massive groups, pouring through books in a debate on what to do. Only so many spells or objects could help someone breathe underwater outside of becoming an Animagus and hoping you were a sea creature.

"A Bubble-Head Charm should be more than enough," Cedric decided a few days before the second task. "It only needs to last an hour. I think I can manage that much."

Everyone knew that Cedric was clever enough to pull it off, but it didn't make them any less worried that something would go wrong. The charm was simple, but it was tricky if the caster's concentration was broken. They were all relying on Cedric having a steady mindset to find whatever he was meant to find in the lake during the second task.

Just like before the first task, the energy in the common room was infectious the day before the second task was set to take place. Emma was reading through the book on infectious diseases Moody had given her, trying to figure out exactly why he wanted her to have it. The rest of the common room seemed to be gearing up for the party they were sure to have the next day. The fourth and fifth year girls seemed dead-set on decorating, while most of the boys in the older years were figuring out the food and drink situation. Some of the younger students lingered, prepared to offer their services of running to the kitchen to retrieve items they would need.

Emma only shook her head as she watched Finley practically bouncing between all groups, unsure of where to stay. The small girl looked ready to join Emma, but Emma waved in response and gestured for her to continue doing what she was doing. Finley was thriving in Hufflepuff, and she was glad that the small girl was enjoying her time at Hogwarts. Emma was about to turn her attention back to the book in front of her, grimacing slightly at the pictures that awaited her, when she heard someone call her name.

"Oi Emma!" Caspian was practically cutting through the crowds of Hufflepuffs and beelining in her direction. "There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you!"

"I've been here the entire time, Cas," Emma said, resting her head on her hand and looking at Caspian in exasperation. He looked drained and slightly concerned. "What do you want?"

"I was told by Sprout that you're needed at McGonagall's. And I'm supposed to make sure that you get there."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"You – McGonagall's. Now."

"But why?"

"No idea, but it seemed important," Caspian said, grabbing Emma's book and closing it for her. "And we need to go now. Don't worry about your things; I'll make sure that it gets put away for you."

"I…okay," Emma said, startled by the sudden turn of events. She stood up quickly, reluctantly following Caspian out of the dorms and to McGonagall's office. "You really don't know what's going on?"

"No," Caspian said. "I thought you might know, especially because of everything going on."

"You mean with my case?"

"Well, that's what I was thinking."

"But you don't know?"

"Not really. There are a lot of people from the Ministry, though."

"With McGonagall?"

"There were, yeah. And if McGonagall wants you and not Sprout…."

Emma felt a sinking feeling in her stomach at the thought. Had something terrible happened, and that's why she had to go to McGonagall? Sprout covered a lot, but students often went to McGonagall and very rarely Dumbledore if anything more serious were to occur. She couldn't imagine something going wrong, but Emma gave her pawprint charm a squeeze. When Emma felt the returning warmth, she let out a small sigh – everything had to be okay if Remus just returned their code for "I love you."

She felt only slightly better as they stood outside of McGonagall's office. Before Emma could say something else, Caspian had already knocked on the door, and a very frazzled McGonagall whipped the door open.

"Oh, you're here," she said. She looked over at Caspian, giving him a tight smile. "Thank you very much, Mr. Moon. I'm afraid you're no longer needed and may return to your dormitory. Come in, Miss Lupin. There's much to discuss." McGonagall quickly pulled Emma into the room and had the door shut before she could tell Caspian goodbye.

Emma was startled by the sudden abruptness of the situation, and the worry that had started to melt away flared up. There were far more people in McGonagall's office than she expected.

Groups of people were gathered around the room, talking in hushed tones. Dumbledore stood in a small group with Snape, Moody, Pomfrey, and what looked to be Ludo Bagman and Crouch. Several other Ministry workers that she didn't know were milling about in groups, some talking to Madam Maxime and Karkaroff. Emma's search around the room paused when she spotted Newt, but that wasn't what confused her most – it was the fact her grandfather was talking to him. She settled on looking at Crouch for a moment, thinking about what Moody said, and then looked at who was sitting in front of McGonagall's desk. Ron and Hermione were sitting and talking to each other, looking equally confused as she was, and Emma frowned when she spotted Fleur's little sister. Why were they all there?

Emma turned her attention back over to Lyall, resisting McGonagall pushing her towards the empty chair in front of her desk. The moment Lyall saw her, his face was grim, but he opened his arms for her. McGonagall let out a sigh when Emma escaped her to run over to her grandfather.

"Grandpa, what's going on?" Emma asked as she hugged Lyall tightly.

"Not my job to say, unfortunately," Lyall muttered, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of Emma's head. "I'm just here to make sure that things go smoothly tomorrow with Newt. And I guarantee your father is not going to be too pleased when he finds out."

"What do you mean?" Emma asked, tilting her head up to look at Lyall, but he shook his head in response. He gently pushed her over to the chair McGonagall tried to wrangle her towards, and Emma went reluctantly. She wanted to ask more questions, but she didn't think he would give many more answers. Emma was sat between Hermione and Gabrielle, with Ron sitting on the other side of Hermione. A slight hush seemed to fall in the room once Emma sat down and Dumbledore approached Bagman and Crouch.

"I'm sorry, Professor, but why exactly are we here?" Hermione asked, shifting nervously in her seat. "We're meant to…" she trailed off, looking over at Ron and then at the other people in the room. "We were helping Harry with homework."

Emma snorted, knowing full well that the two had to have been helping Harry with the second task. Hermione shot her a look, and Emma pulled her lips in between her teeth and cleared her throat, trying to set her face into a neutral expression.

"Well, the four of you are an essential component to tomorrow's event," Dumbledore said in response. "I'm sure it's no secret that our champions have been working hard on discovering the truth behind their riddles." Dumbledore seemed to give Emma, Ron, and Hermione knowing looks with his twinkling blue eyes. "However, I'll allow Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch to explain further."

"Well, simply put, you lot are what our champions have to find!" Bagman said a bit too excitedly for Emma's liking. Gabrielle seemed to shrink in on herself, and Emma, Hermione, and Ron looked at each other in alarm. Emma knew that Bagman was eccentric, but there was no way that he could be serious.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said, sitting up straighter. "We're meant to be the ones that the champions are meant to find? So we're going to be –"

"In the lake in an enchanted sleep," Crouch said, glancing over at Emma almost nervously. "You will be monitored heavily and none the wiser to what's going on. The enchantment will break the very moment you're above the surface." Crouch's eyes were back on Emma, and she sunk down in her chair, not liking the look he was giving her.

"The champions have their hour to find you lot and get you back out safely," Bagman continued.

"But, of course, none of you are in any real danger," Dumbledore clarified. "The point of the riddle was to give a sense of urgency. You will all be perfectly safe in the lake and will not be harmed."

The four students jumped when Moody suddenly spoke up.

"Don't look at Lupin that way, Crouch," Moody growled, both eyes focused on Crouch in a steady glare. "Can't change her now even if you tried."

"Well, that's part of the problem," Crouch said, turning back to look at Moody. "Is that we can't change her."

"I can assure you that Emma's lycanthropy poses no risk to the event provided extra precautions are taken," Newt said, glancing over at Snape. Emma hadn't noticed the goblet in his hand, and she frowned at the realization of what it had to be. Several vials of what looked like Dreamless Sleep sat on McGonagall's desk, but nothing seemed more important than the goblet in Snape's hand.

"Drink this now, Lupin," Snape said, approaching quickly. He held the somewhat smoking goblet out for Emma to take, and she frowned as she took it. There were very few potions that had such a distinct smoke pattern.

Emma stared down at the dose of Wolfsbane Potion in front of her, her face twisting in disgust at the scent that hit her nose. How had she never realized just how terribly the potion smelled while making it? The smell made her stomach turn, and she glared at the goblet now in her hand. Why did Newt have to mention her lycanthropy in a room so full of people? It wasn't entirely a secret, not any longer, but it was still far too many people who knew. She could feel Ron and Hermione's eyes practically boring into her skull in question. After spending so much time denying the true nature of her condition, she wasn't going to be able to any longer.

"But is it okay for me to take it outside the full? Is it really going to do anything?" Emma questioned.

"The point is to subdue Soleil just enough that she won't bring you any harm," Newt explained lightly from where he stood. He hesitated for a moment, looking unsure when he saw the look on Emma's face. "The potion is severely diluted. We just want to make sure that you don't wake up while in the lake, and the fear is that Soleil will make that difficult."

"So, this is just another experiment?" Emma asked. She glanced over at Ron and Hermione, grimacing when she saw the further curious looks on their face. The mention of Soleil seemed to click easily in Hermione's mind, and she whispered something to Ron who said "oh" quietly. "No one knows? So, then it shouldn't be me."

"Well, now that you're here, we can't let you leave," Crouch said sharply, crossing his arms and looking undignified as he did so. The usually stoic man seemed off-put, but Emma wasn't sure if it was because of her or something else. "You know what the champions are meant to be retrieving, and we're not in the habit of wiping memories unless absolutely necessary."

"Then why can't I just stay here until after the second task starts? Wouldn't that be safer? I think Cho would be a much better candidate – use her instead!"

"No can do, Lupin," said Bagman, smiling brightly. "It was determined that you would be who Mr. Diggory would miss most."

"Don't we get a say in this?" Emma asked. She couldn't believe what was happening. They thought that she would be what Cedric would miss most and not his girlfriend? It seemed ridiculous for her to hear, and she couldn't fathom it. "I don't really see how any of this is fair. What if we don't want to be a part of this?"

"Well, I'm doing it," Ron said resolutely, sitting up straight.

"As am I," Hermione said, shooting Ron a look. Gabrielle looked at Maxime with uncertainty. It appeared that she, just like Emma, wasn't given much choice in the matter.

"But I didn't even know why I was brought here!" Emma said. "I don't really want to do this."

"You have no choice in the matter," Crouch said, emphasizing each word slowly. "If I had my say in the matter…."

Emma looked between everyone in the room, mouth opening and closing several times. It seemed like everyone was looking at her expectantly, and Emma felt torn. No one seemed any more pleased about her being there.

She looked over at Lyall, needing some sort of assistance in the matter. He sighed, casting a look around the room before joining Emma. Lyall stood beside her, putting an arm around her shoulders and pulling her against his side. Emma glared at the goblet in her hand, glad that the others seemed to return to their conversations. Pomfrey was busy talking to Ron and Hermione in hushed tones while Madame Maxime spoke to Gabrielle.

"Does Daddy know?" Emma asked Lyall quietly.

"No, he doesn't," Lyall replied. "Had I known earlier what exactly was happening…well, you wouldn't be a part of this at all. I wasn't told until you stepped into the room, but it appeared that neither were you. I was under the impression Newt was here because of the merfolk's involvement; to help me with it. Wasn't aware it was because of you."

"I don't want to do this."

"I know. I don't want you to either," Lyall said, brushing his knuckles against Emma's cheek. "But there's no choice. Even if someone was willing to modify your memory, we don't want to take that chance with you and risk something going wrong."

"Funny how I once again have no choice in things," Emma said bitterly, looking over at Crouch and Bagman talking to Dumbledore. Crouch looked over at her again, and Emma had to stop her lip from curling in aggravation. "And they don't even know if this is going to work at all…."

"I'm going to be here and make sure nothing happens to you," Lyall said gently. "Nothing is going to happen. You're going to be safe."

Emma looked up at Lyall and then back to the goblet in her hand. She didn't like her situation, but it didn't seem she had much choice. With a sigh, Emma lifted the goblet to her lips and took a drink. Emma wished that she didn't.

She felt ill the moment she swallowed the potion, and she leaned heavily against her grandfather. Despite being diluted, Emma didn't think taking the Wolfsbane Potion was a good idea. Soleil was practically thrashing about in her mind, angry that she would do such a thing until she slowly settled down, subdued. A part of her felt bad that the others didn't have their parents or anyone else for support, but she didn't care that much. It was infinitely more dangerous for her than it was for the others. When Lyall lifted her up and deposited her on one of the cots that she hadn't noticed in the room, she had barely any fight left in her.

She watched with bleary eyes as the others slowly made their way to their cots and were handed goblets. Emma tried to sit up, but her stomach cramped painfully at the movement, and she let out a soft whine. Lyall looked over his shoulder to shoot someone a look, but Emma wasn't sure who. She could only curl up with tears in her eyes at how awful she felt.

Didn't any of the others realize that Wolfsbane itself was poisonous and the potion was even worse? While the logic behind giving her the potion seemed sound, the reality of it was awful. Her stomach twisted and turned, her muscles tensing up. Was she even going to survive to make it out to the lake? Pomfrey watched her closely, and the grim look on her face had Emma even more worried, leading to Soleil wanting to rear her head and howl.

"Here, sweetheart," Lyall said, helping Emma sit up a little. She could see the guilt etched into his face, the shame-filled expression that he gave the others. He didn't look at all thrilled to be assisting in such a matter, and Emma wondered if Lyall was reminded of having to help Remus after the full moon.

"It hurts," Emma murmured weakly. Lyall hesitated for a moment before reaching back to take the goblet that was handed to him.

"I know," Lyall said gently. "But this is Dreamless Sleep. Just take this, and you won't have to worry about it. You'll get the best sleep you've had in a while, and I'll be there when you're out of the lake."

Emma looked just past her grandfather, watching as the others took their potions with relative ease. Leave it to the werewolf to be the one to struggle, she thought bitterly to herself. She watched for a few moments longer as Gabrielle slipped into her enchanted sleep first, with Dumbledore and the Ministry workers approaching the girl. Next was Ron, who slung his potion back quickly and settled into the pillows, then Hermione, who seemed uncertain before drinking the potion as well.

With a small nod, Emma allowed Lyall to tip the potion into her mouth. She swallowed the thick and sweet potion, her face twisting at the taste – it somehow tasted much stronger than ever before. Sleep started to overtake her before her grandfather could have her lowered back comfortably to the mattress. Rather than focusing on something familiar, Emma found herself trying to fight off the impending darkness a little longer. Her eyes scanned the room, taking in the silent commotion, not wanting to let go of her consciousness just yet. She felt her eyes start to droop, all conscious thought slipping away, but her attention was suddenly drawn to Moody.

Emma's eyes found Moody's, but…he didn't seem like Moody. His expression was almost pained as he looked at her. His magical eye swiveled about, but his normal eye stayed locked on hers. Emma knew she didn't have much longer when Moody's face seemed to shift, almost like an odd ripple, and she knew her imagination was taking over. Maybe they didn't give her Dreamless Sleep.

Moody's usually blue eye seemed to darken, his grizzled face softening ever so slightly and grey hair taking on an almost blond sheen. He took a look around, almost as if he was making sure no one was paying attention, and plunged his hand into his pocket to pull out his flask and took a swig. Moody's face shifted once more, the rippling seeming to stop, and Emma nearly wanted to laugh. It was strange how her mind seemed to work sometimes.

The last thought that crossed Emma's mind before the darkness took hold seemed absolutely ridiculous to her. If she didn't know any better, she could have sworn that Moody wasn't actually Moody at all.

a/n: Hohohohohooooo. Getting closer to the end. Nice sweet fluff mixed with...whatever this was. o_o

To my late night readers - please go to sleep.

For my afternoon readers - I hope you've had a wonderful day so far.

For my morning readers - Have a wonderful day!

I love you all~

Xoxo, Cat

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