The Moonlit Series: Year Four - The Marauder's Child

by mymoonyandstars

Emma Lupin was just settling into her new life when everything was taken away from her. Between new anti-werewolf legislation, secret meetings with Greyback, and discovering the full secrets of her past, her journey is just beginning. Stripped of her identity, Emma has to grow up and rely on unlikely allies to bring her family back together. Will anything ever be the same? - on ao3

1. Letters and Papers

HOGWARTS PROFESSOR A WEREWOLF

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has had a very interesting year. Who knew that Hogwarts had something equally as dangerous as Sirius Black lurking around the school? Albus Dumbledore, known for his eccentric decision making, hired a werewolf to serve on the school staff.

Remus Lupin, werewolf, was hired to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. Following a near attack on students on the twenty-fourth, Lupin was arrested at his home in the early afternoon on the twenty-seventh. Lupin, a previously unregistered werewolf, has a teenage daughter, Emma Lupin. She has since been removed from the home for her safety. It is unclear as to whether or not she was aware of her father's affliction.

"We are taking all possible precautions to ensure that Miss Lupin remains safe," Ellis Moon of the Auror department stated. When asked for further comment, he declined.

Comments from students have ranged from greatly disappointed to terrified.

"I always thought that there was something strange about him," says Jocelyn Carmichael of Slytherin. "It wasn't a surprise to me that he was a werewolf at all. He can be scary."

"I thought he was a really nice man," said Elijah Owens of Ravenclaw. "I'm upset that he thought it would be all right to teach us."

While Dumbledore has assured the Daily Prophet staff that Lupin was never a danger to students, we at the Daily Prophet disagree. We have since learned that Remus Lupin was attacked by Fenrir Greyback. It's to be expected that Lupin also exhibits the same savage tendencies as Greyback.

The idea of The Boy Who Lived being in such close company of such a dangerous creature is horrifying. We also have reason to suspect that Lupin was responsible for allowing Sirius Black into the castle and aiding in his escape.

We hope that Emma and her fellow classmates will recover from such heinous crimes.

-Rita Skeeter

28 June, 1994

Dear Miss Lupin,

We regret to inform you that your adoption has been dissolved.

Werewolves do not have the right to adopt a child, magical or otherwise, under the Werewolf Code of Conduct, 1612. Furthermore, adoption has been made illegal by the Werewolf Protection Act, 1993, Section 3, Paragraph A.

We understand that you are currently residing with your grandfather in Wales. A Ministry official will arrive on 15 July to discuss your current arrangement.

Hoping you are well,

Yours sincerely,
Morey Hopkins
Department of Magical Law Enforcement
Administrative Registration Department
Ministry of Magic

TMCTMCTMC

DANGEROUS WEREWOLF KIDNAPPED CHILD

Here at the Daily Prophet, we have received many owls asking for updates on Emma Lupin and her safety. We strive to report the news as accurately as possible, and in our research, we have made a surprising discovery. Emma Lupin, known officially as Emelyn Theodosia Nickels, may have been kidnapped.

In our research, we found that Emelyn was born to Margaret Lupin, Remus Lupin's sister…

29 June, 1994

Hello Emma,

I've read what they've been writing in the Daily Prophet, and the Ministry simply cannot allow this to happen. I can't believe what they are writing about you and Professor Lupin. He did nothing wrong, and it's preposterous that they would allow that last article to be published. I don't understand why they would say that he kidnapped you when that's so far from the truth. I highly doubt that if he kidnapped you, you would be so close to him – you two are practically the same person!

I'm going to do all the research that I possibly can. They can't keep you away from your father when you're so obviously his.

Write back to me soon,

Love,
Hermione

29 June, 1994

Hi Emma,

How are you doing? I just wanted to check up on you. I can't imagine the past few days have been easy at all.

It's been a bit difficult here. Mum got into a right snit when she saw the first article about Professor Lupin, but she understands now. Dad's absolutely furious about what they're doing to you. He's been trying to talk to Cedric's dad to see what can be done, and I think he's spoken to your grandfather a few times. I'm sure you're both absolutely gutted, but Dad says it'll all be okay.

Mum and Dad said that you can come by at any time you'd like. They'd like to meet you – not because of what's happened, of course, but because I've brought you up so many times. Fred keeps teasing me about it. It's a bit embarrassing, really.

Send an owl when you can come around. You can Floo over, or maybe we can come to get you.

Miss you,
George

TMCTMCTMC

30 June, 1994

Dear Miss Nickels,

Since our last message dated 28 June 1994, we have received intelligence that your birth records have been amended under false information. We regretfully inform you that the amendments were not approved.

We have sent a letter to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to notify them of this error.

According to our previous records, your birth certificate was amended with our offices, dated 18 December 1993 and 12 April 1992. Unfortunately, this was done under false information. We will be sending you a copy of your last recorded birth certificate, dated 16 October 1980, for your records.

We ask that you please destroy any paperwork containing your amended information. If you attempt to file any paperwork under falsified information, we will be forced to take legal action.

Yours sincerely,
Morey Hopkins
Department of Magical Law Enforcement
Administrative Registration Department
Ministry of Magic

30 June, 1994

Dear Emma,

How are you doing? I always feel odd using an owl to send a letter, but I've been at Ernie's, and he let me use his owl. Ernie's not thrilled that I'm writing to you, but I don't care.

I just wanted to see how you were doing. Can't say much about the summer so far, but at least we're not at school anymore. It's nice to not have to do homework for a bit. Can you believe that we're fourth years now? It seems absolutely mental!

If it's easier, you can send me a letter by regular post. I'm staying at Ernie's until August as Mum and Dad are away for work. You remember that my mum doesn't like owls too much, so this will be nice. I'll add Ernie's address at the bottom of the letter, so you know where to write, just in case you don't want to owl. They've got a post box and everything, so it'll show up!

- Justin

TMCTMCTMC

1 July, 1994

Dear Emma,

I hope you're doing all right. Gran's been around the Ministry a few times to try and find out what's been going on. She thinks the entire thing is ridiculous.

Gran said if you'd like, you and your grandfather can come by at some point this summer. I'd like to show you the garden. I think you'd like it.

Neville

1 July, 1994

Hello Emma,

I heard the most beautiful story from my Dad the other day. It made me think of you and Professor Lupin. I'll have to tell you when we get back to school. I believe you'll enjoy it.

Dad said that you might have a Blibbering Humdinger around you. He said that if you're worried about them, you can make something with lavender, and it will keep them away.

I hope you're well.

Love,
Luna

1 July, 1994

Hi Emma,

It's been a few days. Usually, you would have written back by now. Are you all right?

I've still been doing research, and I'm tempted to write the Ministry to find out what laws they're citing. You look exactly like Professor Lupin. They can't dare say that you're not his child.

Please write back,
Hermione

1 July, 1994

Hi Daddy,

I knew I should have gone home with you that day.

I knew it, I knew it, I knew it.

Grandpa told me when he got home from work that you're finally home. He keeps trying to make me go out and do things when he gets back. I don't want to. I just want to be home with you.

He keeps trying to take me to Diagon Alley to get a new wand, but I refuse to go without you. I was hoping that maybe Mr. Ollivander would be able to repair my wand, and you have it at home. I loved it, and I like that it's similar to yours. I don't want to have to try and learn a new wand all over again.

I don't like not having my things. I miss my books. I wish I had the rest of my clothes. Nothing fits here, and of course, I have the things I'm not entirely fond of. That sounds incredibly selfish of me… I wish I had Boris and Bee. I wish I had you. I hate this.

Please, just come and take me home. I don't care where we go. I don't want to be here anymore. Maybe we can go to America. I read that their werewolf laws are nothing like the laws here. We can find somewhere with lots of woods or even just open fields with no one around. I don't care where we go. I just want to be with you.

Love,
Emma

TMCTMCTMC

EMELYN NICKELS SECRETLY A WEREWOLF?

It's no secret that Albus Dumbledore, unconventional Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, has made some questionable decisions. As it turns out, Remus Lupin is not the only werewolf to have been walking the halls of Hogwarts.

We have received intelligence that Emelyn could potentially be a werewolf as well. An anonymous source has provided information regarding Emelyn's blood status. Sometime last year, she was admitted into St. Mungo's following a medical emergency that we have yet to uncover. It turns out that she carries the disease receptors for Lycanthropy and has been equally as dangerous as her adoptive father, Remus Lupin. As Lycanthropy is only spread through a bite, we believe that her medical emergency involved receiving a bite from Lupin.

Fellow students have commented on her absence throughout the school year and her appearance around full moons. Emelyn has been known to be violent towards other students…

2 July, 1994

Dear Miss Nickels,

Upon further research into your case, we have discovered that you are a carrier of the Lycanthropy disease. We are writing to inform you that upon your seventeenth birthday, you are required to register your name and information with the Werewolf Registry.

Failure to do so will result in legal action.

Yours sincerely,

Hilliard Robbie
Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures
Beast Division
Ministry of Magic

2 July, 1994

Emma,

I know we haven't written to each other over the summer before, but I thought you should know that my aunt is taking your case. Professor Lupin is the best teacher we have ever had, and I'm sure that you're both gutted. I made sure to talk to her, so she knows the situation. She might write to you at some point, so be on the lookout for that.

My aunt is fair, and she'll make sure that everything works out. I don't know how long it'll take to get everything figured out, but she'll do her best.

She doesn't like seeing families separated for any reason. She disagrees with the current werewolf legislation, and she feels like the Ministry is making a stretch. She's brilliant, I promise. Professor Lupin did nothing wrong. It was just an unfortunate series of events. Any of the people who really paid attention know who he really is. Neither of you are alone.

A few of us are getting together over the summer. If you'd like, you can come to spend a few nights with us. Write back and let me know.

- Susan

2 July, 1994

Hey Emma,

Ginny's been round Luna's, and Luna said that you haven't written to her. I hoped that if you didn't write back to me, you would have written to her. It sounds like you haven't written to anyone at all. Ron mentioned that Hermione hasn't heard from you either.

Will you please write to one of us so that we know you're all right?

X – George

2 July, 1994

Daddy,

I had a dream about the Grindylow the other night. It was actually a bit funny. I still can't believe that you kept the Grindylow for so long. It was a terrible, terrible pet.

We were out by that funny little pond that we found near the house last summer. Do you remember? You made fun of me because I decided to jump into it and stepped on that funny bit of grass, which scared me. Pretty sure you teased me about it for days and took far too much joy in tickling my feet. I'm still cross over that, I hope you know.

Anyway, there was what seemed to be a hundred Grindylow in the pond! I suppose that's an exaggeration, though. Only five could reasonably fit in that pond, but it felt like there were a hundred, and they were all making those weird faces. You know how much I hate the ugly little faces they make. They're like ugly squashed potatoes – like gnomes. Not too sure what actually happened because something woke me up.

Can Grindylows even live in something that small? I still think that some sort of creature made that pond because it was so little, but what do you think? Do you still think it made itself over time? Maybe you're right. It was rather small.

Will you please write back to me?

I love you,
Emma

2 July, 1994

Hey Harry,

I know this seems weird because I've never written to you before. I sent this both Muggle and obviously by owl, so let me know what works for you. I wasn't sure which would be easier since I know your aunt and uncle are miserable. I apologize in advance if you somehow get in trouble for receiving Muggle post, so I hope that the return address seemed official. I hoped that if I made it seem like some sort of business, it would be all right. Perks of having a grandfather at the Ministry, I suppose. Hasn't been much help lately, though.

Summer's been weird already, and I guess I feel a little like you this year – going somewhere you don't really want to go. Do you get the Prophet? I don't know if you do. If not, I'll update you on what's been going on.

It would've been strange, all of us together, but I think it would've been all right. Although, bit rough for me – three Gryffindors and a Hufflepuff? Bit outnumbered here…especially since I would be the only girl, as well. Oh, that sounds miserable. Didn't even think about it until I wrote it just now. That's a bit scary.

When this mess is all sorted out, I promise that you're going to love Padfoot. You're going to love Dad, too. Dad's a lot quieter than Padfoot, so whenever you just want someone mellow, you go to Dad. I think Padfoot will be the fun parent, not that Dad isn't fun, but you know how he is.

I can't remember if Padfoot said he had a place for us all to go for the life of me. Do you think that we'll all go looking for a house together? Where do you think we should live? I thought about living somewhere near the ocean, but I enjoy living near the woods. It's very quiet where I actually live, not where I am now.

Oh, I know! What if we found someplace out by a lake with woods so that Dad and Padfoot could run around? I think they would enjoy that.

I think when we're all together, it's going to be fun. I hope you can't wait because I can't.

Love,
Emma

TMCTMCTMC

3 July, 1994

Emma,

I'm so sorry about what's happened. I've been trying to find the time to get out to see you, but things are difficult. I don't know if you've been reading the Prophet or not, but things aren't good. Knowing you, I'm sure you've gone through every possible article written. I know that you're scared, but you don't need to worry. I'm still all right, for right now. Your dad's been out for a few days. He's a bit shaken up but trust me – he's gone through worse. He'll recover like he always does, and Dr. Wheeler's been by because I asked. We're not leaving him alone.

The Ministry won't do anything serious because it is his first offense, but the laws are getting tighter. He was hit with the fine already, but that was taken care of. We can't change what already existed, but we can work around what comes next.

Your dad's beyond pissed that I paid his fines for him. He's been a right grump over it, but that's been his default state lately. Snuffles and I have been trying our best to keep him calm, but he misses you fiercely. I know that you've been trying to write to him, but he can't respond just yet as the Ministry's been dogging him. He's trying to do what he thinks is right to keep you safe and make sure that you can come home. Poor Beaky's had to fly back and forth to my place so many times just to keep things above water. Snuffles doesn't seem to mind, though.

Don't you dare for one minute think that your father's not writing to you because he doesn't love you. Your father will go to the ends of the Earth and back just for you, and you know that. We're just trying to make sure that he plays by their rules for the time being. Nothing is keeping you two apart by law, but the Ministry is currently trying to find any and all loopholes. We're trying to do the same and not give them a reason to find the separation valid.

The only thing that we can rely on right now is your paternity. I know that's currently a problem in itself. Your Grandpa wrote and mentioned that you received a letter informing you that you have to register. They can't force you to join the Werewolf Registry when you're not an actual werewolf. You don't have the same infectivity, and you don't transform – you just get sick every month. That doesn't make you dangerous, and the entire thing is ridiculous. I don't know who released your medical information to Skeeter, but I'm trying to make sure that the right person gets ahold of it. They haven't caught up to me yet, but it's only a matter of time. I'm not letting someone untrustworthy handle your care if you need to be in the hospital.

We've all been trying to figure out how to somehow get Snuffles added to your current paperwork, but it's all a bit shaky. Snuffles said that paperwork had been filled out years ago confirming your mum's surrogacy, but of course, we don't have it. Don't you dare think of trying to get it yourself. I see where you get your impulsiveness from now, and we don't need you getting hurt. Greyback will be more willing to play nice with you if you run into him to get you on his side. Do not fall for it.

Ignore the shit that Skeeter's been writing in the Prophet. She's known for over-sensationalizing everything to get people to buy the paper. Skeeter thrives on writing absolute nonsense. Sadly, it works. People, magical or Muggle, are obsessed with gossip, and unfortunately, you and your father are currently headline news.

I don't know what your grandfather has told you, but it doesn't sound like you've talked to him much. I'm not telling you to act like nothing is wrong, but it's been over a week.

Let him in.

He worries about you, too, you know. I understand that the situation isn't ideal, but don't let this be your downfall when you've come so far. You are an incredibly strong and powerful witch with big, gigantic, extraordinary, and brilliant dreams. You are going to change things for so many people in the future, Emma. Don't forget what you're fighting for. Someday, there will never be another case like yours because you're the one who changed that.

You are always going to be Emma Hope Lupin – no matter what the paperwork says. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Fuck what anyone else thinks. You are your father's daughter, and absolutely nothing will take that away from you.

I'm fine. Your dad is fine. Snuffles is fine.

Keep yourself safe – that's all any of us are asking for. Everything is going to work out, kid. I promise.

Love,
Elle

P.S. I sent over a balm to help with the scratch on your face. If I have to hear your father whinge about it one more time, I swear…You only need a small amount, twice a day. It'll help with any residual burning you might have, and it'll reduce the redness. It'll never go away, unfortunately, but it won't be as harsh.

TMCTMCTMC

4 July, 1994

Hey Emma,

Your address on the Muggle post was brilliant. I received both letters but receiving a bit of regular mail was nice. I think I might save the envelope just because it's funny. You can keep owling me and use Hedwig if you'd like. She knows to come straight to my window.

I get the Prophet sometimes, but Hermione and Ron have kept me up to date. Have you really not written to anyone yet? Have you heard from Padfoot?

I can't believe what they're doing to you. After how Fudge was when we tried to tell him what happened, maybe I can. Do you think they'll do anything to him? They won't, will they? Just because he's got a bit of a problem, it doesn't make Professor Lupin a bad person.

I don't recall if Padfoot ever said he had a place to live. What's your home like? It has woods? I think I'd like that. Maybe Professor Lupin and Padfoot could figure out how to make it bigger. The Weasley's did it at the Burrow, so I don't see why they couldn't figure it out. Maybe we can make a lake, too! Do you have a big backyard? I think they would probably like it.

Things have been all right here. I hate being at the Dursleys, but they mostly leave me alone now. I spend as much time away as I can. What do you usually do when you're home? I don't do much here. I mostly try to keep out of the way to avoid my cousin Dudley.

Write back soon,
Harry

4 July, 1994

Hey Harry,

I know why you were put in Gryffindor. Anyone who has to deal with any of this has to be brave. I know a lot of people chalk it up to you being "The Boy Who Lived," but they don't get it. I'm sorry if I've ever been an absolute arse around you because of it. I promise I won't ever do it again.

I'm glad you thought the address was funny. No, I haven't written to anyone. No, I haven't heard from Padfoot. I just don't want to write to anyone right now because they're not going to understand. I know they're trying to be helpful, but I'm scared. We had such big plans for this summer, and this hurts both of us. No one's going to understand that.

I don't know what they're going to do with Dad. Elle – my Healer – seems to think that things will be all right. I can't figure out what my Grandfather thinks, but then again, I try to avoid him because he makes things worse.

There're woods on all three sides of the house and a big field across the way. We're a bit out of the way, but there's a town nearbyish. Dad and I usually walk out there for takeaway. It's a bit of a walk, but it's nice to get outside. We have two bedrooms and a single bathroom. There's a study that perhaps could be turned into a bedroom, though. Maybe it could work for one of us. I'll let you pick which room you want, too! I don't mind. My room and the study is around the same size, so space isn't a big deal. The backyard is pretty big! I think we could make our own little lake. That would be fun.

What do I do when I'm at home? Read, mostly. It's so relaxing. Sometimes I'll throw the television on, or I'll play the wireless. Really depends on my mood.

Do you know about Nintendo? Justin was telling me about it because he has one. We didn't have anything like that at the children's home, and I'm wondering if Dad and Padfoot could figure out how to make it work. Maybe we can play videogames!

I hope avoiding your cousin's been going all right,

Love,
Emma

TMCTMCTMC

5 July, 1994

Emma,

Please write to someone. We're worried.
– George

5 July, 1994

Daddy,

I went out in the garden today. Thought I would try to go gnoming while Grandpa was at work. I couldn't stay out there long. All I could do was keep thinking about how we used to have our competitions to see who could fling a gnome the furthest.

Who do you think would win? I might give you a run for your money. I bet a Galleon I could beat you at flinging gnomes: a Galleon and two handfuls of Fry's chocolate – not Hogsmeade's chocolate. I want something Muggle.

Miss you lots.

Love, your daughter,
Emma

TMCTMCTMC

6 July, 1994

Sweetheart,

I want nothing more in this world than for you to be right here where you belong.

I know you don't understand, and I don't expect you to, but please wait for me to contact you again. I'm fine.

I love you more than anything, my beautiful girl – please remember that.

E.E. Cummings said it best – you are my sun, my moon, and all of my stars.

I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you.

Love,
Daddy

TMCTMCTMC

Emma stared at the letter in her hand, feeling completely numb. Her tears had stopped days ago, and she didn't think that she had any left to shed. She wasn't entirely sure what time it was, the sky only beginning to grow dark.

There was a soft knock at the door, and she turned her head to look but didn't get up from her bed. She was tired of seeing Lyall, and she carefully folded up her father's letter, tucking it under her pillow. Emma buried herself in her nest of blankets, hiding from the dwindling light and her grandfather, who had just opened the door. She closed her eyes, feigning sleep. Emma didn't think he ever believed her anymore.

"Emma?" Lyall spoke softly into the deceptively calm quiet. "I brought you dinner." Emma listened to the sound of ceramic touching her wood side table and the sliding of glass cup as it was set down. There was a slight dip in her mattress as Lyall leaned over to find the only spot on her head he could kiss. He waited for a few minutes to see if Emma would get up, sighed, and gently closed the door.

When Emma was sure that Lyall had made his way back downstairs, she finally sat up. A part of her felt bad about how she was acting, but a bigger part of her didn't care. Soleil wound up being enough company for her for the moment.

She looked over at what Lyall brought and her face twisted in disgust. Her father would have known to make a regular steak pie and not a steak and kidney pie. Her father certainly would have known to not add mushy peas that covered half of the chips on her plate. Remus would have made jokes about how she was decidedly not English at all and came from an entirely different country. Emma would have thrown a chip at him and proceeded to take half of his mashed potatoes, his side of choice, to dip her chips into. She would then proceed to pick a completely different place to live. Remus would most likely lean over to snatch a chip or two from her plate with a cheeky grin as she would cry out in indignation. Their conversation would most likely involve the pros and cons of wherever location she chose, whether it be somewhere as the coast of America or even Middle-Earth. It would be fun. This was decidedly not fun at all.

With a frustrated huff, Emma picked out the few salvageable chips she could find and peeled off the bits of pastry she deemed all right. She could desperately go for a bacon butty, but then she frowned, realizing a bacon butty wouldn't be good. It needed whatever bread Remus decided to make because he made the best bread she had ever had. That further led her into the vicious cyclical cycle of everything she should be doing right that very minute back in Upper Helmsley.

The golden sheen of the setting sun lit up her messy floor, casting an almost pretty glow to the rubbish that covered nearly every square inch. Her entire room was a mess. There were piles of paper littering the floor, old Daily Prophets with ripped out articles, an assortment of books that she only dared to find in the dead of night. Parchment was crumpled everywhere, discarded letters from the people who wrote to her, discarded responses she tried to make but gave up on. She had knocked over an ink bottle at some point, refusing to turn the light on, spilling ink all over the carpet.

The few clothes she had laid discarded over by her closet. It had been an unfortunate discovery that none of the clothes she had at her grandfather's actually fit. At some point during the year, she had gotten hips, and suddenly Remus's seemingly idle comments on going clothes shopping made sense. It appeared he had been altering her jeans and trousers for her, just to stretch out their use. As grateful as she was, it didn't help her situation in the least. With everything going on, Emma wasn't allowed any access to her things. It was almost like she was effectively tossed out of her own home, and she resented it.

Two pairs of jeans, both very worn, a single pair of trousers that matched nothing, two shirts that actually fit, and a single pair of pajamas was not going to get her far. Emma didn't even want to get started on the knickers she had. Every time she changed, she silently cursed the fact that Persephone insisted she get so many skimpy numbers the previous summer. She had been thrilled at getting such fancy lingerie, feeling incredibly grown-up, but now they were nuisances. Emma cursed herself for not thinking to pack a single pair of comfortable knickers. She wouldn't ever make that mistake twice.

Emma sighed, reaching into her nightstand to go through the letters she had kept and hadn't thrown on the floor. She set them aside, unfolding the topmost one.

Think twice about who you trust.

Emma had not gotten any closer to figuring out what exactly Fenrir's message meant. She had scrawled out several annoyed letters to the werewolf, but they lay amongst the heap of crumpled parchment. What even would she say? What purpose would it serve for her to even write to him other than to just tell him this was his fault?

With a groan, Emma rubbed her hands over her forehead, trying to dull the pounding that was beginning to form. She couldn't even actually blame Fenrir for what happened. It was her fault. Remus told her it wasn't, but it was absolutely and one-hundred-percent her fault no matter how she looked at it. No matter how many times she replayed the night at the Shrieking Shack, it all came down to her not being where she needed to be. They should have used the Time-Turner to go even further back in time.

She shoved the heels of her palms into her eye sockets until she saw different colors behind her eyes. When she pulled her hands away, she stared at Fenrir's neat handwriting and shoved his note aside. She picked up Elara's letter next. Elara had said Fenrir would be willing to work with her so he could get on her good side. Emma didn't think that she would ever let that happen.

Her thoughts slowly fluttered to what Persephone had told her. She hadn't gotten any closer to solving the cryptic messages of her ex-best friend. Persephone told her that Fenrir had plans to get her; he would give small gifts freely, but something big would require a deal. To make it worse, Fenrir supposedly had something involving her memories. Was Persephone even telling her the truth? Emma picked up Fenrir's note again. Was that what he was trying to tell her?

None of it made sense, and she never even got to tell Remus anything that Persephone had said. The thought of what transpired well before the Shack had completely left her mind. She didn't have all of Remus's logical thoughts or all of Sirius's incredibly harebrained ideas. As similar as she was to both men, Emma felt she wasn't like them at all.

All Emma had to work with was the Ministry had stripped her of her entire identity, falsely labeled her as a werewolf, and she wasn't allowed to be with her father. Every time she thought about it, the angrier she became. If she was a werewolf in the eyes of the Ministry, what purpose did it serve to keep her away from her father, who was an actual werewolf? Lyall wasn't doing a good job of getting explanations from anyone.

Emma looked up as there was a tapping at her window. She frowned at the unfamiliar owl and got up to let it in. Rather than staying, the owl dropped the letter held in its beak and flew right out. Was it a letter from Sirius? She didn't think it was from Remus as he had just sent his letter back with Aurora. Still, she felt a hopeful bubble in her chest. Maybe he was writing to tell her he was coming to get her and needed to use a different owl so the Ministry didn't know.

Curious and excited, Emma unfolded the letter that only contained nine words.

Clyne Gardens. You can find me there at dusk.

Her excitement immediately deflated. Emma snatched up her note from Fenrir to compare the writing and scoffed. She wasn't sure how much worse things could get. Fenrir was a lot closer than she thought he would be, and he was clearly a man of very few words. The gardens weren't very far from her grandfather's house at all.

She tossed Fenrir's newest communication into the pile of letters littering the floor and climbed back into bed. Maybe someday she would wake up from this nightmare.