Emma wasn't entirely sure if it was worth writing to Remus, but the fact Fenrir handed her bag to her told her he knew much more. He had to have realized what she was doing the night before if he had been watching her. Cautiously, she pulled her notebook and quill out, activating it as quietly as possible. She knew it was stupid, knew Fenrir would hear her if he was close, but it still made her feel better.
'It's Greyback,' Emma wrote quickly. 'Said he wanted to make an offer, but Ward showed up.'
'What happened?'
Emma huffed out an annoyed breath. This would be a much easier conversation to have in person. 'That phrase from my Boggart keeps being said,' she scrawled out quickly, tapping the end of the quill against the top of the notebook. 'I don't know why. I just know that I'm not me when it's said. Greyback didn't seem too pleased by how I reacted.'
'But why?'
'I don't know. He's with Ward right now. I'm not sure whether I'm more concerned about what's happening or the fact Greyback was nice to me.'
Emma stared anxiously at the page, waiting for Remus's reply, and reached into her pocket to pull out the rock. The rock was warm from sitting in her pocket all day, and the smoothness of it was soothing. The only person it could have come from was Fenrir, which was alarming as it meant he was in her room. However, that didn't seem surprising as she practically gave him an open invitation leaving her windows open.
'This is very unusual,' Remus wrote back. 'Something had to have changed from what we know, and that worries me. If something changed that Greyback didn't know about, it will make him unpredictable. He won't be happy. Keep your eyes and ears open, Emma. You are going to have to proceed with extreme caution. Do not be reckless. I am not losing you to Greyback.'
Just by how jerky Remus's writing was, Emma knew he was worried. His lazy loops were sharp and jagged, and she could practically see him pacing in the living room. She couldn't fathom how difficult it was for Remus to feel like he couldn't do anything. His mood consistently soured after each encounter she had with Greyback while at Hogwarts, though it wasn't his fault. She hated that she couldn't try to reassure him as she usually would.
'You won't, I promise,' Emma wrote. Her head snapped up at the slam of a door. 'Just heard a door. Putting this away just in case. I love you. I'll be fine.'
Emma reluctantly wiped the book clear and shoved it back into her bag with the quill. She tucked her bag to the side of her body against the wall and anxiously turned the rock in her hands. Could she use the stone as a weapon if she needed to? The moment the thought crossed her mind, she realized how stupid it sounded. With how smooth the rock was, it would bounce easily off Fenrir. He would probably find it funny, but probably not in his agitated state.
It had been a long while since she had been terrified of Fenrir, but the look on his face nearly sent her scrambling back on her bed. Her blood ran cold as he slammed her door shut, and he turned to her with a deadly look. Emma tried to speak but found her mouth had gone dry. Fenrir stared at her, taking in a deep breath that came out as a growl.
Emma flinched as he shoved his hand into his pocket, unsure of what he was pulling out, and held tightly to the rock. Fenrir's eyes briefly found the rock in her hands but didn't care to deem it as a threat. She relaxed slightly as Fenrir pulled a vial out of his pocket with a wispy silver substance that looked far too familiar.
"Do you know what this is?" Fenrir asked, his voice strained as he held back his anger. She did in fact know what was in the vial, and she didn't like it. He gave a slow nod seeing the recognition in Emma's eyes. "Do you remember who took your memories from you?"
"No," Emma said quietly, watching as Fenrir reached into his pocket to pull out another, larger vial with a shimmering lavender liquid. "What's that?"
Fenrir's eyebrow arched, and he ran his tongue over his teeth. "You don't know what this is?" he asked.
"N-no. Should I? I'm decent at potions, but I've never…I don't know what that is."
"You should have received this nasty little brew when you left here," Fenrir said slowly. "Are you absolutely positive that you never had it?"
"I've never seen that before," Emma said quickly, nervously. "Nasty little brew?" she questioned. "I think I've had quite a few of those lately, but I certainly haven't had that. I would remember something with that specific coloring."
Fenrir's chuckle was dark. "That changes everything," Fenrir said, looking as if he was doing quick thinking.
"Changes what?"
"Well, since the bastards decided to change everything and not tell me, I've decided so am I. I'm not making you an offer because you are accepting this whether you want it or not."
"I…Fenrir, I don't understand," Emma said, her eyes flicking between Fenrir's and the vials he held in one hand.
Fenrir shoved the bottles back into his pocket and sat down on Emma's bed, grabbing onto her wrist to keep her from going anywhere. "You have two choices. Either you take the potion willingly, or I make you take it. Pick one."
"Why? Fenrir, you're not telling me anything."
"Don't play stupid, Emma. You know damn well the one vial holds some of your memories; memories that I was unaware were taken from you –"
"Which means you were aware that memories were being taken from me in the first place," Emma said accusingly. It took her a moment to realize that Fenrir had said her real name. After being called Rabbit so often, it didn't occur to her that he knew her actual name. Somehow that was worse than being called Rabbit or Soleil.
"I am because they're split up. I have some, and so does Ellis; I hardly think I have to explain who has the third set. I was unaware that more was taken, that Ward decided to be a fourth party. And up until a half-hour ago, I was prepared to offer those memories to you, try and forge something that benefits us both."
"And now you're not…"
"Oh, no. No, no, no. I am changing everything. There was an agreement, and it was broken. We're playing by my rules now. Something tells me that you understand the need for discretion more than your little friend does, and I don't anticipate any issues with you. You're not going to open your mouth and tell everyone about this and ruin everything."
This changed everything that Emma had ever been told. This went against what Persephone told her, and this went against what she knew. Emma wasn't entirely sure that anyone would be remotely prepared for this development.
"I don't want to work with you, Fenrir…" Emma said quietly. "I just…I want to get through however long I'm stuck here and finally get to go home."
"You're going to want to work with me."
"Why?"
"Because, Emma, the moment you understand, you'll realize the truth. I was never the villain in your story. Your entire life, your entire mind, has been manipulated for you to believe things differently."
"By who?"
"You already know," Fenrir said, leaning in closer. "Because you trusted the wrong people."
"Fenrir, that's not fair," Emma said with a slight whine. "I didn't know!"
Fenrir's face softened ever so slightly. "I know that now," he said.
Emma hated this version of Fenrir more than anything because she didn't understand him. She understood the animalistic Fenrir and could accept that he was more wolf than man, but this was a Fenrir more man than wolf. It didn't sit well with her, and she struggled to make sense of what was happening.
If it weren't for Fenrir's hold on her wrist, she would have pushed herself as far away as she could by the slamming of her door. She looked over Fenrir's shoulder to look at Ward and was surprised to see that the man looked all right. He looked livid, and his wand was held tightly in his hand.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Greyback," Ward said tightly.
Fenrir sighed, letting go of Emma's wrist and turning around to acknowledge Ward.
"And why shouldn't I?"
Ward was bristling with anger while Fenrir just looked bored. "Greyback, if she knows – if Alexander finds out –"
"Do you think I give a shit if Judas knows? Quit using his middle name. It's fucking stupid when she's not four anymore. You idiots act like she couldn't figure it out herself with how fucking stupid you all are."
Judas? Jude? Was Jude not his actual name? It would certainly explain why she couldn't find information on her family if that was the case. Fenrir had just given her a piece of information that she was sure her father didn't even know. Emma looked between Fenrir and Ward, entirely lost. She didn't particularly want to work with Fenrir in any capacity, but she needed more information. Deciding it was best to just listen and pay attention, Emma shoved the rock back into her pocket. Whatever was happening now required her full attention.
"Don't forget, Ward," Fenrir drawled, "I know where to find you and your family. It would be such a shame for the littlest one to disappear, wouldn't it?"
There was the Fenrir that Emma knew, and it made her sick. Perhaps she didn't want to work with Fenrir after all. She didn't want to be complicit in whatever he planned to do to Ward's family. Emma knew the damage that he could do, and she didn't need the guilt that would come with it. She wanted no parts of what was happening, but she couldn't find her voice.
But it still didn't change that he had never done anything to actually harm her.
Ward glared at Fenrir and shoved his wand roughly back up his sleeve. "I am not cleaning up the mess that you create."
"I don't expect you to. You need to clean up your own since you're the one who decided to ignore every little thing that was planned."
"Ale-Jude was the one who changed things."
"Oh, I have no doubt about it because I'm sure he thought he was getting one over on me. But you and Ellis aren't exactly innocent parties, are you? One of you had to realize that at some point, I would catch up to what you bastards did behind my back."
"None of us anticipated you caring about the little brat. If Jude had his way, this wouldn't have been a problem, but one of yours managed to fuck that up. Had to turn her into one of you."
Emma's gaze immediately shot over to Ward. Did all of this mean that she had been right about Jude all along? It had to; there was no other explanation.
"She's mine," Fenrir growled. "I take care of the things that are mine."
"Yes, well, good luck with that now," Ward said, standing up straighter. "You know that Jude is only going to try harder now."
"Let him. He's predictable," Fenrir challenged. "I could use a good challenge." Fenrir stood up slowly, rolling his head on his neck. "I'm done talking to you now, Ward," Fenrir said, slamming the door in Ward's face. To Emma's confusion, she watched as Fenrir reached back into his coat to pull out a wand, casting some sort of charm on the door. She had no idea that Fenrir even had a wand, and she realized that it was an incredibly foolish thing for her to not consider. Of course, Fenrir would have a wand. He was a wizard first before becoming a werewolf; he just didn't need to use it often.
Fenrir turned back to her slowly, his expression sharp.
"What will it be, Emma? Are you going to be difficult? Or are you going to make this easy?" he asked, crossing his arms. "Trust me, I have plenty of practice dealing with difficult pups."
It had been a very long time since Fenrir had called her a pup, and Emma frowned. "Fenrir, I'm not…"
"I thought you said you accepted what you were? You're a wolf, Emma," Fenrir said, in a tone that suggested that she was stupid. "Your father sired you, which makes you one of mine. You are pack, which makes you family. You. Are. A wolf. Granted, it appears your father has to be difficult. I'll admit that I'm disappointed that he cannot do you the simple favor of biting you to finish things. Perhaps that means he's giving you to me, after all. I'll have to thank him for such a gift…" Fenrir reached back into his pocket to pull out both vials. "It's your choice. The easy way? Or the hard way?"
"Fenrir, I don't want to be pack…I don't –"
"That's fine if you want to be cast out and be a lone wolf like your father. But keep in mind that means any other Alpha can have his way with you, and I'm afraid you're rather small, so you'll be…tempting," Fenrir said, stepping closer. "I think you're smart enough to understand what I would be willing to offer you."
"Besides a guaranteed bite?"
Fenrir chuckled as he sat back down. "There's more than that."
"Like what? Fenrir, what do you want from me? Why do you want to help? You don't seem like the sort of person who would do any of this if you weren't getting something out of it."
"You're correct. I don't. But who says I want something in return?"
"Fenrir, I'm not stupid."
"You had me worried," Fenrir chuckled.
"Well?"
"I'm getting you. I want your loyalty to me…and to the pack."
"Awful high price for me to pay considering I'm not even of age yet," Emma said. "Not sure that's enough for me to consider it."
Fenrir gave a slight shrug. "Only two years until that day comes," Fenrir said, studying Emma for a moment. "You're hesitating to give me any form of loyalty because you don't believe me."
"That could have something to do with it," Emma admitted. "And my loyalty isn't to you."
"I imagine you'll tell me your loyalty is to your darling father, isn't it?"
Emma held Fenrir's gaze for a moment before looking away. There was no way she would be able to get herself out of that one because it was the truth. She could convince herself to believe anything if it meant a solid lie, but she loved her father. Emma also had a sneaking suspicion that whatever wolfish connection existed, it meant she would be loyal to her father regardless.
"I'll offer you this – it will take me until sometime next week to retrieve every single memory of yours. That's provided all parties involved decide to play nice with me. I'll grant you that time to make your decision," Fenrir said, setting the bottles down on the bed and extending his hand out to Emma. "You might think you don't want to pledge your loyalty now, but you will. Do we have a deal?"
"When would those memories be from?" Emma asked, glancing at the vial in Fenrir's hand curiously.
"Just before you left here. I guarantee each one has something to do with me since you remember nothing involving me. Your lack of reaction to the rock I left you tells me that your inability to truly remember me goes beyond what they subdued in the first place."
Emma looked down at the glass vials, studying the swirling mist and the shimmering potion. "You said that it's a nasty brew. I'm assuming it's not just because it's a potion," Emma said.
Fenrir inclined his head slightly. "It'll be painful."
"Why?"
"Because your mind has to undo the damage that was already done while also trying to put everything back into place," Fenrir answered. He pointed to her memories. "These have to be added to this –" he pointed to the shimmering potion "– because they won't fit where they belong otherwise. This little bastard is meant to lift whatever effects the potion had in the first place, remove that fog that I'm sure you've felt. Even without memories being removed, I'm sure the memories of your last month here isn't clear."
"Why do you know so much about this?" Emma asked.
"I researched. I was the only one opposed to this specific set of requirements of you being here. If you're worried about the pain, I'm sure you know that I can alleviate that?"
"It didn't work that well with…with Elle," Emma said quietly. "Not like with Dad."
"She hasn't been a werewolf as long as your father and I have. I can't take the entirety of the pain away because it'll take a few days before you feel normal. Although, you're going to be in for a rough week regardless."
Emma blinked slowly at Fenrir. "Why am I going to be in for a rough week?"
Fenrir's signature smile twisted itself on his lips. "You don't stink of potions," he said, almost in amusement. "You'll bleed soon."
"Oh, buggering fuck," Emma muttered, her face heating up at the realization of what Fenrir was saying. She ran her hands down her face with a groan. With everything happening, Emma had completely forgotten to take her potion for her monthlies. She swore to herself that she would never forget again after doing it during the school year. At least her father was considerably more subtle about it, but it wasn't any less embarrassing. "Wonderful. Remind me to thank my father for letting you be the one to inform me I'm going to be absolutely miserable."
"Rather convenient that it lines up with the week before the full. I'm going to have a very difficult time resisting you…"
Emma would have been more disgusted if she wasn't suddenly preoccupied with the fact she lost track of time. The full moon was nearly a week away, and she would need to make the Wolfsbane Potion. How was she meant to do that with none of her things or knowing where to get the ingredients? She couldn't let Remus suffer again, not after the last month. Her stomach dropped at the realization that she wouldn't even have Remus to help her get through the night. Having a rough week was a gross understatement in every sense of the word.
"You promise that you won't let me suffer completely with this?" Emma asked. "And that you'll give me the time to make my decision?"
"You have my word," Fenrir said.
Remus was absolutely going to kill her for this one. Every conversation about Fenrir involved him telling her explicitly not to do what she was about to do. However, she wasn't left with too many options. Her door was magically sealed shut, and the room was too small to try and escape through the windows. She had Sirius's knife but had no idea what to do with it. She was stuck between a rock and a hard place, and Fenrir did not look to be willing to negotiate any more than he had. The choice was entirely out of her hands.
"All right," Emma reluctantly agreed, reaching out to shake Fenrir's hand. She yelped as he grabbed tight to her hand and pulled her to him, somehow spinning her to face the opposite way as he placed her on his lap. He pulled her tightly to his body so that her back was flush against his front. She made to protest the way he locked an arm tightly around her possessively, tensing up but thought better of it when he laughed. Of course, Fenrir would find it funny.
"I'm going to assume you've been waiting to do that," Emma muttered, shivering as his breath skimmed her neck as he reached for the vials.
"You'd be very right," Fenrir said, kissing her cheek. "Can I trust you not to try escaping?"
"Wouldn't get very far even if I tried," Emma said through grit teeth.
"Right you are, Rabbit."
Emma relaxed ever so slightly when Fenrir released his grip. He handed Emma the bottle with the shimmering potion, uncorking the bottle. It smelled deceptively sweet, but even she knew that sweet things could be dangerous. Maybe she would be lucky, and it wouldn't be terrible.
"You really need to learn how to relax around me," Fenrir commented. He popped the cork out of the other vial and tilted it, so the silver wisps melted into the potion.
"Well, when you act the way you do, it's a bit difficult," Emma replied. "Grabbing me like I'm a doll that you can just toss around. Can't say I'm too pleased with our current seating arrangement."
Fenrir huffed in annoyance and carefully adjusted so that Emma was sitting between his legs instead. Emma thought that would be the end of it, but he slid closer, seemingly unwilling to break their contact. She didn't particularly mind being positioned the way she was. She discovered that it calmed her when she was Remus, but it was much different with Fenrir. With Fenrir, it was clearly to show her who was in charge of the situation, demonstrating his apparent need to possess her. While Emma didn't protest Fenrir being so close, she protested as he took the potion bottle out of her hand.
"I thought this would be the easy way," Emma said in annoyance. "Why did you just take that from me?"
"This is the easy way," Fenrir said, pulling Emma's head back to rest against his shoulder. "I don't trust you not to spill any of it. If you do, this entire thing is pointless, and I've wasted my time."
"I don't think I've regretted anything more than this," Emma grumbled.
"You won't," Fenrir said with a slight chuckle. "Well, maybe you will…You really need to relax, or else this is going to be even worse."
Emma took a deep breath, trying to ignore the fact it was Fenrir behind her. That was a complicated task when his arm snaked underneath hers. Still, she was grateful for the patience he was willing to extend. She didn't think he was patient often. She surveyed the potion bottle held in Fenrir's hand. It wasn't as much as a full dose of Wolfsbane, but there was a sizable amount of potion. She hated potions more than anything, but she could handle this. What could be worse than Wolfsbane?
The entire thing gave her an incredible amount of anxiety. There was a strong possibility he could be lying to her, but she knew what memories looked like. It would do her no good to be given memories that weren't hers, but the fear was still there. Emma swallowed hard, looking down at Fenrir's arm wrapped tight around her body. Needing to find some form of comfort, Emma tentatively placed her hand on top of Fenrir's, feeling entirely disgusted in herself. It was even worse when he understood what she was seeking, taking her hand himself, lacing their fingers together. If Emma didn't think she was small before, the way her hand sat in his made it much more apparent.
"Okay," Emma whispered when she finally pulled herself together. She went to pull her hand from Fenrir's, but he refused to let go. Emma supposed she would just have to accept it.
Fenrir readjusted slightly, pressing the bottle to her lips. "Open," he said quietly. Emma didn't have much room to not comply.
Whatever this strange potion was tasted as sickly sweet as it smelled. Emma was sure that Fenrir had lied to her and that the potion was something else entirely. She felt no different, and nothing seemed to be happening. A slight frown crossed her face as Fenrir set the empty bottle down and his now free hand came up to run through her hair. Emma was about to question it, but a sudden sharp pain seemed to spread through her entire head like a lightning strike.
Emma should have realized that Fenrir would have an extremely skewed definition of pain, considering he transformed every month. His possessive hold on her suddenly made sense as she felt she would be driven mad with the pain. It was a blinding, white-hot pain that sat at the base of her skull before exploding to the front of her brain. However, Fenrir was true to his word, and for perhaps the only time in her life, Emma was grateful he was a werewolf. She couldn't even be bothered by the way he wrapped himself around her body, pulling her into a familiar warmth. Emma had absolutely no understanding of werewolf magic, but this particular power was helpful.
The pain didn't dissipate nearly as much as she had hoped, but it was enough. Emma didn't expect it to leave her so weak, and she leaned back against Fenrir, breathing hard like she had run a marathon. His fingers coming up to massage her scalp was disturbingly blissful, relieving the pain further. And to think if this worked, she would have to go through this process all over again? Emma almost considered telling Fenrir to just bite her the next week instead. She didn't think that a werewolf transformation would be as terrible as what she experienced.
She wasn't sure how long they stayed how they were, but her headache dulled considerably. There was a definite throb, but she could manage. Emma opened her eyes slowly and lifted her free hand to wipe her face clear of her tears.
Fenrir finally let her pull her hand from his, and Emma felt her face heat up when he flexed his fingers. It was stupid of her to feel guilty that she might have actually hurt him, but the feeling was there. But that was an entirely new thought that she never would have thought otherwise.
Emma slowly slid herself away from Fenrir and dared to look over her shoulder at him and let out a soft gasp. She knew Fenrir. She knew that she knew Fenrir, but the recognition she felt was plain as day, like puzzle pieces fitting together. As much as Emma found Fenrir's entire ordinary man persona hysterical, she knew this version of Fenrir just as well as werewolf Fenrir. The flood of emotions she felt was confusing – anger, hurt, happiness, and to Emma's horror, love.
How could she ever have felt love for a monster so depraved as Fenrir Greyback? She hated herself for it and was increasingly annoyed that it would make sense. Fenrir had been a consistent part of her life, and she had latched onto him, just wanting someone to love her. She didn't know the truth of what Fenrir truly was, didn't know the stories, or understand the terror he caused. The worst part was as she sifted through her thoughts, it seemed he felt the same way towards her to some degree. That was an uncomfortable revelation for her to make.
Her thoughts suddenly drifted to the rock. Emma reached back into her pocket to pull the stone out, looking between Fenrir and the rock.
"You used to bring me rocks all the time," Emma said. "I found one I liked…out near the park, and you were with me, and that started my collection." Emma twisted herself to look out her window, searching for a particular tree. "The box of rocks we collected…"
"It's still there where you left it," Fenrir said softly. "I've added a few to the collection over the years."
Emma turned back around to look at Fenrir accusingly. "You knew I would come back here?"
"That was never part of the plan. It just became a habit for me. You were never meant to come back here," Fenrir said, standing up and crossing his arms. "You would have been given your memories again…provided you weren't dead, of course."
Emma nodded slowly, rubbing her temples. Too much had happened for her to process what was going through her mind. The dull ache was starting to grow again, and she pulled her knees up to rest her head on them with a groan.
"I'll try and bring you something for the headache tomorrow," Fenrir said, studying Emma for a moment. "I wouldn't stay up long. The sooner you sleep, the quicker your body will heal. You're going to need it."
"I don't know if I can sleep now," Emma said quietly, lifting her head as she looked around the room.
"Why not? I can see that you're exhausted."
Emma swallowed thickly. "I forgot that Ward used to lock me in a room by myself – this room – whenever I skipped meals…I guess because that meant I didn't have that potion. He would black out the windows so I couldn't see. He locked the door and wouldn't let me leave no matter how hard I begged." Emma met Fenrir's gaze, still not quite believing that she could remember that. She looked over at the door, wondering if Ward was still outside waiting. "I've been scared of the dark for as long as I can remember…I didn't understand why until now."
The look on Fenrir's face darkened again as he followed Emma's gaze, lips pulling back with a snarl. "I'll take care of it." Fenrir dropped a hand to rest on top of Emma's head for a moment. "I'll be back later, instead. I'll make sure your door stays unlocked, but I don't recommend leaving for a while," he warned.
She didn't want Fenrir to come back at all, and she watched as he left, closing the door behind him. Emma was eternally grateful for the chocolate bar that she had left untouched and immediately went into her bag for it. She broke off a piece and shoved it in her mouth, letting it sit on her tongue to melt. Somehow nothing and everything made sense all at once.
Emma was overwhelmed as she tried to sift through her thoughts, trying to pull up memories. It wasn't full memories because she couldn't piece those together yet, but things fit. She had never realized how much of her mind had been in a fog, how truly unaware of herself she had been. Emma had been a completely different person, still shy, still quiet, but she was different. Fierce, even.
Fenrir wasn't around as often as Emma had thought. He was there frequently enough that she knew him as well as he would allow. Fenrir wasn't the person who would show up for school events, leaving her disappointed often. If she was lucky when he was around, he would help her with homework and projects, but rarely did he care about those achievements. He was more concerned about keeping her active, both mentally and physically.
Praise was rare, but when he gave it, she felt loved. She had become a people pleaser, seeking validation from anyone and everyone she could. It was no wonder that Jocelyn found her an easy target. Emma just wanted people to care about her, and she had a lot of love to give. Jocelyn had been a challenge, once that she had never been able to defeat.
She realized that she had a relatively normal Muggle childhood. There were football games and dance classes – she wanted to be a ballerina. Emma felt stupid not knowing that about herself. It was such an innocent set of memories taken away from her, and she couldn't understand why.
It seemed like Fenrir treated her like a child from his pack, with tough love and roughhousing. When he was pleased with her, she was Pup; otherwise, he just used her name. When she played, he observed her, letting her make her own mistakes and receive everyday childhood bumps and bruises. Fenrir only stepped in when he felt she was being too reckless, which was decidedly often. Seeing Sirius in action, Emma had no doubt that the toddler version of herself learned her impulsivity from him. It brought a faint smile to her lips. She had always been equal parts of Remus and Sirius and had never known.
Despite the normalcy she was given, everything Fenrir did for her had a purpose. Maybe she wasn't necessarily meant to find joy where she could, but the carefree side of Emma always did. But it was all a means to an end, a way to help slow the tremor she developed from the Cruciatus.
A shiver went down her spine at the reminder of the torture curse. Until last year, Emma would never have understood, yet she knew about it already because Fenrir himself had told her. A foggy memory, still trying to take shape, found her sitting on Fenrir's lap as she cried because she wasn't like other children. The years of childhood bullying that came with making fun of her once red hair had also been riddled with the cruel words of other children judging her. She was abnormal, weird, broken as one boy had called her. Fenrir sought a way to fix that. He wanted a strong and healthy member of his pack, and he wouldn't have that with her if he didn't intervene.
It seemed as though Fenrir started her with football, forcing her to learn how to use her body in different ways. Emma preferred her books, but Fenrir didn't see the need, felt she was smart enough without reading. He was determined. Football wasn't enough to get the results he was looking for.
He moved along to dance, ballet specifically for its precision and its elegance. A much younger and much smaller version of herself hated it at first, but Emma loved being praised. She often received it during dance classes. Her heart broke a little at the sudden memory that she had been working towards a goal and had been so close. All she wanted to do was earn her pointe shoes to show Fenrir that she was better – not perfect, but much better than she was. She would have been able to start pointe classes the year started at Hogwarts.
Ballet had apparently stayed for a long time, but football was put to the side. Fenrir was content to let her grow strong in other ways – climbing trees, running around the playground, even using him as a makeshift jungle gym.
Her love of drawing apparently came from Fenrir, just another method of trying to dial back the damage done. Emma took to it quickly, enamored by the pretty crayons he would give her, and the smooth wooden pencils that she kept with her at all times. It was unfortunate how much her life was molded by the werewolf and how whole she suddenly felt. It was cruel.
But there was hidden darkness that made sense to keep secret. By Emma remembering, it made making her suffer harder. Her knowledge of the truth was power. Emma understood why Fenrir felt the need for her to know, but it felt manipulative.
Would it be worth telling Fenrir of Ward's further transgressions? She suffered the curse well past two. Just like her fear of the dark, it appeared that Emma was finally beginning to understand what happened to little girls like her. Little girls like her were tortured and threatened by the idea of violent acts just to be brought down a peg or several. In the rare moments she showed magic, she was reminded painfully as to why she shouldn't.
Emma lifted her hand to survey the shake and frowned. It was the worst she had ever seen it, and she brought her hand back close to her body. Was the return of the tremor from fear? Or was it her mind playing tricks on her, reminding her of what she had been through? It was both, Emma decided.
There were still parts of her mind hidden, chunks of time that weren't fitting in. The more she thought about it, the more her head started to hurt. Those were clearly the moments that were stolen from her. Maybe she did want Fenrir back just to try and relieve some of the pain. Emma really wanted both of her fathers with her, but she had to make do with what she had. She hated herself with every fiber of her being for it.
With a sigh, Emma wrapped up the chocolate and tucked it back into her bag. She looked behind her to look out the windows. The sun was getting lower in the sky but still not quite ready to set. Fenrir said he would be back later, and Remus would be waiting to hear back from her.
Emma twisted herself to lean against the wall, pulled out her notebook and quill, and activated the book. 'Dad, are you around?' Emma wrote, gnawing on her lower lip. Would it be better to try and explain now, or should she explain it in person?
'I have nowhere else to be. Are you okay?' came Remus's reply, his writing still jerky from nerves.
Was she okay? Other than feeling like she really didn't know herself, she supposed she was. 'It's a lot to try and explain this way…' Emma wrote back, unsure of how to really respond to his question.
'Try?' he wrote back, and Emma sighed. She stared at the page for a moment, twisting the quill in her hands.
'Do you remember how we talked about how it would be nice if I could remember everything?' Emma scrawled out, waiting anxiously for Remus's reply.
'Yes? Why?'
'I changed my mind.'
a/n: It only took 600k plus words and three books to get to this point. I feel like I've been sitting on this one for FOREVER. Mystery's still not done, though. Just...partially. o_o
Anyway, thought I'd take a moment to mention that Fenrir is a warning of himself. Just...gonna mention that now.
Lu! Thank you, as always! Yes, the format here for commenting without being registered is easier, but thank you, thank you, thank you! I love bringing Elle into the story - she's such a fun character! And of course I adore my Emma and Remus moments. :D Did you predict where this was going? I've been waiting so very long to bring this piece of the puzzle in, but we're still not done with the mystery! Aaahhhh!
