tw: recreational drug use
It wound up being a longer night than Emma wanted. Fenrir returned just as he said he would but was in entirely different clothes. Emma didn't want to know the reason why and didn't dare ask. The lingering coppery scent that didn't melt into his cologne wasn't pleasant. She felt that if she asked, she would regret it. Ignorance would be beyond bliss.
Emma was surprised that Fenrir was helping her, suggesting that she moved into a different room. Much to the overnight staff's ire, he helped Emma move her things into the next room over. The configuration was different, and it made her feel a little better. The new room felt marginally safer. To ensure there wouldn't be issues, Fenrir placed the extra furniture in the room she vacated. He was adamant that she would be given no problems with the new arrangement. Emma wasn't too sure.
It was possibly one of the more stranger nights Emma had. She had spent several months with two werewolves and a dog Animagus, but this topped the list of weirdest nights. There was something innately wrong about the nighttime and spending time with Fenrir. She was wrestling with herself fiercely, frustrated that such traitorous feelings kept breaking through her rational thoughts. Having Fenrir there didn't help, even if he mostly kept to himself. As much as she wanted to, Emma couldn't convince herself to try and tell him to leave. She had a feeling Fenrir wouldn't anyway, especially since he planned to ransack Ward's office once she fell asleep. He was under the strong impression that there were more memories hidden, and he planned to literally sniff them out.
"Just curious, what were you planning on doing with the knife?" Fenrir had asked Emma idly as she struggled to fall asleep. He sat on the opposite side of the room underneath the windows, reading a book he had found in Ward's office. It felt too domestic for Emma's liking.
"What are you talking about?" Emma asked, reaching out to poke the jar of blue flames that she had been able to conjure after Fenrir found her a jar. They were multiple tiny flames, but they served their purpose. It was fortunate they were in a magical facility so she could do something for herself. She had several people she could blame magic on, and she wasn't above blaming anyone anymore. Emma watched the way the flames danced, casting their strange blue glow across the room. The light bounced prettily off the stark white walls, Emma mused.
Fenrir looked up from his book, giving Emma the third successive look that night that told her he thought she was stupid. "Really?"
Emma huffed, rolling onto her back and crossing her arms. "I dunno," she said. The ceiling made her less annoyed. It was plain and smooth. It wasn't rocky like her current situation. "Sirius gave it to me. And why were you going through my things?"
"I was curious to see what you actually had. I was wondering what charms were added to your bag, and I was surprised to find there weren't many," Fenrir said conversationally. "He didn't even show you how to use it?" he added after a moment.
"No, because he had to leave, no thanks to you."
"If he didn't insist on trying to play the hero, he wouldn't have had to leave."
"He thought he was protecting me."
"Did a wonderful job of doing that, didn't he?"
Emma turned her head to shoot Fenrir a glare. "It's your fault for being an absolute arse."
Fenrir closed the book slowly and set it aside, his eyebrows raising. "Is that so?"
"Yes! Who sends fourteen-year-old girls absolutely cryptic messages to meet them in nearby gardens with absolutely no explanation? And then decides to find said girl somewhere else 'just to talk?' Fenrir, that's bloody weird, and you know it."
"Not that strange when you need to be discreet," Fenrir said with a slight shrug. "You have got a lot to learn, Rabbit. Especially now. Besides, you turn fifteen in under two months."
"Why now?" Emma asked sharply, choosing to ignore that he knew when her birthday was. She turned back on her side, annoyed. "You have yet to give me any explanation of anything."
"Because you need the entire picture to understand. I'm not explaining myself twice."
"So I'm forced to wait until you decide I'm allowed to know?"
"You're forced to wait until I have everything," he said, leaning towards her, an amused smile on his face. "I doubt you want to have to go through what you went through multiple times."
Emma could only manage a sneer that she was sure rivaled Draco's signature expression before turning over to face away from Fenrir. It was a mistake she would never make again around him. She startled at the sudden press of cold metal against her throat, but Fenrir held her tight to prevent herself from getting hurt. The werewolf was a silent killer, and Emma knew better. A low growl rolled up her throat as he laughed. Of course, he would find it funny.
"Too easy," Fenrir chuckled, holding the blade right where it was.
"Rather cruel to use a witch's own weapon against her, is it not?" Emma challenged.
"Only if she still had it in her hand, but I knew where to find it," Fenrir said, flipping the knife so she could take the handle. Emma had half a mind to stab him with the knife the moment she had it in her hand. "Do you even know how to use it? Your dog clearly knew not to skimp out. This is one of the better ones I've come across."
Emma was quiet for a moment before letting out a bitter, "No." Fenrir seemed to pity her and took the time to walk her through opening and closing the knife without cutting herself. Everything else she would have to figure out on her own.
"This is one of the first things pups learn when they're old enough to hunt," Fenrir said, sounding almost disappointed. "I'm surprised your father never bothered to teach you and allowed you to rely so much on magic."
"Probably because I'm not going out hunting," Emma said dryly.
"Still a good thing for you to know," Fenrir insisted.
"Then why didn't you teach me before?"
"You weren't old enough."
Emma desperately wanted to make a comment and decided sleeping was a much better use of her time. Fenrir was annoying. He seemed to determine that Emma wasn't sleeping anytime soon and decided to go through Ward's office, bored of trying to read. He left with only the warning to keep the knife on her person and not in her bag.
Fenrir had been onto something when she woke up that morning and had her bag searched by the morning staff. She didn't want to know what would have happened if they came across the knife. No amount of insisting Dumbledore said that wasn't permittable was enough to convince them to stop. Her entire bag was confiscated except for her coin purse. It was humiliating being berated by people who had little sympathy for her situation because of what she was. She didn't expect the stigma of being a werewolf to extend so far down that adults felt comfortable calling a teenager a monster. If Emma didn't experience it before leaving Hogwarts, it would have hurt more than it did. Still, it left a bitter taste in her mouth.
She wasn't grateful that she kept her notebook and quill separate. It was just something she would have to carry with her all the time. Emma didn't waste any time in leaving the children's home that morning. She hid her notebook and quill in her jeans' waistband to hide underneath her shirt and shoved the knife in her pocket. Emma felt like a proper rebel.
York suddenly seemed so much different to her when she stepped beyond the gate of Saint Nicholas's. Her head was still pounding, but she had dealt with worse. It was the nauseating cramping of her stomach that had her more concerned. She was going to give her father a piece of her mind for that moment of pure humiliation with Fenrir.
The area was much easier to navigate since she finally remembered it. She knew the streets like the back of her hand from all of her previous adventuring. The idea of having her own Marauder's Map of York almost seemed like a brilliant idea. She was a little shaky in the actual city area, but she found the café she was meeting her father quickly. Remus looked delighted to see her until he saw the look on her face and took in the noticeable absence of her bag.
"Rough night?" Remus asked carefully as he stood from his table to greet Emma.
Emma just grumbled into his chest in response as she walked into his arms. She felt much better being held close, and it hit her all at once just how tired she was. "I don't know if rough even remotely covers how the past twenty-four hours have been," Emma murmured, snuggling closer.
"Where's your bag? You're not meant to leave it anywhere."
"Ah, but that would mean I have a bag to leave," Emma said darkly, leaning back to look up at her father. "Like I said, rough doesn't begin to cover it."
Trying to explain everything that happened in a remotely cohesive manner directly correlated to how scattered Emma's brain was. There was no structure to her words, and she was sure she repeated herself several times. She was prone to having too many thoughts, but now she had far more than before. It wasn't a comfortable feeling.
Remus listened patiently to Emma, nursing his cup of tea as he allowed her to ramble. He had a gift for processing her endless streams of thought. Emma was grateful that he could decipher what she was trying to say.
"If I didn't know who I was before, I really don't think I know now," Emma finished, rubbing her temples.
Remus studied Emma for a moment, looking thoughtful. He set his cup of tea down in front of him, crossing her arms and leaning back in his chair. "I know this is a huge risk, and you wouldn't be able to stay," he said slowly, "but do you want to come home for a little bit?"
Emma had never said yes to something so quickly in her life.
The overwhelming relief Remus felt of having Emma back at home was worth every ounce of risk he was taking. It was dangerous, and the Ministry sent people to check on him without warning when he wasn't working, but he couldn't take it anymore. He could see the rapid escalation of Emma's panic, and once his mind was made up, nothing was stopping him.
He was distressed by the entire situation. Everything they had figured out had been turned entirely upside down in one fell swoop. Any plan they had was utterly obliterated. The new plan was that there was no plan, and it didn't sit well with Remus. Dumbledore and Severus had both been right about what happened with Emma, and Remus was starting to feel that his theory was correct as well. Not only was there an extraordinary amount of care to keep her hidden, but there was just as much care in keeping her oblivious.
Remus had no idea how Emma was holding herself together as well as she was. He had already unraveled at the seams at least eight times just during her explanation of the previous night's events. It was too much for an adult to handle; he couldn't imagine how it was as a teenager.
He was not surprised when Emma wanted to sleep after more than happily enjoying a homecooked meal. The dark circles around her eyes had him under the impression she hadn't been sleeping much, if at all. Truthfully, he was grateful that she wanted to sleep because he needed time to process his own thoughts. Besides, he would never pass up the opportunity to have a cuddle. Emma was such an incredible source of comfort for him, and he liked to think he was the same for her.
Rather than going to her room, Emma promptly dropped herself into his bed. Remus dutifully settled himself into his bed, taking his customary position of leaning back against the headboard, and Emma followed. With a sleepy smile, she curled into his side, tucking her head right underneath his chin, and promptly fell asleep.
"When did we pick up our missing girl?"
Remus looked up at Elara with the first genuine smile he had in weeks. "A few hours ago," he said, kissing the top of Emma's head. "I couldn't stand it anymore. I'll have to bring her back out soon because I have work."
"Call out," Elara insisted. "She missed you."
"I wish I could. And it's the quickest she's ever cuddled with me, too," Remus said, gently adjusting Emma to a more comfortable position with a chuckle. "She keeps getting herself in the worst possible positions to sleep because she wants to be close. Poor thing hasn't been this anxious in a while. The guilt she feels over everything…I wish I could get her to understand that none of what's happened the past month is her fault."
"Because she grew attached to Fenrir when she was younger, and she knows the truth about him now?"
Remus nodded. "That's exactly why."
"It's understandable," Elara said, stepping into the room and sitting at the end of Remus's bed. "I think it's a natural cycle when it comes to Fenrir. I know I went through it."
"So did I, but she's not going to understand that," Remus sighed. "She feels like she's betraying me. She's very aware of what Fenrir is, but she's afraid that she won't be able to separate those feelings." Remus looked up at Elara and took a good look at her. "Your shift ran much longer than usual, and you look like shit. What happened?"
"Well, imagine my surprise when the emergency call was for Broderick Ward. It appears the lovely director of Saint Nicholas Children's Home managed to become Fenrir's toy. That's why I had to leave so quickly last night – perks of working with 'dangerous bites.' I guarantee it's not the last attack we see from Fenrir in the next few months."
"What did Fenrir do to him?" Remus asked curiously.
"Oh, you know, the usual, biting, scratching…left his face surprisingly intact. The rest of him? Eh…he'll manage because it can all be covered. I was rather impressed that Ward's face was mostly untouched, considering Fenrir loves ruining faces more than anything, the bastard. Ward nearly lost both eyes, though. That was fun. Wound up being able to save the other."
Remus gave a slight snort. "Going for the eyes was a good touch. That would make sense," Remus said with a one-armed shrug. "Can't say I can be too fussed by it."
Elara looked at Remus in alarm and glanced at Emma, eyes narrowing slightly. "What did Ward do to her?"
"What makes you think Ward did something to her?"
"You're disgusted by Fenrir. For you to find something worthwhile about what he's done…the only explanation is it has something to do with Emma. Spill, Remus Lupin."
By the time Remus finished telling Elara everything Emma had told him, she wore a look of pure revulsion on her face. Elara looked between Remus and Emma's sleeping form and shook her head, shaking with rage.
"She was a child – she's still a child," Elara spat angrily. "He locked her in a bewitched fucking room just because he was angry with her because of something Fenrir told her to do? I should've let him lose both eyes, make him see how absolutely bloody terrifying it is to be left in darkness. And they took her bag today because she had 'contraband?' Absolute bollocks."
"It would have looked too suspicious if someone realized. The fact you're even still in St. Mungo's is a miracle," Remus sighed. "You did the right thing. Although I agree – he should have lost both eyes. As for Emma's things…it's not much that was lost, thankfully. I'll be letting Dumbledore know. I'm not letting her leave without having something else to eat. As long as she can leave during the day, she can work around things. I just worry that they'll cut off her access to the outside world."
A deep frown crossed Elara's face as her brows knitted together. "I wasn't sure how I felt about Emma getting any of her memories back, but I think she needs them. It sounds like a lot more makes sense to her, which is important if she's going to protect herself. Knowledge is clearly power in this case. If Fenrir is going through this effort for her to know everything, there's a reason."
"That's yet another one of my concerns. It sounds like he grew attached to her, too, and she knows it," Remus said bitterly. "I knew he would take advantage of the situation, but not like this."
"He's trying to keep her safe," Elara said. "If he wasn't, he would have hurt her already. But from what?"
"He won't tell her. And just because he hasn't hurt her doesn't mean he won't."
"No, of course not, but until he finds a reason to cause her any real harm, she'll be fine for now," Elara pointed out. She sighed at the look on Remus's face. "I don't like it any more than you do, Remus. Her interactions with him have all been intimidation tactics. Now he's trying to show her what he's like with the pack. Well, at least when he's not in one of his moods. He's going to try and manipulate her to try and see things his way, try and gain her trust. It might not be right away, but she'll see right through it. Emma's a brilliant girl, Remus – you know that. You have to trust that she'll know what to do."
Remus gave a slight nod. He knew that Emma was smart, had never had doubts about it, but he didn't like not knowing what was happening. Remus lived on plans and on logic, but there was none. He couldn't help Emma like he needed, and he was starting to feel more and more useless. Remus pulled Emma a little tighter, burying his nose in her hair.
"She's going to need time to work through her feelings, Remus," Elara said gently. "It's a lot for her to take in, and I have no doubt it's only going to get harder. She grew up with a much different Fenrir than even we got to see. I think, right now, our best bet is to let things continue in the direction that they're going. Keeping her in environments she feels safe is going to be important."
"And if she doesn't work through her feelings?"
"Remus, don't be such a pessimist. You know that she will; don't be stupid. Fenrir is all pretty words and false promises, and she's young, so she'll fall for it – you need to let her," Elara said, holding her hand up when Remus made to protest. "Listen to me - at the end of the day, Emma is always going to remember this – this exact moment. You are willing to risk everything for her, and she'll understand that. Remus, I promise you with everything that I have, you are never going to lose your baby girl."
"I don't know what I would do without her," Remus admitted softly.
"You won't have to," Elara smiled. "Now, on a more interesting and slightly happier note, you mentioned that she said she did ballet?"
"She did," Remus nodded. "Makes a lot of her little quirks make sense, doesn't it?"
"Because she'll run through exercises without knowing it when she's pacing?" Elara asked, chuckling at Remus's nod. "I noticed it a while ago but didn't want to point it out and make her self-conscious of it. Do you think it's something she would want to do again?"
They both fell silent as Emma stirred, her brow furrowing in her sleep from whatever dream she was having. Remus sighed, cradling her head to his chest until Emma finally relaxed again. He looked up and shot Elara a look at the curious expression on her face. "Elara Douglas, I swear I will curse you all the way into the furthest possible place I can if you say a word."
"I'm not going to say anything," Elara said in amusement. "Just surprised you've decided to let Moony out to play a little more just to try and soothe bad dreams. It's sweet. Never thought I would see the day that Remus Lupin took advantage of being a werewolf."
"I'm not fond of it," Remus muttered, "but that's the third one she's had so far since being here. If I can project something good for her, then I will. Turns out that the sun means a lot for her, too."
"She's dreaming of the dark, isn't she?" Elara asked before giving Remus a funny look. "Merlin's saggy tits, you've taken it one step further, and you're using Soleil to see what she's seeing? Who are you, and what have you done with Remus? I think I need to bring you to St. Mungo's to make sure it's really you."
"Oh, shut up," Remus huffed. "And it's not the first time I've done it. But I'm certainly never going to tell her that." He rolled his eyes at Elara's surprised look. "I don't want to talk about it; I'm not proud of it at all. As for ballet? I think she does, but she won't say it because she doesn't want me spending money on her."
"Well, there's only one way to find out," Elara shrugged. "And she can't say a word if I'm the one who pays for it."
TMCTMCTMC
Emma felt that suffering through Apparition was worth going home for a little bit. Leaving was the worst possible feeling in the world, but she felt as refreshed as she possibly could. She had been delighted to see Elara and was eternally grateful for whatever potion cocktail she put together to ease her headache.
She had felt optimistic until they had lunch, and Remus brought up the upcoming full moon. Emma did not like that Snape would be the one to make the Wolfsbane Potion again, and nothing would convince her that it was a good idea. It was Snape's fault that anyone knew her father was a werewolf in the first place. It might have been Dumbledore's punishment for Snape for causing so many issues, but Emma hated it with every fiber of her being. Her mood soured considerably and only grew worse at discovering that Fenrir was spot-on with his comment the day before. At least she had been home when the inevitable happened.
"Two werewolves! I was with two werewolves all day!" Emma said in aggravation, glaring at both Elara and Remus accusingly. "And you both let me find out from Fenrir Greyback that I missed my potions? I literally do not ever want to hear him bring up my period ever again, thank you."
Her tantrum was not dignified, but she was quickly won over by a quick cuddle before having to leave.
Emma forgot how stuffy and hot the children's home could get after spending most of her day within the cottage's cool walls. She had never realized just how much Remus did just to make sure she felt comfortable until she was sweating in her room at Saint Nicholas's.
The new room had all three windows facing directly into the room, pulling in the breeze. It helped ease the hot air out as the sun dropped, but it was still stifling. To Emma's annoyance, her door was promptly closed and locked at around ten that night. At least with the door open, the faint breeze would blow through and cool her room down.
She couldn't understand how the children's home could be staffed by witches and wizards, and yet the building was so hot. Her frustration only grew when she got down on the floor to peer under the door for movement only to find the staff lounge had been charmed cool.
"Wankers!" Emma shouted under the door at whoever could possibly be listening. "This is cruel and unusual punishment!" No one responded.
Out of sheer desperation, Emma peeled her clothing off her damp skin. Elara's suggestion to purchase a wireless bralette was sheer perfection. Pairing the top with a pair of shorts was as much clothing as she was willing to wear. It was comfortable and kept her covered so she could melt a little less.
Between melting, Emma kept up writing to Remus in her notebook and reading. She had been pleased to find a few of her comfort books in the library on the second floor, and she gladly pilfered them for her entertainment. It was evident she would need it. The downside of her nap meant that she was very awake. Unfortunately, Remus needed an early night for work the next morning. With a heavy sigh, Emma cleared the notebook and went to pick up her book again.
A bristling noise from outside drew her attention towards the windows, and she let out a sharp gasp. Having memories of Fenrir in any capacity was not doing her any favors. Soleil seemed to embrace Fenrir, apparently just as confused as Emma was over the entire situation and didn't respond like normal. Emma felt entirely betrayed by herself, and she shot Fenrir a glare.
"You are literally in a bush," Emma snapped, slamming her book closed. "What is wrong with you?"
"I was enjoying the view."
Emma became very aware of what she was wearing and very quickly. She yanked her sheet up to cover herself. "Show's over, you bastard," Emma snarled. "Will you leave?"
"Wasn't planning on it."
Emma growled; her dresser was across the room. If she had her wand, she would just summon a shirt, but she didn't, and she was still useless with wandless magic. Her blue flames weren't going to be much help.
"Come out with me," Fenrir said suddenly.
"Why?"
"It's a beautiful night, and I have a feeling you'll be up for a while considering you took a little field trip," Fenrir said with a pointed look. "I guarantee it's nicer out here than in there."
Emma considered it for a moment. He had a point, as annoying as it was, and she wouldn't be sleeping for a few more hours, if at all.
"All right, well, could you at least…leave so I can get changed?" The amused look that crossed Fenrir's face told her that he wasn't doing anything of the sort. "You're so fucking annoying," Emma growled, gathering the blanket around her body so she could cross the room to her dresser to get changed.
"And you're no fun. Not often I get to look at something as pretty as you."
Emma leaned back to look out the double windows to give Fenrir an incredulous look. "You are absolutely disgusting. Did you do this shit when I was younger?"
"Never. But now you've got curves. They're nice to look at."
"Oh my God," Emma said as she pulled a shirt over her head. "Being perved on by a werewolf was not high up on my list of things to do this summer, thank you." Emma pulled on a pair of jeans and glared at Fenrir, crossing her arms. "You know what, I've changed my mind. I'm staying here. I'd rather melt."
"Come on," Fenrir insisted. "I'll stop. I swear."
"I really don't know that I believe that."
"You have my word."
Emma was very dubious of that claim. "Where are you thinking of going?"
"The river. It's out of the way, and it'll be cooler."
Somehow that was enough to convince Emma to let Fenrir help her out the window to go to the river. No one checked on her once her light was out, and she wasn't too concerned even if they did.
Being at the river was undoubtedly tranquil. It was peaceful enough to still her thoughts for a moment. The air was much cooler, and she wasn't anywhere near as hot as she was indoors. Even Soleil was quiet, appeased by being outdoors and surrounded by the city's small bits of nature. She felt comfortable enough to take off her boots and cuff her jeans to dip her feet into the water. Fenrir seemed much calmer than before, and Emma felt relatively safe around him, something she swore would be impossible.
It was strange that she didn't feel the need to fill the silence with Fenrir, much like how she didn't need to fill it with her father. Perhaps it had come with age as she had always felt the need to talk to Fenrir as a child. Maybe she felt much more stable in her opinions and how people felt about her. She wasn't entirely sure. Emma swung her legs lazily in the murky water, watching the way the waxing moon rippled in its reflection. Where was she meant to go from here? What were the next steps?
"You're awfully quiet," Fenrir said, his gaze sharp as he stared down at Emma sitting at his side.
Emma gave a slight shrug. "I don't have anything to say."
"I would think you have a lot to say now that you've got some of your thoughts back in your head," he said, tapping Emma's had with a finger.
Emma huffed out a laugh. "All I do is think," Emma said, holding her hand up to check for the tremor. Her tremors mellowed out considerably after being with her father. "This seems to be an issue all over again, though."
"I couldn't stop that completely," Fenrir said, inclining his head towards Emma's hand. "I did what I could for you."
"I suppose I should thank you for that, at least," Emma muttered. "But why didn't you do more for me? Fenrir, what was the purpose of me not knowing any of this?"
"You were never meant to forget who I was. You trusted me, and then when I saw you again, you didn't. You were never one to easily be influenced, so I knew that didn't come from your father."
"But everything else?"
"I told you, as soon as I have everything, you'll understand. I can almost guarantee that you'll see why you need me and what loyalty means."
"Fenrir, there is absolutely nothing you show me that will ever make me need you again," Emma said sharply.
"Oh, you will when Jude decides he's tired of waiting," Fenrir drawled. "Which I imagine will be very soon."
Emma fell quiet at the mention of Jude. "You said his name was Judas yesterday? Is that true?"
"Ironic name, isn't it? Judas Alexander Nickels. Fitting name for the bastard," Fenrir said, casting Emma a thoughtful look. "You don't know anything about him, do you?"
"None of us do," Emma admitted. "Dad doesn't, Grandpa doesn't, Papa doesn't –"
"Papa?"
"Sirius is Papa."
"Didn't paint him as a 'Papa' but all right…"
"He's my Papa, thank you," Emma said in annoyance. She watched as Fenrir reached into his front pocket of the flannel he was wearing. He pulled out what Emma was sure was a joint, holding it between his fingers, and she arched an eyebrow at Fenrir curiously. "Really?"
"Good night for it. Don't even tell me you're so uptight that a little weed gets your knickers in a bunch," Fenrir said, his gaze turning to Emma curiously. He studied Emma closely for a moment, and a surprised look crossed his face in understanding. "You smoke."
Emma immediately flushed, gnawing on her lower lip.
No.
"Yes," she found herself saying stupidly. She ran her hands down her face as she eyed the joint. "It's been a while."
Fenrir nodded, amused by the sudden turn of events. "With or without tobacco?"
"Without," Emma said. "Won't touch it otherwise."
"Magic or Muggle?"
"Depends on the strain for magic. Prefer Muggle because I know what I'm getting into."
"Well, well," Fenrir said, digging back into his pocket to procure a second joint. "You're in luck. First one's free," he said, leaning towards her with a wolfish smile.
Emma's eyes flicked between the joint in Fenrir's hands and the werewolf, not sure she believed him. To her utter horror, he laughed – that same bark-like laugh he had in Hogsmeade, one that sounded of genuine mirth.
"I'm kidding. Besides, I think you need it," he said, shoving the joint into Emma's hand. "Never would have guessed a sweet little thing like you would smoke."
Emma knew she should hand the joint back to Fenrir, but she dared to hold it between her teeth, eyes narrowed slightly. "If you knew me, you would know there's nothing sweet about me," Emma said, raising her eyebrows. She nodded to the joint in his hand. "Need a light?" she offered. Fenrir, of course, accepted with even further amusement.
"That explains why you can't make the flames bigger," Fenrir said, taking a hit as he watched Emma.
"Yes, well, it's a neat little party trick," Emma said, taking a hit, holding it, and letting out her breath in a slow plume of smoke.
Smoking weed with Fenrir Greyback was also not on her list of things to do for the summer, but it at least made more sense. She couldn't remember the last time she had smoked at all. Sometime before exams? She recalled lazing around the lake with Justin trying to hide the smoke and giggling for seemingly hours. Perhaps it was when her father caught her up in the Astronomy tower smoking, and he decided to join her. That was a good night. Time had blended so closely together while at Hogwarts that she wasn't even sure.
She began to giggle as a new thought suddenly took hold. "Oh, the Prophet would really have a good time with this one. I can see the headline – Emma Lupin Found Smoking Weed with Werewolf Fenrir Greyback Near River. Should sell the bloody story myself, considering what they've been writing. Might fetch a few Galleons for that one."
"Not Emelyn Nickels?" Fenrir questioned.
"Of course not, haven't you seen? Depends on the day – Emma Lupin when I'm a convict; Emelyn Nickels when they try to make me look innocent."
"God, that always was a stupid name."
"Emelyn?"
"Dreadful fucking name to give a child. Jude's stupid fucking idea."
"Yes, well, I was the one who had to live with it, though Dad's isn't better…Remus Lupin," Emma said, allowing herself to laugh as Fenrir snickered. "I think Dad got it far worse than I."
"His name at least makes sense – he's a werewolf."
"Yes, because you made him one, you arse. Bet you hard yourself a right little giggle when you realized."
Fenrir gave a slight shrug, "I might have. Fitting name for a werewolf. Emelyn Theodosia is not."
"And my name now?"
"Emma Hope sounds a hell of a lot better than Emelyn Theodosia. Trying to say it is like having balls in your mouth."
"Know a lot about having balls in your mouth, eh Fenrir?" Emma asked, a gleeful smirk on her face as she looked over at Fenrir and snorting as he rolled his eyes. There was a hint of a smile on his lips, and Emma felt she had won a small victory.
"Didn't know you had a sense of humor," he noted.
"Funny how that happens," Emma said sagely. "It's like I've got a mind of my own. Imagine that."
Fenrir inclined his head, a slight smile on his face, and silence fell for a moment. They never did finish their conversation, and Emma took a long hit off her joint. She wasn't done. It was longer than she should've taken, nearly forcing her to cough, but she pushed through. She genuinely hoped her summer couldn't get any stranger than this.
"None of us know anything about Jude," Emma said slowly. "I've tried to figure out who he is, but there's nothing."
"That's on purpose," Fenrir said after a moment. "Went from Judas to Jude, thought it would be easiest, and that's how he went. Never gave a middle name to anyone if he could help it. It's a wonder he never changed his surname just to try and hide. He didn't want people to know what he truly was."
"And what's that?"
An amused smile crossed Fenrir's face. "A Muggle-born."
Emma frowned slightly at that piece of information. "Jude's a Muggle-born? How do you know all of this, anyway?"
"Research, Rabbit, research," Fenrir said, sounding almost business-like in his tone. Emma could almost see him as a sly and charismatic salesperson, and she peered at the joint in her hand. Maybe he was. "I like to know what I'm getting into before getting into it. I wouldn't have gotten so far if I didn't."
"But Ellis said –"
"Ellis is full of shit and can't be trusted. His wife has more balls than he does and far more sense. The boy, whatever his name is, is like Sage. Persephone's very like her father."
"Sage has been kind to me," Emma commented quietly, pulling her feet out of the water to pull her knees up.
"Because she actually likes you. Can you trust her?" Fenrir shrugged. "I can't say either way. But you put your trust in the wrong people."
"Fenrir, how was I to know about Persephone? No one bloody told me that I grew up with her, which – by the way, is one of the things I can't recall."
"And you will."
"But that doesn't explain what you said before, about Jude being tired of waiting," Emma said. "What does that mean?"
"Think about that for a minute, Rabbit. You're smart," Fenrir said. "In fact – you have told him straight to his face. The look on his face was priceless…"
Emma didn't want to think about it, didn't want to entertain the thought that she had been right the entire time. Her stomach sank.
"There's never been anything wrong with Jude," Emma said, not bothering to phrase it as a question. Fenrir inclined his head slightly, and Emma nodded. She could live with knowing that bit of truth, even if she didn't know what it meant.
But then Emma's stomach knotted tightly, and bile rose up her throat at a sudden thought that sprang to mind. What if they missed something so glaringly obvious? What if things could have been different?
"Fenrir…if Jude has been fine this entire time...does that mean nothing was ever wrong with my mother?"
Fenrir was quiet and leaned back on his free hand, staring up at the moon. It was a long while before he answered, and Emma could only stare at him, not sure that she wanted to know the answer. He took a hit of his joint, casting his gaze across the water, letting out the smoke slowly.
"Took you long enough."
