Fenrir brought her back to the children's home just as he said he would. If she thought being moved around at the cottage was weird, falling asleep at the river and waking up in bed was weirder. She was surprised to see a new rock sitting next to her box of rocks – a trinket from the night. She was even more surprised to find her notebook, quill, and knife tucked under her pillow. Fenrir had thought of everything.

Her weekend was a series of the same events. Somehow Remus's single day at the Ministry turned into all weekend. Elara still had work, and Ward still didn't give her the Wolfsbane Potion. By Sunday, she realized it was on purpose, and she decided she wouldn't ask anymore; she knew she wouldn't get it. She knew that she should tell her father, but she didn't. It was better that he didn't worry, but it was slowly taking its toll on her.

Emma would sleep throughout the day and try to entertain herself with the television in the children's living room. She didn't mind as the younger children had an obsession with Disney movies, and as the "nice" resident teenager, she was in charge. It was a power she didn't take lightly, and the happy squeals at each movie pick amused her. She looked forward to the day she could torture her father with yet another Disney movie. However, if she had to watch Beauty and the Beast one more time, she would lose it. There were only so many times she could watch dancing and singing magic utensils.

Out of curiosity, Emma finally decided to venture into the computer room when it was vacated. She never bothered trying to use a computer before, and she found herself intrigued. It had Emma tempted to write to Justin and ask him what he knew about computers. They were fascinating devices, and the more Emma played around with the device, the more curious she became. She definitely needed to talk to Justin about computers. It didn't seem like something Hermione would be too interested in.

When night arrived, Emma would slip out of her room to head towards the river. On Saturday night, she met Fenrir there. On Sunday, he met her half-way. Both nights he brought her something to eat from one of the local takeaways. The river was where they stayed until Emma felt ready to leave, neither saying much.

Their conversation was the same both nights. Fenrir would ask if Emma had taken the potion that day, she would give him a look and tell him no, and he would ask her why. Emma didn't understand why he kept asking her when he knew. She wanted to mention what he did to Ward still but didn't bring it up. Emma wasn't sure she wanted to know the details. Both nights he passed her a joint to help ease the effects of the upcoming moon. If he didn't, Emma wasn't entirely sure she would even get to sleep at night, and she needed a lot of it.

Monday brought back a sense of normalcy to her life for a moment, a small reminder that she could still do magic. As she was getting ready to head out, she was startled to find a massive brown owl sitting on her windowsill. She let out a long breath. Hogwarts letters were going out.

She sighed as she took the letter from the owl and watched as it flew off.

Emelyn Nickels
Saint Nicholas Children's Home
Room 1 of the Staff Quarters

York

"Well, that's unfortunate," Emma said to herself as she sat heavily on her bed. It was just like the first time she received her Hogwarts letter.

"Is that a Hogwarts letter you have in your hand, dear?"

Emma looked over at her doorway and smiled at the familiar face peering in at her. "Mrs. Bryce," Emma said. "How are you?"

"I think the better question is how are you?"

"All right, I suppose," Emma replied. She lifted the envelope to show the woman. "Do you suppose it's a clerical error?"

Mrs. Bryce surveyed Emma closely, and Emma felt like she was under a microscope. "I have something for you. Professor Snape had stopped by as I was leaving Ward's office," she said, giving Emma a small smile. Emma swore she would cry seeing the vial in her hand full of the blue potion. "I'm very sorry about what happened."

Mrs. Bryce stepped into the room and sat down next to Emma. She handed her the vial of Wolfsbane, and Emma downed it quickly, shuddering at the taste. Emma swore that would be the first thing she would change about the potion. She gave a slight shrug as she sat the vial down.

"We knew it was a risk. Well, I only found out in the past year, but all the same," Emma said quietly. "Did you know what my dad was? Before everything?"

"He disclosed his condition to me well before we started working on the paperwork," she said gently. "Remus was worried that his condition would keep him from being able to have you as his. But then, I suppose you always were, weren't you?"

"You know about that?" Emma asked.

Mrs. Bryce nodded. "I'm part of the decision-making board for your case. He submitted copies of entries of your mother's diary this weekend as evidence in your case. It's opened up an entirely different problem considering Mr. Sirius Black's history, but we've seen worse."

"The daughter of a werewolf and an escaped convicted murderer," Emma said with a bitter laugh. "I'm sure that's caused some interesting reactions. And of course, that's not even factoring my condition, as well."

"The responses have…varied," Mrs. Bryce said carefully. "I wanted to let you know that I'm working on behalf of you and your father. We have character witnesses that have gladly stepped in, and it's going to be a fight, but I'm going to help make sure you go home."

"You don't care that he's a werewolf?"

"If I did, I never would have supported him adopting you a few years ago," Mrs. Bryce said, gently bumping Emma's shoulder with hers. "Right from the moment I met him, he made it very evident how much he adores you. No child deserves to be taken away from a parent, especially one so devoted."

"How long are you thinking? If it's going to be a fight?"

"Not until sometime next year," Mrs. Bryce said, resting a hand on Emma's knee. "Between gathering evidence and working around anti-werewolf prejudice, it's not going to be easy. Your case is going to have to be put in front of someone several times before a decision will be made."

"And even that's not guaranteed."

"You're not going to be stuck here forever. Dumbledore is working hard to get you moved somewhere more suitable."

"Do you know where?"

"Not yet, but the goal is for you to be moved sometime next week. There's an appointment that you're expected to tell your side of things, and Dumbledore wants you settled before then."

"And when will that be?"

"After the Quidditch World Cup on the fourth. The committee wants to see how you are with your father. Fairly straight-forward, just fact-finding before things move along."

Emma nodded. She forgot about the Quidditch World Cup coming up, only vaguely remembering that she saw it in the Prophet. A sigh of relief escaped her lips as the Wolfsbane finally started to settle in, and she didn't feel as ill as before.

"He's not going to give up, and as I've been pointing out, when your father adopted you, it created a life-long bond between you two. Remember, the words said then? Not even death will break that bond, and no amount of magic will ever destroy it. The fact you look exactly like him shows me that there's no doubt of who you belong to, that he took the chance to make you entirely his."

"It's like looking in a mirror…except he's quite tall, and I'm very short."

"Good things come in small packages, and I dare say you're the best thing that's ever happened to him," Mrs. Bryce said with a smile. "In other news, I have three first years I would like you to meet," she added.

"Three?" Emma said excitedly. "From here?"

"Three new first years coming right from this facility. They look like they'll be a sweet bunch. I thought it would be nice if they went to Hogwarts with a friend. You're going in your fourth year now?"

"Fourth year," Emma confirmed brightly.

"Merlin's beard, time flies. Do you want to meet them?"

"Is that even a question?"

Emma didn't even care that she met the three new first years in the reception room outside of Ward's office. She was so excited to meet them that nothing mattered. A wide smile broke on Emma's face when she noticed the red-headed girl amongst the three. She had been right after all. There was a tall boy with blonde hair and another girl with brown hair.

"Children, this is Emma Lupin. She'll be going into her fourth year this year," Mrs. Bryce said, winking at Emma. Mrs. Bryce looked at Emma thoughtfully. "Is it going to be Lupin-Black?"

"Just Lupin," Emma said with a laugh. "Emma Hope Lupin."

"You're magical?" blurted out the red-headed girl.

"I am," Emma nodded. "I'm it's nice to know that I was right about you. I think that's why you thought I seemed familiar when we met the other day." Emma looked over at Mrs. Bryce. "If I show them something, will you tell anyone at the Ministry?" Emma asked with a sheepish grin.

"Do you have a wand?" Mrs. Bryce questioned.

"No, it was broken," Emma said.

Mrs. Bryce gave Emma a sympathetic before turning around with a grin. "Then I know nothing. You have no wand. Who's to say it's not accidental?"

Emma grinned at the three children in front of her and decided to conjure up the blue flames. She would have to thank her father for that one and then ask him to show her something else to do as a fun party trick. The looks of pure awe on each small face in front of her made her simple bit of magic well worth it.

"That's amazing!" said the boy, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

"Can we learn to do that?" asked the brown-haired girl. "I want to learn now!"

"I can teach you when we get to school," Emma said. "When you have your wands, it'll be much easier. It's first year level magic."

"But you did it without a wand!" said the redhead in awe. "Can we do things without wands?"

Emma looked over at Mrs. Bryce for guidance. "You can," Mrs. Bryce said slowly, "but I wouldn't recommend it until you've had training. Strictly speaking, you're not supposed to do magic outside of school, but Emma's situation is a little different."

"How did you do it without a wand, then? If you're not meant to do magic outside of school?" asked the boy, his head tilting slightly.

"Er, how much am I allowed to tell them, Mrs. Bryce?"

"They're Hogwarts students now. So long as you're careful around the other children, you can tell them anything you'd like."

Emma nodded and took a deep breath. "Well, I'm…God, this sounds weird to actually say out loud to someone other than my family, but I'm half-werewolf," she said, grimacing at the stunned looks on the three small faces in front of her.

"You're a werewolf?" asked the boy first. Emma had no doubt he would be a Gryffindor with how quickly he blurted out his question. Maybe Ravenclaw – he seemed inquisitive enough.

"What was your name again?" Emma asked. They had introduced themselves already, but Emma was too excited to have paid attention.

"It's…it's Brennan," he said shakily.

Emma smiled at Brennan. "I'm only half-werewolf. I'm a little different, but still human."

"Werewolves are scary!" said the brown-haired girl, throwing her hands up to her face to cover her eyes.

"Do I look scary to you?" Emma laughed, thoroughly amused. "And what was your name?"

The girl peered at Emma through her fingers and slowly lowered her hands. "Raewyn," she said, casting Emma a dubious look. "I suppose you don't look scary. You're rather short."

"Well, Raewyn, there are certainly…terrifying werewolves," Emma said carefully. She had been spending far too much time with a very dangerous werewolf, after all. "But we're not all scary. My father certainly isn't, and I can almost guarantee you wouldn't know that he was one. Did you know that I was when you met me?"

Raewyn considered it for a moment and then shook her head. Emma felt that Raewyn was going to be a Ravenclaw with her curious and calculating look. She could see the brown-haired girl trying to rationalize her thoughts, trying to determine if Emma's explanation made sense. "You don't seem like you'd be a werewolf at all."

"You might not have known at all if I didn't tell you," Emma said, looking over at Mrs. Bryce, grinning at her encouraging smile. This was the perfect teaching opportunity, and Emma was thrilled that Mrs. Bryce let her have it. This was one of the things Emma wanted to do with her life – remove the stigma of being a werewolf. She had three perfect candidates right in front of her to start making those changes.

"Do you…do you turn into a wolf?" the red-haired girl asked, still staring at Emma in awe. "The full moon is this week!"

"And your name?"

"Finley. Finn for short," she answered happily.

Emma was sure that Finn would be a Hufflepuff. There was something about members of Hufflepuff that radiated energy that said, "Hufflepuff." It was an odd thing to experience, and she always forgot to ask her father about it. She wondered if he felt the same with other Gryffindors. The only person who didn't fit Hufflepuff's energy, in the beginning, was Caspian, but he lived in a household with two Slytherins and a Ravenclaw. He blossomed in their shared house during his second year.

"I don't transform into a wolf, no," Emma said. "Apparently, I smell like a werewolf, though. Although, I'm not sure what exactly that means or what a werewolf is meant to smell like…"

Finn stepped closer to Emma and gave a subtle sniff of the air. "Peppermint!" she declared happily, and Emma burst into laughter. She had picked up a peppermint body wash on her last shopping trip. She had decided to use it that morning during her shower to annoy Fenrir, and the fact Finn picked up on the scent made her laugh. That was good – it meant it was a strong scent, and Fenrir would hate it. She hoped it didn't aggravate Remus's nose too much.

"Perhaps, you're right," Emma laughed. "I'll have to ask what a werewolf actually smells like."

"You said you're different, though?" Brennan asked. "What does that mean?"

"Well, I don't transform, but I have some of the same magic as a werewolf. I also get pretty sick around the full moon, like right now."

"Can you take anything for it?"

Mrs. Bryce gently grasped Emma's shoulder. "I think you've got a handle on this one," she said gently. "Professor McGonagall will be bringing them to Diagon Alley next week to pick up their things. If you haven't been moved yet, would you like to go with?"

"A day with Professor McGonagall in Diagon Alley? I wouldn't miss it," Emma said with a grin.

"I'll be sure to let her know then," Mrs. Bryce said, squeezing Emma's shoulder and waving to the three children. "Good luck, Emma."

Emma sat with the three first years for nearly an hour talking about herself and about Hogwarts. The three had so many questions, and she loved every second of it, even when their questions were personal. She didn't like having to explain why she was in the children's home again, but the three were outraged on her behalf. They were very curious to know what Remus was like, amazed to hear that he didn't sound like a werewolf at all.

"Maybe someday you'll be able to meet him," Emma said. "Maybe at King's Cross." She wished that she could say they would meet him in class.

"That's enough, Nickels," Ward said, opening his door and looking at the three first years before his gaze fell on her. Emma stared back for a moment and then cleared her throat, turning to her new friends.

"We talked about a lot," Emma said. "Mr. Ward's right. We need to keep some of the magic, yeah?" With a quick look at her watch, Emma made her retreat. She needed to meet up with her father at the park, and she was beyond excited.

Remus could barely say a word as Emma told him about the three first years. Emma had given him a quick hug and immediately launched into her story, ignoring the cup of coffee he had picked up for her. He sat down on the nearby bench with a sigh and shook his head fondly.

"Daddy, they were ssooo excited to learn about werewolves!" Emma said brightly. "Can you believe it? These are little first years, and they're going to come to Hogwarts and, well, they might start to believe their friends, but maybe not! Maybe these three are going to be the three to help me change things!"

Remus's expression was soft as he listened to Emma talk excitedly about her day. He wasn't sure what to think, but he had no doubt his daughter's heart was in the right place. It was often discussed that what she wanted to do would be difficult, but she was determined. He wouldn't dare ever try to take away that dream from her.

"Could you imagine? A world where people don't think terribly about werewolves? Or at least the stigma isn't there anymore?" Emma asked, finally plopping down on the bench next to Remus. She took the cup of coffee he had brought her and leaned her head on his shoulder with a content sigh. She felt amazing – like she could take on the world! "This is what I want to do with my life. Exactly what I did today."

"Perhaps you should be a teacher then," Remus suggested. "Keeps you out of trouble and out of the Ministry, at least."

"You act like I'm even going to be able to get a job in our world," Emma said sadly. "If I did get a job in our world, I would have to work at the Ministry. How else are laws going to get changed? Someone has to do it. Besides, I would never be as good a teacher as you."

"I think you would be a far better teacher than I," Remus said earnestly, tapping the end of Emma's nose with a finger.

"Absolutely not," Emma insisted. "I'm still gutted that you never signed the contract to come back. I would have loved having your class the entirety of the rest of my Hogwarts career. I never thought I would ever like Defense after having terrible professors."

An awkward and very unfamiliar silence fell, and Emma turned her head slowly to peer at her father, looking crestfallen. "You signed the contract," she said. "When?"

Remus sighed, pulling Emma's head closer to kiss her forehead. "The day before I resigned," he said. "I was going to show you before we settled in for the full moon…"

"You should have just stayed," Emma said. "You never should have left."

"If Severus didn't say anything, I might have stayed, but I was thoroughly convinced that I needed to leave. I wasn't sure that I wanted to risk having something like that happen again, but then the choice wasn't mine to make. It was better that I left. I could have killed all of you."

"But you didn't."

"I still hurt you."

"And we established that it was an accident and because of Papa. I wasn't afraid of you, and neither are the others."

"I know."

Emma's breath came out in short, frustrated bursts. "You should just come back! Fuck what the Ministry has to say!"

"Sweetheart –"

"No! You loved teaching! Dumbledore vouched for you once; he can vouch for you again!"

"Sweetheart, you know it's not that simple."

Emma immediately deflated, leaning against her father with a grumpy little huff that made him chuckle. "It should be that simple," Emma said sadly.

"I know," Remus said, rubbing Emma's arm. "Maybe someday."

Someday felt so impossible half the time, but Emma didn't dare tell her father that. She didn't need to be pessimistic after having such a good day.

"Daddy, have I told you that you're my best friend?" Emma suddenly asked after taking a long drink of her coffee.

Remus began to laugh, giving Emma's arm a squeeze. "You need a much younger best friend."

"But have I told you before?"

"I believe you told Moony that you're his best friend."

Emma gave Remus a small shove. "Don't be stupid," she grinned. "I mean it. Especially now. I can't imagine how hard all of this is for you."

"I'll be fine. It's you that I'm worried about. I had the time to work through my feelings. Your feelings are new all over again. What sort of father would I be if I didn't understand how much more difficult things are for you?"

"But –"

"Emma, please – I know that you love me. I promise that you don't need to remind me every single time."

"But –"

"My God, Emma," Remus laughed, taking Emma's face between his hands and kissing her forehead. "I swear to you that I understand. My sweet girl, you have by far the purest heart I have ever come across. It amazes me every day that such a huge heart comes from someone your size. You are the way you are despite everything, and that's remarkable. Greyback might have…he might have been there your entire life, but he didn't shape your heart. That's entirely you. And do you want to know a secret?"

"What?"

"I love that there's still more to learn about you. Am I scared? Of course. I'm your father, and I am terrified for you. Every time we have to part, all I do is worry until I see you next because at least when you're by my side, I know I can keep you safe. It's when you're out of sight that everything seems to happen," Remus said gently. He pressed another kiss to Emma's forehead before letting her go. "Elara and I were thinking that it might be a good idea for you to start seeing Dr. Wheeler again."

Emma gave Remus a slight pout. "I really don't want to," she muttered, "but I probably should, shouldn't I? I'm sure she'll have a fun time trying to work through this one. All those long talks decided to become a reality and all that…"

"You will never be alone," Remus reminded her. "Remember that."

It appeared that Remus had finally gotten ahold of Dumbledore as her bag was returned to her room by the time she made her way back. Curious, she went through and found that everything was left in it, but Emma had her doubts that her food was still safe. She was tempted to dig in, certainly hungry enough for what she had, but resisted. She would stop somewhere for food on the way to the river. Emma opened her coin purse and frowned.

Maybe she wouldn't. It wasn't the first time she went without.

The moment her door was locked for the night, Emma slipped out of her room. It was funny how it had become routine. She was mildly annoyed that she had to make the trip out to the river by herself, but she at least had her bag in tow. It was nice to not have to try and shove everything into the waistband of her jeans.

She realized how bizarre it was that she even had "a spot" with Fenrir, just like she had "a bench" and "a café" with Remus. Fenrir barely looked up from where he sat as she approached, focused more on the cigarette held between his fingers.

Emma took a moment to look at Fenrir. This version of Fenrir fit more like the image she was starting to form in her mind of the werewolf. The closer they got to the full moon, the more he seemed to settle into a particular look, confident, and with an air of superiority.

His very thick facial hair had more than grown in the past week, but he kept it trimmed close. Emma had been surprised to hear that he actually took regular showers and was surprisingly clean. It just seemed that her first few interactions with him in recent years were at unfortunate moments. The cologne he wore was purely for her benefit, but it seemed as though it probably benefited him wherever he was that day.

Fenrir generally dressed casually, but he was more dressed up than she had ever seen. Instead of his usual boots, he wore a pair of wingtip shoes paired with dark trousers. She lifted a brow at his overcoat and his fully unbuttoned shirt, wondering why he didn't just take the coat off. It was still disturbing to her how muscular and how incredibly hairy he was. She considered asking what his outfit was about but found she didn't care too much to ask.

"Oi, Wolf Man, I need a favor," Emma said, digging into her bag and tossing Fenrir a granola bar. "I need your nose."

Fenrir rolled his eyes, catching the bar with one hand. "You got your bag back?"

"It was back in my room when I got back earlier today," Emma said. "Don't know if I should trust any of it."

"You have good instincts," Fenrir said, holding his cigarette between his teeth as he opened the wrapper. "You haven't touched anything?"

Emma shook her head, dropping the bag on the ground next to Fenrir and sitting down. "Wasn't sure if it was worth trusting. Do you mind checking the rest for me? I doubt there's anything salvageable. I smelled one, but I couldn't figure out what it was I was smelling."

"Most likely the Polyjuice they decided to stick in these."

"Polyjuice?" Emma asked, her nose wrinkling. "Really? Are they aware that I can't take it?"

"You'll find that wizards are stupid. Often you can use that to your advantage."

"Even though I'm only half?"

"You heal faster, do you not?" Fenrir asked, stubbing out his cigarette. "You share some of the same traits as a regular werewolf?"

"Yes?"

"Then you can take advantage of that information," Fenrir sniffed the air, and his face twisted, his lips pulling back slightly in a sneer. "Why do you smell like that?"

"Oh! It's peppermint!" Emma said brightly. "You like it?"

Fenrir shot Emma a sideways glance but mostly ignored her as he continued checking through Emma's food. He handed Emma a granola bar. "They missed one. Might as well have it now that it's opened."

"And you're sure that it's fine?" Emma asked, giving the bar a dubious sniff. "What if your nose is broken because I smell nice. That and you smoke like a bloody chimney."

"Smoking does nothing for werewolves," Fenrir said matter of factly. "And you smell terrible, you brat."

"Good," Emma grinned, taking a bite of the granola bar in her hand and sighing at the amount of food that had been put aside. "Well, that's miserable. That's so much to throw out."

"Throw out? Why would you do that?"

"Because…they're bad?"

"It takes two seconds to reseal the packaging. Do you even realize how good these are to have? The things you can do with them? Need someone to forget something for a while? You give them one of these. The Polyjuice would eventually become ineffective, so that's not even an issue."

Emma picked up one of the bars, and a wide grin split on her face as she shoved it towards Fenrir. "Perfect – have one. Then maybe you'll forget about me and leave me alone."

Fenrir's nostrils flared with his annoyance. Emma was overly pleased with herself for pulling such a reaction from the werewolf. Anytime she bothered Fenrir, it was a good day for her, and she was having an incredibly good day.

"You had the potion today," Fenrir noted, his voice tight.

"I did," Emma said brightly.

"How?"

There was that commanding tone that Fenrir was using more frequently with her. It wasn't a tone of voice that Emma was fond of. "Someone from the Ministry came by today and ran into who made it for me," she said quietly, accepting the joint Fenrir passed to her. She fought had to suppress her eye roll as he swapped his cigarette for a joint.

"I hear that you know how to make the Wolfsbane Potion," Fenrir said.

Emma's eyes narrowed slightly as she lit Fenrir's joint. "I can. Why?"

"Just curious," he shrugged. "That's an advanced potion for someone as young as you to make."

"Well, when you have an important reason to learn something, you learn it."

Silence fell as they settled in. Emma slowly pulled off her boots to dip her feet into the water. It only hit her just then how quickly she readjusted to having such a new and very unconventional routine. This certainly wasn't Paris where she imagined she would have been if things were different. She definitely wouldn't be in her current situation.

Emma looked at the joint held between Fenrir's fingers curiously and then at hers. "Do you grow? Or do you just deal?" she asked

"What makes you think I do either?"

"Just a feeling," Emma shrugged.

Fenrir looked over at Emma, eyes narrowed. "All of the above."

"Ah, so that's what you do in your spare time," Emma said slowly. "So not only are you the most savage werewolf of all time, but you're also a weed dealer."

"It's more than weed."

"I expected to hear nothing less from you. What else do you do? I don't imagine you just sit around and laze all day."

"Depends on the day."

"That tells me nothing, Fenrir."

"Why do you have so many bloody questions?" Fenrir snapped.

"Don't need to get snippy with me, bloody hell. I'm just curious," Emma said. "I just want to know what it's like on the other side. Excuse me for wanting to understand your life."

Fenrir fixed Emma with a hard stare and let out an exasperated breath, running his tongue over his teeth as if he were preparing to bite her. Emma was thoroughly amused that she could inspire such a reaction in the usually rigid werewolf. "Like I said, it depends on the day," Fenrir said. "Right now, I'm more interested in making sure you're taken care of."

"Why?"

"You are really not grasping the concept of pack, are you?"

Emma blinked owlishly at Fenrir. "Because I don't understand why me," Emma said, pulling her feet out of the water and turning herself to look at Fenrir. "I'm not entirely convinced that this is a pack thing anymore. Especially since you decided that you're changing every bit of whatever supposed plan there was regarding me."

It seemed that the art of ignoring conversations was a trait that every werewolf seemed to have. Her father did it, Elara did it (though less frequently), and Fenrir was doing it to her now. It seemed to be the default reaction when Emma tried to have conversations they didn't want to have.

She blew out a buff of air in annoyance, wondering just how far she could push Fenrir that night without invoking his rage. Emma didn't think he would try to kill her, but the risk was always there. She cast a quick look at the sky – only a few more nights left until the full moon, and then it would be too dangerous to bother Fenrir. Taking advantage of her good mood, Emma decided to ask the question that had been sitting at the tip of her tongue for days. She wasn't sure that she wanted an actual answer, but she suspected that she already knew it.

"Fenrir, do you love me?" Emma decided to ask, watching Fenrir carefully.

Fenrir didn't immediately answer. The only indication that she had thrown him off was a very subtle shift in his face. It seemed that Fenrir wasn't someone who was surprised by much, but he would never have expected that question.

Emma wasn't sure what to think about his lack of response. She had figured that his need to keep her safe moved well past being considered pack. He never outwardly said that he loved her when growing up, but there was a fondness that he extended. The gentle version of Fenrir wasn't frequent, but it existed with her. It didn't fit the narrative of who Fenrir Greyback was meant to be. The only logical explanation she had for his actions was that he loved her, even if it was a very skewed version of what love should be.

"Love's a strong word," Fenrir said slowly.

"You're not denying it," Emma pointed out with a laugh. "Bet it's because it would ruin your image, isn't it?"

Fenrir snorted, shaking his head. "Do you love me?"

It was frustrating how quickly Fenrir could kill her good moods, and she pulled herself close together. She didn't want to answer that question when she was still trying to work through the memories that she had of him and the new information she knew. "That's not a fair question to ask me, and you know it," Emma said, her lips pressing into a thin line as she looked over at Fenrir.

"You asked me. It's only fair."

"It's not fair at all," Emma said sharply. "You've had your bloody memories this entire time, and I've been…" she trailed off, glaring at nothing in particular across the water. "I don't think you understand how confusing all of this is for me. I might have loved you at one point when I had no idea who you really were, but now… I mean, fuck, Fenrir, you tried to fucking bite me and enjoyed scaring me. That's not…that's not loving someone. It wasn't even like you were good-natured about it at all."

"I wouldn't have killed you."

"And how was I supposed to know that? How have I ever been meant to know that?"

"That wasn't my fault."

"It doesn't matter," Emma said, enunciating each word slowly.

"You didn't answer the question."

"And neither did you."

Fenrir clearly had no intention of answering Emma's question. In one swift and unexpected motion, he pushed Emma hard into the river. Emma resurfaced, spluttering and trying to wipe the water out of her eyes.

"Fenrir! What the fuck is wrong with you?" Emma shouted. "What if I didn't know how to swim?"

"Oh, please," Fenrir said, laughing loudly. "You know damn well that I taught you how to swim years ago."

"Lucky me," Emma huffed, annoyed at being soaking wet and the fact she could remember him teaching her how to swim at all. She wasn't entirely sure that she could call it teaching her so much as shoving her in the water exactly as he just did and expecting her to figure it out. It was a wonder she wasn't traumatized by large bodies of water.

Emma watched in horror as Fenrir decided it was the perfect time to go for a swim. In the time it took for her to get back on land, Fenrir had his shoes, coat, and shirt off and belongings out of his trousers' pockets. He jumped in with far too much excitement for a man his age.

"You've got to be bloody kidding me," Emma said, looking over at Fenrir's laid out items. The moment she spotted his wand sitting next to his shoes, she was almost tempted to grab it and run. She could handle dueling him if she had a wand, even if it wasn't hers. Just as the thought crossed her mind, she found herself pulled back into the water.

Emma surfaced from under the water, and Fenrir's hand locked tightly around the back of her neck. Her wide eyes snapped to his in alarm. "Don't you fucking dare even think about trying to take my wand, Soleil," Fenrir snarled at her.

It took Emma some time to realize why Fenrir shifted through her names so often, but it was helpful information. It became her best bet in deciphering Fenrir's moods. When she was Emma, she was safe – it was neutral; Rabbit was safest, always said with amusement. If he called her Soleil, it was dangerous, commanding, and full of unsaid threats. She had inspired the usage of Soleil twice, asking Fenrir too many questions and pushing him too far.

A low growl rolled up Fenrir's throat, and his grip on the back of her neck tightened when Emma didn't immediately respond. "If you want me to rip into your throat, which I would very much like to do, then by all means, take it and try to run. You won't get far. I will take great pleasure in dropping your corpse off at your father's as a gift for him to find in the morning."

Emma didn't expect that just the very idea of taking Fenrir's wand would inspire such a reaction from him. A shiver of genuine fear swept through her at the dark look in his eyes. He seemed keen to follow through on his threat if she dared to run.

Gulping, Emma nodded, quickly averting her gaze. Fenrir liked it when she acted every part of the obedient wolf. Even if she had special privileges, even if he planned to make her his, she was still beneath him.

"Good girl," Fenrir said, pulling Emma close to kiss the spot near her temple. He let go of her, and Emma quickly pulled herself back out of the water, holding herself close. Fenrir kept her pinned where she was with his sharp stare, and she shivered again. She didn't like it when Fenrir's mood shifted so quickly, and as Emma looked up at the moon sitting high in the night sky, she realized he would only get worse.

Emma wanted to just leave, but she was soaked. She was tempted to shove on her boots and just walk, but that would guarantee Fenrir would follow and not leave her alone all night. If she tried to leave, Emma worried that Fenrir would use that phrase that practically bowled her over. He had used it once, unapologetically, to figure out what phrasing pulled that reaction from her but hadn't used it since. "Good girl" was fine, "little girl" by itself was fine, though Emma hated it, but "little girls like you" struck a chord that left Emma sick.

Slowly, Emma picked up her things and hunkered down by the closest tree. Fenrir's eyes followed her the entire way, making sure she wasn't going to try and leave. When he determined she would stay where she was, he finally looked away, content to swim under the night sky.

The breeze that blew by was cold, and Emma started to shiver as her body cooled down. She was uncomfortable, wet, and soggy with no warm sun to heat up her skin. Emma cast a longing glance at Fenrir's wand again, wanting to use it just to dry herself. She looked up in alarm to find Fenrir pulling himself out of the water, with a dark look that nearly sent her scrambling. Her gaze had lingered just a little too long.

"What did I fucking tell you?" Fenrir snarled at her, crouching down and planting himself firmly in front of her.

Emma gulped again, flinching as Fenrir moved his face closer to hers. For the second time that night, Fenrir terrified her. "I-I'm cold," she spluttered out, careful not to hold his gaze for too long. "I just…I wanted to get dry," Emma said quietly, her voice barely higher than a whisper. "I wasn't going to take it, and I wasn't going to leave, I swear."

Fenrir's growl was eerily soft as he stood, but Emma refused to see where he was going. She let out a sharp gasp when something heavy was draped over her shoulders, and she realized it was Fenrir's coat.

"Rest, Rabbit," he said gruffly. "I'll bring you back when I'm ready."

Nervously, Emma pulled Fenrir's coat around her tightly, pulling her entire body into the warmth. It didn't do much to help the sogginess she felt from her clothes, but at least she was warm. With a yawn, Emma leaned back against the tree to watch as Fenrir got back into the water. She had no desire to sleep, but the sudden stress she was put through made her body decide otherwise. Still shivering, both from the cold and fear, Emma closed her eyes. She was looking forward to the sun, where everything would be safe once more.


Lu! I'm so glad you liked the last chapter! Elle is one of my favorite characters, too! She was another character that wasn't going to be in the story as frequently as she is, but she's settled herself in nicely! :) Fenrir's starting to get snippy and turn into his big bad wolf persona so eeeeek.