Emma was relieved that Greyson dropped the topic of what she was looking at during Potions. If he continued to tease her, she would have just offed herself right then and there. With how frequently Moody brought up the killing curse during class, it seemed like the perfect solution. Just one quick, "Avada kedavra!" and she wouldn't have to suffer through her embarrassment any longer. Emma knew that Greyson was pure Slytherin when he knew precisely at what point to stop torturing her. A few of her classmates cast her curious looks, but he returned to teaching just before too much attention was drawn her way. She – hated – him.

However, she didn't hate him enough to keep herself from casting odd glances at him sitting at the staff table at lunch.

Did she like Greyson more than she thought? It seemed like such a stupid thought when she didn't actually know him. She had spent a decent amount of time with him, of course, but that didn't mean anything. They never discussed anything. Outside of what Persephone told her and the very few snippets he accidentally revealed, Greyson was a mystery.

It was one thing to be physically attracted to him – she couldn't deny that and struggled fiercely with that thought. She wasn't sure that she couldn't blame it on being stuck with Fenrir all summer or if she genuinely liked Greyson. For the first time ever, Emma was genuinely looking forward to her appointment with Dr. Wheeler because she had a lot to talk about. Emma wasn't sure that she could trust her own feelings anymore, and she didn't dare go to Remus for this one.

But what about Greyson bringing up Justin and George? Emma found herself questioning as she looked up at Greyson again. Even though he was young, he looked in his element sitting up at the staff table. Greyson was laughing at something that Professor Sprout had said to him, his face lighting up. His smile completely transformed his face, and Emma found herself tilting her head ever-so-slightly as she watched him for a moment.

Emma cast a curious look over at George, frowning slightly. The entire time they had been at school, Fred and George had been pouring over the same piece of parchment. They were continuously huddled together, muttering to themselves and scratching away at the paper in front of them. Emma had tried asking what they were doing a few times, but George had deflected more than once. Considering he had been strange with her the past few weeks, Emma didn't bother to try and question him further; she would get nowhere. Though Emma didn't understand why,

She turned her attention to Justin a few seats down, talking animatedly with Wayne and Leanne. That was a conflicting situation for her, and she had even admitted it to herself back in Saint Mungo's. She had told herself that they were just really good friends and that she saw him as a younger brother, but was that just her way of protecting herself? Emma had always been close to Justin, but she didn't think he ever saw her as anything more than a good friend. Was it possible that there were more feelings there than she thought? Persephone had brought it up on her birthday, and then Greyson brought it up again that morning. Emma straightened up slightly as Justin noticed her looking at him, and he waved, his smile bright. She waved back and quickly looked away, turning her attention back to her book, propping her head on her hand.

When Emma felt that Justin's attention was back in his conversation, she lifted her gaze to peer back up at the staff table. The more she tried to figure Greyson out, the more confused she became. What sort of game was Greyson Fenmore playing, and why did it have to be with her? She was startled out of her thoughts as Persephone plunked herself down next to Emma, a smug smile on her face.

"I know that look," Persephone said slowly, giving Emma a once over.

"What look?" Emma asked, just as slowly. She lifted her head off of her hand to give Persephone her best glare.

"The look you get when you're interested," Persephone practically chirped. She looked over at Greyson and then back at Emma. "Believe in Divination yet, Emma? Because it's happening."

Emma scoffed at the idea, dropping her head on her hand. "Absolutely not," Emma said, glaring at Persephone. "Don't you dare tell me that he's going to be my husband again. You do recall one major issue, right?" Emma lifted her left hand to point to the ring on her finger. "You know, namely that a certain someone had made me his intended wolfy wife?"

"Listen, take your pick – five-year difference with Greyson or thirty-four with Fen," Persephone said pointedly. "I think it's a no brainer."

"But why does it have to be Greyson? Why can't it be George?"

"You'd have a better chance with Ernie than George," Persephone said, a little too loudly. Ernie's eyes shot up, and he sent a glare in their direction just as Emma smacked Persephone's arm hard. "Just think of how romantic it would be," Persephone added, rubbing her arm.

"Romantic?" Emma questioned. "Romantic?! What could be at all romantic about this?"

"Think about it," Persephone said, looking fully prepared to argue her point, "you both are complete book nerds who met in Flourish and Blotts. He's the son of your mortal enemy, and you're the child of two men who fiercely oppose his father – it doesn't matter that Greyson doesn't really know him. The point is, Trelawney literally saw it in the crystal ball – your lives together are written in the stars, er…perhaps the moon for you two – is that offensive? Either way, she said that he will come into your life when you least expect it, Emma. Did you expect to meet Greyson in the bookstore?"

"Well, obviously not. I didn't expect to meet him at all – he didn't even exist until three weeks ago," Emma huffed, glancing past Persephone to look at Greyson. "But she also said that I'll immediately know who he is when I see him."

"Correction – when you truly see him," Persephone said, tapping her temple. "You two are too busy trying to get at each other's throats." A wide smile crossed Persephone's face, and her expression grew smug as she lowered her voice. "Between you and me, I think he's just as interested in you as you are in him. He's asked me about you."

"He's only asking you because he refuses to ask me things about myself," Emma scoffed, crossing her arms. "He's nosy. He's not interested."

"But you don't know Greyson like I do," Persephone said in an annoying sing-songing voice. "And I am telling you, he's interested, but he's shy. Don't let all that sarcasm have you fooled. He's like you – keep people at a distance so you can't get hurt. Dig deep into that little Hufflepuff heart and let him in and stop being mean."

"Me? He's the one who has to keep driving me absolutely mental!" Emma said with a slight growl. "I don't understand how you've kept a friendship with him so quiet and why you never told me."

Persephone shrugged. "It's called being a Slytherin. You make connections, and I thought it would pay off in the end. Clearly, I was right, but you're stubborn. You're missing out, Little Lupin," she said. "I'm just saying you two are a perfect match. You could teach him a thing or two about finally accepting the whole…well, you know."

There weren't many things that made Emma doubt Persephone, but Persephone keeping her friendship with Greyson hidden bothered Emma. Emma could understand why Persephone would hide it, especially with Fenrir involved, but they were supposed to be best friends. However, Emma knew Fenrir well enough that he would stop at nothing if he knew he had a biological child. It was the only real reason he kept her around, after all – to bear his children. The very thought of it made her want to gag. Still, it didn't change that Persephone had known Greyson existed at all and that bothered Emma. Even if there was no possibility of her ever meeting Greyson, it still would have been nice to realize she wasn't the only half-werewolf around.

"I'm not missing out on anything," Emma managed to convince herself to say as she grabbed her things. "And I'm certainly not missing anything with Greyson Fenmore."

Thursday seemed promising as Greyson completely ignored her the next morning. She was free to work however she pleased, and it was delightfully silent. It was just as well as Emma's head was still pounding, and if Greyson dared to bother her, she might have yelled at him. However, the few times she looked up at Greyson, she couldn't help but wonder if he was a little more affected by the moon than she thought.

He was trying to read whatever book he had in front of him, rubbing his temples. It was clear his attention was elsewhere, and Emma wanted to ask, but she didn't. She had a feeling that he didn't quite forgive her for bringing up he was half-werewolf as well. If Emma was right about Greyson, he was like her and preferred to suffer in silence. The only difference was she couldn't do that any longer while Greyson could. Greyson could pretend that he had a dreadful headache, and no one would question it. Emma found herself green with envy over his ability to slip under the radar. She would give anything to be able to do that again.

It was during double Potions that Emma decided that Greyson was definitely affected by the full moon. He didn't look ill like she did, but she could see the flickers of pain in his eyes, and he was quieter than usual. When Greyson announced at the beginning of the class, he would be giving them a quiz at the start of the second hour, Emma had an idea of what he was doing.

The class let out a resounding groan of disappointment, but everyone perked up when he said they could leave as soon as they were done. Remus used to do the exact same thing during full moon weeks, and Emma understood entirely. When Greyson's gaze met hers for the first time since the day prior, Emma saw the shiver of fear that crossed his face. Emma didn't immediately understand why, but half-way through her quiz, she questioned herself if it was because he worried she would tell his secret. As annoying as she found Greyson, she would never do such a thing to him.

Emma waited for the rest of the class to clear out after finishing their quizzes. It was painstaking to try and act as though she was struggling through her quiz, but she wanted to help Greyson. Justin gave her a funny look when he rose from his seat, but Emma gave him a small shrug. Everyone knew that Emma finished her quizzes quickly and was often out of the room within twenty minutes.

"Harder than I thought," Emma mouthed to Justin. He studied her for a moment, but then he gave her a small smile.

"You've got this," he mouthed back. Justin quickly gathered his things and left, leaving Emma alone with Greyson.

"Oh, thank God," Emma breathed out, leaning back in her seat. "I didn't think this room was going to clear out fast enough."

"Do you have a problem?" Greyson asked, his brows knitting together as he looked up from his book to acknowledge Emma's presence. "I thought you left already."

"No, I don't have a problem," Emma said, scratching out the rest of her answers on the quiz as fast as she could. "I was done ages ago, but you have a problem."

"What do you mean?"

Emma looked up from her quiz to give Greyson a pointed look. "I'm very familiar with the whole giving a quiz when you feel like shit tactic," Emma said, turning her attention back to the paper in front of her. She stuck her tongue out between her teeth in thought as she read through her answers and shrugged. A sympathetic smile crossed Emma's face as she met Greyson's inquisitive look.

"Already forgetting my Dad was a werewolf and taught here?" Emma questioned, her eyebrows lifting slightly. "Trust me, I used to look forward to when he scheduled quizzes and tests during full moon weeks. Although, I actually preferred when he would lecture. Dad's got a really soothing voice, and I would just sort of start to drift off. One time I actually fell asleep – that was a bit embarrassing, but considering my mental state…" Emma trailed off, setting her quiz back down on her desk with a nervous giggle. "Well, I'll just say that no one questioned it if I were to fall asleep during class. Speaking of which, you're not that terrible to listen to either, so it's a wonder that I didn't fall asleep today."

Emma's face immediately turned red as she realized exactly what she said. She quickly cleared her throat and gathered her things to tuck back into her bag. A light flush had crept across Greyson's face, and that only sent Emma into a nervous fit of giggles.

"Uhm, why are you telling me all of this?" Greyson asked, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms. Emma took it as a good sign that he wasn't immediately defensive.

"Because you're also oblivious," Emma said, grabbing her quiz and standing up. Emma pulled the strap of her bag onto her shoulder and sighed as she crossed the room to drop her quiz on the pile in front of Greyson. He still looked curious, and Emma's lips twitched slightly into a smile as she dove back into her bag, pulling out a bar of Honeyduke's dark chocolate.

"I get the feeling you're quite ignorant to our shared…situation," Emma said quietly, setting the bar of chocolate down on the desk and pushed it towards Greyson. "I'm sure that no one's told you that dark chocolate will help with the headache. It's a temporary fix, but if you have a piece every hour or so, it'll help stave off the worst of it. Your headache won't go away entirely, but when not even Muggle solutions help, you take any bit of relief you can." Greyson's expression shifted from shock to aggravation and then a tight uncertainty. His nod of understanding was so small that Emma nearly missed it.

"I understand if you don't want to understand that side of yourself," Emma said quietly, shifting from foot to foot anxiously, "but if you ever want to talk about it…Well, I can tell you that your secret will always be safe with me." Emma cleared her throat, suddenly feeling stupid. She pointed at the bar of chocolate and forced a smile on her face that felt a little more genuine when she realized she could actually share her father's advice with someone else. "Eat it – you'll feel better. A little bit, at least."

Emma turned on her heel and quickly made her way to the door. She had to resist the urge to smile back at Greyson when she heard the subtle crinkle of him opening the wrapper as the door started to close. When she saw Greyson at lunch, he seemed a little more himself, and he seemed to have a bit more energy.

Greyson managed to catch her eye from the staff table, and this time it was Emma's turn to give him a curious look. He lifted up the bar of chocolate that she had given him with the smallest of smiles with a nod. Emma huffed out a laugh and shook her head with a smile of her own. Perhaps Persephone had a point, and maybe Greyson's issues were rooted in him not understanding a part of himself. Emma still didn't like him, but perhaps he wasn't a lost cause like she thought.

As Emma started to return her attention to her lunch, she noticed how McGonagall looked between Greyson and Emma. A moment of panic swept through Emma's system, but McGonagall seemed oddly pleased. When McGonagall noticed that Emma was staring at her with wide-eyed horror, she sent a wink Emma's way. Emma quickly turned her attention back to her lunch in embarrassment. She hoped that meant that McGonagall wouldn't dare tell Remus. Then again, Remus had yet to say a word to her if he knew that Greyson was there. That reassuring fact made her feel as though her father was still blissfully unaware.

Emma tried to make a very hasty exit from the Great Hall. Clearly, she wasn't fast enough as McGonagall seemed to have superhuman speed. She had to suppress a groan as McGonagall placed a hand on her shoulder and gave the woman an innocent smile.

"Miss Lupin, if I may have a word with you," McGonagall said, steering Emma out of the Great Hall and into an empty room. McGonagall let go of Emma's shoulder and sat down in one of the chairs, looking expectantly at Emma. Emma immediately began to squirm under McGonagall's gaze, averting her gaze and playing with the hem of her jumper nervously.

"Does Dad know that Greyson's here?" Emma asked, peering up at McGonagall.

"Of course not, silly girl," McGonagall said with a soft laugh. "Anyone who knows the truth knows that Remus would come storming into the castle like a gallant knight if he knew. When Remus didn't do exactly that, we all realized it was because you never said a word."

"Because I knew he would do exactly that," Emma said with a sad laugh. "Not that I don't want him here, but…So others know who Greyson is?"

"We keep it quiet," McGonagall said, gesturing to the chair next to her. She waited until Emma finally sat down to speak next. "Just like we keep your secrets quiet. Although, I do have to apologize once more for the issue of your registry –"

"People have mostly left me alone about it," Emma said quickly, worrying her lip between her teeth. "Really, it's fine."

McGonagall gave Emma a soft smile in response. "And what are your thoughts on young Mr. Fenmore?" she asked.

"I, uhm…I suppose it's best to say it's complicated," Emma said quietly. "I'm sure Dad's kept you up to date on my issues with Professor Snape? It was a bit surprising to have Greyson show up in class on my birthday, no less."

"Yes, and while I disagree with Severus's tactics, I believe his plan to agitate you with Mr. Fenmore's presence isn't going to plan. I'm sure that you've realized that his intention was for Mr. Fenmore to interview to be your tutor."

"It was pointed out to me," Emma said, her forehead wrinkling in her confusion. "But what do you mean?"

"I'm not ignorant to believe that Severus doesn't hold a grudge against you or your parents. It's childish for him to take his frustrations out on you, and I'm sure he recognized that you would know exactly who Mr. Fenmore is. However, I believe that you and Mr. Fenmore might be growing fond of each other."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Emma said quietly. "I don't know that we've had a real conversation just yet."

"I think that you'll find Mr. Fenmore is very like yourself," McGonagall said. "I'm sure that he doesn't seem like it, but he's very shy. He's exceptionally bright and very ambitious, but shy."

"Greyson's shy? I would never believe it."

"Oh, I used to tell him off for having his nose in a book during class," McGonagall said fondly. "If he found a book that he enjoyed, it would be difficult to get him out of it. His first few years here, he was such a quiet young man. When he joined the Quidditch team, he started to blossom with his confidence…not too unlike someone else I know."

"My Dad? But he didn't play Quidditch…"

"No – I mean you." Emma looked at McGonagall in surprise, and a frown crossed her face. She opened her mouth to speak, but she wasn't entirely sure what to say. McGonagall's smile was somehow even softer than before. "While you are very much like Remus, you are your own person. You are much more accepting of others than your father is. Remus has a very gentle soul, but he allows his prejudices to get ahead of him. I believe that you and Mr. Fenmore could be…close friends."

"Because of…what we are? Because of who our fathers are?"

"Yes and no," McGonagall said slowly. "I believe that you need a friend right now, and I believe that he needs help to find the acceptance he could never find growing up. I think if you two were to sit down and get to know each other, you would see just how alike you both are."

"I don't know," Emma said, rubbing the back of her neck. "I don't know if Dad –"

"Don't worry about what Remus thinks," McGonagall said.

"But what about –"

"If neither your father nor Mr. Fenmore's father was a part of the equation, would you find yourself being his friend? Answer that question first."

Emma looked at McGonagall for one long moment and looked down at her shoes. She had been having that debate with herself for the past week, and though she didn't understand it, she only had one answer.

"Of course," Emma said quietly. "He clearly loves what he does, and I can admire that about him. He's a bit annoying, but he's also a Slytherin, so I would think that regardless." A small smile crossed Emma's face, and she shook her head. "But I still don't think he would be interested in being my friend. How am I supposed to try and become friends with someone who clearly doesn't want to get to know me?"

"I think you'll find that a little kindness goes a long way, Miss Lupin," McGonagall said sagely. She put a hand on Emma's knee and gave it a squeeze. "I think it's safe to say that you've managed to crack through Mr. Fenmore's tough exterior. Remember, it's the first time he's met someone like himself, too."

McGonagall smiled at Emma and gestured towards the door. "Perhaps it's best you be on your way," she said, rising from her chair as Emma stood from hers. Emma returned McGonagall's smile and was half-way out the door when McGonagall called her name. "Emma, if you were to find yourself having…favorable…feelings towards Mr. Fenmore, I would suggest not telling your father without backup."

"And what exactly do you mean by that?" Emma questioned with wide eyes. She stepped back into the room to allow the door to close.

"I mean that your Aunt Minerva would be willing to put things into perspective for your father," McGonagall said with a knowing smile. "He's a handsome young man, and I understand that your culture is different than ordinary wizarding culture. I believe that many of us can turn a blind eye if it meant happiness was involved. Albus has requested that we follow your lead just as we did with your father at your age…but you didn't hear that from me. I don't believe your father would be pleased to hear that we've granted you the same leniencies we did for him. Besides, I was young once – I just pretend I don't know what's going on behind closed doors. If I don't see it, I know nothing."

Emma stared blankly at Professor McGonagall, trying to understand precisely what she was referring to. It took Emma a few moments longer before recognition suddenly hit, and Emma blushed furiously.

"Oh," Emma said quietly, unable to stop herself from giggling. Other than Remus, Professor McGonagall was the last person she would ever expect to endorse such a thing. Persephone she could at least understand as she very rarely kept her nose out of other people's business, but McGonagall? It took Emma another few moments to realize that McGonagall spoke to her as Aunt Minerva and not Professor McGonagall. "Oh, I doubt that would ever happen. I think it would be a disaster, but I'll keep that in mind. Thank you, Aunt Minnie."

When Emma woke up Friday morning, she immediately wanted to go back to sleep, but she forced herself up. She wished she understood why the last few days leading up to the full moon were the worst. She had no idea how she was supposed to handle making the Wolfsbane Potion every month so early in the day. Even worse, Soleil seemed to be talking to her excessively. Soleil had decided that she was very interested in Greyson, and it infuriated Emma. She still hadn't been able to take a real moment to herself, and Soleil's over-insistence to act on instinct drove Emma mental. More than once on her walk to the Potion's classroom, Emma mentally chastised herself for not taking the time to "fix" that problem. Sleep seemed far more important than trying to get Soleil to shut up, and she was paying for it. When the idea to take an ice-cold shower crossed her mind that morning, she should have. Soleil needed to be taught a lesson.

Emma knew that if the opportunity just to snog Greyson presented itself, she would honestly take it. She was stressed and felt like a spring ready to snap, and she almost didn't care who she snogged. George didn't seem interested, which was bothersome, but the desire to scratch that particular itch was weighing heavily on Emma. Even though Emma knew that it should be George she snogged, Soleil really wanted it to be Greyson. Emma felt like she was being betrayed by her own mind. Even worse, Emma had quickly realized that Soleil wanted her to do much more than snog Greyson, but she could never. At least she didn't think that she could.

It had taken Emma far more time than she wanted to admit to herself to understand McGonagall's reference to werewolf culture. She had spent a very long time trying to figure out what she meant, and Emma realized Remus must have told her what her birthday meant. Even though she was still expected to abide by wizarding laws, Greyson was the exception – they were of both worlds. They had a completely different set of rules to go by. Even though Greyson was oblivious, it didn't change that his biology was similar to hers. Greyson had been considered an adult at fifteen, just as she was now, and Emma could bet that he had no idea.

Emma allowed a single growl to escape her lips as she approached the Potion's classroom. She had gone the entire summer without having Soleil have untoward thoughts with Fenrir, but with Greyson? It was an entirely different story. Having others try to push her towards Greyson had made Soleil practically chomping at the bit because others agreed with her. Soleil wanted Greyson, wanted to pull him into their small but growing pack, but did Emma want him?

Soleil's insistence left Emma on edge and confused. The entire summer, Soleil's goals had been torn between wanting to submit to Fenrir or overthrow him. Both feelings were often the same thing, and Emma initially had no idea how that would work. Emma eventually figured out that Soleil's need for both was her wolfish need for wanting to find an equal footing with Fenrir. It was that recognition that made Emma realize that she needed to start considering working with her wolfish side. Even if the message didn't always translate well, Emma knew that she had to work with her wolfish impulses. Soleil's acceptance of Fenrir as their Alpha wasn't because she wanted to; it was because she needed to accept him. If Emma had any hope of her plans working, she had to give in to the wolfish side of herself, but she would be damned if she gave into it with Greyson. Even if she did, everything was so complicated that Emma had no idea how any of it could work, but it didn't matter. It would never happen, anyway.

Emma pressed her forehead to the door of the Potion's classroom and took in a deep breath. She refused to forget herself, though it was easy to do just before the full moon. Being around Fenrir had shown her how easy it was to just give in. For the few moments she let herself slip and give into Soleil and find acceptance in that side of herself, it felt almost freeing, but she couldn't do that now.

Soleil wanted her to give in so badly, and Emma had no idea how her father managed to make it seem so easy to ignore. The wolfish side of her wanted her to stroll right up to Greyson and take exactly what she wanted – to claim him – but Emma couldn't. The idea of "claiming" someone just seemed bizarre, and it wasn't like she could go to Remus to question it. She certainly wasn't about to write to Fenrir about it; that would bring up far too many questions.

Emma knew that Greyson at least suffered to some extent with the full moon, but it definitely wasn't the same as what Emma experienced. Emma was jealous of him over it, but she supposed there was a trade-off; at least she could say her father wasn't Fenrir Greyback.

With another deep breath, Emma straightened up and shook her head. She couldn't think about any of that right now. Emma knew she couldn't give into Soleil without taking the time to see if Greyson understood the wolfish side of himself. She couldn't act on anything just before the full moon. If her thoughts and desires were still the same afterward and aligned with Soleil, well…that would be an entirely different conversation. It would be a very long, complicated, and confusing conversation.

Greyson's eyes lifted ever so slightly to meet hers as she entered, but he was quiet, quickly turning his attention back to his book. Emma noted that he had a fresh bar of Honeyduke's chocolate sitting next to him, one piece already snapped from the corner. At least her advice had helped, and that perked her up slightly. For one long moment, Emma studied Greyson, curious to know what book he was reading so intently but went about her tasks.

When Emma finished making the potions, she had her dose, gave Greyson a quick wave, and returned back to the dorm to sleep. There was no point in her going to History of Magic, and she slept all the way until she had to return to Potions for her actual class.

She was silently thankful that Greyson decided to have them work on revising the Wiggenweld potion. She had made the potion hundreds of times, and it was another one that she could do in her sleep. It was the perfect sort of potion to make in her exhausted state as she didn't have to think hard about what she was doing. Everything was going well until it went horribly, horribly wrong.

Emma melted her cauldron.

She had never melted her cauldron before while working on a potion, and she was horrified. What did she do wrong all of a sudden? Emma remembered adding her first set of five lionfish spines, was waiting for the potion to change colors, and looked away for one brief moment. She wasn't even sure that the potion had even changed colors before the bottom of her cauldron melted out. It happened so quickly that Emma barely even had time to react. Mandy was the first one who noticed as she squeaked out in surprise, and that was when Emma saw the problem. Rather than doing something about it, Greyson was over to their table, grabbing hold of her upper arm to pull her away. Rather than continuing the class, Greyson dismissed everyone but kept a hold on Emma's arm.

"What happened, Lupin?" he asked her gently once the mess of her potion was cleaned up with a wave of his wand and the room was empty.

"I don't know," Emma said quietly, staring at her melted cauldron. Her anxiety was settling into her very limbs uncomfortably, and she hugged herself to try and soothe her nerves. She was too focused on her cauldron to realize that Greyson's hand had moved from her arm to her back, and he was rubbing soft circles between her shoulders. "I had just added the lionfish spines. I was waiting for the potion to change colors again."

"Did you have the heat correct?"

"I've made the potion hundreds of times," Emma said with a shaky breath. She sucked in another breath to try and calm her nerves. "I don't know what went wrong."

"A cauldron will melt if the heat isn't correct or if too much lionfish was added."

"But I didn't add too much lionfish," Emma moaned. "I've made this potion a hundred times for Madam Pomfrey, Greyson. I know how to make the Wiggenweld potion." Emma finally realized just how close they were and where Greyson's hand was when he fell scarily silent. She didn't entirely mind his close proximity or the warmth of his hand on her back.

"You just used my first name," he said quietly.

"I know," Emma said just as quietly with a slight grimace. "I'm sorry, I know you were teaching, but it just slipped out, and I –"

"It's fine," Greyson said quickly. He seemed to catch himself, clearing his throat and shoving his hands in his pockets. "I, uhm…there's no one in here. It's fine."

Emma hesitated for a moment, running a hand through her hair. "You can, er…you can call me Emma," she said. "If you'd like, of course," Emma added quickly.

"Oh," Greyson said in surprise. "Well, uhm, Lupin – I mean, Emma – do you want to come back here at lunch and try again? It seems odd that you can handle making the Wolfsbane Potion with no issue, and I just want to see what might have happened."

"Yeah," Emma said slowly. "Yeah, sure. I'll just be heading off to Defense then, and I'll come back at lunch."

Moody was more overbearing than usual in Defense. Emma knew her attention was drifting, but she was too focused elsewhere. What could she have possibly done wrong with the Wiggenweld potion? Emma continued to work through the steps in her mind, but nothing made sense to her. The only moment she couldn't account for was the moment she looked away – and where was she even looking? If Moody wasn't staring at her with his magical eye, Emma was sure her embarrassed flush would have been bright red. She looked away from the potion to look for Greyson. If she butchered the potion because she was too busy looking for Greyson, she would hate herself for it.

Her embarrassment continued well past Defense and into lunch as she made her way back to the Potion's classroom. Greyson spared her from setting things up as the ingredients and a cauldron were sitting ready for her. When Emma questioned it, he said that he took a look at what she had done earlier.

"Everything that wasn't melted was cut and measured perfectly when I tried to figure out what went wrong," Greyson said with a shrug. "It wasn't a big deal for me to prepare that much for you. Just make the potion."

Greyson was very attentive as he watched Emma make the Wiggenweld potion. His gaze was sharp as he watched every step she made, but he was quiet as he observed her work. By the time she finished, his brows were knit together with confusion.

"You did everything perfectly," he commented, crossing his arms. "But that reaction was definitely from the lionfish."

"But I didn't add too much," Emma said, repeating herself from earlier. Usually, the fumes from potion making didn't bother her, but it was making her head hurt even more. She pressed the palms of her hands into her eye sockets to try and ease her headache. "I only looked away for just a second –"

"You looked away?"

"I knew I had at least five minutes before the potion would change colors again," Emma said slowly. She hoped Greyson wouldn't ask her why she looked away. A sudden snap echoed in the otherwise silent classroom, and Emma jumped. She pulled her hands away from her eyes to look at Greyson in alarm. Her attention was very quickly drawn to the piece of chocolate held in his hand, and she took in his sheepish grin.

"Sorry," he said softly. "I didn't mean to startle you. You just looked like you needed a piece."

Emma sighed, taking the chocolate from Greyson with a quiet, "Thanks." She popped the chocolate into her mouth and let it melt onto her tongue with an appreciative hum. It took just enough of the edge of her headache off. Maybe McGonagall was right, and she had broken through to Greyson somehow.

"Is there a possibility that someone might have added an additional spine while you weren't looking?" Greyson asked.

"I would hope not," Emma replied, her stomach sinking at the thought. She tried to think of who was around but couldn't recall anyone other than Mandy and Anthony being at their table. She didn't think either of them would do something to sabotage her potion, but then again, Emma wasn't too sure anymore. "I don't know now, though…"

"I'll try and do some investigating then," Greyson said, looking at his watch. "Go get something to eat while lunch is still going on. I didn't see you at breakfast, so I'm sure you're probably starving. Don't give me another reason to worry about you."

Emma nodded, making her way up to the Great Hall and plunking down heavily at the Hufflepuff table. She was half-way through eating her lunch when a thought suddenly struck her. Greyson had been looking for her at breakfast and told her not to give him another reason to worry. Why would he worry about her at all? That was curious.

An uneasy feeling crept into Emma's stomach during Charms. Something felt wrong, but she didn't know what it was. Emma felt the need to write to Remus to make sure that everything was all right, but when she reached for her notebook in her bag, it felt cool. If something was wrong, surely Remus would have written and told her. She knew Sirius was still at home, and if something were to happen to Remus, Sirius would know to write to her. Panic rose up at the idea that something had happened to them both.

Worried, Emma very gently pressed her fingers to her bracelet, needing some sort of reassurance that things were fine. She couldn't easily write in her notebook in Charms when it wasn't activated just yet, but she would if she had to. When she received Remus's answering response, she felt a little better, but she still felt worried sick. Something was wrong – it had to be.

The feeling that something was wrong persisted all through Transfiguration. It only grew worse when McGonagall pulled her aside to say that her appointment with Dr. Wheeler was canceled. That wasn't normal, especially when she already missed her appointment the previous week because of her birthday.

Everything seemed mostly normal in class, but McGonagall seemed a bit more subdued. Was it just Emma feeling on edge, or did McGonagall know something that she didn't? Emma was tempted to ask, wanting to take advantage of Aunt Minerva, but when she reached into her bag to touch her notebook, it was hot. She had developed an almost secret language with Remus with the bracelets and gave five quick taps – their way of asking if things were all right. When Emma received only one prolonged moment of heat against her wrist in response, her stomach dropped. It wasn't a good sign if Remus was telling her no.

The moment class was over, Emma shoved her things into her bag and sprinted towards the closest hidden spot she could. She ripped her notebook out of her bag, wrote in the Marauder's oath, and nearly let out a scream of frustration at what she saw.

'Don't panic just yet. We're trying to figure things out. We'll talk later.'

What was that supposed to mean? How was she supposed to not panic if she didn't know what she shouldn't be panicking over? Remus's message only made her panic even more, and she shoved her notebook back into her bag angrily.

Emma's mood soured further when she stepped foot into the Great Hall. It seemed like the entire room was waiting for her arrival as heads very quickly turned her way. Emma's walking was slow until she stopped to a complete halt, not understanding why she had so much attention on her.

"Emma!" Persephone shouted loudly, her voice warbling with nerves. Persephone was on her feet and over to Emma in a matter of seconds, thrusting a copy of the evening Daily Prophet into her hands. "You have to look!" The urgent tone in Persephone's voice already made Emma sick, but it was the headline that nearly made the feeling become a reality. Emma wanted to throw up.

A WEREWOLF IN SAINT MUNGO'S - A WOLF IN SHEEP'S CLOTHING OR SOMETHING MORE SINISTER?

Emma's stomach plummeted as she pulled the paper closer to scan through the article, desperately hoping it couldn't be who she thought it was. There had to be another werewolf, right? Elara couldn't be the only werewolf working in Saint Mungo's – the hospital was huge. Oh, and there had to be another Elara Douglas that worked in the hospital that worked in the Serious Bites department. And the other said Elara Douglas had to be taking care of another Emma Lupin – how funny there was another Emma Lupin, too. And said Elara Douglas that took care of the other Emma Lupin couldn't be –

"They've scheduled to execute her pending a trial?" Emma gasped out, looking at Persephone, her vision blurring heavily with tears. "Effie…they can't. Not Elara. They can't have arrested her just this morning and decided to kill her already. She hasn't even had a trial yet, and they already have plans to kill her? They didn't even do that with Dad!" Emma's breath was coming out in sharp gasps as she looked down at the paper in her hands. "You know that the trial is pointless, and they're only doing it because they have to. They're going to…no. They can't. They can't do this…"

"Emma –"

"Jude did this," Emma choked out, thrusting the paper roughly back into Persephone's hands in anger. "This is all Jude's fault."

"How do you –"

"He's one of the only other people who knew!" Emma started to walk backward slowly and gave Persephone a suspicious look. "Were you just about to defend him again?"

"I wasn't trying to defend him, but how do you know?"

"Who else would it be?" Emma snapped, pointing a finger at Persephone. "If it wasn't him, was it you?"

"Emma, I would never, but –"

"Then it was Jude," Emma said sharply. She found herself looking for the only person who could potentially understand what she was feeling up at the staff table. When she met Greyson's gaze and saw the newspaper clutched in his hands, Emma broke. Greyson couldn't possibly understand what she was actually feeling, and Emma felt stupid for thinking otherwise.

"I can't be here right now," Emma managed to stammer out. With one final look around the room, Emma turned on her heel and ran.


a/n: Heh. I'm sad.

Anyway, to all of my late-night readers, please head on off to sleep!

Come join the Gremlin pack and join the Discord if you'd like to help me out from time to time! Either punch in the link below (just remove the spaces) OR head over to my twitter bio and grab the link from there (link in my profile) -

discord . gg / 9gXkaaq2qJ

Maricate - I've had a few different comparisons made for characters! I actually have character renders of everyone over on Tumblr (and Facebook!) if you're interested to see! :) Facebook is easier to access, but Tumblr is most up to date. This goes for anyone who wants to see, as well - mymoonyandstars . tumblr dotcom / moonlitcharacters

Lu - Hahaha EVERYONE WANTS IT TO HAPPEN! I thought people were going to be annoyed with Greyson, but everyone loves him! :D