Fenrir was once a Gryffindor, and Emma wasn't even remotely surprised to have that information in her head. She had been in the library nearly every free moment she had once she returned to the castle, hoping to dig up the other information she needed, but it didn't exist. Just like Emma suspected, it was as if Fenrir had erased his old self from whatever he could but couldn't alter the yearbooks. She had no doubt that if Fenrir had the opportunity, he would have removed himself from the yearbooks as well.
All Emma had to work with was that Fenrir was once a Gryffindor and graduated in 1962. He participated in the dueling club and was a dab hand at Transfiguration. Just as Fenrir had told her, he was very much interested in Divination. The younger Fenrir oozed just as much charm as he did as an adult in any photo he could be found in; smug and cool. He was proud of his pure-blood roots until he suddenly wasn't. Somewhere between 1962 and 1965, Fenrir was bitten and turned into a werewolf, and it no longer seemed like an accident. Fenrir wanted to be a werewolf, and that made him just that much more terrifying.
Once Emma and Greyson worked through their differences, he was more than willing to share the information he learned with her. Emma had been startled when he brought her to the library one day and immediately took her to the mythology section. They were frequently in the library together to share favorite books with each other, but other times Greyson tried to help Emma. Emma could still clearly remember how he had browsed the shelves, brows pulled close together as he inspected each title closely. After what felt like ages, he finally pulled a large book down from one of the shelves.
"Norse mythology?" Emma questioned as Greyson put the book down in front of her. "What does this have to do with anything?"
"I think mythology explains a lot, actually," Greyson said, flipping through the pages before stopping suddenly. He pointed down on the page with one hand and ran his other hand through his hair, almost like he was uncomfortable. "At least this does."
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," Emma said, peering down at the page Greyson pointed to. "All those times I joked about him acting as though he was some sort of werewolf god, and there was some sort of truth to it." Greyson had given her the strangest look when she mentioned it, and she recalled giving him a playful shove in response. "I was trying to be funny when I said it. No wonder he thought it was absolutely hysterical when I would bring it up. How did you come across this?"
"Purely by accident, actually," Greyson had admitted. "I wanted to read something on mythology and I'd never looked into Norse myths before." He continued to stare at Emma, trying to decide whether or not she was serious. "You really sat and called him a werewolf god?"
"Greyson, if you had the unpleasant experience of having to live with him, you would be making terrible jokes like that as well," Emma muttered, scanning the pages, trying to take in words like Ragnarok and swallowing suns. "He has a weird way of making you forget who you are and very quickly. The comment wasn't meant to ever be serious."
Greyson continued to stare at her, blinking slowly as he studied her, still not entirely sure that he believed her. Eventually, he huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. He took a quick look around to make sure that no one was around and cupped Emma's chin, turning her face to look at him. He held her face steady, his eyes searching hers for a long moment, and then he tipped her face up so he could kiss her so sweetly it took her breath away.
"You are the strangest little thing I have ever come across, Emma Lupin," Greyson whispered against her lips as he started to pull away.
"You know, if you didn't insult me the moment you met me, that might have been offensive," Emma had replied, holding onto his collar to keep him from moving. She snorted at his sheepish and apologetic smile, stood on her tiptoes to kiss him, and then gave him a gentle push. "Now go away, I'm reading." Greyson made a choked noise of disbelief, his mouth falling open in shock, and Emma couldn't stop her smile. She adored being able to tease Greyson back after all the times he teased her.
"Well, then, Princess," Greyson scoffed. "I'll leave you alone to read. I know when I'm not wanted, but if you want more to look at, there are a few more books you can read. I'll tell you about them later." Greyson bent low so that his lips brushed over the shell over her ear and Emma shivered. "But I expect you in my room tonight and in my bed," he whispered, his voice low and husky. "I think we need to finish what we started earlier, and I would love very much to know if I can earn an 'O' from you for a job well done."
Greyson then stood, a smug look on his face as Emma turned to look at him with wide eyes. She wasn't even sure if she had blushed as heat immediately settled in her lower belly at his words. How dare he bring up such a thing and remind her that he pulled the filthiest noises from her mouth while enjoying a moment together in an unused classroom. His lips twitched slightly as he tried not to smile, but he failed miserably. Greyson knew exactly what he was doing to her.
"An 'O' for outstanding, Emma," Greyson said, tutting softly. "You know, since I need to do a good job in my interview since we'll have a mock one. Sometimes I wonder what goes on in that mind of yours, immediately thinking of naughty things. All we're going to do is go to sleep afterwards." He let his words hang out in the open for a long moment before he winked at her, shoved his hands in his pockets, and left.
Emma swore that she hated him more than anything at that moment. She had to squeeze her thighs together to try and ease the sudden heat between her legs. And though she hated for him to go, she certainly loved to watch him leave, especially when he turned back to give her a cheeky grin.
With a growl, Emma slammed the yearbook she had in front of her closed and pushed it aside, needing to keep herself in the present. She was getting absolutely nowhere and wasn't getting any further than what Greyson had already managed to do. Emma had been trying to research for two weeks straight, and time was running out. It felt like Greyson left, and her short weekend with her family had passed by, and then the time had flown by.
Emma wasn't entirely aware of just how much she would find herself missing being around Greyson. Snape was as infuriating as ever, and she immediately regretted not just letting Greyson be her tutor. It would have made her potential relationship with him even more complicated, but it would have been worth it for her sanity. To occupy herself, Emma carefully divided her time between the library, working with Madame Pomfrey again, and spending time with her friends. She was grateful that Cedric and Justin seemed to know what she needed most days. Quidditch games were played nearly every night, and Cedric gave her guitar lessons in between. Emma hadn't realized just how much time she spent with Greyson until he wasn't there to spend time with. At least there was a very strong potential of seeing Greyson that weekend if everything went to plan. After dealing with Fenrir, of course.
It was nothing short of a miracle that Remus was mostly willing to meet Greyson at all. It was even nicer that Emma could talk to her father about him. She knew that Remus wasn't entirely sold on Greyson and didn't blame him, but he was willing to try, and she appreciated it. Emma was just glad that Greyson was so willing to meet Remus, no questions asked, even though it scared him.
Emma wasn't sure he would even write to her after she unceremoniously let him leave, but when she returned to the castle, a letter was waiting for her. Emma didn't believe that she had bothered eating that morning, far too excited that he wasn't upset with her. She had taken Greyson's letter and went somewhere she could read it privately, a stupid smile on her face.
The logistics on how the Hogsmeade trip would work were still being worked on, but it gave Emma something to look forward to. It was risky considering how many factors they were working with, but she had to maintain hope that it would be all right. With another growl, Emma dropped her head down to the table, closing her eyes to take advantage of the cool wood. The full moon being the next week felt like a cruel trick. Hadn't the full moon just passed?
"Oi, what's with you?" Persephone asked, looking at all of the books surrounding Emma with fascination. "You all right?"
Emma lifted her head from the table to shoot Persephone a glare.
"Do I look all right?" Emma asked.
"Well," Persephone said slowly, "by comparison to how you've been in the past, I'd say that this is pretty normal, really."
"Cheers, mate. Glad that I can be reduced to being surrounded by a ridiculous amount of books."
"What exactly are you even trying to do?" Persephone asked, reaching out for a yearbook. "The 1959 – 1960 school year? Why so long ago?"
"Flip on over to the fifth year Gryffindors, and you'll figure it out quickly."
Persephone gave Emma a look as though she thought she was mental, but flipped through the book and immediately freezing. She blinked several times, eyes flicking between the yearbook to Emma and then back to the page in front of her.
"But this is –"
"It's Fen, not Greyson," Emma sighed, rubbing her eyes. She thought it seemed obvious, Greyson wasn't a time traveler, but the thought had crossed her mind. With how weird her life was, Emma no longer discounted the possibility. "That's the point Fenrir and Greyson really start to look alike. Greyson always looked like his father, but that's when Fen's face started to change. God, I hate that I know him well enough to even pick that out easily."
"Fuck," Persephone breathed out. "I knew they were practically twins like you and your dad, but this is scary. Did Greyson show you these?"
"He did," Emma said with a yawn. "Fenrir Greyback is apparently a tricky man to get information on. I'm trying to follow the path Greyson took to see if I can figure out what he might have missed."
"Well, Fenrir was a Gryffindor," Persephone said slowly. "Why don't you ask Professor McGonagall about him."
Emma stared at Persephone for a moment feeling inspired by the idea and then groaned as she thought about it further.
"I don't need her telling Dad," Emma said. "Dad knows that I'm trying to learn more about Fenrir, but he doesn't know just how much I'm trying to learn. If I go to McGonagall, then there are no guarantees she won't tell him."
"What exactly are you trying to do? What purpose does this serve? This seems like the sort of absolutely mental shit Fenrir does."
"That's the point," Emma said. "It's the sort of thing Fenrir does, and he would never expect me to go this far. At least I don't think he would." Emma looked down at her watch and groaned, rubbing her face tiredly. "Damn it. I missed dinner. Again."
"Getting friendly with the house-elves again?" Persephone asked. "I was wondering if I just missed you or if you forgot."
"I've just been so focused on figuring all of this out that it slipped my mind entirely that I should eat."
"You're not…we're not going to have a repeat of second year, are we?"
"Everyone keeps bloody bringing up second year," Emma said dryly. "There's a big difference between me genuinely forgetting to eat and not eating on purpose, and I am starving. I am hungry, I'm very grumpy, and I am very, very tired."
Persephone looked at all the books surrounding Emma once more, her lips pursing.
"Emma, you really should take a break from all of this if you're so tired," Persephone said. "It's not like any of this information is going anywhere."
"But I need to know before this weekend, Effie," Emma insisted. "I can't go into this meeting with Fenrir without knowing something. This is only a start, but I need more."
"I just worry that you're going to become obsessive over this. It's Fenrir. What you see is what you get."
"Not true at all," Emma murmured quietly. "He's versatile and can mold himself however he needs to for whatever he needs to. Fenrir thrives on people just expecting him as a werewolf, not Fenrir the businessman or Fenrir the wizard. You've only seen Fenrir the werewolf and Fenrir as…whatever the hell he was when we were kids."
"And you think you've seen all of that? You think that you've seen the other sides of Fenrir?"
"I know I've seen all of that," Emma said with a huff, gathering the books surrounding her and putting them into a pile. She gave Persephone a piercing look as she stood. "And right now, my entire existence is hanging on a life-or-death decision that doesn't just affect me. I'm not stupid enough to believe that Fenrir won't change his decision out of nowhere. He's already proven that he'll alter deals on a whim – the fact I'm even still alive is proof of that."
Something flickered across Persephone's face, something uncertain and worried, but she nodded.
"Right," Persephone said quietly. "Did you need help putting those away, or –?"
"I'll be fine," Emma responded with a yawn. "And before you get on my case, I'm stopping at the kitchens and then going right to bed. Get to start this month's doses of Wolfsbane tomorrow morning, and I'm looking forward to it. Not."
Emma thought that Snape would be relentless with his comments as she worked on the Wolfsbane Potion the next few days, but surprisingly she was alone. She would step into the room, and he would proceed to leave. After his snide comments about her trying to off herself again, Emma was surprised he would leave her alone. She would gladly deal with his stupid comments during class if it meant she could brew Wolfsbane in peace. If only she had Greyson's radio to listen to…
Emma wasn't sure if it was the overall stress of the weekend or being without a werewolf at the start of the week before the full moon that made her anxious. She was easily aggravated, prone to snapping at anyone who even looked at her the wrong way. George had dared to try and talk to her for the first time since they broke up, and Emma had completely lost it. Even Justin, who was already used to her frequent mood swings, had taken to avoiding her. Cedric was seemingly one of the only brave souls in Hufflepuff next to Finley who dared to interact with her. No matter how much Emma would scowl at them, clearly unamused by their intrusion, they stayed. Emma made a mental note to pick them up a gift for dealing with her; she knew that she wasn't enjoyable to be around.
However, it seemed that Thursday night, someone else would dare to try and interact with her. Emma really wished that they didn't.
Emma very rarely decided to do her homework in the Great Hall, but after consecutive nights in the library, she needed a change. The rest of the Hufflepuffs were lukewarm with her, at best, and Emma noticed the lack of invitations to study group. She didn't entirely mind not being included, having hated it when it was implemented in first year. On occasion, Emma appreciated the extra help with homework, but most of the time, she did much better on her own. Remus and Sirius were just a quickly scrawled plea in her notebook away if she was ever desperate for help. She always picked up concepts faster with Remus anyway.
She was working on her Potions work, sitting near the end of the Hufflepuff table and listening to the quiet conversations around her. A sugar quill dangled between her lips, and after every paragraph she wrote for her Potion's essay, she would write a little more of her letter to Greyson. She didn't have to write to Greyson, but his owl was sitting in the owlery waiting for her reply, and she worried he would change his mind for the weekend.
He had been wonderful about writing her every day that week even though he didn't need to. Her heart had melted a little when he would send her parts of his favorite poems just to try and make her smile. It made her feel a bit better that he seemed to miss her as much as she missed him.
Emma had been in an enjoyable memory of her very short time with Greyson when a voice pulled her attention away. If it was any other person, she might have been more receptive, but Emma was not remotely prepared to deal with Hermione Granger. She wanted to be back in her thoughts of Greyson and the things she wanted to do with him.
"Oh, Emma! Just the person I was looking for!"
Emma looked up from her letter to Greyson, her eyebrows raising as Hermione came running up to her. Hermione seemed far too happy for Emma's liking, and she looked at the box that Hermione carried with disdain. Emma had seen Hermione running around with the box in her hand and already had an idea of why she was there. The whole werewolf thing had finally been run into the ground, and the castle had moved onto Hermione's newest quest. Emma, admittedly, was less than impressed, especially in her current mood.
"Yes?" Emma said slowly, pulling her sugar quill out of her mouth, licking her lips to free them from the drying sugar. Emma set down her actual quill with her brow furrowing, staring at the box held tightly in Hermione's hands suspiciously. Emma thought it was evident that she didn't want to be bothered considering her proximity to the Great Hall's exit, but Hermione seemed oblivious.
Hermione sat down next to Emma, dropping the box on the table with a rattling thud. "I wanted to talk to you about something. I started this group called S.P.E.W. –"
"You started a group called Spew?"
"No, S. P. E. W. is what it's called. It stands for the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare, and I thought that –"
"No."
Hermione froze, her eyes growing wide at Emma's terse response well before she even explained anything. "You didn't even listen to what I have to say."
"Because you already lost me," Emma said, turning back to her work. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to get my work done." She didn't have to explain that her work was actually writing her letter to Greyson, and she stuck her sugar quill back in her mouth.
Undeterred by Emma's response, Hermione continued on.
"I've been researching, and I think it's absolutely appalling that in all this time, no one has cared about elf enslavement. It goes back for centuries! The group's short-term aim is to secure fair wages for house-elves and better working conditions. Our long-term goal includes changing the laws about non-wand use and trying to get an elf into the Department of –"
"Hermione," Emma said sharply, "please stop."
"We are going to try and get an elf into the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures because elves are terribly underrepresented," Hermione continued on, ignoring Emma's scathing glare. "I have these badges –" Hermione opened her box, showing badges of different colors bearing the letters: S.P.E.W. "– and I was originally going to have them say Stop the Outrageous Abuse of Our Fellow Magical Creatures and Campaign for a Change in Their Legal status, but that didn't fit, so then I –"
Emma gathered her things and slammed her book closed, the noise seemingly echoing in the now oddly silent Great Hall. Hermione clamped her mouth shut with wide eyes.
"Hermione, do you even realize how absolutely ridiculous you sound?"
"W-what do you mean?" Hermione asked, nonplussed by Emma's response. "I thought you would understand."
"What I understand is that you are campaigning for the one group of creatures that will quite literally die if they are not attached to a witch or wizard," Emma said with a huff. "Of all of the creatures that you could be making a campaign for, you chose house-elves? You didn't consider that maybe, just maybe, you should advocate on behalf of your friend who has werewolves for a family?
"Hermione, are you forgetting the fact that right this very moment, a woman who I very much consider a mum is on trial for something that affects her one night a month? Are you aware that the Ministry is very willing to sentence her to death just because of what she is? It doesn't even matter that what she was doing was helping others. All they see is a vicious creature when she's the furthest thing from being one. Are you also forgetting that my father – who you absolutely adored, might I add – was nearly sentenced to death just for existing, as well? While I am very sympathetic to the plight of a house-elf, you are blatantly ignoring the fact that they need magic to survive. You are ignoring that there is an issue much closer to home – an issue that directly affects someone you're supposed to be friends with."
Hermione seemed completely taken aback, her eyes wide.
"But Emma –"
Emma stood up suddenly, drawing even more attention than she wanted. She hesitated for a moment, looking around at everyone who was looking at her curiously. Emma knew she should stop, just take her things and go, but she was angry.
"No, Hermione. I don't want to hear that you thought I would 'understand' what you're trying to do. What I see right now is someone not advocating for the people that really need it. My father is no longer allowed to gain employment because he's a werewolf. He is no longer given rights because he is a werewolf. According to the entire magical community, he is considered a dangerous animal that could attack you because you look at him the wrong way."
Emma scoffed, her blood boiling with a fire she hadn't felt in such a long time. Angry tears sprung up in her eyes, and she hated it, but she wasn't done.
"Every day, I have to wake up and worry that the Ministry will find a reason to execute him. And you want to know what his biggest transgression is? He didn't put his name on the werewolf registry because he wanted to live a normal life. Now I have to worry that the person I consider a mum will be killed because she tried to make things easier for others. You're going to tell me that I don't understand? Really Hermione? It's you who doesn't understand. You get to live a normal bloody life, and the only issue you have to deal with is that you're a Muggle-born.
"Did you even consider the fact that even though I'm not a werewolf, people look at me the same way? Because I share my dad's blood, because I have wolfish tendencies, I'm considered a threat? Are you aware that I have gotten death threats since coming back to school? That people have threatened to 'put me down like a dog?' He didn't ask for his life to be the way it is and I certainly didn't ask for my life to be the way it is. He was attacked by a werewolf with an agenda to try and teach my grandfather a lesson. That exact same werewolf that attacked my father wound up attacking me as well, and now I have to look like this for the rest of my life. For someone who's meant to be the 'brightest witch of her age,' you are incredibly ignorant."
Emma shook her head, wiping away her tears. She wasn't at all proud of how she was acting, but she was wound up tight with her anxiety. There was only so much that she could handle, and Hermione had tipped her entirely over the edge.
"Hermione, I may have been born into a magical family, but I was brought up as a Muggle just like you. This world is still incredibly new to me, but I took the time to research the issues that matter. I suggest that you do, too."
"Emma –"
"No, Hermione. I need people to advocate for my family, and you're one of the people who doesn't seem to give a damn," Emma shouted. She took a look around at the people staring and let out a derisive breath. "Pathetic," Emma spat.
Emma shot everyone still staring a glare, sneered at Hermione who had tears in her eyes, grabbed her things, and left. It was very unlike her to get angry like that, and she knew the Hogwarts rumor mill would start back up again, but she didn't care. As far as she was concerned, she didn't say a single thing that wasn't true. Very few people had been in her corner, and though a few unexpected people had supported her, Emma still felt alone. She heard the things people said about her, the way they made fun of her or made snide comments, but she had to ignore them. If she didn't ignore them, she would find herself exactly where she had been mentally in her second year.
She was sorely tempted to go somewhere to hide but forced herself down into the dorms and into her bed. A good, proper cuddle with Figaro was in order, and she needed to wake up early. Emma nearly remembered too late that she still didn't get to finish her letter to Greyson and quickly shot up from her bed to do that. She would have been more annoyed if she didn't send out her letter.
The overall mood towards her on Friday morning was particularly cold after she yelled at Hermione. Hermione wasn't the most popular student in Hogwarts by a long shot, but Emma already heard the stirrings of her somehow preaching "werewolf supremacy." Fenrir would be proud to hear that one. The Slytherins who had been avoiding her for most of that year except to pester her about being called Emma Black practically applauded her entrance. Draco was possibly the one most amused by Emma's display.
"I didn't think you had it in you, Lupin," Draco shouted from the Slytherin table when she sat down for breakfast. Emma barely bothered to look up from her plate of sausages and eggs, far too tired to care. Her mood lifted moderately when Greyson's owl dropped in with one of the sweetest letters he had sent her so far. She held it close as she read it, happy to see that he was excited to see her the next day, and Emma tucked it happily into the inner robe of her pocket. There was a strong possibility she would read it throughout the day.
Emma's mood took a quick dip when she left History of Magic and heard the conversations the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws were having. Moody had decided to put the entire class under the Imperius Curse that morning, which meant her class would be doing the same.
"What did he have you do?" Emma asked, grabbing onto Harry's robe to keep him from going far. He was rubbing hard at his knees, and it made Emma frown.
"He tried to have me jump on a desk," Harry grumbled. "I somehow managed to resist it, but I slammed both of my knees into the desk. He made me do it four times in a row."
Emma didn't like the sound of that at all.
Her anxiety over Moody's class made her struggle all through Potion's. On a typical day, she could handle the class, but her thoughts were too scattered. She wasn't at all surprised when Snape walked by her cauldron and completely vanished what she was working on. It wasn't anywhere near her usual quality of work. She preferred the evidence not exist even if it meant that she would receive no credit.
Moody wasted no time the moment the bell rang for class to start. He quickly announced what they would be doing that class period, and Emma's heart was racing. This was the last thing she needed to do in her current state. At least Draco looked as anxious as Emma felt, but Draco was always a complete wimp.
One by one, Moody pulled students forward and cast the Imperius Curse on them. One by one, Emma noticed the almost glazed over look her classmates would get before being made to do things they wouldn't otherwise. It appeared that there was nothing that the Imperius Curse couldn't have someone do.
Goyle was put through some sort of gymnastics routine, which made everyone laugh until Moody yelled at them. Wayne was made to walk around and pretend that he was a duck. Emma couldn't stop herself from bursting into a fit of giggles when Persephone was made to skip around the room and sing.
"Lupin!" Moody said sharply when he released Persephone from the curse. "You're up."
Emma immediately paled, slowly taking the spot where Persephone had been, frowning slightly as Persephone rubbed her temples.
"Not so funny when it's you up here, is it?" Moody asked, his gaze piercing. Emma gave an uncertain smile in response. Before she had the opportunity to brace herself, Moody's wand was raised, and he said, "Imperio!"
Emma, admittedly, didn't entirely mind the feeling that washed over her at first. She felt as though nothing mattered and that she wasn't even in the Defense classroom. Every bitter thought and worry she had no longer existed – only a state of bliss. She was no longer worried about having to see Fenrir, didn't worry about how dangerous it could be seeing Greyson – all she cared about staying relaxed.
But that bliss swept away into a wave of anger she wasn't expecting. Soleil hated having a third person in her mind and was well aware of it before Emma was.
Do a cartwheel...do a cartwheel… Moody's voice repeated somewhere in her mind, fitting in between her thoughts and Soleil's.
Soleil was angrier than anything Emma had ever heard before, low guttural snarls and snapping teeth. It was too close to the full moon, too invasive for Emma or Soleil to feel comfortable, but Emma didn't understand Soleil's animosity towards doing a cartwheel. It was such a simple thing to do, and there was plenty of room. The desks had been mostly cleared out and a cartwheel was so easy.
Why not? Emma dared to ask Soleil as she felt herself start to twist herself to do a cartwheel.
Don't do it, Soleil said to her. He's hoping to make you look stupid.
Do a cartwheel.
Emma didn't think that she could look stupid while doing a cartwheel, but she supposed that Soleil had a point. Soleil continued to tell her not to listen, and not obey. She was wearing a skirt, and if she were to fall, the idea of her knickers being on display seemed terrible. Emma felt herself start to straighten back up, but Moody's voice was back and more insistent.
Do a cartwheel NOW!
No! Soleil growled, and the next thing Emma knew was she found herself on the ground, and she immediately understood Harry's pain. With an odd flicker of nothingness, Emma had completely lost all control of her thoughts, and it scared her. Somewhere along the line, Emma's very mind had gone completely blank as if she wasn't even there. Soleil had never shoved herself to the front of her mind like that, and the sudden loss of power paired with the Imperius Curse was terrifying. She shot Moody an aggravated look, rubbing her knees with a softly muttered, "Ow."
"Interesting," Moody said slowly, his gaze searching. "Well, well, Lupin. That wasn't entirely you, was it?"
Emma frowned, trying to sort through her thoughts, and eventually shook her head. She couldn't say that it was entirely her that decided to fight against the invasion because Emma Lupin was willing to obey. Soleil was not.
"Up, Lupin," Moody said. "I want you to try again. I want to see if you're like Potter and can beat it." He motioned for Emma to stand back up before addressing the rest of the class, "I want you all to watch her eyes – that's where you see it!"
Moody put her through the Imperius Curse three times, barely allowing her to recover between the spell being cast. Each time Soleil pushed through faster, and Emma felt like she was losing herself more – blackness replacing what she should remember. Emma thought that with the Wolfsbane Potion, Soleil wouldn't be able to do such a thing, and the fact she could lose herself at all was concerning. Remus had never mentioned Moony forcing himself forward in times of great distress, but they had never discussed that part of the wolf before.
She left Defense Against the Dark Arts shaky and weak. If she could lose herself while still human, Emma didn't want to know what it was like as a werewolf. It was scarier than she thought it would be, and Emma had a sudden understanding of how Remus felt before taking the Wolfsbane Potion. But why was Soleil able to push through at all? How often did Fenrir allow himself to have moments like that? She doubted that her father ever let Moony take over like that, but how did he keep Moony at bay? Could he keep Moony at bay? Emma had so many questions for a scenario that she never thought she would ever experience, and she hated it.
Emma could barely make it through Charms and Transfiguration, and she was grateful that she didn't have therapy again until the next week. She was shaken to her core, unable to understand what had happened. Was her increased tremble from the after-effects of the Imperius Curse, from her nerves, or something else? Emma briefly considered writing to Remus to ask him about it, but she would be seeing him the next day. It was a conversation she would much rather have in person, but it left her unsettled.
She slipped into her bed that night, restless and nervous and still shaken up from Moody's class. Her thoughts refused to slow down, her stomach knotting almost painfully with her anxiety. Emma was so worried that she swore she wasn't going to be able to fall asleep, but the next thing she knew, her alarm was going off.
She couldn't convince herself to move except to slam her clock's alarm off. Emma stared at her ceiling, feeling like she would be sick. Five hours separated Emma from a decision that was going to decide how at least the next few years would go, if not her whole life.
Emma wasn't ready; she had no idea what she was going to do.
a/n: OMG I didn't think I was ever going to get to this point. It felt like it was never going to happen, but now we can start breeeezzziiinngggg along. Can't wait to bring Fenrir back finally - why do I miss him? But we also get Greyson, too. And also Remus. Lots of moving parts in the next chapter. o_o
So, at least with Moody and his Imperius Curse lesson, Remus no longer has the worst Defense lesson taught. As helpful as it was to teach students what the curse was like, it was stilllllll bad.
Anyway, these one shots are going sloooowwww mostly because I think I've been wanting to write Fen haha. Ooooops. ANYWAYS, I swear they'll be coming at some point.
To all of my late night readers - please go to sleep! I love you and good night!
Definitely come and join us on Discord. We're an interesting bunch, and I swear we're friendly. Just jump right in and you will be 100% brought into the fold.
discord . gg / 9gXkaaq2qJ
Maricate - Hehehehehe. OOPS. I'm so sorry bahaha. Yes, I know my god. I was tempted to do a super long slow burn but I couldn't do it. I gave myself a slow burn just waiting to write my babies being together. I'll definitely have to sit and reaaaddd! :D But sometimes projects just completely take over and I understand. I keep debating on whether or not I want to start the prequel to the series just for the backstory. I have no idea~
Shard - YES. SO MANY PHOTOS. My god if you draw them I will literally sob and then share the photos everywhere (and I still have my long list that I need to send for commissssiiiioonnsss. I keep thinking about the one I told you). And yes! I had to do it! The Potion's kit was perfecttttttt. Hahahaha WHY WE GOTTA ALL MISS FENRIR?! (It's because I accidentally made him hot looking damn it).
