A/N: I'm sorry I've been lagging on updates, but I wanted to dedicate my time to finishing my other story. It's finally done, so I'm going to work on getting the rest of this one uploaded in decent time. And, to make it up to you all, I'll give you three chapters today instead of one. Enjoy!

'Sometimes you make choices in life and sometimes choices make you.'

Gayle Forman

"You should ask if you'd be allowed to leave on weekends, to visit us," Emily suggests, as Darcy scribbles furiously on a piece of parchment. Lupin replaces her ink bottle as it runs low, and Darcy mutters her thanks to him. They smile at each other until Emily breaks the momentary silence. "Or see if we could visit you here at the castle. Then we could see Carla, as well."

Carla nods eagerly, looking over Darcy's shoulder as she finishes writing. "I like that idea. Write it down, Darcy."

Crowded around the cluttered desk in Lupin's office, with him on one side of the desk and Darcy, Emily, Gemma, and Carla on the other side, the five of them read what Darcy's already written. Her palms and fingers are flecked with black ink, and she reads over the few questions on the parchment, twirling her quill with her fingers. It was Lupin who had decided a list of questions to ask Dumbledore might be a good idea, that way she could get all of her answers in one sitting without forgetting any of them. It had taken a bit of convincing to have Emily come along; Emily had been extremely hesitant about joining Lupin in his office, but she also had voiced her opinions about the Hogwarts job quite loudly, insisting that the Ministry job was clearly the better option.

But Emily was eventually unable to refuse Darcy's plea for help thinking up questions, so the four of them had brought their lunches to Lupin's office a few days later, and Lupin had provided them with tea (and, in Darcy's case, hot cocoa). The now empty plates are stacked on the ground by Lupin's feet, and they all sip their drinks, thinking hard. Lupin dips his own quill into the shared ink bottle, hastily grading some homework, looking up every so often to offer an opinion or share a suggestion. For the most part, he pays them no mind, and it doesn't bother Darcy—his presence alone is comforting.

"I want Carla, Harry, Hermione, and Ron to be able to visit me whenever they want, in the privacy of my own room," Darcy adds quickly, dipping her quill in the ink and scribbling it underneath her previous question. She puts a question mark at the end of it, despite it not really being a question. It makes her feel better about the whole thing.

"Forgive me, but—is this a list of demands or a list of questions?" Lupin asks, looking up, and Gemma chuckles. Darcy looks up at him, but when she sees he's smiling, she can only smile back. Lupin returns to the homework piled in front of him. "You'll want to ask how much the salary is, of course. And don't let him cheat you because you're young and inexperienced. You should be paid the same as anyone else."

"Regardless of what Dumbledore pays you, it'll be better than Mr. Weasley's offer," Carla shrugs. "That one isn't paid. And besides, you'll only be an assistant, so you can't be upset if you aren't paid as much as everyone else."

Darcy puts her quill down, her hand beginning to cramp. She gives her hand a few quick shakes. "Money's not that important to me. Whatever he offers will be fine," she replies, chancing a glance up at Lupin again. She notices his mouth open and close, as if to say something, but after a moment he decides to keep it shut and nods politely at her. Darcy picks up the parchment, scanning it over once more and clearing her throat. "All right—I think this is a pretty good list. The most important thing is that I can have visitors, and I'd like to know how long I'll have to be coming back. After Dumbledore gives me the answers, I think I'll be able to make a decision."

Emily sighs loudly, and everyone turns to look at her. "Come on, Darcy, you're not seriously considering this?" she asks quietly, as if trying to block Professor Lupin out of their conversation. "You have an offer to work at the Ministry of Magic, and you would turn that down to come back and work under Snape? I think I'd rather kill myself than have to be cooped up with that bat for an entire school year."

This makes Lupin chuckle, and Emily gives him a pointed look, frowning.

"But Harry's here," Darcy retorts, turning to look at Carla with a smile. "And Carla will be here." Carla beams back at her. Darcy's eyes find Lupin's face—he'll be here.

"Em, leave her alone," Gemma says, hopping off from her seat on the corner of Lupin's desk and waving an impatient hand at Emily. "It's a good idea to make a list. Darcy, you could be really good at this. You always have been really good at Potions, and even Snape can't deny that. Whatever you choose, I'm with you."

"I'm only saying," Emily continues, crossing her arms over her chest. "Just because you choose to go into the Ministry doesn't mean you'll never see Harry again. I know you, Darcy—I know that the only reason you're even considering coming back is because it's another year you'll be able to spend with him. And what about the following year? You're just going to keep coming back until Harry's out of Hogwarts? You're going to be Snape's assistant for four more years?"

"So what if she wants to be Snape's assistant?" Gemma interrupts, scoffing. She looks to Lupin as if for backup, but he keeps his mouth shut. "I say it's a good offer. She gets a roof over her head, three meals a day, close to a pub." She shrugs. "If she doesn't want to take the job, I might. I think I've just convinced myself."

Carla shifts uncomfortably from her seat on Darcy's left. "You know, Darcy, if you don't want either of these jobs, no one is forcing you to take them," she says. "Don't feel pressured into doing something you'll regret for the rest of your life. You should be choosing a career that you'll love forever. What have you and Professor McGonagall talked about?"

"I don't know," Darcy says shortly, not wanting to be the topic of discussion any longer. "Mostly we talked about Ministry jobs—but I don't know."

"Carla's right, Darcy," Lupin cuts in, and every eye goes to him again. His eyes, however, are fixed on Darcy. "You are free to do whatever you want. I've told you before, you could do anything you wanted, anything you put your mind to—don't feel that these two jobs are the only ones you'll ever be able to get."

Emily scrunches her nose, sitting up straighter in her chair and brushing her hair over her shoulders. "Darcy's wanted to go into the Ministry of Magic since she was eleven years old, Professor," she snaps at Lupin. He raises his eyebrows at her, leaning back in his seat to listen to her. "This is her chance, and I would hate to see her miss out on this wonderful opportunity just because she was given the option of coming back to Hogwarts and—"

"I'm right here," Darcy grumbles, blushing furiously. "You don't have to talk about me like I'm not here."

"Fine." Emily turns in her seat to face Darcy. "Darcy, I think you should take the Ministry job."

"Emily, you've only told me that a hundred times already," she answers, rolling up her parchment. "I'll make a decision once I have all the information that I need. It's good to look at every side of things before making a decision, isn't it?"

Darcy looks hopefully at Lupin, and he gives her a reassuring smile and a nod.

"Ever since I can remember, we've had this dream of going into the Ministry," Emily protests. "Don't you remember? Why would you just so willingly give up on that right when the opportunity is knocking on your door?"

"That was your dream, not mine. It was never my real dream—it was only a fantasy," Darcy sighs. "I'm not like you, Emily. I can't just go do whatever I want to."

"What's stopping you? And don't say Harry, because you know he would be happy for you—"

"Emily." Lupin's voice cuts her off, and Emily quiets immediately, giving him a withering stare, shocked that he's had the audacity to interrupt her. Lupin doesn't falter, only smiles politely at her. "Darcy is going to make an educated decision with help from you and the rest of your friends—whether or not she goes into the Ministry, or stays here at Hogwarts, or decides to pursue something else altogether, it is her decision and her decision alone. As her friend, you should support her in whatever she does decide."

"He's right, Emily," Gemma says, and Carla nods in agreement. "You can't force Darcy to pick whatever career appeals to you the most."

Darcy scoffs. "I'm right here!"

There's an awkward silence, and when Darcy looks at Emily again, her cheeks are bright red. And then, Emily stands up and her chair screeches against the floor. She marches over to the door and turns at the threshold, looking everyone in the eyes. Finally, Emily's eyes fall on Carla, who seems to know what's coming as she rises from her chair to her feet. "Let's go, Carla—"

"I'm coming," Carla sighs, groaning and throwing her head back. "But I've got Care of Magical Creatures coming up, so I can't be long—"

Emily and Carla leave the office, shutting the door behind her. Darcy can't hear their voices from in the classroom, but her heart is heavy as she hears Emily slam the classroom door a few seconds after they leave. "Don't worry about it, Darcy," Gemma says quietly, slipping into Emily's now empty seat and squeezing Darcy's shoulder gently. "You know how she is. She'll forget all about it tomorrow, and if she doesn't—well, it's like I said. You know how she is."

"I should have just gone to Professor Dumbledore without telling her," Darcy answers, turning back to look at Gemma and Lupin. "Thanks for standing up for me, but next time, maybe it'd be best for you both to not say anything. Especially you, Professor Lupin."

Lupin scratches at the scruff on his face, curious. "Has Emily always taken such an—interest—in your future?" he asks cautiously.

"Emily thinks she's Darcy's mother," Gemma answers for her, grinning. "It's always been that way, as far as I can remember. In second year, Emily had packed a second trunk full of clothes for Darcy—outfits she'd picked out for her. And I think Emily was in charge of picking what classes Darcy was going to take after they took their O.W.L.'s."

Darcy nods in confirmation. "That's true. She wanted us to take the same classes."

"And you let her?" Lupin presses. "Why don't you stand up to her? Why didn't you tell her you wanted to pick your own classes?"

"Well," Darcy says carefully, stroking her chin and feeling very warm. "You just saw what happens when you stand up to her. Besides, she ended up picking all the classes I wanted to take anyway, so it doesn't matter."

Lupin looks at Darcy apologetically. "I didn't mean to offend anyone," he explains, smiling weakly. "On the contrary, I only wanted to keep the peace. I hope she doesn't hold it against me."

"She will, sir," Gemma laughs. Lupin furrows his brow, looking at her. "Emily doesn't like any man who doesn't worship the ground that she walks on, so you'll likely never get on her good side ever again. If you're looking to earn some favor, though, next time she says something, just nod and agree with her and tell her what a wonderful thing it is to say. Her birthday's coming up, as well, so a solid 'happy birthday' may appease her."

"Thanks for the advice," Lupin says, smiling. He studies Gemma's face for a moment, his smile fading. "You look very much like your father, you know."

"You know my father?" Gemma asks, looking partially shocked and partially amused. Lupin's hard face seems to give her his answer. "Not many teachers speak to me about my parents. Sometimes Professor Snape asks after them, but… you know Professor Snape." She grins slyly, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back in her seat. "You fought in the war, didn't you?"

"I did."

"Go on, then," Gemma shrugs, not looking discouraged. "You can say what you want to say. It's not like I've never heard it before. Perhaps I'll even have a few things to add that you've forgotten."

Lupin holds his hand on the top of his desk, the half graded pile of homework forgotten, shaking his head. "I recognized your last name on the first day of classes, but you've surprised me," he admits, and Gemma laughs out loud again. "Besides, I trust Darcy's judgement. You seem to have chosen your own path in life."

Gemma hums in reply, getting to her feet and stretching. "No offense, but you really shouldn't trust Darcy's judgement, Professor," Gemma says, combing her fingers through Darcy's hair affectionately. "Her judgement is the worst out of all of us." This makes Darcy smile and Gemma takes a few steps towards the door, suddenly noticing that Darcy isn't behind her. "It's almost time for classes to start—I'll wait for you outside the classroom. Thanks for having us for lunch, Professor Lupin."

He nods in acknowledgement and watches as the closes the door of his office behind her. Darcy can hear Gemma leap the few stairs from his office to the classroom, and when the footsteps become too faint to hear and the classroom door shuts again, she looks up at Lupin again. He stands, gathering the empty teacups from his desk and placing them on a small table near the back of the office. Darcy gets to her feet awkwardly, unsure of what to say to him. She wrings the parchment in her hands and smiles at him. Lupin flashes her a toothy grin.

"You never told me you fought in the war, Professor," Darcy says, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

Lupin straightens the piles of homework on his desk, raising an eyebrow and looking very much like a young boy again. "You never asked," he teases. "Yes, I fought in the war. My finest hour, if you ask me. Your parents fought alongside me, and many others."

A sense of pride washes over her, and she can't hide the wide smile that crosses her face. "Maybe we could talk about it sometime. You could tell me how brave you and my parents were."

"Of course, though I'm not sure it quite counted as bravery, what we did. We were young and sometimes very stupid," Lupin answers with a laugh. He pauses, ushering her towards the door of his office. With his hand on the handle, he looks at Darcy again. "If you're not busy tonight—?"

"Yes," Darcy says, almost too quickly. "Dinner sounds wonderful." And when Lupin opens the door for her, she makes her way down the few stone steps. The door doesn't shut until she's halfway across the classroom.

Gemma is still waiting outside of Lupin's classroom, leaning up against the wall, when Darcy walks out. At the sight of Darcy, the Slytherin boy Gemma's been talking to bids her goodbye. They start the walk together towards their respective classrooms, the corridors relatively cleared out by now. Gemma keeps up, albeit huffing and puffing, as Darcy takes the stairs two at a time without slowing.

"You know," Gemma says thoughtfully as they make their way up the second flight of steps. "I have to say—I wish we could have had Professor Lupin all seven years—could you slow down, Darcy? He's got to be the only teacher in this school to never say anything terrible about my parents. Except Snape, of course, but what he does or doesn't say doesn't really matter." She gives Darcy a sideways look. "He's never said anything about my family while you two were having your dinners, has he?"

Darcy smiles, looping her arm around Gemma's, pulling her along. "No," she replies honestly. "Never. I had no idea that he was familiar with your family."

"Almost anyone raised in the wizarding world is familiar with my family," Gemma snorts. "You've just been sheltered, is all. You still have so much to learn."

Thinking back, Darcy realizes she's never know much about Gemma. Not that Gemma's incredibly secretive—she'll always answer a question honestly, but has never given out information freely. Of course, there had always been rumors, but Gemma had always brushed them off with a pleasant smile and an impatient wave of her hand. All too familiar with rumors, Darcy doesn't place much stock in them. In truth, Gemma had been Emily's friend first; Emily was the one to bring Gemma around Darcy more often, and Darcy's had a soft spot for Gemma ever since.

Gemma had, of course, instantly recognized Darcy's name when Emily introduced them first year. There had been questions that night, and Gemma had given Darcy the vague truth about her own life when Darcy had asked questions in return. Emily had mediated, stopping Gemma after her questions had gotten too personal, but Gemma hadn't continued to push Darcy for answers, hadn't overstepped her boundaries again. Gemma had always been good to her in return for absolutely nothing. Despite her being in Slytherin, Gemma had proved herself to be a fiercely loyal friend and could always be relied upon to provide a good laugh and an honest truth should it be required, which makes her nice to have around when Emily needs knocked down a few pegs.

"He's got a nice ass, right?" Gemma asks, very seriously, but the corners of her lips turn upwards at Darcy's reaction. "Don't act like you weren't looking when he was making tea—I made sure I wasn't the only one looking. And I'll let you in on a little secret, if you're interested—"

Darcy narrows her eyes. "What?"

Gemma smiles in earnest. "I was the reason he dropped the first teacup. I may or may not have used some magic to move it closer to the edge of the table," she whispers in Darcy's ear, giggling all the while. "I just wanted a few more seconds of the view."

Darcy can't help but chortle with Gemma, but her cheeks burn with embarrassment at being caught. Clearing her throat and regaining her calm demeanor, Darcy bristles. "I wasn't staring at—"

"You were," Gemma says flatly, raising her eyebrows almost to her hairline. "Don't even lie—I saw you, saw the hunger in your eyes—"

"There was no hunger in my eyes—"

"Yeah, yeah," Gemma answers, rolling her eyes. As they approach the Ancient Runes classroom, Emily isn't outside waiting for Darcy. "Listen, don't worry about what happened in there. Emily's just upset you wanted to get a man's opinion on something, and she's upset you didn't listen to her own."

"It's more than that. I'll tell you some other time—I don't think she quite likes Lupin as much as we do, especially after what just happened," Darcy tries to explain quickly, before they enter their class. "Professor Lupin has given me really great advice, and I only wanted to hear everyone's advice all at once."

"You know Emily. To her, that's like the ultimate betrayal. But don't worry—I'll smooth things over with her and I'll distract her from the fact that you're having dinner again with him tonight."

Darcy tenses, avoiding the knowing look Gemma gives her. "Er—thanks—"

"Twice this week already," Gemma says playfully. "And don't you have Patronus lessons tonight, as well?"

Pursing her lips, Darcy places her hand on the doorknob, pushing it open as the bell rings to signal the start of lessons. Gemma doesn't seem worried she's late as she back away, still grinning wickedly at Darcy. "Shut up."

"Sorry I don't have a wizard's chess set," Lupin murmurs, moving one of his bishops a few squares across the board, taking one of Darcy's pawns. "I've had this board since I was a young boy. I've won many matches with this one and maybe I'll be lucky enough to win many more."

Darcy taps her chin, thinking, and then moves her knight to take Lupin's bishop. "Sometimes it's nice when the pieces are quiet," she smiles, looking up at him. "I hate playing against Ron. His knights never shut up, and I'm pretty sure his pieces cheat for him."

Lupin laughs, considering the placement of his pieces. His touches the top of his queen, then pulls his hand away quickly, running a hand through his hair. After a moment of sitting quite still in deep thought, Lupin slides one of his pawns forward, which Darcy scoops with her rook. "You're good at this," he says, eyes scanning the board.

"No, I'm not," Darcy answers, catching his attention as her queen moves across the board to trap his king. "Checkmate." She leans back in her chair, folding her arms across her chest and grinning smugly. "I know you've been letting me win. I'm terrible at chess. Strategy isn't my strong suit, I'll have you know."

He doesn't admit to anything, but also doesn't meet her eyes when he smiles.

After their fourth chess match (which he'd let her win—again), Darcy and Lupin retire to the sofa in front of the fire. Her feet rest on the small table in front of her, and Darcy leans back into the cushions, her head turned towards Lupin. His arm brushes against her's whenever he shifts slightly, which he seems to be doing often. Up close, she can see the signs of an approaching full moon, still a fair few days away, but it still makes each line one his face stand out more prominently, aging him another five years it seems. Lupin's eyes are heavy, dark shadows forming underneath and contrasting heavily with his pale skin. When he turns to look at her, his mouth forms a tired smile.

"Can I ask you something?" Lupin says quietly, not looking away from her.

"Of course, anything."

He hums, his tired smile not fading. "Has Emily always been like that towards you?"

Darcy chuckles, turning back towards the fire. Lupin shifts next to her again, and Darcy leans into him, privately very glad he doesn't move away. "I know what you're thinking—Emily's stubborn and hard-headed and opinionated, but she's always been so kind to me. She only wants the best for me, and it's always been like that." She takes a deep breath and thinks back to when she and Emily had first become friends—quickly, in the first few days of being at Hogwarts, they'd become inseparable. Darcy turns her body to face Lupin, still leaning against his arm. "Everything I have—who I am today—I owe to Emily. She shared her clothes with me when I came to her in Petunia's old things, she shared her home with me and told me things she'd never told anyone. She taught me everything she knew about the wizarding world, consoled me when I was upset, held me after a nightmare, laughed with me when I was happy. Before her, I only had Harry. I was no one before I met Emily."

Lupin listens intently, shifting once more. Darcy feels his hand rub briefly against her own, and without thinking, she reaches for it. Instead of grabbing her hand, Lupin brushes his fingers against her's lightly, lacing and unlacing them loosely, his skin warm to the touch. Darcy feels her heart start to pump harder and, for just a moment, she almost forgets what they've just been speaking of. All she wants to do is hold his hand for the rest of the night, for the rest of her life. How can such a simple gesture give me such comfort?

"She wants me to go into the Ministry, yes," Darcy finishes, distracted by his touch. "But I know that whatever I decide, she'll support me. That's why I just let her fawn over me—she just wants to feel in control for a little while. We've spent seven years of our lives together constantly, and after this year, everything's going to change."

"It doesn't have to," Lupin answers, glancing down at their hands, his fingertips brushing so lightly over the back of her hand. "You'll still be able to see each other."

Darcy looks at him carefully, leaning back into the cushions again and staring into the fire. "What about you? Will I ever see you again after this year? Or will you disappear for another thirteen years, only to show up again when I'm least expecting it?"

He takes a long time to answer, clenching his jaw and looking away from her. Lupin pulls his hand away from her, holding it in his lap and clearing his throat. "It's only February," he murmurs. "By the end of the year, you'll be so distracted by the prospect of starting your new career that I suddenly won't seem so interesting to you." He grabs Darcy's hand again, raising it closer to his face so he can read her watch, then lets go. Her hand falls limply back to her side. "It's already been two hours. Aren't you tired of me yet?"

She smiles up at him. "Not yet."

Lupin smiles down at her. "Harry should be here soon."

"Yes." She considers him, her eyes trailing from his face down his long body and back up again. Darcy tries very, very hard not to imagine what his body looks like when not covered by clothes slightly too big for him. "Do you want to know something?"

He nods slowly.

"You asked me what I thinking, going off with Oliver that night, do you remember?"

"I remember." Lupin looks almost suspiciously at her. "I'd rather not think of it."

Darcy laughs quietly, taking his hand in hers, her heart racing. "Do you really want to know what I was thinking?"

"I don't know," Lupin replies hesitantly. "Do I?"

"I was thinking—"

"Darcy? Professor Lupin?" Harry's voice sounds faintly from the other side of the wall. Darcy breaks off at the sound of her name, releasing his hand immediately, and both she and Lupin hesitate before getting to their feet, putting some distance between themselves.

Darcy is the one to open the door leading into Lupin's office. Harry looks around, bewildered, at the sight of Darcy climbing over the threshold of a hidden door, closely followed by Lupin. She gives her brother an excited smile, raising her eyebrows. "Sorry we're late," she tells him, "I had to use the bathroom."

Lupin grabs a briefcase from the corner of his office and it rattles as soon as he lifts it into the air. "Shall we get started?"