Remus caught Emmaline's eye as he took his seat for breakfast the next morning. She gave a shy smile and looked at her plate. His fingers recalled the soft texture of her hair the night before. He opened and closed his fist and reached for the porridge ladle to give them a different occupation.
Eliza approached the bench and Emmaline made room for her to sit. He watched as she fussed over the girl's plate, insisting she take eggs and bacon instead of sweet pastries. She tidied her hair and made sure her uniform was orderly and brushed of crumbs. Emmaline ate without small talk most mornings. To see her so naturally take on a role of mother gave him an insight into what her life must have been like in Ireland.
"This table is reserved for Gryffindors," Eloise said to Eliza.
Emmaline looked at her but said nothing.
"Nobody minds," Remus told her.
Sirius entered the Great Hall and walked to the table.
"We were just leaving," Emmaline replied, binding off the end of Eliza's braid and standing up.
She wore no robe, just the uniform Lily procured for her. The skirt was a little long, as Lily stood taller. Otherwise it was a perfect fit.
"Off to take your tour of Hogwarts?" Lily asked kindly.
"Yes," said Eliza.
"Have fun!"
"Be sure to show her the quiddich field," James said.
"And the trophy room," added Sirius, puffing out his chest. "You'll see a few names in there you recognize."
"Warn her about the Whomping Willow," Peter said.
"And about Myrtle," Lily chimed.
"I will," Emmaline said as she waved.
Remus got up and followed them out the door. "Emmaline, wait up."
She turned, a curious expression on her face.
"Can I talk to you in private?"
"Who's this?" Eliza asked.
"This is Remus," Emmaline said.
"You shouldn't be talking to boys in private."
Emmaline's head jerked toward the girl and back to him.
"Eliza...speaks very bluntly," she said, then turned to her. "Why don't you wait for me over there?"
She pointed to a bench a ways off. Eliza crumpled her face in annoyance but obeyed.
"You wanted to talk?" Emmaline asked when she was out of earshot. "If this is about last night, I'm sorry if I embarrassed you in front of your friends."
"You don't need to apologize. But if you hear Sirius or Peter joking that we're married please ignore it."
Emmaline recoiled and blinked in rapid succession.
"Don't ask," he said. "I just wanted to let you know I spoke to Sirius and he shouldn't bother you again."
"Oh," she replied.
"I think you were trying to tell me in Honeydukes that you aren't comfortable with dating. Now I understand why."
"You do?"
"Yes. You're Catholic."
She cocked her head. "Why would you think that?"
He looked around. "Because...Eliza said...?"
She closed her eyes and shook her head. "No...no."
"No?"
"We lived in a Catholic home, yes, but it's been a long time since I practiced."
"...Really?"
"Yes."
What he said next came out before his judgement could file it into the "Do Not Utter" category.
"That's great news."
Emmaline's eyebrows went up. "Why's that?"
Why is that, Remus? He asked himself.
"Sirius will be glad to know," he blurted.
"You misunderstand me. Just because I'm not Catholic anymore doesn't mean I'm ready to behave the way the rest of you do."
Her hand flew to her mouth.
"Sorry. I only meant-"
First Lily and now Emmaline ventured to point out the misdeeds of him and his comrades. Were they really so conspicuous?
"You meant you're not ready to act like an idiot."
"I didn't say that."
"You wouldn't be wrong if you did."
She glanced down the hallway. "I had really better get back to Eliza before she breaks her wand in half."
The girl was currently tossing the object in the air and trying to catch it in her pocket.
Emmaline stepped away but he said, "I wish I had known."
She stopped.
"About the rest of it. I would have been kinder...should have been kinder all these years."
"Don't say that. You've always been one of the kindest."
"That's pathetic."
"And the worst thing you can do now is act differently. There's a reason I didn't want anyone to know in the first place."
He understood keeping a secret, but also the respite that followed when a few friends uncovered the truth and supported him regardless.
"Is there some relief, at least, that you don't have to hide anymore?" He asked.
She regarded him thoughtfully. "When I first came to school I didn't think to hide anything about myself. But then Bellatrix...she taught me it was easier to blend in, even if it meant lying."
"If she, or any of them, give you trouble, tell me, all right? I'm a prefect. I can make sure they're disciplined."
She didn't look comforted by that offer.
"I will, thanks," she replied, not meeting his eye. "See you later."
It took several minutes of steady breathing to return her heartbeat to normal. Eliza asked question after question but Emmaline couldn't reign her focus in. The school year had taken so many unexpected turns and it was only the first week: the solicitation by Sirius, Eliza arriving as a witch, and Remus...Remus taking notice of her every day. It couldn't last, though. Once Sirius went back to chasing someone else and Eliza settled in, life would resume to a comfortable, dull progression. Which would be a good thing. Hugging Remus the night before was impulsive and rash, especially since all she'd intended to do was shake his hand and tell him thank you. She didn't know what had come over her. Now in addition to admiring him from afar she could recall the smell of his neck when she looked his direction. Not ideal for maintaining a level head.
They rounded a corner and saw the Slytherins gathered in their masses, laughing and plotting. Emmaline snatched Eliza's hand in hers and yanked her back.
"Ouch!"
"Let's go another way. Quickly now."
"What's the rush?" Bellatrix called, rising from her seat. She sauntered their direction and drew so close that Emmaline could see each of her heavily coated black eyelashes. She smelled faintly of smoke.
"Who's your little friend?"
Emmaline didn't speak. Fear paralyzed her lungs. She tried to turn around but bumped into Zachary, who'd silently boxed them in and prevented their escape.
"So what do you think it was?" Bellatrix went on. "Not enough money in her purse for a baby and whiskey?"
Her friends snickered.
"What does she mean?" Eliza asked.
"We were just having a little debate," a blonde-haired girl beside Bellatrix answered.
"Over why your mother left you with those old biddies rather than take you home."
Emmaline could feel rage striking a match in her chest.
"Whoever she was, she couldn't have been a self respecting witch," Zachary droned from behind her. "You're as good as the other mudbloods."
"And your father? My guess is he was a dog, and that's where you got that mangy fur on your head."
They laughed a deep, merciless laugh.
"How dare you!" Shouted Eliza.
Bellatrix grinned. "And your mother was told to stop bringing you to the brothel every night. Terrible for business."
Emmaline's chest caught fire and her nostrils flared. She fingered her wand in her pocket and wanted more than anything to draw it out.
"What's going on here?"
They turned to see Professor McGonagall wearing her trademark expression of disapproval.
"I'm certain you all have class to attend."
The Slytherins broke apart like a glass shattering but Eliza marched up to McGonagall.
"Professor, those horrid kids just said-"
"No matter, Eliza," Emmaline interrupted.
"Do you have an incident to report?" McGonagall asked.
"No, ma'am."
"But-"
"It's been resolved."
The elderly woman studied her through the small spectacles at the end of her nose. "If that's so, then move along ladies."
Her heels clicked as she marched away and Eliza turned to Emmaline. "Why didn't you do anything?"
"Like what?"
"Tell those kids to stop!"
"It wouldn't do any good with the likes of them."
"Or you could have blasted them with your wand!"
"I don't go around 'blasting' people, thank you very much."
"What about telling Professor McGonagall?"
"And be a snitch? There could be no greater shame."
"What's a snitch?"
"Something you won't be if you know what's good for you."
"Still. To stand there and do nothing..."
But Emmaline had come to a terrible admission inside her head: she wouldn't have known what to do with that wand if given the chance. Had McGonagall not shown up they'd still be standing in front of a group of bloodthirsty Slytherins with no escape. Fifth year she may have been, but she focused so much of her energy on Herbology that her defense skills were lacking. She could conjure expelliarmus but what was that against the awful incantations Bellatrix Lestrange probably knew?
Thus far, keeping her head and voice low in the back of the room had kept her safe enough. If the Slytherins knew about the orphanage they must have heard Eliza spill their story in the Great Hall at breakfast. She hoped this was a one-off, fresh from its discovery, and that their names hadn't been added to the list of unfortunates to terrorize with regularity. She'd happily go back to being invisible if it meant staying out of their path.
"And what is a brothel?"
After dinner, as students filed into the common rooms and cast their neckties aside, James drew out his most precious possession from beneath his bed: the vanishing cloak. They'd used it to accomplish their greatest feats, from sneaking up on Peeves to breaking into Dumbledore's office. The task of getting all four growing boys to fit underneath became a challenge with each new term but they could manage so long as they moved in unison. After six years together, practice made perfect. It was a point of pride that they hadn't been caught misbehaving in years. Older and wiser they may have been but old habits died hard. Remus wouldn't have made Prefect and James Head Boy without that cloak hiding the worst of their misdeeds.
Their biggest obstacle would be opening the Defense Against the Dark Arts door without Professor Kresnik hearing. Moving no faster than necessary, Remus, the most patient, turned the handle so that even thousands of years of friction between the metal pieces spoke in a whisper. Once inside they left the door ajar for an easier escape. Down the aisle, between the desks, up the stairs, one at a time, and finally, finally, in his office, where he sat reading a document, his hat removed and sitting with its brim facing up on his left side, and a hot cup of tea steaming by his wrist on the right.
They waited. They studied. They schemed. Then wordlessly James made the signal: he had an idea. Letting him take the lead, the rest watched with eager eyes the mischief their friend would concoct. James drew out his wand and pointed it at the teacup. It rose. He flicked and the cup hovered behind Kresnik's head, around his shoulders, and over the hat. James flicked again and the cup lowered. They couldn't see what was happening, but when it rose again it was empty of its contents. He returned it to its saucer as quietly as Remus turned the door handle downstairs.
Sirius was one step ahead, always reading James' thoughts with lightning speed, and drew out his own wand. With a wave, something in the classroom below crashed to the ground. Kresnik dropped the parchment, stood up on his feet, seized the hat on his desk, and pitched it onto his head.
This was the second most challenging part: not laughing and giving away their position, which was very difficult to do when Earl Grey was dripping down Kresnik's nose, chin, and neck. He bolted from the room and descended the stairs. They could hear his shoes slip and screech from the tea wetting the floor beneath him.
"Who's there?!" he shouted. Upon seeing nothing but an open door, he pursued his invisible foe out into the hallway.
Peter was the first to lose explode with laughter, followed by the rest.
"Gentleman," Sirius said when they could catch their breath, "This may be easier than we thought."
They had to hurry back to the common room to meet Lily and Eloise in time to start evening rounds.
"Where were you?" Lily asked.
"Doing one last practice before Friday," James said, out of breath. He slipped the cloak behind his back to Sirius.
"You practiced this morning."
"Yes, well, you know what they say about practice making-"
"And what is that?"
"That?" James asked, his voice a higher pitch. "My robe. Hot today. Sirius is going to run it upstairs."
"That I am," Sirius replied, bounding up two steps at a time.
"I sure hope you lot weren't up to no good."
"Us?" Peter asked.
"Of course not," Remus added, fixing his collar.
"Let's get on with it then," Eloise huffed.
After they emerged from behind the portrait and went their separate ways, Remus saw the Headmaster looking out a window further down the corridor. There was just enough daylight left to create a silhouette around his unmistakable figure.
"Professor," Remus said.
"Mr. Lupin, how are you this evening?" Dumbledore replied. "Excited for the quiddich tryouts, no doubt?"
"Very much, Sir. Sad that they'll be my last."
"When I first met you, you stood no higher off the ground than my shoulder. Now you can probably see the dust on top of my hat."
Remus chuckled. It seemed a lifetime ago that this man gave him his salvation out of the isolated existence with his parents; gave him a chance to come to school and taste the proper splendors of youth. Every minute of laughter, joy, and companionship at Hogwarts he owed to Albus Dumbledore, which made him feel all the worse for voicing the question on the tip of his tongue.
"I hope this doesn't sound imprudent," Remus said, "But I have to ask...was it wise to hire Professor Kresnik? Won't a monster hunter find it easy to recognize me?"
Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, I did think of that," he answered. "But I'm afraid it was a risk I had to take. It's a difficult position to fill, with its reputation, and he was eager to take it on. His skills in dueling are excellent. In spite of your existing talents in Defense Against the Dark Arts, you can learn a great deal from him."
"I understand. I don't want to burden you."
"You could never do as much. I made a promise to keep your identity a secret and I intend to keep it if you'll venture to trust me."
"Of course."
"Good lad," he replied. "And I might suggest a strict adherence to the rules if you prefer he doesn't take more notice of you than necessary."
Remus felt his face flush and he nodded. How did Dumbledore always know?
The Headmaster turned and ambled in the direction of his office.
"Thank you, Sir," Remus said. "Thank you. For everything."
The old man smiled and continued his stroll.
Remus rested both hands on the windowsill and watched the moon cast its faint glow on the ground. He had a couple of weeks before the trek to the Shrieking Shack. The Whomping Willow waited in the night to give him passage and keep tally of his visits. He didn't want to think of such a dreadful event on an otherwise perfect evening. He wanted to enjoy the other moons while they shone.
His eyes wandered to the greenhouses, half expecting the lights to be on, but the glass panels were as dark as the rest of the shadowed landscape. He wondered what Emmaline was up to. He thought of her hair coiled around his fingers. He drummed them on the cool stone ledge to give them a different occupation.