The first day back at the start of a new term was smooth. Remus was entering the point in his condition's cycle that had him energetic and lively, most of the pain forgotten. Emeline was making it to classes (mostly) on time and soaking in plenty of moments with the golden trio. When she wasn't listening to Hermione rattle on about a new essay or other, she was nestled up in the Hufflepuff common room reading or in her father's classroom conversing. But this afternoon was different. This afternoon, Emeline would be taking her first trip to Hogsmeade, having never had a parent's signature for the trips beforehand. She noted to thank her dad in fluent sarcasm later on for not breaking the news sooner so that he could sign her slip. He was hesitant to sign this one, with the looming threat of his old friend, however, after the holiday they'd just shared, he was trying desperately not to be overbearing or treat her unfairly. Practically everyone was going and they were to stay within safe bounds. She flung her arms around him, screaming with glee when he caved in and signed on the dotted line. With an eye roll, he held her close and cautioned her to be careful. And now the day was here.

Emeline hummed excitedly as she stuffed her wand and some change in her cloak.

"Psst!"

She spun around on her heel and saw George standing under the castle's canopy.

"George!" She smiled and made way to him quickly. He grinned and beckoned her under a secretive corner near the stairs.

"How was holiday, E? I never heard from you again."

"Oh, right." She trailed off for a moment, remembering their argument. "It was great, for the most part. I was just so busy I forgot to send the owl. I'm sorry."

"I'm wounded. But I'll recover. Nevermind, I have something better to discuss."

"I'm intrigued." She crossed her arms and cocked an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to continue.

He drew something out of his pocket and slowly handed it to her.

"I've debated this. But I think it could be useful on your first trip out. Fred took quite a deal of convincing; I'm not willing to divulge what I've had to promise him in order to pass this down to you, but we've come to the conclusion it can be beneficial for you on your first trip out. I, however, privately have another hunch."

Emeline laughed. "Parchment? Blank parchment. Is this some sort of joke?"

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Emeline's eyes widened when she drew his want away and the parchment slowly bled ink onto its pages. She read the front and gasped.

"Moony? You don't think?"

"I do." George grinned. "Nice to be friends with one of the marauders protégés. We owe them so much."

"But this-"

"-shows everyone and what they are doing all day long. Right at your fingertips; exactly where they are."

"Brilliant. This is bloody brilliant."

"I hoped you'd think so." George grinned, crossing his arms now and leaning against the castle's stone. "For this priceless gift, will you grant me the honor of buying you a hot chocolate on today's excursion."

Emeline's breath caught in her throat. They were friends, right?

He'd never been forward to openly be alone with her.

"I would love that."

•

Emeline had a wonderful time with the golden trio and the twins creeping up behind them throughout the day. Neville was a riot trying to feed Trevor a chocolate frog and overall, everything was enjoyable. They chatted end of term in a few months, Hermione passing the essays she was unnecessarily worried about, and Harry and Ron didn't spend the entire time sulking over the dark cloud of Sirius Black or failing his term paper, respectfully. When it came time to meet George, he spared no time sending the group off and holding his word.

"Off with you lot. I promised E a hot chocolate. Little something I learned from Professor Lupin. Shall we?" He extended his arm to her theatrically and, ignoring the trios quirked brows and Hermione's subtle gasp, George led her into Honeydukes.

"Well, have you had any spare time alone with your new asset?"

"A bit, but they've really stuck beside me today for the most part. I almost wonder if my dad put them up to it."

"Do you know how weird it is to hear you call him that?"

Emeline chuckled. "Tell me about it."

"2 chocolates, please," he asked. "Topping?" He turned to Emeline.

"Please. Cream and caramel."

"Fancy. You heard the lady."

He handed over a galleon and winked. "Keep the change."

She took her hot chocolate and looked up at him.

"Look at you, giving out tips."

"Eh, you know, business is well."

Emeline rolled her eyes without the slightest idea what he was referring to. They found a seat situated quietly in the corner, away from the hustle and bustle and George smiled at her.

"I hope this isn't weird; seeing as I'm a Fifth year and all. But we've always been close. I thought it would be nice to steal some one-on-one together. Pick your brain about your father's map."

"Ah, I see. I'm a means to an end here."

George tossed his head back and forth, jokingly contemplating. "You could say that."

She laughed and rolled her eyes once again.

"I don't think this is weird. Never a dull moment with you, which is enlightening."

"Well I'm happy to hear that. I haven't had the bravery to ask you on my own, though." He dropped to a whisper. "I suppose it's safe to tell you now that my courage today came from Fred, this was-"

"- what you promised him." Her breath caught in her throat. With a wink, George nodded and took another swig of his hot chocolate.

They were not just friends.

•

She was on cloud nine when she walked back to her dormitory that night. Her brain was positively swimming and her heart was pounding.

George Weasley fancied her after all. How was that even possible? The years difference mattered slightly, but Emeline was nearly fourteen already and George had not yet hit sixteen quite. It was close, but for a brief time they were only one heartbeat separate age wise. Her mother had always told her that boys in her year took longer to mature. Maybe it evened out.

Still glowing, she shrugged it off and entered her dorm, sinking into her bed as quickly as possible, giggling to herself.

She pulled the Marauder's Map from her clocks quickly and glossed over hundreds of names, stopping on one.

He was already in the dorm opposite her, too. And it seemed Fred was still out with Angelina Johnson.

Was George in a similiar position - lying in his bed on a complete high?

She liked to think so.

Emeline studied the map more closely. Her father was already in his teaching quarters for the night and the trio were nearly to their dorms, too. She expected Hermione any minute. Upon closer inspection, though, there was a fourth name huddled close to the trio. Her eyes widened and her heart, beating so fast with excitement moments before, could have halted altogether.

Peter Pettigrew

She knew the name. She knew her dad's many theories. The only one that gave him a chance at his friendship having been genuine, was one in which there was a world Peter Pettigrew was alive.

"Mischief Managed." She whispered hurriedly, shoving it back into her pocket and rushing down the stairs to the common room.

How the hell could he be with them?

But, when she bounded down the stairs, breathlessly, the trio stared at her with wide eyes.

"Everything alright, Em?" Hermione asked.

Emeline's eyes shot between the three of them, back and forth, and all around them frantically. It was the three of them as normal. Crookshanks, Hedwig, and Scabbers with them, as normal. She swallowed thickly.

"I-well, y-yes. Yes ofcourse, I'm great. I was just heading to check in with my dad."

"Em, you'll be in a great deal of trouble if anyone sees you, it's nightfall!" Hermione cried, shaking her head.

"Right, I know. I'm careful. I was meant to tell him when we were back and I just completely forgot."

"Right, I'd forget too if George had swooned me." Ron rolled his eyes dramatically.

Emeline turned a shade of pink she wasn't sure she was capable of.

"Oh, shut up, Ron. I'll be back, Hermione."

They all nodded unanimously as she hurried off.

She could hear her heart in her throat as she ran through the halls to the teacher's quarters.

One. Two. Three. She ran past the doors.

Finally arriving on the fourth door, she rapped on his quickly and loudly, not stopping until the door swung open.

"Emeline," Remus started, wiping sleep from his eyes and mid-yawn finishing: "what are you doing out of your dorm this hour?"

She had already forced her way past him and he shut the door, waving his hand to offer her the only seat in the room - the foot of his bed with him.

"Dad, you need to see this."

She ripped the map from her cloak and tapped her wand to the front. Remus' eyes widened and he grabbed it from her quickly.

"Where did you find this?"

"No matter. Look!"

Their faces were almost the same shade of white when Remus realized what his daughter was showing him.

"Dad, tell me this is a gag map."

"No, Emeline. It never lies. Peter Pettigrew is alive."