A/N. And…we're back! Happy Hallow's Eve to all! Big shout-out goes to the person who guesses what we'll be dressing Remus up as for his first Halloween!

This is the sequel to the story Blacklisted, which you can find on my profile. Nothing (and I mean nothing) will make sense unless you skedaddle over there and read that story first *smiles*

Voldemort has returned and so has Harry Potter. Coincidence or not? Draco has been assigned the position of Senior Undersecretary to Minister Snow who is asking a lot of questions about Margot. With Harry back in action, faith is restored in the Order and there is a lot of scheming. Meanwhile, Hermione starts her Second Year with Moony's Academy and a new class of Muggle-borns and Draco finds that if he wants to succeed, he'll have to get his hands dirty.

…~oOo~…

"When your time comes to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled with fear of death, so that when their time comes they weep and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again in a different way. Sing your death song, and die like a hero going home."

~Tecumseh

Prologue: A Hero Going Home

The sky was steel grey, threatening a storm. But even if the heavens fell in a glorious crash, with lighting and thunder, no one among them would notice. They were all riveted, still as statues, as the Dark Lord and his followers emerged from the Forest.

"Harry…" the youngest Weasley whispered, her voice shattering the silence. "No! Harry!"

Ron caught his little sister in a firm grip around her arms before she could pitch herself towards Harry's body and Voldemort himself. He wrestled her, choking back his own sobs, murmuring over and over, "Stop, Ginny, please stop…" She sobbed hysterically, earning a cackle from Bellatrix Lestrange.

All of the soldiers, Dumbledore's Army, felt the weight of defeat on their shoulders. There weren't enough of them left to go on, and their opponents had too many to even try. It would be suicide. Many of them, Gryffindors ready to go out blazing, would have fought even so. But the older, the wiser, gave them meaningful stares. The professors and the parents would have as many lives saved as possible, even if it meant surrender.

Remus Lupin was tired. Too tired and beaten. He had no more tears to shed, for he'd lost every single one over the body of his wife. He'd held onto her for as long as possible, until he was finally wrenched away at the news of Harry's journey to the Forest.

The love of his life was dead. Never would he wake up next to her. He'd never watch her hair flash bubblegum pink when she got excited like a three-year-old. He'd never watch her rock their son in his nursery again.

The battle all seemed pointless. He'd lost his wife, they'd lost the fight, and they would lose more loved ones now that the Dark Lord was at large.

He was speaking. Giving a speech that made his minions all bright-eyed and manic. He couldn't process all the words. But when he saw the young Hermione, all stained with dirt and blood, crying silently, he put his hand on her shoulder. He remembered her as an eager just-teenager, crazy-haired, teacher's pet. She was so brilliant and that brilliance would be wasted so young.

Voldemort would kill her. That much Remus was sure of. It would bring him sadistic glee to destroy her. She stood for everything he was against. A Muggle-born, a genius one at that, and Harry Potter's best friend on top of it. It was too perfect.

Remus would not let it happen. Not while he watched. Not when he still had that last flicker of fight left in him.

It wasn't because she was like his wife – because she wasn't, she was the complete opposite – or because he was her professor many years before. No, it was because he saw so much of Lily in her, along with plenty of himself. The brilliance, the stubbornness, the penchant for getting into sticky situations. The determination. The belief that above all Good would prevail.

It was happened faster than he thought when the girl was ripped out from under his hand by Greyback. Hermione fought against him wildly while he clutched all of her hair in his paw of a hand, refusing to lie down and take it even though she knew her fate. She kicked viciously, but next to the hulking Greyback she only looked like an angry kitten.

"Hermione Granger…" Voldemort purred while Greyback forced her onto her knees. "You have been a thorn in my side for far too long, dear. You will be the first of the Mudbloods to die."

There wasn't a single sound from among the crowd.

"Any last words?"

It was quiet for a long time before Hermione shook her head. Remus wished he could cry.

But instead, before Voldemort could put his wand to her head, Remus said, "No."

There were a few gasps and shuffles while Remus walked forward calmly. All of the Death Eaters raised their wands, but their master held up his hand and they all put them away. He wanted to heat what Remus had to say.

"Take me instead," Remus said simply, sounding more confident than he felt. "I'm a half-breed, a half-blood. That will have to do, because I won't let you kill that girl. Not while I watch, not while I live."

"No," Hermione said, almost reflexively. Her eyes were wide with horror, shaking her head slowly.

Voldemort seemed to be calculating the trade, watching Hermione's painful reaction, but then he gave a nod. "I accept your sacrifice, half-breed."

"No," Hermione gasped, eyes bulging while Remus walked towards her. "No, no, NO! Please, no! Not him! Kill me, please, not him! He's got a son!" she sobbed while Remus lifted her with some effort.

"Go back to your friends," Remus said to her under his breath. "Run. As far and as fast as you can. And please…take care of Teddy."

"No!" Hermione begged, tears falling rapidly down her face as she clutched onto Remus tightly. He pulled her back to the very front of the masses of people. Arthur Weasley was the one who took hold of her elbow, keeping her back.

When Remus Lupin kneeled willingly before the Dark Lord, accepting his death and execution, he felt oddly at peace. It was the comfort that Hermione would live and that his son would be in good hands.

Remus closed his eyes. It was only a moment.

And it really was faster than falling asleep.

…~oOo~…

~ So Long And Thanks For All The Fish ~