So, while I've been an avid reader of HP fics I've never quite worked up the courage to post one of my own. (despite the 20+ WIPs saved on my laptop) Any and all constructive criticism on my writing is more than welcome, but no flames please guys. If time travel, Remione (eventually), werewolves, and a serious disruption of canon events isn't your cup of tea, I would advise against reading further. If anyone is interested in being a BETA for me, please feel free to message me!

As with all fanfictions, I own nothing other than any original characters I may introduce and any ideas my plot bunnies screeched about until I wrote them down. J.K.R. owns this world, I'm just playing in it.


Remus Lupin was dead.

The thought seemed to echo repeatedly through her mind as she sat on a stone that once had been part of the Hogwarts castle. A slight tremble shook her too thin frame as she leaned forward, elbows on her knees and face held in her hands. A thin streak on each side ran through the grime covering her cheeks as silent tears sporadically ran down the sharp angles that made up her face. Like so many others that found themselves surviving the final battle between the dark lord and Harry Potter, Hermione Granger was in shock.

Remus was a werewolf, magic couldn't kill him. He couldn't be dead.

Some far away thought struck her that she should move from her perch, away from the horrid sight of the two that had been lain next to each other as the bodies of the fallen had been gathered. She just didn't have the energy to tear her eyes away from the figure that had sandy brown hair laying on the ground a few yards away. Later perhaps she would question why this particular death was hitting her so hard when so many others she held dear to her heart had also fallen but at that moment her brain couldn't handle much of anything. After all, Remus Lupin was dead.

She was an intelligent witch. She understood death, she had certainly been exposed to enough of it. However, the task seemed too much for even her superior mind. In vain, she continued to watch the still chest for any signs of breath. The hand that laid closest to her for any twitch. Logically, she understood Remus was gone. In her heart though Hermione couldn't help but pray for some sign of life from the handsome wolf. Denial was never healthy, but in this case, she couldn't help but reject the thought of Remus being gone.

Remus couldn't be dead, could he?

Distantly she was aware of the others around her, Ron and the other Weasley's were gathered around Fred's corpse. George was laying there as well after being heavily sedated for his own safety. Even under the powerful effects of the potion George wouldn't be removed from his brother's side. Andromeda Tonks was sitting not far from her own seat holding the only remaining Lupin in her arms, the poor witch looked nearly catatonic. Only her arms remained solid around the small boy. Harry was working with a few others who had found the strength to carry the fallen from wherever they could be found to the grounds, so they could receive proper respects. Currently the boy who lived was carrying the body of Lavender Brown with the assistance of Kingsley to a cleared spot near the Lupins.

Was that a breath? Remus, please. Ah, no. Simply the wind rustling the tattered jacket he still wore. Remus was dead.

The sight of Lavender stirred a vague memory in Hermione. Still feeling detached from the moment, Hermione recalled blasting the half wolf form of Fenrir off of the girl during the fight. Apparently, it hadn't been enough to save her. Though Hermione had managed to earn herself a number of wounds from the wolf in return for her efforts.

Oh, that's right. She was wounded, wasn't she? Getting up to locate Madam Pomfrey or another healer didn't seem worth it when so many others needed care more urgently. She couldn't feel the pain from any of her injuries, thought the bite above her hip was oozing warm blood over her lower abdomen. The hot liquid was a sharp contrast to the cold that permeated her very bones.

How could he be gone? Remus was larger than life. Remus Lupin couldn't just die like this.

Harry had laid Lavender down, the girl's hair had been arranged to cover the gruesome wounds on the side of her neck. Hermione appreciated that. Seeing the torn hole in her once rival's neck had reminded her of the wolf. Which only lead her mind back to Remus. Had Fenrir fallen in the battle as well? Perhaps it would bring some peace to Bill and Remus, two who had fallen victim to the brutal man.

Fenrir had hurt Remus. Maybe Fenrir had been the one to kill him. Remus Lupin was dead. Remus was dead. Remus was gone. REMUS WA-

"…'Mione?" a tired voice pierced the fog covering her mind. Slowly, almost feeling as if her neck couldn't support her head, she raised her head to see Harry standing before her with a look of concern on his face. The shrieking voice repeating the horrible truth finally stopped as her eyes met the bloodshot emerald of Harry's.

"Sorry Harry. I was a bit lost in thought, what was that?" she managed to reply after a moment, a worn smile attempting to cross her lips though it came across as more of a grimace.

"I asked if you were alright." Her best friend repeated, the look of concern growing ever more severe as he took in her appearance. Her normally wild hair was matted with blood and covered in leaves along with other debris. The tremor that had started when she sat down had worsened and the skin that previously held a tan from their months on the run now appeared sickly pale. The dark circles under her eyes looked even worse with the parlor of her skin and her eyes were a tad sunken in. As he examined her appearance another tear ran its way down her cheek, seemingly without her notice. She hadn't even cleared herself of the blood covering her, which he was beginning to question if it was hers or another's.

"No worse than anyone else, I'll go to the medi-witch tent once some others are tended to. No need to worry."

He nodded slowly, doubt clear in his expression. "Alright. Make sure that you do, or I'll bring Madam Pomfrey over here myself."

Silence fell between the two for a moment as Harry sat himself down next to her on the remains of the wall. "I can't believe it's over." Fell from his lips.

"But at what cost?" was all that she could manage in response as she looked out over the corpses of their friends. Already more than fifty seemed to be laying on the grounds, with more being brought by Kingsley and the other aurors.

Others were slowly talking of funerals and memorials, though the task seemed impossible in the sight of all those fallen during the battle. At her words Harry too paused to look out over the castle grounds, shoulders gradually slumping as he took in the sight of all the bodies. "A steep one 'Mione. I don't know how, but we will all recover eventually. We owe it to them. All of them."

A small hand reached out to squeeze his own, accompanied by a nod and a small smile. "Of course Harry."

He gave her a small smile in return before rising once more to go see Andromeda with his god-son. Once more alone with her thoughts, Hermione wondered how anyone could recover from all this loss. Remus was dead. Tonks was dead. Fred was dead. Lavender, Colin, Snape, Sirius, Crabbe, so many others. A little distance from the Lupin duo laid a small girl, a second year or perhaps a third at the oldest. Her tiny form had nearly been ripped in half, the marks showing that the infamous spell of Antonin Dolohov that marked Hermione's own body had killed the child.

Somehow the sight of the young girl was enough to spur Hermione into moving for the first time in hours. Shakily she rose to her feet and started to stumble towards the child. She absently noted the blue and bronze tie marking the girl as a Ravenclaw. That same tie slowly became the focal point of her vision as darkness started to overtake her sight and dizziness began to make her head swim. 'I was nearly a Ravenclaw' was the last thought to cross her mind before unconsciousness took her.


Hermione's dreams were chaotic and fevered. It was more like a swiftly rushing collage of images, memories, and thoughts than any other dream she had experienced previously. She clung to the image of herself and Remus together on a couch in the Black Library, reading a book and debating the idea of a werewolf becoming an animagus. The following image contained a memory of herself, Ron, and Harry in their tent while on the run. Fenrir attacking Lavender, the poor girl's blood and flesh everywhere. Bellatrix cackling in manic madness while carving into Hermione's arm. The sorting hat arguing with her over which house she belonged in. Her mother crying when McGonagall came to explain that she was a witch. Remus in his wolf form answering her howl. Bill in the hospital after being attacked by Fenrir. Fenrir attacking her, Lavender's blood still smeared all over his face. Running through the forest, but she wasn't in her own body. Amber eyes surrounded by a chocolate fur covered snout filled her vision.

With a sharp gasp, she woke up. The familiar blue-green curtains surrounding the bed she was laying on told Hermione that she was in the hospital wing inside the castle. One of the few parts of the building that hadn't suffered much damage during the battle luckily. She shifted her arms back to help support her body while she attempted to sit up before a sharp pain tore through her abdomen. The wound above her hip radiated a sharp tugging pain before she could feel the dampness spreading from her hip across her lower stomach.

"What are you doing!" Madam Pomfrey demanded in a shrill voice as she pulled the curtain providing Hermione privacy back from the bed. "If you've managed to reopen the wound, I swear to Circe miss Granger I will keep you tied to the bed young lady!"

"I haven't-" was all she managed to get out before Madam Pomfrey ignored her and continued to speak.

"Three broken ribs, multiple lacerations, a chunk of flesh missing from a bite wound, blood loss, and going into shock! Yet somehow you didn't manage to find your way to the medics! No, no, no, you sat there until you managed to pass out and had to be carried in. Of all the irresponsible…" Poppy continued to rant as she rapidly ran diagnostic spells over Hermione and began mixing together various cures. Harry, Bill, and Arthur walked in at that moment, saving Hermione from further berating from the medi-witch.

"I guess you won't be the only wolfy one now after all Bill." She attempted to joke as they gathered around the bedside that Madam Pomfrey wasn't puttering about on.

A slight grimace crossed Bill's face, the expression seeming even more severe with the scars that ravaged his handsome image. "Fenrir was the one that bit you, wasn't he?"

Hermione simply nodded in response as Harry scowled before providing them with a run down of what had occurred between herself, Lavender, and Fenrir when she had been searching for Harry. Luckily for all involved in the final battle, it hadn't been the night of a full moon or there would be plenty of new wolves. According to Arthur, there had been several people wounded by Fenrir's wolves during the battle though Fenrir himself seemed to have been strangely absent. Only a handful of individuals appeared to have encountered him, namely Lavender, herself, and Bill. Perhaps a few of the fallen had also encountered him, but they no longer lived to tell their tale.

The talk may have gone further if Madam Pomfrey hadn't decided at that moment that it was time for more skele-grow and dittany. The latter of which left Hermione mumbling about mummies and bandages which, of course, nobody besides Harry understood. The boy who lived managed to hide his chuckle behind a cough and suggested everyone could come back later. Madam Pomfrey had an entire tray of potions and salves for Hermione to take so it seemed like a good idea.

As the trio exited the hospital wing, Bill Weasley turned to get one last look at Hermione. Something seemed off about the girl's scent, though perhaps he just wasn't accustomed to the scent of another who had been exposed to lycanthropy. There wasn't much to be done at the moment, so he simply made a mental note to keep an eye on her once she was recovered, after all knowing Hermione she would have plenty of questions about how the changes would affect her.

After all, Remus hadn't been entirely correct in the assumption that the only effects of lycanthrope exposure involved a bit better eye sight and a craving for rare steak. Though Remus couldn't be blamed, he was a full wolf. He only knew that being scratched by Fenrir wasn't enough to be fully infected. But these thoughts were for another time Bill supposed, scratching the back of his head as he rejoined the rest of the Weasley clan. Fred was gone, never to return and George deserved his full attention. Charlie had always been the closest to him, but the twins were still his younger brothers. The loss of Fred was agonizing. Bill couldn't even begin to comprehend how painful it was for George to lose his other half.