May 3rd, 1997

Remus Lupin was determined to fix everything. His Nymphadora was gone, the war was still being fought, and worse – Harry was dead.

The Malfoys had joined the Order after Harry's death, which was a pleasant surprise to all, but there was one person who just wasn't coping well with The Chosen One's death. Hermione.

That day, on the battleground that was once Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the little Gryffindor girl watched her best friend walk out to his death. She screamed when his body hit the floor, and for the second time, he held someone who he considered his cub as they were wracked with immeasurable grief.

After that, Hermione withdrew into herself, voice only emerging when around Remus, or Draco Malfoy. They drug her out on missions, where her reflexes and hardened-soldier persona arose as though waiting to strike. It was on one mission in particular that Remus figured out how he was going to fix everything, though.

Hermione and Remus were running through the Ministry, towards the Department of Mysteries because it was the place to most easily get lost. She had suggested it, actually. With the apparition wards around the Ministry dismantled – the building was a right mess, really, with the war still raging – they waited for the room to spin the doors, opening the first one, to the Time-Turner Room.

Bingo.

Without another thought, Hermione Disapparated, probably back to the safety of the wards around Remus's childhood home. Remus looked around at all the different Time-Turners, knowing that Hermione still had hers from the year he taught Defense Against the Dark Arts. He could stop it all.

No Second Wizarding War. No Peter Pettigrew. Sirius would never go to Azkaban. James and Lily and Harry wouldn't have to die for nothing. Lord Voldemort would die. He needed a plan, and fast, before anything worse happened.

Before he had the chance to send the only person who could make a difference back into the past, to prevent this all from happening.

Hermione Jean Granger.

Remus Disapparated.

"Remus?" Hermione's small voice greeted him from the hallway towards the kitchen. He saw her face, then, and wild mane of hair poking out from the Den, a bit of the ways down.

"Hermione," he greeted, then they pointed their wands at each other.

"What was the first thing you said to me and Draco after the Battle, and when," Remus asked her.

"It took me a few days to say: Thank you." They both relaxed.

Hermione fixed tea in the kitchen, while Remus popped over to Grimmauld Place to peek into the library for research about Time-Turners. Nobody was there, so it went fairly quick, and he was back before she was done. He tucked the large tome under his pillow in his bedroom, before coming down to the kitchen to join Hermione.

Sitting across from one another, he studied her face, realizing how much she looked like she could be his sibling. Her hair color was the same as his fathers had been, and her dark brown eyes looked just like his mother's. Hermione was dainty, like Hope Lupin had been in her youth. She was a bookish Gryffindor, like Remus himself, but was now quiet and withdrawn from the war, and resembled his father again in that trait.

Taking a sip of his tea, he decided that he had to send Hermione back to be his sister. It was the only way she would definitely beat Peter out of the running for the last Marauder, therefore taking care of that part of the past. He would have to De-Age her with a potion, since the Marauders really banded together as a group during second year, but he'd have to send her back to the summer before Hogwarts.

It was really up to her after that. But, he also wanted her to have real friends again, and to have a real childhood. Nothing really bad would be happening back then until sixth year, and then she would be able to help the Order after Graduation, and it would all be over with.

Now, if only he could pull this off.

After the tea was finished, it was late, so Remus bid Hermione goodnight and went to his room to look through the book about time altering and Time-Turner mechanics. He would need to spin it quite a few times in order to send her to the right date.

June 1st, 1998

The calculations were done, and the potion brewed for the correct number of years, and Remus was nervous.

It was a night where Hermione didn't have a mission, so he knew she'd be drowning herself in one of the good bottles of Ogden's Finest Firewhiskey that Draco had given her. Right now was about the time that she was completely pissed, but still coherent.

Remus almost felt bad for taking advantage of Hermione, waiting for her to get drunk to force her into this instead of asking her like a brave Gryffindor, but bloody hell he was a Marauder, and mischief be managed.

He crept down the stairs, bottle and necklace in hand, along with letters addressed to everyone who would need one, including Hermione herself. He'd have to tuck those into her jacket pocket, leaving the one for his mother somewhere within view. This was going to be so difficult.

There she was, in a wing-back chair that his mother had often sat in in front of the fireplace, except Hermione had slouched herself down low and was clutching the bottle in her hand with white knuckles. Remus slipped the Time-Turner into his pocket carefully, approaching the young witch slowly.

"Hermione, love?" He tentatively called to her, and she seemed to loosen her grip on the bottle a bit before turning towards him sluggishly.

"Remus," she said quietly, her voice only sounding a bit slurred.

"Hermione," he sighed sadly. Gently, he pried the firewhiskey from her grip, slipping the De-Aging potion into her hand to replace it.

"Drink up, sweetheart," Remus verbally nudged her, "you don't need a hangover in the morning."

Without a thought, Hermione threw back the potion. She wiped her mouth, looking confusedly down at the bottle she had just drank from, then leaned in to sniff it. Before she could, Remus snatched it away from her, and she fumbled for it. Remus would have laughed at her, passed out drunk and sprawled out on the carpet, if she wasn't hurting so badly. If she wasn't his cub to protect.

He leaned down, smoothing her hair away from her face, watching her slowly shrink down to her eleven-year-old body. Remus used his wand to magically adjust her clothes, they would have to do for now, and slipped her purple beaded bag inside her jacket. It had everything she'd need for a journey like this.

Remus slipped her wand out of her sleeve, knowing she'd get a new one when his father would take him, and now her, too, to Diagon Alley. He pulled the letter to his mother out of the stack he had, laying it across her sternum before tucking the remaining ones into her jacket opposite her beaded bag. Now that she was all set, he slid the Time-Turner from his pocket, lifting her head carefully to wrap the chain around her neck before clicking the button.

He watched Hermione disappear, and then there was nothing.

June 1st, 1971

Hope Lupin was reading and drinking tea in her favorite chair in front of the fireplace, which wasn't unusual for a Tuesday morning. Lyall was at work, and Remus was probably still in bed, with only a week before the full moon. What was unusual, however, was the fact that suddenly a little girl appeared on the floor in front of the fireplace, smelling like a pub and looking a right mess.

"Remus!" Hope yelled for her son, putting her book down and kneeling on the floor next to the girl. Remus pounded down the stairs, eyes glowing gold and expecting danger, only to find his mother and a girl who looked about his age.

"Mum?" Remus practically whispered, frightened by seeing her next to someone who looked like death warmed over.

"Remus, love," Hope breathed, "I need you to help me move this young lady to the couch so I can contact your father." Her voice was strong, but her hands were shaking, and she didn't know what else to do. She was a Muggle, so Lyall would have to handle this. He would know what to do.

Remus picked up the girl carefully, noticing that under the smell of firewhiskey she had a very comforting scent that was mixed with something familiar, and laid her across the couch that was against the far wall. He heard his mum fiddling with the floo, to call his father home no doubt, but his eyes stayed firmly glued to the face of this girl who had appeared out of nowhere.

She had a myriad of tiny scars across her face, and a long pink one at the base of her throat that looked like a knife had been pressed there once long ago. Aside from her scars, she had a button nose and long, bushy curls that reminded him of his mother. Her cheeks and nose were dusted with a few light freckles, and her eyelashes were long, and the color of her hair reminded him of his father.

As if the thought conjured him, Lyall Lupin stepped out from the fireplace into the quiet sitting room of his quaint little house to find that there was an extra person in it. Remus was leaned over the body of a small girl, and his wife was a few steps behind his son, the expression on her face a mix of worried and afraid.

"What happened?" Lyall asked, startling his family. Remus was on his feet in a second, standing almost protectively in front of the body on the couch. Lyall ignored him, moving towards Hope and expecting an explanation.

"She – she just appeared, with that gold trinket around her neck and smelling like she'd been doused in a bottle of your firewhiskey." Hope said, choking back tears. Lyall put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it in comfort before taking his wand from his pocket.

The closer he got to the couch, the more he noticed Remus stiffen.

"I'm just going to cast a few diagnostic spells, Remus," he explained nervously, "she's a little girl, I'm not going to hurt her." That seemed to do the trick, as the boy stepped to the side, allowing his father to kneel next to the couch and wave his wand in a few complicated patterns.

The whole house was eerily silent as they waited.

Finally, Lyall sighed.

"She's fine, but she won't wake up for some time." He got to his feet and turned back towards the fireplace. "I have to go back to work, just tuck her into the spare room until she wakes up, then we'll figure out what to do."

He kissed Hope on the cheek, then vanished back to the Ministry.

As soon as Lyall was gone, Remus was hovering over the girl again. He stole a glance at the gold trinket around her neck that his mother had mentioned, when he noticed a cream-colored envelope on the girl's chest. Gently, he pulled it out from under the necklace, noticing that it was addressed to his mother.

"Mum, she's got a letter for you," he said, handing her the envelope.

Hope went back to her favorite chair, prying open the seal and pulling the letter out.

Dear Hope,

It is with immeasurable grief that I trust this girl in your care. Her name is Hermione, and she reminds me of you and your husband in so many ways. Let her be a sister to Remus, let her live a full life as the amazing witch I know she will be. She has been through so much. We were at war. I know she has nightmares; let Remus comfort her, as the brother she had here died, and she is in great need of a new one.

Around her neck is a Time-Turner, hide it. This means that she comes from the future, and will occasionally know things you do not. Guard her just like you would a Seer. In her inner jacket pockets, you will find a stack of more letters, and a small purple bag. When she wakes up, have her check the bag, as I've stashed things for your family in there. Take the letters before she wakes, though, and distribute them for me. One is for her, and one for your Remus. The other she may not know about.

Please, keep my little girl safe. Adopt her, love her as I did.

Sincerely,

A future friend

"Oh, my goodness," Hope whispered as she finished reading, feeling that her cheeks were wet.

"Mum? Is everything okay?" Remus asked

"Yes, my sweet," she said, sniffling and wiping her face, "why don't you go have breakfast?"

Remus looked a bit skeptical of his mother, but knew a polite order when he heard one. As soon as he was banging around in the kitchen, Hope approached the girl, brushing her hair away from her face. She slipped her delicate hands under her neck, unclasping the gold chain and tucking the Time-Turner into one of her small apron pockets. Hope then searched the girls inner jacket, coming up with a stack of letters and the purple bag that her letter had mentioned. She left the bag, rifling through the letters and noticing that the stack was modest: one for Hermione, one for Remus, one for Albus Dumbledore.

When Lyall arrived home from work at half five, he was happy to see that the sitting room was empty. He hung his cloak next to the fireplace, putting his briefcase right under it, and ventured towards the kitchen and the sounds of his wife making dinner.

She was alone, stirring a pot on the stove, save for their owl who was perched on the island next to a stack of what appeared to be letters, one laying open.

"Hello, love," Lyall said, coming in to kiss her on the cheek in greeting. "Has the girl woken yet?"

Hope put the spoon down gently, turning towards her husband.

"No, but she had some letters with her and I think you should read the one addressed to me," she said, picking it up from the island and holding it out to him.

He took it gently, his soft green eyes scanning the words. Hope went back to preparing their dinner as Lyall read, eventually turning the stove off and pulling bowls from the cabinet along with a loaf of bread from the pantry. She tucked the still sealed letters that lay on the island into her apron. He was still reading when she called up the stairs for Remus to come down to dinner. As Remus came bounding down the stairs, Lyall set the letter down.

"You really want to do this, don't you?" He asked his wife. Hope nodded, and he sighed. Remus crept into the kitchen quietly, paying attention to his parents.

Hope laid out their meal, and they all sat around their modest table with it's comfortable, but rickety chairs. Remus's eyebrows were drawn together as he paid close attention to his parents' conversation. He prided himself on being a particularly bright 11-year-old.

"We'll have to do a blood adoption," Lyall was saying, "I'll take her with me to the Ministry."

"Can we give it a few days?" Hope asked, beginning to tear her bread into smaller chunks. "I'd like to make sure Hermione's alright first. And I'll need to send that letter she had for Albus Dumbledore off after dinner."

Lyall nodded, agreeing with letting the girl – Hermione – get settled in before they did anything rash. After that, the three Lupins finished their dinner in silence. Once they were done, Lyall took it upon himself to retreat to his study, beginning a letter to the Birth & Children Records division of the European Magical Family Department of the Ministry. Remus helped his mother with the dishes, thinking about the fact that the mysterious girl upstairs had had letters for both his mother, and someone else.

"Mum," Remus started while he was drying his hands, "did um, Hermione, have any more letters?"

His mother gave him a small smile.

"Actually, she did, love," she answered. Her hands were already dry, so she reached into one of her apron pockets and pulled out two more thick envelopes, handing one to him.

"For…for me?" Remus looked down at his name, elegantly scrawled across the paper, in shock.

"There's one for her, too," Hope explained, "I'll bring it upstairs in a bit. Why don't you go on and read yours?" She smiled down at her son.

Remus returned her smile with one of his own, clutching the envelope in his hands. He turned and ran for the stairs, bounding up them two at a time and sprinting down the hall to his room, the last one on the left, right across from where Hermione was staying.

Remus J. Lupin,

There must be so much going on right now, but I can only hope that your mother has listened to my plea. If she has, my Hermione is to be your sister, and I ask that you take care of her. She has lost so much, too much. She had a best friend here, and he was killed. They were like brother and sister. She has scars that may take her some time to talk about, and for that I am sorry. She has nightmares; she will need you, Remus.

I am a werewolf, just like you, so I know you understand when I say that she is part of my Pack, and it is hard letting her go. Protect her, love her, care for her. Make her part of yours.

I feel obligated to tell you more about my Hermione, because she's your Hermione now, isn't she? She takes her tea with two sugars (and a splash of milk in the mornings), she loves orange marmalade on her toast, and blueberries and raspberries in her oatmeal. Her favorite meal is fish and chips with mushy peas. She's wicked smart, and will no doubt be good at every subject in school. She's very brave, and very loyal, and she has always wanted a brother. She will not judge you for being a werewolf; I know she never judged me.

Also, if she happens to know things, trust her. I fear there may be a bit of Seer in her, but keep that in the family, or in your Pack. Don't let her fall into her despair, and don't let her be alone.

Things are already changing for her, for the better. I sent her to your family for you to be a part of her better life.

Sincerely, and gratefully,

A friend

Remus tried to swallow the lump in his throat, dropping the letter onto his small desk and putting his face in his hands. Whoever this was trusted him with Hermione without even knowing him, had begged him to take care of her, and to trust her.

But weren't werewolves viewed as monsters?

A high-pitched scream pierced his thoughts. His senses in overdrive, Remus flung his bedroom door wide open, racing across the hall and into Hermione's room, one line from the letter seared into his mind.

She has nightmares; she will need you, Remus.

Hermione was still screaming, thrashing about on the bed and sobbing between screams. He scrambled to her side, hearing his parents pounding up the stairs and in a right panic. Thinking quickly, he put his arms around her to stop her movement, running a hand through her wild curls.

"Hermione!" His mother's voice was at the foot of the bed, full of worry. Remus clung to the girl tighter, feeling like it was his job to comfort her.

"Mum, it's a nightmare," Remus explained, pressing Hermione into his chest as the screaming died down. Now the girl was just sobbing, her tiny hands clutching the front of his shirt.

He continued to stroke her hair, then moved to rub her back but found his mother's hand already there, pressing soothing circles into the length of Hermione's spine. He sighed in relief as she seemed to drift back to sleep, clinging to him tightly with her face pressed into the crook of his neck.