Phantom Faces at the Window

by prophet-of-troy

Hermione's dreams are out of control; a world where dogs are men and castles are schools. The voices in her head are even more so; find Harry. She doesn't even know a Harry. But she knows the stranger she runs into who introduces himself as Remus Lupin. He says he knows her, that they were friends, but wouldn't she remember that? Wouldn't she remember magic?

2. Whispers of Home

Chapter two: Whispers of Home

"Burrow?" She asked, confused and grateful for the sudden lack of voices she felt should have happened from hearing that. "What are you talking about? I-"

Find Harry. Well it was nice for a minute.

"You've been having strange thoughts, haven't you?" He asked suddenly. "Strange dreams, voices, things you feel like you should remember?"

Hermione stopped, pursing her lips and looking at Padfoot. "How do you know about that?"

"Because I know why you don't remember. But you have to trust me. Can you do that?"

She glanced back at him before crouching in front of Padfoot, scratching him on his muzzle the way she knew he liked. "What do you think," she whispered lowly, not knowing Remus heard her. "Can I trust him, boy? He might be able to make it stop."

Padfoot kissed her face in a clear affirmative. She smiled, hugging him close and stepping away to face the man who'd brought her here. He was looking at Padfoot with a look of guilt and concern.

"You and your dog seem close," he commented in a way he hoped sounded offhandedly.

"He's my best friend," she said. "But he can be vicious, so don't do anything to hurt me or he'll likely rip your... throat... out, or something."

Her threat, that she'd only made to cover how terrified she was, fell flat as he smiled. "I don't doubt that. Come on, there are some people that have been missing you." He stopped, smiling at her. "It's good to have you back, Hermione."

"Okay," she said as they walked. "How do you know me?"

"I was your teacher," he said.

"What? No you weren't. I think I would remember that."

"Yes," he said shortly. "You think you would."

Hermione recoiled and Padfoot growled, surprising Remus into looking at him and back to Hermione. "I'm sorry. It's just, we've needed you. But it isn't your fault."

He kept walking, and Hermione followed with Padfoot trotting close to her. Up ahead, she could see something that she supposed was meant to be a house- completely unbalanced in its floor planning that Hermione had the thought that they should have fired their architect. But it was so crudely built, that she didn't think it likely it was made by an architect. Not to mention, no well educated architect could have designed the disaster waiting to happen that she saw before her.

"Come on," he said. "They've waited long enough."

"A-are you sure it's safe?"

"Who's out there?" A voice called, familiar as Remus had been.

"This, is Amos Diggory, everyone. Works with me, at the Ministry. And this strapping young boy must be Cedric, am I right?"

"Cedric asked me to bring his body back. I couldn't leave him..." Hermione pressed her fingers to her temple again, the only thing that seemed to help at all, and tried to keep up with Remus- ignoring the pang of heartache that came with the last whisper in her head.

"It's me, Arthur."

"What was the first thing I ever said to you?" The man asked back, almost threateningly.

Remus stopped. "Merlin, Arthur, that was over fifteen years ago."

There was a pause. "Answer it."

Remus sighed. "You heard my mother was a Muggle and you asked what the function of a battery was. What was my answer?"

"You told me they did stuff. Rather eloquent, don't you think?"

Remus grinned and seemed to pick up his pace to embrace the other man. When Hermione caught sight of him, as she had with Remus, she immediately knew that she should know who he was. The man, Arthur, seemed relieved to see Remus- and vice versa. He was not terribly tall, but near the same height as Remus with red hair and a kind face that looked tired. And stressed.

"Come in and tell what news you might have. Molly's been cooking like a fiend waiting for the group to get back..." He trailed off, his eyes looking past Remus and at Hermione. "Merlin's beard. Is it really-"

"She doesn't remember anything, Arthur, but she's starting to."

Arthur didn't seem to hear him, though, running towards her with the obvious intent on embracing her as well. Hermione froze, terror filling her again until Padfoot stepped between them and growled warningly.

Remus came over to them. "It's alright," he told Padfoot. "Come, Hermione, and I will explain everything if you're patient."

She hesitated. "I want to know right now," she said. "What's going on? How is it you know me, and seem to know Padfoot, but I know neither of you? How is it one moment we were in London, and the next we're here- wherever this is?"

"Remus, what's wrong with her?"

"I told you," Remus whispered, but not quietly enough she didn't hear. "She doesn't remember anything. She's starting to, but she needs more time. I couldn't leave her there. You should have seen her. They'd have been coming for her soon enough."

"Don't talk about me like I'm not here!" A corner of Remus' sleeve caught flame suddenly, and without cause, and Hermione gave a frightened scream.

But Remus merely patted the flame out and looked back at her with his smile. "Please, I promise I will explain everything, and even show you proof, if you come inside. Padfoot can come too, and no harm will come to either of you."

Padfoot, at his name, caught the hem of Hermione's dress and pulled her towards the unstable looking foundation. Hermione shook, feeling her heart pound. "Okay," she whispered. "Just, don't leave me, okay?"

He barked at her in response and she followed the two men towards where she heard there would be a woman. That made her slightly more comfortable, but not really. But when they entered the house- and she both hesitated and used the term lightly- the smell in the air provoked feelings of home that she'd never felt anywhere else.

"Oh," Hermione leaned lightly against the door frame. "I don't feel good."

"What's wrong?" Arthur asked her, sounding slightly frantic at how pale she'd got so fast. "Remus?"

Remus put an arm around her, which she felt too fragile to reject, and began to lead her through the house and towards that smell. "She's being bombarded with feelings and memories she doesn't understand. The band on her memory is starting to fail, fast. Soon, she'll either remember everything, or only enough to land her in St. Mungo's."

They got to the kitchen, where a plump redheaded woman had her back turned at the sink. "Is that Remus I heard? How is-"

She turned around with a bowl in her hands to see Hermione nearly being carried by Remus and helped into a chair, the bowl slipping and crashing to the floor. Hermione winced, sitting down in the chair and petting Padfoot absently.

"Oh, what about these? They're lovely, and the color is just right for you."

"Oh, Mrs. Weasley, it's perfect!"

The woman sniffled, and sobbed, covering her mouth with her shaking hands. "Oh, my girl. My girl's home. Oh!"

Remus stopped her from hugging Hermione, and she was grateful. "Maybe some water, Molly. She's still not back."

Arthur whispered something to her and she gasped, her hands flying to her mouth again. But she went to immediately pour Hermione a glass of cold water. Arthur pulled something out of his sleeve and pointed it to the mess on the floor before catching Hermione's eye and seemingly thinking better of it. He disappeared for a moment, coming back with a broom to sweep it up awkwardly- as though he didn't know how.

"Reparo!"

"Here you are, my girl. If you need anything, you let me know."

"How do you know me?"

Remus suddenly looked uncomfortable. "Hermione, this is Molly and Arthur Weasley. You went to school with their children. Where you met me."

Hermione looked at the couple, both looking at her expectantly. "I'm sorry, I don't know anyone named 'Weasley'."

There was another sob from Molly, but Arthur only looked particularly shiny in the eyes. Remus looked a bit unnerved as well. "Yes, well, you see. Molly, if you would, pictures?"

"Oh, yes, of course. I've kept them all." She went off through a door and Remus sat down next to Hermione with an air of seriousness.

"Hermione, you and I met when you were fourteen on the Hogwarts Express, to go to Hogwarts. Hogwarts," here he paused, "is a school of magic."

"Are you a witch or aren't you?"

Hermione shook her head, though something about what he was saying sounded right. "That's ridiculous. M-magic doesn't exist."

He smiled knowingly. "You don't sound terribly sure about that, Hermione. Knowing you, you've researched everything about why you're having memories you don't recognize, and likely having headaches that feel like your head is imploding."

She felt her stomach turn, and for a moment, she thought she was going to throw up again. "I don't understand. No. That's insane. So I'm not sure what's going on, but thank you, I now know what isn't. Now take me home. Padfoot, let's go."

"Sirius, it's time."

A voice came that she hadn't heard before. "Sirius Black, in Hogsmeade. What would he be doing here?"

"Sirius," she said almost to herself. "H-how did you know that-"

Padfoot moved on her right and she turned to him, where he was slowly rising and forming into a man. The same man in her dream, cleaner than a few of her dreams and not as clean as others. Her eyes widened and she did the only thing anyone else in her position would... she screamed and slapped him as hard as she could.

His head snapped to the side and he stretched his jaw, moving his hand to help his cheek. "I suppose I deserved that," he said in a coarse voice.

Hermione stood up suddenly, ignoring the dizziness from doing so, and stepped away fast. She almost tripped over the chair, that had fallen with how fast she stood, and pressed her back to the wall. "What's going on?! You-you're a person! My dreams- they're real? Cor Blimey, I'm going mad. This is another dream. That's it. Just a dream."

"Oi, what the bloody hell is going on down here?" A new/old voice demanded, another redhead coming through the door right next to Hermione. He did a double take, looking back at her with confusion and relief. "Hermione!"

Suddenly he was kissing her, his tongue in her mouth and his hands cradling her face. Hermione screamed against his mouth and tried to push him away before he disappeared, torn away from her and shoved a few feet. Between them stood Padfoot/Sirius, glaring with his nostrils flared.

"Sirius? What's gotten into you?" The man demanded. Boy, she supposed. While tall, he seemed her age.

"Ronald Weasley," Molly's voice came in a scolding tone. "You mind your manners and keep your hands to yourself while you still have them."

"I'm Hermione Granger, and, you are?"

"Ron Weasley," the voice said, muffled as if through a mouth of food.

"Pleasure," she heard herself say, in a tone that indicated the opposite.

Hermione swayed, half leaning and half being caught by the man/dog. He looked at her worried, and for a moment she saw her best friend in his face, so she let him guide her back to a chair.

"What's going on," Ron demanded again. "Hermione?"

"She doesn't remember you," Remus said for the umpteenth time.

Hermione vaguely heard someone explaining it, with more people entering the room. Each person, a remarkable amount of them with red hair, whispered or shouted her name as Arthur explained her lack of memory. That was ridiculous. Her memory was perfectly fine. So what if there were contradicting things warring in her mind.

"Are you alright," Padfoot asked her earnestly. "Hey, could you guys back up? She hasn't been feeling right."

"I-I'm okay, Padfoot."

"Padfoot? Sirius!" A blur of black passed her and collided with the man in a tight, familial embrace. He pulled away and turned to Hermione with startling green eyes and an angry scar on his forehead.

"Harry Potter, it's Harry Potter."

"Holy cricket! You're Harry Potter."

"Mr. Potter, our new celebrity."

"Harry Potter's caught the Snitch."

Find Harry.

"Harry," she whispered, then louder. "Harry Potter."

There was an angry sound from Ron, who swiftly left the room. Harry, or so she assumed, was looking at her anxiously but with obvious recognition. "Hermione. We've missed you."

He hugged her, which she allowed if only because she vaguely knew this person. Or, she felt like she should, but Padfoot gave her a calculating look. "Harry, she still doesn't remember you."

"But," he let her go and turned around, "she said my name."

"I know, but she's having glimpses of her memory. She only knows you from dreams and the odd voice in her head." It was strange, to hear this man say this, when she'd only ever told her dog. "Molly, the pictures."

Molly stepped through the sea of people and placed a box on the table in front of Hermione. Then she pulled out a photograph, that moved. It was undoubtedly Hermione, with Harry and the one called Ron by her side- though they were younger then.

"Th-that's impossible. It's moving. Why is the picture moving?"

"Pictures do that in the Wizarding World, Hermione," Padfoot said, not leaving her side. It both, unnerved her and comforted her. "This was taken in your... second? year I believe. And this one, well, I think you'll know some of these strangers."

It was a picture of a group of people, and she was one of them. Everyone she'd met so far was as well; Remus, Arthur, Molly, and Padfoot. But right up front, with their heads held up high and their arms around each other, were she, Ron, and Harry.

"Everybody get in here," a gruff voice said in her mind. It was like she could hear the scene, but see nothing. "It's time for the lineup. Usual suspects, in the corner."

"Oh come on, Mad Eye. Nobody wants their picture taken."

"Speak for yourself, Moony," the voice she recognized as Padfoot said.

"Shut up. You're drinking my Firewhiskey. Going to need something to remember everyone by when you all blow yourselves up tomorrow."

"Always the optimist, Mad Eye," she heard her own voice say. Then a click of a camera.

"Hermione?" It was someone she didn't know, or someone she did, also with red hair.

"She's fine," Padfoot told them. "She's remembering something. What was it, Hermione?"

She frowned. "I-I'm not sure. I think it was when the picture was taken. There was someone named... Mad Eye?"

To her relief, no one looked at her as though she were mad when she said the name. Instead, ways parted and a tall, burly looking man stepped forward with indeed- a mad eye. "Granger," he greeted brusquely. "Maybe now we can win this war."

"War? What war?"

Padfoot cursed, glaring at the man. "She's not ready, Moody."

The man didn't react. "Make her ready, Sirius. We're all lucky to be alive. She obliviated herself for a reason, and we need to find out what reason that is."

"I'm right here!" She almost shouted, watching the two of them. "Don't talk about me like I'm not. I don't understand any of this. Why do I know you? Why is there a voice in my head telling me to find Harry? Why did my dog, suddenly become a man?!"

Padfoot/Sirius looked sheepish. "Hermione, you are a witch. You have magic. I know you believe me, and I know you don't know why."

"So tell me," she pleaded, feeling like she might cry. "Padfoot, tell me what's going on. Who are you?"

"My name is Sirius Black," he told her. "I'm a wizard, as is everyone here- or witch, respectfully. And we're in a war that you were trying to help us win. About six months ago, almost seven now, you were captured by Snatchers and they took you to Voldemort. No one knows what happened while you were there, except that you wiped your own memories- likely to save something or someone."

"That's when my headaches started," she said.

"I know. Because your magic backfired to save you from yourself. The headaches and the dreams are your memories trying to get back out."

"But, no, I remember my life and none of you were in it. That doesn't make sense."

"False memories," Remus told her. "When we realized your memories were gone, there was nothing any of us could do for them. It was likely you would never remember anything at all. So we relocated you and your family and modified memories to make up for the ones you lost. Sirius went with you to keep you safe."

Hermione glanced back to 'Sirius'. "The first time I met you," he said, "you were saving my life. And you've done so countless times since. I thought it only right I help you in your new one."

"Yes, that's very touching," Mad Eye said. "Now what made her obliviate herself?"

Sirius stood up to face him. "Back off, Mad Eye. She's been through enough today. The only reason she's not collapsed is the dreams telling her we're telling her the truth. Too much too fast will overwhelm her."

"Then overwhelm her! The brightest witch of the age can handle it. Fix her, or I will."

"If you touch her," Sirius said darkly, "I won't hesitate to kill you. She's not broken, she just needs time."

"I hate to agree with him," someone said, stepping forward and smiling understandably at Hermione. "Hello, Hermione. I know you don't remember me, but I'm Neville. You were my first friend at Hogwarts."

"Have you seen a toad? Trevor's gone and I can't find him. I've looked everywhere."

"I haven't seen him, but I'll help you look for him. I'm Hermione Granger."

"Neville Longbottom."

He turned to Sirius. "We're running out of time, and running out of safe places- waiting for something to happen that isn't. Most of the Order is gone, others in hiding with no way of communicating. All of us have been on the run."

Sirius looked back at Hermione, and then to everyone else. "She'll remember. This is Hermione we're talking about. You've never lost trust in her, don't now. She wouldn't have done something so extreme without a back up plan."

Hermione felt her stomach turn at his saying that. Magic, dogs turning into people, strangers who she knew she should recognize, and a war that seemed to be depending on her. What if she didn't remember. What if this was a coma and she was going mad? What if it wasn't?

A/N: Here is the next chapter. I am loving this so much. I am currently writing chapter four. I hope you guys enjoy it. Let me know in the towel section down below. I am also looking forward to hearing any theories anyone might have as to what Hermione found out that she obliviated herself to keep from Voldemort. Cheers!

Mia.