Review offering insight to the story:
"Okay, I have to say that you are by far my favourite story starter! That chapter made me so excited! I can't wait to see what happens. It was also a fair assessment of how badly the war could go, though from a thinking stand point it seems odd that Hermione would be forced into such a high position of power... but, you can sort of feel that that's exactly what would happen with the passing of all of those people: who but Hermione would lead? Could lead? Anyway, as per usual I am loving your writing, and I'm excited by all your up and coming stories! Go team!" - emtylil'firefly of FanFiction net.
Thank you to the following reviewers: RosieLady, Phoenix flame01, Hotkat144, Black-Rose23, x-Lazart-x, hawkeyehellsing, MoonNightLover, Nynaeve80, Whispers, Viktor Krum's lazyllama101, chelseathomson123, Dizi85, PiperPaigePhoebe01, bethygirl94, Suzy87 and especially emptylil'firefly,and galloping-goose (Zeus).
The Werewolf Trainer
One
A familiar sight took place as Hermione slept late into the night, her body wriggled and fought the ghosts of her mind while her throat strained against the agonized screams of terror and sadness that begged to be free. The sheets tangled in her limbs, while she kicked and rolled, as though trying to get away from what her mind replayed for her, time and again. The same scene tore her open, leaving her shaking in pain each time she awoke. She had been plagued with nightmares for three years, though they changed from person to person. After Harry's death, it repeated in her mind for three years of sleep, plaguing her and tearing her soul apart. After Ron's death, she was instead left with what her mind perceived to be the death of him and his family, always so cruel and painful to see. But it wasn't until Remus' death that she found herself inconsolable. In the past, she had him to soothe away the fear and agony of it all. He would wake her when her cries shook him from his slumber. He would reassure her that it was all a nightmare and not happening right then, and he'd be able to bring her back to the world. With his arms around her, she felt safe and comforted. But she didn't have him now, and she was forced, every night, to see his death play out before her eyes.
Walking down the cobblestone streets of Diagon Alley, Remus and Hermione surveyed every face that passed them by. The rise in Death Eater attacks had them on edge and most of the Order was against their going out at all any more. They needed supplies though, if they planned on keeping the training of werewolves going for the next month. A full moon was approaching soon and Hermione didn't allow any of the clans to leave the area when she was training them. While she had faith in most of them, she was taking no chances. There was a deserted area planned out for their next meeting, deep in a forest where Hermione and Remus would surely be safe from the cruelty of Voldemort and his followers for at least a few days. It was a welcomed break, even if their actions still had something to do with the War.
Their work was making a difference, Remus was sure of it. He told her constantly that she was making a breakthrough. The other werewolves were beginning to understand her just as well as he was, aside from the few quirks that Remus and Hermione had that couldn't be learned. Certain words or actions were akin to only him and Hermione was the only one who understood them. A language of sorts was made though, and she could speak to them, often times with her hands in a warped version of sign language. Many were worried about her being hidden away with seventy or so werewolves, with only her husband to keep her safe, but Hermione knew that none of the werewolves would ever attack her. There was something about the way they looked at her now, akin to awe perhaps. They looked up to her, treated her as though she was their creator and master. It was an odd sense of devotion they had, but they would put their very lives on the line for her, she knew. They looked at Remus with the same pride and Hermione sometimes joked that they were King and Queen of the werewolf clans. While Remus laughed, she sometimes noticed he looked as though he was actually agreeing with her, honestly.
It was the devotion they possessed for the Lupin couple that had caught the attention of Fenrir Greyback. While the Lupin Werewolf Project had been kept under wraps as much as possible, word had been leaking out to Voldemort's followers. It was well known amongst certain supporters of the cause against Voldemort that Hermione and Remus were gathering help from the werewolves, but they had done all they could to keep Voldemort from turning the werewolf influence back to him. After Fenrir found out about it however, he was enraged by the idea and had been quite adamant on telling Remus and Hermione so. Various threats had been handed out and even a few botched attacks on the Lupin's, but the project prevailed thus far. Voldemort was gaining more interest in them however, and Hermione's new image as the Witch-of-Hope had chafed the dark wizard enough to make him attempt her destruction nearly daily. So far, the Lupin's had managed to stave off death and they weren't planning on giving in any time soon.
"We need more meat, Remus," Hermione reminded, glancing up at him. "Our last batch didn't hold them over. Nearly half went hunting part way through the night. It's dangerous. I don't want them out of my sight for long periods."
He nodded, lifting his hands and running them up through the back of his hair. "How many do we have now?" he wondered, lifting his eyes up. "A new clan joined shortly after the last full moon, didn't they?" he asked, his brow cocking and his mouth turning in a thoughtful frown.
"Seventy or so. And we did get a new clan recently, but they won't be coming with us on this retreat," she reminded, shaking her head. "It's too soon for them. We have to wean them off the Wolfsbane potion a few months before we bring them up. They've been on it a whole lot longer than most of the clans," she reminded, looking rather happy about it. "You know what that means," she said, grinning.
"That we're stuck with annoyed werewolves in our basement pen for the next three or four months," he replied, sardonically.
"No," she drew out, still looking quite happy. "It means that we're even getting through to some of the older werewolves. It's easier to get through to those who've been changed for less years, if only because they want to be considered normal. But the older are more set in their ways, they've gained a way of life and they don't want the unattainable dangled in front of them." She nodded, stopping to step in front of him and look up into his eyes. "We're really doing it, Remus. We're getting through," she told him, her voice nearly as surprised as her eyes were while they sparkled up at her grinning husband.
He laughed lightly, wrapping his arms around her waist and leaning down toward her, his mouth slanting over hers in a short but adoring kiss. "Like there were any doubts," he replied, shaking his head. "I must say, Mrs. Lupin, this is certainly one of your more brilliant ideas," he teased.
She rolled her eyes, pursing her lips at him to stop the smile that tugged at her mouth. Dramatically sighing, she replied, "I thought the plan to have numerous werewolf babies and create our own army to take over the entire world was quite cunning, actually." She winked at him, "And it would be fun."
"Fun indeed," he replied, chuckling lightly as he leaned in and pressed his lips to the side of her mouth, rubbing his cheek over hers as he pulled her closer for a warm hug. "We're gaining ground and trust. Before long, we'll have all the clans on our sides. Imagine the odds then. Now... if only we knew somebody who could speak Troll and Giant, we'd be well on our way to taking most of Voldemort's army," he said, amusement in his voice.
Hermione laughed, making a noise from the back of her throat that in the odd werewolf language meant she was playfully warning him. It was usually followed by pawing at the ground, but seeing as her arms were around him, she really couldn't manage that. After embracing for a short while, they broke apart and Hermione moved to stand by his side, her arm around his back. "You know what else we need?" she asked, turning her head up as it rested against his bicep.
"What?" he wondered, looking down at her, amber eyes flashing as they walked into a store and his vision adjusted to the lighting.
"Lacewing flies, I need to begin brewing the Wolfsbane potion for the new clan. I haven't had to make it in awhile and the my last batch would have spoiled by now. They have some for this transformation, but I'll need some for next month." Given that the potion took weeks to prepare, Hermione would have to set out making it before they left for the forest retreat.
"Who'll be staying with them at our house?" he wondered, his hand reaching out to a jar on a shelf, checking what was contained inside.
"Tonks offered," she said, a frown present on her face. The former Auror wasn't one of Hermione's biggest fans and her clumsy habit always seemed to break something Hermione liked whenever she was at their home.
Remus laughed lightly, replacing the jar and looking for another. "You two really need to talk about this silly feud."
"She started it," Hermione mumbled childishly. Examining the various ingredients hanging on a wall, Hermione pursed her lips in concentration as she studied a long vine. If she was correct, then she was looking at a very exotic plant, ones which thorns were sought for some of the most dark potions. Sighing, she turned back to her husband who was knelt low by a dusty cannister, checking the price of a jar of lacewing flies.
"Not to her understanding," Remus replied, nodding at the cannister and rising from the floor.
"Marrying you was not my way of starting a feud with her," Hermione told him, rolling her eyes. "I realize she really liked you, and I knew that when I started dating you. She didn't have much of a problem with it until we announced our marriage, and I believe you remember her reaction to that!" she reminded, nodding shortly as they walked up to the counter to pay for a few of the ingredients they had picked out. Hermione grabbed another up from a table as she passed, remembering that Kingsley was in need of a salve for a burn on his forearm.
"She was surprised," Remus told her, though he wrinkled his nose as he too remembered what she had shouted at Hermione over the fact that Remus was marrying her. He sighed, shrugging, "Despite the fact that she was quite rude that day, I think she was only upset because it became more real that what she thought was going to happen between me and her was, in fact, not," he said, ever the mediator.
"Obviously," she responded, placing the jars on the counter and shaking her head. "But you have to admit that even after she got over her immediate reaction, what she's done since then has only been worthy of my retribution."
Remus' mouth twitched on one side with amusement. "Hermione, I realize you loved that quilt that she accidentally dropped in the fire, but I don't believe hexing her face upside down and turning her skin purple for a month was apt retribution."
"Accidentally," she scoffed, ignoring the rest of what he said. "That quilt was a Lupin family heirloom."
He sighed, pulling his wallet out to pay for their items. "She is quite clumsy, it's possible that she didn't mean to do what she did."
"Remus, she does it every time she steps in our house," Hermione replied, shaking her head. "I know you want to believe that she's still sweet, quirky Tonks, but the War changed her too. Her bitterness just happens to be taken out on me," she said, frowning, "and my favorite things."
"Well, you never really liked that tea set we had any way," he reminded, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer so he could kiss the top of her head. They left the shop, making their way across the cobblestone path, their eyes set on another shopping area. Her hand was resting on his far side, slipped beneath his jacket, he could feel the heat of her palm through his shirt.
She chuckled, rolling her eyes. "Yes, but that's not the point. If you remember, I mentioned that it was my favorite tea set-"
"So you lied," he interrupted, lifting his brow amusedly.
"Yes, but she didn't know that," Hermione reminded, shaking her head for emphasis, "And you'll notice that she broke it not long after. So, you see, she goes after things I like."
Remus sighed with defeat, "Fine. She's out to get you. I can't blame her, really, I'm quite the catch," he said, grinning.
Hermione shook her head, looking up at him. "On occasion, I guess," she replied cheekily.
Chortling goodnaturedly, he turned down to reply, but then stopped. The expression on his face slipped away to be replaced with alert concern. He turned quickly, his eyes thinning and his head tipped. "Death Eaters," he told her, grimacing. "Coming this way."
Hermione sighed, shaking her head and pulling her wand from the belt of jeans. "Hide the potion ingredients somewhere, we'll grab them before we leave or come back for them," Hermione told him, her back stiffening with resolve.
Remus hurried over to a table near a shop and stuck the bag underneath before pulling out his own wand and coming back to her. The sounds of mayhem soon reached their ears and smoke could be seen in the distance. The screams of innocent bystanders reached their ears and they began running towards the source to help. Tipping her wand up, Hermione pressed it against the colourful phoenix necklace around her throat, chanting the world, "help." Immediately she noticed the flash of light on Remus' necklace, which meant that her message went through to all Order members that they were in need of back up and in distress. Because they knew where Remus and Hermione had gone, she didn't expect them to take long and dearly hoped they wouldn't.
They ran into the thick of things after rounding a corner. People were running around in mass hysteria, screaming and trying to defend themselves by shooting everything in sight. The bodies that lined the ground, having already been cursed by the Death Eaters making their way toward Remus and Hermione, were being trampled and tripped over. Hermione shook her head at the scene, the way they were acting made them susceptible to attack. They weren't covering each other or their own backs, they were just fleeing, aiming at anything, taking out innocents as they went. Hermione reminded herself that they weren't Auror's, but simple civilians. They were trying to get away alive, they had no grasp of attaining safety or how to save others. It was kill or be killed, really.
Hermione and Remus were pushing people out of the way, trying to get close enough to the Death Eaters to stun them or kill them, whichever was needed. There were far too many people in the way however, and unlike Voldemort's followers Hermione and Remus didn't want to hurt anybody innocent in the crossfire. Finally, they came upon a cloaked and masked duo, cruelly cursing a woman a man with Crucio over and over again. The poor wizard and witch writhed on the ground in unimaginable pain. Remus stunned one of them, immediately calling upon magical ropes to bind him. Azkaban was out of the question, but the Order had established their own prison, magically enhanced and unplottable. Hermione used a hurling hex on the other and was pleased to see the Death Eater knocked out as they collided with the front window of a shop, shattering it and falling unconscious on the floor.
Turning their attention to the other three Death Eaters advancing on them, Remus and Hermione avoided using the Avada curse until it was absolutely necessary. They'd rather see them rotting away in prison than dying in what would be considered a 'blaze of glory' for their "Dark Lord". They would consider it honorable, and besides that, most of the Order didn't like resorting to darker spells to end destruction. Death only begets more death, as Hermione had once told them. Sometimes though, it was necessary, and there were some Death Eaters that were sentenced to death on sight. Draco Malfoy was currently being sought by the shifty and not entirely powerful Ministry, but most importantly by the Order. Along with Bellatrix Lestrange, Lucius Malfoy, and Fenrir Greyback. All those that were considered to be Voldemort's bigger allies and more known murderers, were being hunted by the Order. Unfortunately, all had been able to allude them thus far.
It was while Remus was battling a Death Eater away from torturing a small child that the red curse connected with him. Hermione had just finished binding a man after easily dueling him and winning when she turned to see it hurling towards him. She had run to push him out of the way, shouting for him to move, but it was far too quick and her feet didn't measure up. There was only one Death Eater still there, and she was the one who had hit Remus and caused so much damage in the past. People were still running past, trying to flee for freedom and getting nowhere. Hermione thought nothing of the woman yards away from her, maskless and simply watching the scene with cruel amusement, but instead hurried to kneel beside her husband.
Remus stared up at her, his teeth stained with the watery red blood exiting his mouth. The Reducto curse had hit him hard in the stomach and he wasn't going to be breathing much longer. Bellatrix's cackle could be heard in the distance, gleefully mocking him. There were too many people around for Hermione to be an open target now, though she didn't think of that at all as she bent closer to her husband, her hand reaching out to somehow stop the gushing blood from his stomach. He was twitching and trying to curl his legs up against his chest, but his body wasn't listening. Her hand was swamped in blood before she could blink and she stared down at Remus with watery eyes and a sob ripping its way out of her throat. "You'll be fine, you're going to be okay," she promised, her words wobbly and croaky.
"No, love, I'm afraid... this..." He cut himself off, his eyes tightening as a wave of pain tore at his limbs, "this is... the end of my journey," he told her, shaking his head and opening his eyes to look up at her beautiful face, tears streaming down from her eyes. He sounded so sure, so accepting, that it just hurt more. People shouldn't be ready for this, they shouldn't expect to be killed as they spent the day with their wife.
"Don't leave me, Remus, I... I can't do it without you. Oh Merlin, I can't make it without you, please," she whimpered, shaking her head and leaning closer to him, her free hand running through his hair, trying to soothe him as best she could. Her eyes stared at him searchingly and her hands shook with the need to do something, anything, that would ensure he would live. He was everything to her, her whole life was wrapped around him. They were supposed to have a future. One where the world was safe, where their children could grow up happy. They were supposed to save the world together.
The crowd thinned around them and Hermione looked around for anyone resembling that of an Order member. She noticed that Bellatrix was no longer there and she felt an agonized rage pull at her. She would pay, she thought, with her life! Where were the Order? Why weren't they there yet? Remus was dying and nobody was there to save him? They were abandoned and left to fight it all for themselves. Useless, she deduced, useless Order!
"You can do it, H-Hermione," he told her, staring up into her shimmering brown eyes. "You have to believe in yourself. Don't... Don't let him s-scare you into d-d-doubting your abilities," he said, trying to keep his wavering voice firm. "You..." His breathing became too labored to speak for a moment, "You're the brightest witch, love. The brightest witch to ever come out of H-Hogwarts. You can do it, I know you can. Just..." He shook his head, swallowing painfully. His eyes filled, tears swallowing him whole and choking off his words. His chin shook violently and his throat burned incessantly, the need to say so much, and finding all words lacking. "I love you, you know that, right? You know I love you?" he asked, becoming slightly hysterical and worried.
"I know, I know," she reassured, crying and coming closer. "I love you too, Remus. Please, darling, just hold on. Help is coming, any minute now," she told him, nodding quickly and moving closer to his face, pressing her cheek against his, her tears warm against his cold skin. She kissed his skin, needing to be as close to him as possible. His own tears slipped down the side of his face and Hermione wiped them away, though hers were drenching the cheeks, she kissed them away, too.
"I-I don't want to die," he told her, sounding rather astonished by the revelation. She sobbed, heartbroken, and shook her head, murmuring that he wasn't going to. "I... I've wanted to for so long, love. For so many years, I welcomed the... the idea of death," he admitted, his voice choked up. "But I don't want to go now," he told her, inhaling sharply, "I don't want to leave you."
"Then don't, Remus, please don't," she told him, her hands curling tightly in his hair as she brought herself closer, kissing over his face and crying against him. There was so much blood, it was coming out of his mouth, staining his stubbly jaw. She remembered telling him that morning that he should shave, but he just rubbed it against her cheek, tickling her skin, and told her he'd do it later. There would be no later, not for anything. "I love you, I love you so much, don't leave me. Please..." she whimpered, her body feeling as though it were collapsing in on itself. She couldn't breathe, it hurt to. All of it hurt so much.
"I... I don't think I h-have a choice," he told her, honestly, his voice cutting out in spasms of trying to inhale air, but only getting a little each time. "I-I want y-you to remember, love," he told her, his mouth shaking. "I b-believe in y-you, always," he promised, his hand shaking as it lifted to slip into her hair, his palm caressing her cheek, smearing it with his blood. "And I l-love you. I l-loved you ev-every day w-we were t-togeth-ther." He gasped, his breathing hitching and his eyes widening. "Hermione," he breathed, before his eyes lost their amber shine and his hand fell limp in her hair.
"Remus," she called out quietly, staring down at his unmoving face. "Remus," she said a little louder, shaking him slightly. "Remus, no, no, don't you... Remus!" she screamed, her eyes becoming so filled she could hardly see his face. "REMUS! DAMN YOU, DON'T YOU LEAVE ME! Oh God, no... No, please..." she cried, her body wracked with sobs as she wept against him. Her breathing picked up until she suddenly let out a bloody curdling scream, clutching the lapels of his coat, her eyes staring up at the heavens, cursing them for taking everything from her.
Time passed, she didn't know how long until she felt people dragging her away from her husband. It could have been minutes, seconds, or even hours, she was lost in her desperation. His blood had dried against her skin, hair, and clothes, and she was left in a mess of somber depression. She could hear voices, all hollow in her ears. She wasn't sure how long it had been since she blinked, but as Remus began to get smaller and smaller in her vision as she was taken away, she began to struggle. "No! Take me back! Take me back to him!" she exclaimed, pushing against the people trying to pull her away.
"It's a lost cause," Moody's gruff voice told her. "He's gone. There's nothing you can do. I'm sorry," he said, trying not to sound calloused but unable to sound comforting.
"LET ME GO!" she screamed, pushing against Kingsley Shacklebolt and Moody as they continued to try and get her further away from her husband's limp body. "He's all alone. He can't be alone! Let me go! I need to be with him! I have to be with him!" she told them, tears bursting from her dry and burning eyes. "Remus, wake up, please, you have to wake up," she cried, shaking her head.
MacGonagall was coming at her, but Hermione didn't want the grandmotherly force around her. The Headmistress was trying to calm Hermione down, but she wasn't having any of it. She wasn't aware how hysterical and possibly insane she was sounding, she was ripe with sorrow and unable to accept that the last person who truly mattered was gone. She was all alone. Her friends were dead, her mentor was gone, the Weasley family was all but demolished, and now... now her beloved Remus was taken from her too. It was too much, she couldn't handle it.
"Hermione, please, we're only trying to do what's best," Minerva's voice told her.
"Best?" she spat, her eyes red and teary. "What could any of you possibly do to make any of this better? I've lost all of them! ALL OF THEM! I have no one!" she screamed, shaking her head and letting her body go limp in the arms of the Auror's holding her back. "He was all I had left! He was the only one who mattered any more!" she exclaimed, her voice shattering. "Don't you understand? It's over," she told the older woman, who stared at her stricken, as though the world had finally ended. "What do I have to fight for?" she asked her, her voice final and empty.
"They..." The woman swallowed, trying to look stern or reassuring, Hermione couldn't tell. "They wouldn't want you to give up," she told her, though her words were quite lacking.
Hermione laughed callously, her hysteria getting the better of her. "Give up? You think after all of this, I've given up?" she asked, leaping to her feet and ripping her arms from the hands of Kingsley and Moody so quickly they were unable to detain her. "Giving up implies that there is something left to fight for. Look around you," she told her, her face curled in vicious anger. "Where is Harry and Susan? Or Ginny and Blaise? Dumbledore or Sirius? Where is Ron and Luna? Fred and George? Molly, Charlie, and Percy? Huh?" she asked, her voice raising as her breathing increased. "WHERE IS REMUS, MINERVA? WHERE IS MY HUSBAND?" she screamed, wanting nothing more than to reach out and strike everything near her.
Her knees buckled and she fell in a heap on the ground. "He believed in me. He thought I... I could save the world," she told her, her voice soft now, and croaky with emotion. She laughed self deprecatingly. "As if I'd want to if I don't have him by my side," she said, shaking her head and letting her defenses drop entirely, too tired to care any longer. She sniffled, a dark expression coming over her face. "I'm going to kill Bellatrix and then I'm done with this. All of it!" she exclaimed.
"B-But Hermione, please, think about what you're saying," Minerva said, her face horrified and her hands holding tightly to one another. "You're our strongest link in the Order, dear. You're... Without you it will all fall apart," she admitted, shaking her head. "And your research, your and Remus' work with werewolves, it's essential to--"
"I'M DONE!" Hermione shouted, cutting her off. "I don't care about any of it anymore. I want Remus brought to justice and then I'm gone," she told her, her voice wavering with anger.
"Be rational," Moody interrupted, sounding only mildly concerned. "Where will you go when this is all done? You can't just walk away! You have connections here, responsibilities."
"My responsibility was just killed in the street in broad daylight, with not an Auror or Order member in sight to help him," Hermione snarled, whipping her head back. "Where the hell were the rest of you while he laid bleeding on the ground?" she barked, her voice vicious and cutting. "Nowhere!"
"We were on our way, there wasn't much time, Hermione," Kingsley replied, looking rather angered by her insinuation that they hadn't tried to get there in time. "We got here as fast as we could."
"Well it wasn't fast enough," she yelled, her face flushing from her rage.
"Hermione," MacGonagall said, her voice trying to soothe the woman's anger. "R-Remus, he was hurt badly, dear, he wouldn't have... He wouldn't have made it even if we had gotten him to St. Mungo's or Madame Pomfrey. I'm afraid he couldn't be saved," she told her, gently.
"Yes, it appears most aren't saveable these days," she replied scornfully. Her head was becoming hazy and she felt as though she were swaying. It was quite possible that she was about to pass out and the idea didn't seem wrong to her. If she closed her eyes, would she see Remus' face? Maybe she'd hit her head hard enough to join him where he was going... What a cowardly thought, she decided. She felt weary and tired, too much so to think on it. She wanted to go to sleep. Back at home, in her warm bedroom, under the heavy beige and white duvet, with Remus' arms around her, his face pressed against her neck. Tears swam in her eyes, she would never have that again. He was gone. "Gone," she whispered, before the inky darkness took her away.
Startled awake, Hermione sat panting in her bed, upright and pressing her hand against her rapidly beating heart. She could feel sweat making its way down her back and shook her head, trying to rid it of the images. Her heart ached, not only because she was breathing so quickly she was barely getting any oxygen at all, but because it wasn't a simply nightmare, but reality. Her eyes were drawn to the empty half of the large bed and tears pricked at her eyes. A sob rose up in her throat and she tore out of bed, her body shaking and a headache creating havoc on her temples. By the darkness coming through the window, she knew that it was still late at night. Picking up Remus' flannel robe from off the chair in the dark corner, Hermione wrapped herself in it, inhaling the warm scent of her husband, her breath hitching in pain. Blinking back the blinding tears, she left the bedroom and made her way down the stairs, candles lighting themselves from the charm placed on them as she passed.
Her eyes glanced at the photos to her right, each of them had been turned around, so the moving pictures were facing the wall. She couldn't look at them. Couldn't bear to see his smiling face, or her friends happy expressions. That was the past and she had none of it to look forward to in the future. The house was lit eerily, shadows playing over everything. She could hear scurrying outside, but knew what it was. Her house had become more protected than any other in the Wizarding world. Her werewolf clans had claimed the right to keep her safe now that Remus was gone. Since she wasn't speaking with any of the Order, the clans weren't even letting them by. Her house was surrounded non-stop, and she had some of her more trustworthy werewolves actually living inside the house.
Brighton Louis, one of Remus' favorites, he and her husband had gotten along quite well and he'd been one of the first to join the project, was currently staying in the first floor bedroom, just down the hall from the study. Darnell Lazarovici, an older werewolf who reminded her vaguely of Moody, with his gruff appearance and personality, was a bit of a fatherly type and he resided in the room down the hall from Hermione and Remus', though he often stayed downstairs in the den, curled up in front of the fire. Lastly, Jacques Laroche, a younger werewolf who looked at her as though she were his mother even though they were nearly the same age, was camped out in the bedroom separated only by a bathroom near Hermione's. Originally, when the war had ended, Hermione wanted it to be the nursery when her and Remus had children. She sniffed at the thought, and ran her hands over her face, feeling tired and deflated.
Making her way to the stove, she prepared the tea pot and sat down at the kitchen table. The half moon shone up in the sky and she could see it perfectly from her seat. Hearing the soft padding of feet, she knew one of the werewolves had woken up and wasn't surprised when Darnell, an older man with dark skin and curly greying hair sat down across from her. His amber eyes shone in the candle light, and Hermione frowned intensely as they brought up memories of her husband. He stared at her, understanding in his gaze though he never spoke of it. He had stated once that he would show no pity, because she had enough of that for herself. "Awake again, I see," he said, his voice deep and rumbling. It seemed to fill the hollows of the house, making it feel less empty around her.
She simply nodded, rising from her seat as the pot began to whistle for her attention. After pouring them both a cup, she placed his in front of him and then placed two lumps of sugar in hers and a teaspoon of cream, before stirring it. She stared down into the brown liquid, watching it swirl around the spoon. Her stomach felt as though someone had gripped it tight and she sat remembering all the afternoons she spent having tea with Remus and discussing everything from grass to sky. It all felt so lonely now, without his voice around her, his body near her, his comfort or understanding. She missed his laugh and the way he made the darkest of days into something worth getting through. She ached for him to kiss her temple or hug her tight, to tell her that he loved her and he'd always be there. Her body shook and she once against questioned how she was going to go on. It had been almost two months, and still it felt like nothing had gotten better. Would it ever?
Pushing away her pain and sorrow, she replaced it with the simmering anger against Bellatrix and Voldemort. She felt herself close up then, caging up the hurt to feel later, perhaps that's why it wasn't getting any better. Instead of grieving and moving forward, she was holding onto it. Maybe when Bellatrix was finally dead, killed for all her deeds, for what she did to Remus, then Hermione would take the time to truly feel. She wouldn't rest until Lestrange had paid for her sins and Remus' death was avenged. Turning her face up, she looked at Darnell, who was frowning slightly, his face weary. "Any news of Lestrange?" she wondered, lifting her tea and sipping it.
He sighed, crossing his arms and glancing out the window, watching as various men walked the perimeter. "She was seen attacking 'ogsmeade earlier tonight, but she was gone before anybody could alert you," he informed her, shaking his head. "We may 'ave a destination and time on 'er next attack. I'll let you know," he assured.
Hermione nodded slowly, fiddling with her hands on top of the table, feeling frustrated with how long it was taking to find her. She should have known. They'd been trying to find her for years, why would it suddenly become easy? Perhaps she had assumed that her anger and hatred toward the woman would cause her to trip up and open a door that hadn't been there before, one that would lead Hermione right to her. That wasn't the case, and without the Order and its informants, she was relying solely on her werewolf clans and the people she knew. Given that she had all the resources the Order did, it wasn't that hard, but she had to be careful who she spoke to. She didn't want word getting back to the Order, because she didn't want them involved. Bellatrix was hers. It may have been selfish, but she wanted Bellatrix's demise solely to herself.
"MacGonagall was 'ere today," Darnell informed her, interrupting her thoughts.
Hermione scowled, sipping more of her now only warm tea. "Oh?" she said, her voice flat and uninterested.
"She insisted we allow 'er in," he told her, a small smirk finding its way onto his lightly wrinkled face. "She even pulled 'er wand, warning us that if we didn't move, she'd move us."
Hermione chuckled ever so lightly, though the sound rung empty, as usual these days. "And what did you do?"
"I didn't do anything. I knew she wouldn't really attack. She was surrounded by werewolves, she's not inept. Jacques, on the other 'and..." he said, shaking his head with mild amusement. "'E came forward and told 'er that, 'Mère Loup wishes to be alone. She wants nussing to do wis you. Ze Order is not appreciated 'ere any longer. Leave before I do somezing she would not wish me to,' in that infernal French accent of 'is," Darnell told her, mocking his accent with his deep, growly voice.
Hermione sighed, her hands wrapped around the cooled teacup as she stared exasperated at the tabletop. "Mother wolf," she said, translating the French title Jacques had labeled her with. Downing the last of her tea, the taste quite lacking now, she wrinkled her nose and shook her head. "They'll give up eventually," she said, more to herself than him.
"You shouldn't push them away, copil, you're already lacking in allies," he reminded, frowning darkly. "Remus was a good man, and an 'onorable wolf, but you need to remember that 'e fought for the cause. You and 'e were working against Voldemort, 'ermione, not for vengeance but for freedom. You--"
Hermione cut him off with a sharp glare, her face turning in a scowl. "I know what Remus and I were doing," she told him, her tone razor sharp. "And I know that it involves sacrifice and hard work. I gave all that I have, Darnell, do not presume to tell me that I don't understand what I was working toward." She heard him sigh with understanding and tried her best to let herself loosen up. Her shoulder were rigid with anger and her back strained against how tall and straight she was sitting. When she felt some of her rage dissipate, she said, "I believe in that cause still, I do. I just can't have anything to do with it, not until I have at least avenged Remus. When Bellatrix is dead, I'll consider rejoining the Order. But Darnell," she said, drawing his attention back to her, "not until then. I can't risk my life outside of dueling Bellatrix, do you understand?" she asked, truly wondering if he could.
He gave her a sharp nod, his amber eyes flashing. "You know that the clans will 'elp you in every way we can." She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off, "We won't fight your fight, 'ermione, but we will do all that is in our power to give you your fight," he told her, staring her straight in the eyes. "Despite what you think, you stand for 'ope for far many than you know. Remus knew that. 'E would not want you to give up all that you 'ave. The clans trust you, believe in you. They will follow no other," he told her, shaking his head. "I realize that Bellatrix is your kill, but it's best that you recognize what you're doing. You kill 'er because she killed Remus. Who then will kill you for killing 'er? And besides that, what makes 'er so much more worthy of your time and energy than all those who killed others? Voldemort who killed 'arry? Dolohov for killing 'arry's wife? Or all those others who killed the Weasley's and the members of your Order?" he asked, pointedly. "You're angry, copil, and you should be, but don't let it take over, 'ermione," he told her, seriously.
She stared at him, not certain what to say. "I won't, Darnell," she told him, her voice soft but promising.
He gave her a nod and then rose from the chair he occupied. "Get some sleep, pui de lup, you're of no 'elp tired," he told her, gruffly, though the fatherly affection was there in his amber eyes. "Off to bed with you," he said, nodding his head up. "I'll make sure Jacques keeps it down. You know how 'e gets in the morning. Damn vocal, that one," he growled, frowning.
"Oh, you like him Darnell," she told him, smiling lightly. "He's energetic and youthful, much like you probably were when you were his age."
"Never," he denied, strongly.
She shook her head, leaving the table and walking to the stairs. "Tell those boys outside they should get some sleep. They don't need to be wearing themselves out patrolling all night. Nobody even knows where this house is," she told him, climbing the stairs.
"I'll do no such thing," he told her, his voice heavy with conviction. "You'll not be left unguarded, not when Voldemort is out for your blood. It's obvious the lack of sleep is getting to you, if you think I would tell any of those lupesc to nap while you're in 'ere, unable to arm yourself, you're more mental than I first thought."
She laughed, the tone light and airy, but still empty of any feeling. "Oh, but Darnell, if you'll remember, you thought I was mental in thinking I would gain the trust of werewolf packs," she reminded, mildly amused. "Look around you, I believe I've proven you wrong."
He made a grumbling noise before walking off to his den. "Sleep well, 'ermione," he commanded.
Sighing, Hermione went back to her bedroom, feeling the familiar ache as she gazed upon the large, empty bed. Instead of taking off Remus' housecoat, she climbed into their bed still swathed in it. His scent filled her senses, though it was nearly all gone from the sheets and blanket. She still had his coat and it was consumed with the scent that was completely and wholly him. Tears came to her eyes and her throat closed up on her. Pressing her face against his pillow, her hand across the space he used to occupy, she cried herself to sleep, knowing that every werewolf ear nearby could hear her clear as day.
It was a week later when Bellatrix struck again, but Hermione was ready and waiting for her this time. With her strongest werewolf pack behind her, she stood in the street of Diagon Alley, waiting for her, scowl in place. They had cleared the area of people, knowing full well that the Death Eaters fed off of causing hysteria and appearing to shock and scare all those around them. Bellatrix arrived with four Death Eater's in tow, she was the only one, however, not wearing a mask. Darnell stood beside her, his arms crossed behind his back, looking tall and proud in his stance, as though nothing could strike him down.
On her other side was Brighton, a man the same age as Remus had been, with sandy blonde hair and the familiar amber eyes that went hand in hand with all werewolves. He was a quiet man, one who only spoke when he had something wise to pass on. He reminded her of someone, which was why she found him so trustworthy she supposed. He had saved her life in the past, when one of the werewolves got out of hand. He was young and confused, new to the program, and he had rowdily come at her, claws out and teeth bared. Brighton had tackled him away from her and kept him pinned until he got across her importance of Hermione and that the wolf cub had to settle down or he would very well be killed. He and Remus had been friends nearly from the start, with the small misunderstanding of Remus first believing that Brighton had an interest in Hermione. As it turned out, he treated the young witch as though she were his younger sister, and protected her at every cost.
Behind her was Jacques, the French boy near her age who had become accustomed to shadowing her every movement. Like the two men on either side of her, he too would give his life. He was treated as the baby of the clans however, and often undervalued by most of the older werewolves. It was his close proximity to Hermione that kept him from being too ostracized and that was like part of the reason for his appreciation. He had treated Remus the same, with a sense of awe and admiration that Hermione had always found endearing. He was good with his wand too, which is why she brought him along for this fight. He was quick and unafraid in duels, so she never hesitated while he was fighting with her. She worried about him in werewolf form however, since he was much smaller than the others and tended to be rather spunky and rowdy. He often got pushed around quite a bit and usually ended up with minor injuries by the end of the full moon.
Bellatrix stood ahead of them, first looking annoyed that there were no innocents for her to play with, then looking amused by the show of Hermione and her werewolf partners. "Come to fight with the big witches, huh mudblood?" she called out, her voice grating and mocking.
Hermione felt a rage tear down her spine, and her body began to shake with it. Her wand was held tight in her hand and she wondered briefly if it was possible for her to accidentally snap it with the way she was holding it. Her expression bore nothing but disdain for the woman before her, and she was fairly sure her eyes were fiery with vicious anger. She noticed from the corner of her eyes, Brighton lean toward her to say something. She turned half her attention to him, in hopes that he would say something, anything that would calm her enough not to run off half-cocked and without her proper wits to destroy Bellatrix once and for all.
"There is nothing more dreadful than the habit of doubt. Doubt separates people. It is a poison that disintegrates friendships and breaks up pleasant relations. It is a thorn that irritates and hurts; it is a sword that kills," Brighton told her, his tone even and wise.
Hermione nodded, "Buddha," she mumbled.
He half smiled, returning to standing straight again. "We have faith in you, just as you have had in us."
Hermione nodded, feeling a little less tense. She was glad for that moment, because Bellatrix sent out her Death Eater's then, expecting to rid the competition, at least to just Hermione. She underestimated Hermione's allies however, because Brighton and Darnell left her sides, wands at the ready, and destroyed the two dark wizards before them as if they were nothing. When two more Death Eater's came from behind her, looking to take the two werewolves off guard, Jacques hurled them from the ground with a quick hex each, and bound them high in the air, while shouting Expelliarmus to take their wands from them. As Bellatrix let out a loud and annoyed bellow, she stomped closer, her wand out and her face curled viciously.
"The whole secret of existence is to have no fear. Never fear what will become of you, depend on no one. Only the moment you reject all help are you freed," Brighton told her, before standing behind her and crossing his arms behind his back. "We will not interfere unless you call upon us," he assured, "which I highly doubt you will."
Hermione nodded at the three men as they lined up behind her and moved to meet Bellatrix head on. "I don't suppose you want to do this traditionally," Hermione said, her lip curling with disdain. "I wouldn't want to take the fun out of ruthlessly attacking people for you," she said sarcastically.
Bellatrix laughed, throwing her head back in amusement, her brittle, thin hair falling down to past her waist. She lifted her arm, her gnarled fingers wound tightly around the thin wand, long, dark finger nails standing out in a startling and vicious manner. "How have you been, mudblood? I heard the mongrel was killed recently. What a sad, sad event," she mocked, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
Hermione's mouth twitched, the urge to scream and just tackle the woman dumbly ran across her mind. "Stupefy!" she said instead, hoping to catch the woman off guard with her sudden attack, rather than a witty response. Unfortunately, Bellatrix got out of the way just in time, her expression told Hermione she hadn't expected it though. "What's wrong, Lestrange? Worried a little mudblood might be the one to do you in?" she asked, her eyes thinned as they began circling one another, watching for any sign that the other would strike.
She laughed, rich and throaty. "Do me in? Child, it can't be done. I'm just below the Dark Lord, you couldn't reach my power on your best day." She grinned, her face lit with maniacal glee. "Crucio!" she exclaimed, her eyes lighting with excitement.
Hermione leapt out of the way before the curse could catch her, the light nearly skimming her arm. She caught herself before she stumbled and angled her wand up carefully. "Arrogance is a fatal flaw, Lestrange," she replied, swinging her wand around and shouting, "Sectumsempra!"
Bellatrix cried out as her arm tore open in jagged tears from her wrist to her shoulder. Growling, she turned on Hermione, eyes ablaze, and waved her wand at her, yelling a hurling hex that managed to throw Hermione into the wall behind her and then throwing a cutting curse that sliced open Hermione's forearms as she lifted them to shield herself.
Mildly dazed, Hermione picked herself back up and attacked back with a Furnuculus hex. She took a small enjoyment from the cries of the dark woman as she broke out in boils. Before she could react, she shouted, "Conjuctivitis."
Blinded, Bellatrix roared angrily, waving her wand around, no idea where to aim. She shot off random spells, missing her target but managing to destroy shops and signs around them. Hermione used it to her advantage and shot a stunner, but Bellatrix listened to her voice and jumped out of the way. Using what she heard, Lestrange then shot a Crucio back and Hermione was unable to get out of the way. Pain ripped and tore at her as she collapsed on the ground, gasping for breath and writhing in agony. It lasted a few minutes before Bellatrix let it up and cackled, turning the wand on herself and remembering the counter curse to the Conjuctivitis hex.
Hermione panted for breath, trying to stand but failing. Her limbs burned and her throat felt dry and pained. Bellatrix was getting closer but Hermione couldn't seem to get her wits about her and stand up. Her eyes landed on a spot in the alley, and her mind flashed to the day she was left holding her husband as he died. There was so much blood everywhere, and Bellatrix just laughed in the background, taking joy in the death of the man Hermione loved. Hearing the click clack of Bellatrix's shoes, Hermione's eyes turned back to her, burning with hatred.
"What's wrong, mudblood?" she asked, her tone twisted in fake sympathy. "Is somebody missing her half-breed husband?" she mocked, sneering. "He deserved death, just as you do." She knelt in front of Hermione, grinning darkly. "This will be one of my greatest victories," she told her, sinfully happy. "Your death means I've taken part in the slaying of two out of three of the Golden Trio. Not to mention I killed my dear cousin, Sirius, and his pathetic best friend." Her eyes flashed at Hermione, "With your death, the Wizarding world will be in shambles and the Dark Lord will finally reign like he's destined to. How does it feel? Knowing you've accomplished nothing, and your dear husband died in vain? Just like Potter and Weasley," she spat.
Hermione leaned forward, scowling hatefully, "None of them died in vain," she told her, shaking her head. "Because you will pay for every spilled drop of their blood. CRUCIO!" she shouted, her eyes flashing dangerously.
Lestrange, caught off guard, fell back and screamed in what sounded like nearly pleasure, her mouth curled in mild enjoyment as she writhed and jerked on the ground. Hermione was mildly confused by the reaction, gathering that the woman's psychological state was even worse than what she had thought. Taking the Unforgivable off of her, Hermione rounded her and was half way through a stunner when Bellatrix kicked her leg out and tripped Hermione onto her back. Rolling away, Lestrange rose up on her legs and shook her head. "Perhaps another time, mudblood," she rasped, before apparating away.
Hermione cursed, taking aim just before she disappeared but missed entirely as the stunner hit nothing but air. Rolling on to her stomach, she shook her head and ground her teeth together, loss and anger rolling through her in waves. She could hear the hollow sounds of feet pounding toward her and knew that Brighton, Jacques, and Darnell were coming for her. She felt hands under stomach and around her arms before she was lifted from the ground. Side-along apparating her back to her house, she stared blearily up at Jacques who walked beside her, looking apprehensive and worried. She could hear the outcry of the other werewolves, asking questions and shouting that they needed answers. "She's gone," she whispered, her voice croaky and angry.
"There will be other fights," Darnell assured, his large hands beneath her shoulders and carrying her easily.
"I don't want other fights," Hermione told him, her teeth grit. "I want her gone now. I want it done now!"
"You will not be punished for your anger, you will be punished by your anger," Brighton told her, one of his arms underneath her legs while the other opened the front door. "Buddha has much to say today," he told her, walking backwards into the house.
Hermione sighed, shaking her head. "I'm tired," she told them, her stomach clenching and her body beginning to burn painfully with the aftereffects of the Cruciatus curse.
"You need to be tended to," Darnell told her, as they walked up the stairs to her bedroom.
"I don't want a healer," she said, stubbornly.
"Madame Pomfrey," Jacques said, sounding eager. "You cannot leave zis unattented, Mère Loup, you have been hit wiz see Crucio, it iz not good for you," he told her, shaking his head, his face pinched with concern.
"It hasn't been the first time," she reminded, shaking her head even as she felt her body tense and fight against the clenching of her muscles and the spasming of her limbs.
"Please, 'ermione, do not let yourzelf be 'armed, it iz not good for you," Jacques pleaded. "Let me go. I will talk to ze Ordaire, I will find Madame Pomfrey and bring 'er 'ere myself. Uh? Say I can, 'ermione!" he asked, his eyes wide and innocent.
Hermione sighed, tired and sore. "Fine. But nobody else, Jacques, please," she told him.
He nodded eagerly, before turning to leave and then coming back. "Do not go to zleep! I, uh, do not want you to fall... how they say... unconscious. I will be back in moments, yes!" he said, turning and rushing off.
"Crazy French boy," Darnell mumbled, dropping her carefully on her bed. He smoothed her hair off her forehead, which was now damp with sweat. "You'll be fine, copil."
"I should have stunned her when I had a chance. I shouldn't have kept speaking. Just stunned her, or Avada'd her," Hermione exclaimed, shaking her head and gripping the blanket beneath her. She shook her head suddenly, looking down. "No, I'm on the wrong side!" she told them, looking aghast.
"Wrong side?" Brighton asked, looking confused.
"This is Remus' side," she told them, using her shaky arms to try and drag herself to the other side. "He sleeps on this side, I never do. It's... it's his, I can't... I can't..." She sighed, shaking her head and felling tears prick at her eyes.
Brighton shook his head, but reached out, helping lift her across. "Sorry, 'Mione, I didn't realize," he apologized, trying to fluff her pillow behind her head.
"Don't apologize," Darnell told him, gruffly. "Now, 'ermione, you know as well as I do that Remus doesn't use that side of the bed anymore. It's time you came to grips with--"
"Darnell, I don't think this is the time," Brighton interrupted, shaking his head angrily.
"There's never a right time to tell a wife to move on from 'er 'usband, Brighton," Darnell snapped back gruffly. "But we shouldn't coddle 'er. It'll only leave 'er in this state longer."
"And what state is that? Leon Bloy said, 'There are places in the heart that do not yet exist; suffering has to enter for them to come to be.' We cannot stop her from feeling what she is feeling, we can only support her decisions in the task," Brighton responded, his tone even but his eyes dark with annoyance.
"I will not support 'er wallowing. I will not watch 'er wither away to nothing. She is a strong, proud woman and I will not see 'er any other way. Remus would not want it and I will not allow it," Darnell shouted, shaking his head. "If you want to stand by while she falls away into 'er depression then do so, but do not ask me to do the same." He turned to Hermione, his face curled with anger, but not at her. "You 'ave all your life. To live, to love, to destroy Bellatrix for what she's done. But do not let the lives lost be in vain by letting yourself fall deeper into this. You're ruled by 'ate and anger, but Remus loved just the opposite about you. Would 'e want to see you this way?" he asked, staring at her searchingly.
Hermione felt tears coursing down her cheeks and closed her eyes to get away from the worry in Darnell's. She let out a soft sigh, shaking her head in response. Before he could reply, the door opened and Jacques returned with Madame Pomfrey. She bustled inside, all the while mumbling to herself about Jacques getting her worried into a tizzy over far more than what had happened. The men were sent out of the room as the medi-witch bustled around, giving Hermione something to ease the pain and putting her into a dreamless sleep. Part of Hermione longed for the potion, she hated seeing Remus die every time she closed her eyes. However, another part rebelled, wanting the first part of the dream, while she spent a regular day with Remus, as though everything were fine. That part was comforting, even though she knew what was coming.
"There, there, Mrs. Lupin," Madame Pomfrey said softly. "Rest easy, child."
Hermione slipped away, her body relaxing and her mind getting away from her. She didn't wake up until late into the night, which was her custom anyway. Her body ached as she sat up, joints feeling as though they were grating against each other. She turned onto her side, remembering Bellatrix's triumphant face as she apparated away. She was so close, she could've destroyed her. It would all be over then, she wouldn't have anything else left to do. She wondered what she would do when it was all done with. Her and Remus' dreams were all but unattainable now. She had told Darnell that she'd consider returning to the Order, but the idea repulsed her. She wanted nothing to do with it, she wanted to forget all about everything. But she couldn't leave the Wizarding world, that would mean leaving all of it behind. It would mean forgetting Remus and all that they had. She sighed, her shoulders felt heavy with responsibility and worry.
Rising from the bed, she moved to the window, staring out at the moon in the sky. "I'm sorry, Remus," she whispered, her eyes filling. "I'm sorry I didn't stop her. I could have. She was right there. I was too slow and overwhelmed and..." Her breathing picked up, making her chest tighten. "This would all be so easy if you were here," she breathed, shaking her head as the tears fell from her eyes. "I can't sleep... It feels wrong without you. I need you here and I don't... I don't know how to do any of this without you. I... I love you and I miss you and I don't know what to do about that," she whimpered, shaking.
Wrapping her arms around her, she tried to reign in the tears and sobs that pleaded to get out. Sniffling, she walked to the chair in the corner, picking up his robe and encasing herself in it. She lifted the lapel, bringing it up to her face to inhale the welcoming scent of him. Leaving the room, she made her way downstairs, instead of going for tea, however, she made her way to the study. Perhaps a little light reading could wind her down. Entering the room, she felt an instant relaxation overcome her. Over the years, her and Remus had created there own small library. There was a book on virtually every subject inside, alphabetically organized of course. Stepping to the nearest bookcase, her eyes roamed the spines, reading the titles and mentally rereading all that she already gathered from each of them. Her hands reached out, walking across the books as she moved along. She came to a stop in front of a book she'd never noticed before and wondered if perhaps it was one of the new ones Remus had bought just before their last trip to Diagon Alley.
"Time: The Interwoven Delicacy Unwoven," she read, her brow furrowing. Pulling it from the shelf, she sat down in a chair and opened it to the beginning, only to become quickly entranced. Inside, she read all about time traveling, though she thought she knew all there was to know. With each page, her hope was rejuvenated. A constant question came to her with each word, "What if...?" Hours later, in the early morning, with the rays slipping through the curtains, Hermione came to a startling and huge conclusion. If she went back in time, she could change it all. Save the Potter's, which would give Harry a real chance at life. Stop the war before it affected the Weasley's too much, which would in turn save so many. Destroy Voldemort before he could even make a Boy-Who-Lived. She could even save the Longbottom's, giving Neville back his parents. It all seemed like such a beautiful dream. A world without Voldemort, without the loss of all who mattered to her.
The book was very direct however, if she went back, she could never return to her time. It would still be there, at least until she did something drastic enough to change it irrevocably. While small changes would cause a ripple effect to this world, it wouldn't destroy it entirely. She would have to do something big before this 2003 would be nothing but a dark and dreadful memory. And she'd have to be careful about what she did and how she did it. She couldn't exactly go back over twenty years and tell everybody who would listen that she knew the future. However, she couldn't hide it from everyone. She'd have to tell someone, at least Dumbledore. But what about Remus, he wouldn't be her Remus, really. She would be giving up her Remus, because he'd never really grow up to be the one she had loved so dearly. Could she do that? It would give him a better life, even if he wasn't with her. He would have his best friends. That loss had hurt him so much over the years. She could give them back to him. Was she willing to?
She'd have to be careful and she couldn't just up and disappear, not with the clans around her constantly. And what about Darnell, Jacques, and Brighton? Maybe... Perhaps... She could tell them! Yes, if anything went wrong, at least they would know. She could trust them and it's quite possible that she might even meet two of them in the past. Certainly Darnell and Brighton would be alive. Why, Brighton would be the same age as Remus, of course. And Darnell, he'd be in his early forties. Jacques though, he wouldn't be born for another few years. But she would meet him eventually. The werewolf training would just have to start earlier than it did. Twenty six years earlier. She'd go back to the beginning of Remus' seventh year, that way she could get closer to Dumbledore and the Marauders. Maybe there's a position open as a professor...
Closing the book, she sighed, she had made her decision. Now, it was only a matter of explaining it to the three men who swore to keep her safe and alive. By this time tomorrow, she hoped to be standing in a world twenty six years younger, where Voldemort hadn't yet destroyed all hope. Where the world still had a chance and people could walk down the streets without fear of another attack taking the lives of those they love. Where Remus was alive and well. And young, she thought, so very, very young. Why, he wouldn't have any idea of what he had with her in the future, and he never would. She couldn't tell him, that would only cause a sense of responsibility. No, she had to let him live his new life, while she did all in her power to create it for him. There was much to do, she couldn't go empty handed and she certainly couldn't wait much longer to do the complicated spell.
So much to do, and so little time to do it, she thought wryly.
TBC
A/N Long, I know! Phew... lol. I hope you're enjoying this. The next chapter involves her finally going, so it's not that far off. I just needed to give you an understanding of her and what's been happening in her time. Also, Remus' dying is very important, so I thought you should all have a view on how it went. I cried like a baby writing it, and it gets me every time I read it since. I'd like to know what you all thought of that part especially!
Translations (as found on another site, so if they're not true, my deepest apologies:
copil baby, child, cub
pui de lup: wolf pup, wolf cub, wolf baby
Please review, this is my first try and a TimeTravel fic, and I'd really like to know what you all think. Thanks for reading!
Much Love,
-Amanda
