Sorting Out
Chapter 2
As she broke into fresh sobs, Remus scooped her up and cradled her to his chest.
"We are going to the library –"
"NO!" shouted Harry. "She needs us right now!"
"She needs me to help her process this. Then, I promise, we'll explain in the morning," he answered, pushing defiantly through their friends and heading towards the door.
The slight wizard betrayed his strength with the ease in which he carried the 17 year old witch cradled in his arms. Nudging the library door open with his hip, he kicked it shut with his foot, the force of his action betraying his anger.
"Malenki, it wasn't supposed to be like this," he muttered, sitting down on the small settee, holding her in his arms and against his chest like an infant.
"But it is," she moaned through her crying. "And now I'm blubbering like an idiot, Moony."
"Shhh, my sweet Malenki, just talk it out to me; tell me what is in your head." He stroked her brown bushy hair, so much like their mother's. The memory of sitting alone beside their mother's bed, brushing her hair and holding her hand before she died, struck him painfully.
"Everything…it's like all the memories are there, but not in any order, and the fake memories were supposed to fade and they aren't."
"You mean you can still remember the Granger childhood Albus gave you?"
"Parts of it, and my own. What possessed that man to give this much responsibility to an eleven year old?"
"This was our only hope, Harry needed you – "
"At the expense of you and Agapi!"
"Albus made us a promise, it's here," he answered, drawing a letter out of his inner robe pocket. "We were to open it together."
She gingerly took the folded parchment from his hand; the magical seal bore a shimmering phoenix – the Headmaster's personal mark. The front was addressed in his recognizable handwriting; Remus and Hermione Lupin.
"Is this the only one?"
"The only one he gave me."
"You open it," she said, thrusting it back into his hands, blotting her eyes with her robe sleeve.
"You always make me do the hard stuff," he replied, chuckling as he slid a finger under the seal and broke it with a small shower of sparks. Unfolding it, he held it out for both of them to read.
My Dearest Children,
Hermione, first let me say I am so sorry for all you had to give up. I asked you to trust me explicitly, and I fear you are regretting that decision now. Everything that has happened was out of necessity, not just for you and your brother, but for the entire Wizarding world. Had you not done so, none of us would have survived.
You spent the first 11 years of your life betrothed to a boy who loved you with the love of an innocent. He still does love you, just with the reality of adulthood. Please, don't blame him for what happened, or the part he had to play.
And trust me when I say he has yelled at me enough for all three of you.
Your brother, he has missed you terribly, and needs you now more than ever. Tell him Miss Tonks loves him, if he's still too blind to see it for himself.
Your parents knew the truth before they died, they saw the part you would play and were so very proud of you, my dear. Let your memory of them be happy, and know that they believed in the cause, and both their children's contributions to it.
Remus, help her – she's spent the last six years serving as a sounding board for Harry, and he's going to need her even more now. But she'll need you, especially until this is all over. I'm sorry for hurting you by stealing away your confidant and best friend. Please know I would never have done so if it hadn't been the only way.
As for, what is it you call him? Agapi? I have made my apologies to him, and I pray the three of you will gain the happiness you so richly deserve someday soon. I have seen this future, and I can only pray that you will find it personally as wonderful as your original one.
Spend a few days reuniting with your brother. Then, my dears, go on Harry's mission; if you have this letter than I have already died and time is running short. Remus, what they are doing is not for me to tell you, but for them to share when the time is right.
Oh, and tell Harry not to pout for to long about not knowing this information (for that matter, Molly and Minerva should be told to stop pouting also).
Blessings on your Journey,
Albus Dumbledore
Remus reverently folded the letter again, and held it out for Hermione to take and slide into her robe pocket.
"They're sorting themselves out."
"The memories?"
"Yes…it's fascinating, really. All the things I remember about Mr. and Mrs. Granger are disappearing, fading sort of. I can see them, but it's like I was watching a book, instead of living it. And I can remember bits of my first year at Hogwarts –" she paused and let out a chuckle.
Remus cocked an eyebrow.
"Harry and Ron are going to have a fit when they find out I was Slytherin first."
"I have to admit I was happy when you became a Gryffindor the second time around," Remus confessed.
Her eyes grew dark again – "Agapi, did he keep his promises?"
"As much as he could…we both did."
Hermione laid her head back on Remus' chest and sighed.
"Maybe you should sleep, my Malenki," he suggested. "Maybe the memories need time to sort themselves out."
"Do you think they're going to understand tomorrow?" she asked, staring off into the fireplace.
"If not tomorrow, then eventually. We've come this far, we have to trust Albus knew what he was doing."
"Why did he have to die?" A fresh bout of crying began.
"Is it wrong to say I'm glad to have you back?"
She didn't answer, instead burying herself into his side, soaking his robes with her tears.
He knew she had drifted off to sleep when she stopped spinning the ring on her finger in agitation.
The night passed with the troubled sleeping witch cuddled in his arms, just like she had when she was four and was deathly scared of cows and would crawl into his bed instead of their parents.
Only his sister would have nightmares of cows rather than werewolves.
God, how he had missed her.
Remus woke up first, and stretched his legs out in front of himself. He gently squeezed Hermione who had curled up under his arm, her head resting on his chest, her hands balled up under her chin.
"Hermione, we need to get up."
She squirmed in his arms, and looked up at him. Her eyes gazed adoringly at his, and for a moment Remus was transported back to when she was a toddler, and would drag her stuffed animal and blanket into his bed and stare at him, waiting for him to wake up on Saturday mornings.
"Good morning, Mooney," Hermione said with a smile in her voice.
"Morning, Malenki. Ready to go face the music?" He prodded her in the side.
She blinked a few times and a wide grin covered her face.
"They're all back and in place!"
"Good, because if my guess is correct, we've got a lot of questions to answer," he replied.
They both turned at the sound of a soft knock on the door, and it slowly opened revealing Minerva's head.
"Children, it's time for breakfast."
"Professor McGonagall!"
"I think you've earned the right to call me Minerva, dear," she crossed to the younger witch and stroked her hair. "That stubborn old codger put a charm on me that faded about four hours ago."
"Minerva?" Remus questioned.
"I have her old school trunks, with her childhood belongings and other robes," she answered with a grimace.
Hermione couldn't stop herself from giggling.
"Now, move along, there's a houseful of people with more questions than I care to answer alone," she prodded, standing behind the siblings and pushing them towards the door.
The dining room table was full, with everyone staring when the two Lupins entered the room, Minerva close behind.
Even Ron was managing not to look too bleary-eyed.
"Umm, where to start?" Hermione said, for the first time in her life she found herself at a loss for words.
"Try at the beginning," muttered Harry, his irritation having only grown overnight.
"Stop pouting, Harry. Sweet Merlin, Dumbledore was right in his letter!" Hermione responded.
"ACCIO DUMBLDORE LETTER!" cried Harry, before anyone could stop him.
The letter flew to Harry's outstretched hand, and was almost immediately jerked back out of it by Hermione who took three steps to get to him.
"You're a BLOODY PRAT just like James! We're about to TELL you," she said, tucking it back into her inner robe pocket.
"James?" Harry answered, staring at her dumbfounded.
"Hermione, dear, you have to admit he's got quite a bit of Lily in him, too," Remus soothed her, pulling out a chair and helping her to sit down, before he took a seat next to Tonks.
"Will someone just get to the point?" asked Ron, through his mouth full of toast and marmalade.
"Yes, yes I will," Hermione took a deep breathe and smiled at Remus when he squeezed her hand.
"It all started my first year at Hogwarts. Dumbledore came to my parents and asked them to allow me to start a year early. So I was ten, almost eleven, my first year – "
"Mione, you turned twelve that September – " Ron corrected.
"HUSH!" scolded Molly, whapping her youngest son on the back of the head.
"I was ten, and the youngest in my year by at least a month. But it was okay, because Remus and –" she paused and looked at her brother before continuing, "Remus was a year ahead of me."
Everyone but Minerva and Remus stared in shock.
"I spent a year at Hogwarts – my first year, around Easter, the Headmaster came to the three of us and said he needed me to do something."
"Three?" asked Ginny.
"Hermione, myself, and our best friend in her house."
"My mum?" asked Harry.
"Not bloody likely," interjected Minerva.
"My dad?" asked Harry.
"Really not bloody likely," said Minerva.
"Why not?" he questioned, sounding a little hurt.
"Dear, Miss Lupin wasn't in my house her first time around."
"Oh," Harry said relieved, "we always knew she was a Ravenclaw at heart."
"I was Slytherin," Hermione answered, thinking ripping the bandage off was the smartest course of action in this case, plus it might keep everyone silent until she finished her story.
It worked for a moment.
"I was saying, Dumbledore told us he had received a message from himself, in the future. We still aren't sure how it worked, but it involved Fawkes, a time turner, a letter, and a pensive. The gist was that I needed to come to you and Ron."
"But, time turners altering history is illegal!" Ron sputtered.
"There was no Ministry left to object in the original time," Minerva answered, revealing she knew a bit more than she was letting on.
Arthur nodded absently and tightened his grip on his wife's hands.
"The Headmaster placed me under a memory charm, set to fade at midnight of his funeral. Minerva and a few of the other Professors were also subjected to the charm."
"Professor Slughorn, especially, since he was your Head of House," Minerva added.
"Remus and my friend – "
"Hermione, tell them the whole truth," Remus insisted.
"Fine, I was betrothed at the age of two to a three year old wizard who then also attended Hogwarts. He was my best friend, and Remus tolerated him for my sake."
"You know that's not true!" interjected her brother, a bit offended by the remark.
"I'm NOT going to discuss him right now," she said, her voice catching.
"Fine, but we will discuss it," Remus retorted.
"Mr. and Mrs. Granger are squibs, like Mrs. Figg, who helped the Headmaster by pretending to be my parents. In reality, I have spent very little time there, it's most likely why they never had a problem with me coming to the Burrow or staying over the holidays. I had a set of false memories, a false childhood, which are fading. I imagine in a couple of days it will be like a story I once read, rather than my life."
"So, Dumbledore didn't trust me to be able to do this myself?" asked Harry.
"You DIDN'T do it yourself! And you wouldn't have, you needed both Ron and I to help you through the last six years, stop being so stubborn! It took all three of us." Hermione said.
"Like you would understand how I feel."
"Harry, I love you, you are one of my best friends, and I know EXACTLY what I gave up to be with you and Ron. The Headmaster let me see what would happen if I stayed, and I made the choice knowing what I would lose, and what it would cost me and my family – "
"He told you?" Remus interrupted.
"Yes," her voice softening, "I would have had a daughter and he – he wouldn't have ever been in danger, and we would have died. All of us would have died. Voldemort would have won. And you," she turned to Remus, "you wouldn't have loved Lily and James and Sirius. And –"
"And I wouldn't have had the joy of the smartest witch of her generation being in Gryffindor," answered Minerva, wrapping a grandmotherly arm around Hermione's shoulders.
"So, Hermione is in her 30's?" asked Ron, looking rather perplexed.
"Not exactly, she's only lived 17 years, and turns 18 in a few months – but if you add the time she spent with the time turner in her 3rd year – "
"It's complicated, but suffice to say she is of age in the Wizarding and Muggle world."
"And?" asked Harry, "Dumbledore believed we needed each other to finish this, right?"
"Yes," said Hermione.
"Then I trust him," he stated, taking her hands in his and looking into her eyes. "You were friends with my mum?"
"I knew her; we liked to watch Quidditch practices together."
"My mum liked Quidditch?"
"Lily liked the Quidditch players, just like Hermione," Remus couldn't help but give her a jab in her side. Hermione had the grace to blush.
"She doesn't like watching it much now –" Ron spoke up.
"I came to all the games, but practice just didn't hold the same allure, Ron. Forgive me?"
"Always, 'Mione," he answered as he stood to cross behind her and drop a kiss on her cheek. "I always knew you were our secret weapon."
"Please, may I be excused? I just want to sleep a little while longer," Hermione asked, standing up.
"Go on upstairs, dear. I'll bring your trunks to your room later," Minerva answered.
Hermione stood, rubbing her eyes and heading for the staircase. As soon as she left the room, everyone started whispering to each other. Ginny arose and caught her mother's eye, and nodded at her mother's pointed stare. She followed Hermione into the other room.
"Is that what the ring is?" Ginny asked quietly.
"Yes, it was my betrothal ring," she answered, spinning the platinum band around her forefinger, the dual snake heads catching in the hall light.
"Is he still alive?"
"Oh, Ginny, I don't know," she cried, brokenly. "I just don't know."
"What was his name?"
"I called him Agapi," her voice fracturing, just like her composure.
She leaned on her friend and allowed the redhead to help her upstairs to their shared bedroom.
A/N: Thanks to my beta, Drakien, and the readers. As promised - here's your Sunday Update. Happy Easter 2006!