"I can't believe Moony was able to get away for a few days and didn't even tell any of us," James grumbles.

Before Hermione can offer any comment, Lily smirks and asks, "Can't you? He didn't want to waste any time on us."

"Oh, please don't put it like that," Hermione exclaims, exasperated. "Remus would have loved to see you. It was just that he was only able to get away from his parents for a day."

"And he went to see you."

Hermione casts her gaze downward, unable to suppress a small smile. She didn't realize just how self-conscious she would feel about Remus's visit until she made plans to meet the Potters in Diagon Alley before the following Order meeting and realized that she'd promised to let them know if she heard from him.

Even as she feels self-conscious, though… Lily's right. Remus had one day to do anything, and he wanted to spend it with her. And something about that warms her heart.

"Do either of you know anything about the plans for the meeting?" Hermione asks, lowering her voice.

"No, none at all," Lily says.

James adds, "Which is peculiar. He usually gives us at least some idea of what to expect. Have you not even heard anything from McGonagall or anyone else?"

"I haven't," Hermione says quietly, and she's thinking in part of Dumbledore's relationship with Harry as she continues, "I get the sense that Dumbledore keeps everyone in the dark to a certain extent, McGonagall included."

"There's something to that," James agrees. "He's our best chance at stopping Voldemort, but I'm sure I'm not alone when I say that I wonder what he's thinking sometimes. Moody, Kingsley, Ted… they keep saying that he knows what's best, but…"

He trails off, and there's a moment when Hermione cannot imagine that anyone will venture to say what she knows they're all thinking. But then Lily breathes, "James, darling, if you're thinking of Remus…"

"Oh, do you disagree? You think it made sense for him to reach out to transient, potentially violent werewolves by sending a boy just out of school? We all know that Moony's competent, but Lily, you've told me that you don't think any of us are ready to go out and do anything much on our own, so I know you don't understand what Dumbledore was thinking."

Lily glances around surreptitiously. "We shouldn't be talking about this here."

James heaves a loud sigh. "Fine. I'm nearly done with my drink, then we can go. But I'm not dropping this."

And indeed, while Hermione and Lily attempt to make conversation, James stews silently, giving off the distinct impression that he will return to the subject as soon as possible.

She wishes that she could tell Remus just how much James is being like Harry right now. It would be endearing and comforting if it were about literally anything else. As it is, James's questions cut deep. Ever since Remus came to see her, Hermione's also been wondering once more how much Dumbledore actually believes that Remus can help.

The moment they've left the Leaky Cauldron, James brings it up again, not even really expecting a reaction as he asks, "Doesn't he know anyone else? Literally anyone?" and, "The least he could have done was send someone along with him, someone who could at least be nearby so that he wouldn't be all alone. Padfoot or Wormtail or Jean…"

"He would have never sent me," Hermione mumbles.

James stops in the middle of a thought, looking to Hermione abruptly. "What do you mean? How do you know?"

"Oh, he…" Hermione hesitates and considers her options. In the past week or so, she's also found herself once again asking whether Dumbledore was trying to separate her and Remus by sending him away. But she doesn't want to voice this thought aloud to James and Lily because they wouldn't believe that there's any justification for her suspicions. She'd never actually allowed herself to suggest the possibility to Remus because even in her own head, it sounds paranoid.

"I just don't think he'd want Remus to be distracted," she says at last.

James scoffs. "You're probably right."

As they arrive at Order Headquarters, James almost immediately gets diverted and enters into a conversation with Alastor Moody. Meanwhile, Lily links arms with Hermione as they head into the meeting room. "I'm sorry about James," Lily says quietly. "He's just missing Remus. We all are, but I don't think he expected to worry about him as much as he does."

"I understand." Hermione tries her best to smile. "I'm sure Remus would be touched that he cares so much."

"Yes, he would," Lily agrees. Her smile, too, is lukewarm, almost sad. "He is… he is doing alright, though?"

Hermione runs over all that Remus told her, and finds that all that she can say is, "I think he's doing as well as he could be."

Lily grimaces. After a moment of silence, she asks, "Dumbledore does have a good reason for sending Remus out on his own, doesn't he?"

"Of course he does," Hermione replies automatically.

Another extensive period of silence passes between them. It's only broken when Hagrid claims the empty seat beside Hermione and draws them into a conversation about the Hollyhead Harpies' recent win against the Chudley Canons, a subject change that's welcome to both young women.

James slides into a seat next to Lily as the rest of the Order begins to filter in. He makes a whispered comment: "It seems like everyone's here tonight. This is the first time that Kingsley and my parents have been here in over a month. They were talking to Dumbledore's brother, and I always thought that my parents were making him up."

"I guess tonight really is a big deal," Lily whispers.

Hermione finds her eyes drawn to the doorway just as Dumbledore arrives, and for a brief moment, it feels as though he's looking straight at her, too, as he grimaces just slightly.

"Good evening, everyone," he says as he takes a seat at the head of the table. He sounds tired, more so than any other time in Hermione's memory. "I thank you all for taking the time to join us this evening. I know that many of you have other obligations. We'll begin with updates on recent missions, I think. Kingsley?"

Kingsley has begun to keep an eye on the Muggle Prime Minister, as Hermione remembers he did during her own time. The key difference is that he is not doing so for the Ministry of Magic, so his report consists primarily of the lies that he has had to tell the Ministry, and of the lies that the Ministry has been telling the wizarding world about the Death Eaters' behavior toward Muggles.

"It's only getting worse," he tells them sadly. "Every time I see the Prime Minister, he has about a dozen new mysterious deaths to ask me about, things that our Ministry has been quick to hush up. Nearly all innocent Muggles… as far as I can tell, killed purely for sport. I've tried to reach out to their families, but it's difficult to keep up with them all."

Kingsley's words hang over them as Moody, Andromeda Tonks, and the Longbottoms deliver what little news they have about their own missions, even lingering once Alice has fallen silent.

Dumbledore leaves room for this, waiting for some moments before he clears his throat and says, "Thank you. Now, we have a few new matters to discuss, but I'd like to start with some information that my friend Elphias Doge has provided me with. In the past few weeks, the Minister, in coordination with Bartemius Crouch, has begun a series of discreet interrogations of arrested and suspected Death Eaters, entirely separate from the Wizengamot. I've no doubt that I was excluded intentionally. Crouch has never been particularly fond of me.

A few Order members chuckled at this, and Dumbledore smiled graciously before continuing. "Thankfully, Elphias has sat in on a vast majority of these interrogations as the recorder. Now, much of it has proven to be rather useless, but it seems that they have stumbled upon some rather valuable information quite by accident. A few weeks ago, Alastor apprehended a number of Death Eaters who made the mistake of attacking Arthur and Molly Weasley while he and Ted were visiting. One of them, Avery, is a member of Voldemort's inner circle."

Beside Dumbledore, McGonagall clears her throat. "Albus, as compelling as this exposition is…"

He sighs, more out of exasperation with himself than with the interruption. "Yes, Minerva, you're quite right. My apologies. It appears that the attack on the Weasleys is not going to be an isolated incident. Now that Voldemort's ranks have grown, he intends to direct his attention away from Muggles and attack other so-called 'blood traitors,' which includes many of the people sitting in this room."

More than a few people around the table begin to whisper, but Dumbledore talks over them. "My intention is not for you all to go through your days in fear. Rather, I wanted to reach out to as much of the Order as possible to ensure that everyone is on their guard. We just might be able to turn this situation to our advantage if we are prepared."

Dumbledore keeps talking, providing the Order with suggestions for how best to remain cautious. But Hermione's barely listening. All she hears, over and over, is that now, the Death Eaters have become more confident in their ability to attack other wizards.

Now, Remus is probably in even more danger.

For a few days, Hermione is able to think of little else but her increasing concern for Remus. She reaches a point where she's able to go through her days very much as normal, but there's a hardly a moment – even during class and at meals – when it's not on her mind, lurking behind every word that she speaks.

She wouldn't be able to determine the precise moment that her anxiety began to transform, but in the span of about an exhausting, sleepless week, Hermione finds that she's mostly just angry. For countless things. Angry with herself for ending up in the past, angry with Remus for following Dumbledore's orders so blindly, angry with Dumbledore for…

Well. Hermione's angry with Dumbledore for so many reasons, but somewhere along the line, she channels all of that into the fact that he sent Remus away for no justifiable reason that she can see. And he might have sent Remus away because of her.

Two weeks in a row, she avoids the Order meetings, hoping that she'll be able to shut off her exasperation.

And then, the week before the holidays, Dumbledore summons her to his office.

There's a moment, as Hermione first walks through the door, when she feels deeply inspired by the memory of Harry's exasperation with Dumbledore in their fifth year and somewhat compelled to mimic one of his tirades. But then Dumbledore gives her a sad, patient smile, and she loses her nerve as she remembers the many reasons that this man earned her deepest respect.

"Good evening, Professor," she says instead.

"Miss Granger. I hope you're well. Please, come sit."

She claims the seat across from him silently, aching to make small talk but at a total loss for things to say. He allows their silence to hang for a few moments as he considers her, perhaps as he considers his words. When he does speak, he's looking at some spot on the wall over her head, not at her.

"Do you ever find yourself tempted to describe the events of the future?"

Hermione's first instinct is to lie. As it is, though, she says, "Yes."

"I have considered on a few occasions whether I would be able to remain as silent about events as you have. In tenuous times like these… I imagine that a fair number of those who you encounter at Order meetings are mere ghosts to you."

"Yes, sir," she says, her voice low and shaking.

He closes his eyes and sighs. "You have been with us now for the better part of a year. And thought I don't believe I imagined it possible when Mr. Lupin first found you in the Great Hall, I have come to trust your judgment." Finally looking Hermione in the eye, he smiles just slightly as he adds, "I must say that I am looking forward to the day when you come to join us as a first-year."

Hermione blushes. "I appreciate that very much."

Dumbledore nods slightly, but then his expression grows somber once more. "That said, it would be remiss of me to refrain from telling you that this past weekend, I received an owl from my contact in the Department of Mysteries from whom I received all of the research relating to time travel. And as I believe you and I both suspected, it appears that they chose to keep some information to themselves."

"They… they did?" Hermione asks. She and Dumbledore haven't discussed the Department of Mysteries since the Order meeting over the summer, when she told him that she'd run out of research materials—it feels peculiar for him to be talking about it so in-depth once more. "What does that mean, exactly?"

"I believe it means that either he or his superiors wanted to ensure that the elimination of the time turner's defects could be completed through our Department of Mysteries. I wish I could say that it had to do with more than a desire for recognition, but…" Dumbledore sighs. "I wager that my relationship with the Unspeakables will not be particularly cordial for quite some time as a result of this."

Hermione stares at Dumbledore, afraid to ask that question that's hanging in the air.

But he answers it when he reaches into a drawer of his desk and pulls out a box, setting it down on the surface between them. "However, they provided me with a gift, no doubt as an attempt at an apology. It seems they have developed enough prototypes that they are willing to let one go."

"Oh." She blinks down at the box. "But I… I don't want to leave."

Dumbledore is quiet for a few moments, then: "I have no intention of forcing you to go anywhere, Miss Granger. That said, I maintain that your place is in your own time—regardless of whatever precautions you might take, your presence here is too dangerous."

Hermione does her best to ignore the anger that's once again building in her gut. It would be easier to embrace her frustration if she weren't cognizant of the fact that there's a great deal of validity to Dumbledore's concern.

"Professor, you just complimented me for maintaining my silence about the future. Do you expect that to change?"

It takes Dumbledore several moments to formulate a response this time. Each second feels to Hermione like an eternity.

"Although I am aware of the plausible counterarguments, it is my belief that even though you remain on your guard, even though you have no intentions of affecting the events that will unfold… you have most likely already meddled with time in the most undiscernible ways, purely by not maintaining distance from the people and things of 1977. You have already left an indelible mark on the lives of many—myself included."

Here, too, he has a point, and Hermione is well aware that she should bite her tongue. But her next words spill out anyway, her irritation leaking through each syllable: "If you're referring to Remus…"

"Of course I'm referring to Remus Lupin." Dumbledore's eyes look genuinely sad, although his mouth forms only a fine line. "To all of his friends, as well, but of course your relationship with Mr. Lupin concerns me in particular."

She swallows hard. "Is that why you sent him away?"

Dumbledore raises his eyebrows almost imperceptibly. "You are asking me if I sent Mr. Lupin on a potentially life-threatening mission purely because I wanted to keep you apart."

Even as he says it, Hermione's aware that it sounds rather absurd. But she nods slowly and mumbles, "I know you've done worse."

"I imagine that's true," he sighs. "But no, Miss Granger. I did not. Although the fact that you feel the need to ask… Well. It seems that perhaps Remus Lupin is aware that your place is not here, even if you are not."

Hermione's mouth drops open just slightly as she nearly tries to stammer toward words, but she finds herself at a total loss. "What does that mean?"

"I'm afraid only Mr. Lupin can answer that." Dumbledore pushes the new time turner closer to Hermione before settling back into his chair. "I will say, once again, that I have no intention of forcibly sending you away; there will be a place for you here as long as you like. However, I still believe that I should entrust this device to you. I… do not believe that I possess the self-control with time travel that you have shown."

She nearly refuses. But she reaches out and pockets the box, her heart beating in her throat as she does so. "Is that all, Professor?"

"I believe so. Thank you, Miss Granger."

As soon as Hermione reaches her room, she shoves the time turner as far down into her trunk as it will go. No matter what Dumbledore believes, she can't shake the feeling that she's where she belongs. Here, with Remus.

But Dumbledore's words still linger with her as she drifts to sleep that night. Surely Remus knows by now. Surely he knows that she isn't going to leave him.