Ch.15

Year 3, 1973 – 74

Hermione had finally pieced together the necessary spells and charms to having a working marauder's map. It was not identical to its predecessor, but it was close. She was able to create a bond between her map and the quill in the headmaster's office during the summer. Luckily, Albus understood her curious nature and allowed her to look over the quill and book when she expressed an interest in the admittance process.

Now that the two were linked, names would now pop up on her map no matter where on the Hogwarts grounds they were. She had added her own password, Crookshanks, so no one would be able to access it but her. Hermione opted out of the exasperating jokes and teasing the original had. Instead it just remained a blank sheet of parchment. Much more inconspicuous.

Her next summer objective was to get a handle of apparating. Now that she was entering her third year, she would be able to leave for Hogsmeade and possible sneak away to begin her search.

It was honestly worse than learning to apparate the first time.

She had originally read up on everything regarding to the magical transportation, more than she should have. Hermione knew all the statistics to splinching, injury, and even the death rate. She always figured the best strategy was to arm yourself with all the information and knowledge you could before taking action.

That time the hoard of research she had done did not help her.

If anything, it made matters worse as it got in her head and she was terrified of apparating. After discovering she was a witch and understanding that things she imagined to be impossible could happen, her mind needed to be rewired to think differently.

She kept talking to herself that apparating was the same thing. Even though her brain was telling her it's impossible to just disappear and assaulted her with the despairing facts she read, she needed to be able to apparate.

Without another inconspicuous mode of transportation, she had to try.

That's why at sunrise on a Sunday, while everyone was still resting, a lone girl was standing online just beyond the treelines of the forbidden forest and out of sight. Her wand quickly cast a silencing and notice me now charm around the area, just to divert any surprise visitors.

"Alright, here we go again." Hermione said to herself.

Taking a deep breath, she envisioned herself travelling the short distance to the clearing a few meters in front of her.

Breathing out, she turned on the spot and stepped forward.

Hermione would never enjoy the suffocated and compressed feeling that came with apparating. The sudden darkness that overtook her vision was still unsettling. The witch usually had a sense for how long or whereabouts she was when she travelled, but something was different this time.

The tension and pressure was much stronger. The distortion was mind rattling.

Something was wrong.

Her body was shot out of the darkness and the trees blurred around her. The small body was flung against a tree before falling to a heap on the ground. She gasped in pain and her mind was a mess.

What the bloody hell just happened.

Her back had taken the brunt of the force and was throbbing, a bruise likely developing to span the entire area. Luckily her head hadn't made contact with the thick bark and was cushioned in the fall by her arms. Rocks and dirt were pressing into her skin

She really hated apparating.

Gasping for air, she tried to calm her heart. Trying to think about what went wrong was impossible in the moment, but she still tried. Slowly she lifted her left leg, then her right, and that was followed by her left arm and then by her right. Pushing herself up, the witch positioned her left side to lean in support on the tree that caught her.

Taking a relieved breath, at least it seems like she had all her limbs. Hermione really didn't know how she would explain it to Minerva otherwise. Her arms and legs were covered in scratches and bruises, with dirt and stones sticking on.

Thinking back, it probably wasn't the best idea to just be wearing her usual summer garb of a t-shirt and skirt. She had prepared for potentially splinching and hurting herself, but not to this extent. She had never heard of anyone being shot out like a cannonball before.

Let it never be said that Hermione Granger would let the well enough alone. Finally climbing back to her feet, she began surveying the area. She realized she had overshot her intended location and had reappeared on the other side of the clearing.

Hermione was not happy that things were not going to plan. Ensuring her wand was still in its harness, she grasped the wooden stick and healed the larger of the wounds on her limbs. Taking a final breath, she began a slow pace back to her room.

.

.

.

Hermione's map was never more useful then when she needed to sneak back to her room without encountering anyone.

Locking the door behind her, she collapsed forward onto the bed. Her entire body was a sore mess. After the adrenaline rush died down during her walk back, she was mentally and physically exhausted. Hermione knew time was ticking down and every moment counted, but for right now, she granted herself a moment to rest.

A weight jumping on her bruised back, woke her from her short rest. Shouting out in pain, she sprang onto her feet and unsettled the pressure that rested there. An annoyed meow informed Hermione who had rudely woken her up.

"No, you don't get to be mad, Aurelius. If anything, I should be. How many times do I need to tell you that my body is not a bed or a pillow?"

The kneazle gave a glare before jumping and resting on the warmed sport on her bed. Turning on the spot, the feline made sure her back was to his owner and flicked his tail at her.

"Oh, I'm disturbing your nap, am I? Well, pardon me. No one likes their naps disturbed, do they?" With a roll of her eyes, Hermione retreated to begin treating her other injuries.

She would have time to think on what went wrong after. First things first, she needed to take care of herself. Hermione knew she wouldn't be helping anyone if she couldn't even move.

Grabbing the first aid kit she had taken to assemble, she placed it on her desk. Removing the vial of dittany from its place, she set it to one side and collected a clean cloth. Positioning a mirror behind her, she soaked the fabric in the liquid and slowly pressed it as well as she could to her back.

Hermione really hated being hurt.

But it was even worse that no one was there this time to take care of her.

~TT~

Some days Hermione would forget that she's lived through this again. Then there days like these that would suffocate her with memories. She really hated those days.

The witch had woken up with a gasp and tears running down her cheeks. Her breath came and went in heaves, eyes scrunched, and white knuckles gripping her sheets. After too many close calls, a nightly silencing charm was incorporated into her routine.

She'd usually be able to bounce back quickly enough that no one would notice, but today was just not going in her direction. The others – Lily, Alice and Severus – had given her a wide berth after the brunette would just glare off to the side and ignoring any conversation.

Remus, well Remus wasn't having too good a day either.

He had snapped at her when she disregarded his request for the plate before her at breakfast. Her temper was set off and she sniped at his gluttony and attitude. They went back and forth over throughout the meal until they had to leave for their first period. The others had slowly found their escape from the duo and dreaded what the first class would be like.

.

.

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Detention.

Hermione Granger and Remus Lupin received detention with Professor McGonagall after she had enough of two bickering throughout her class. Hermione knew she needed to calm down, but she was frustrated. Beyond frustrated because it's been three years and she's felt as though she's accomplished nothing.

Here she was enjoying and laughing away with her new friends, with her old friends' parents, when the witch should be saving them. Saving everyone.

Now here she is, scrubbing and shining trophies with one of her best friends across the room doing the same. Hermione set down the dusty trophy and looked over her shoulder at the boy. His eyes were sunken, and his entire body was haggard. She knew the full moon was tomorrow night and he must be feeling at his wits end.

She was a horrible friend. Swallowing her pride, Hermione climbed to her feet and made her way over to the werewolf.

"Remus…" she started.

The werewolf just grunted in acknowledgement.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gone off on you and pushed you."

Still no response.

"Please would you just look at me Remus?" Her face began to warm.

Nothing.

"Honestly, if you're going to be a complete child while I'm trying to be the bigger person and apologize then I may as well not try! It's not as though it was entirely my doing, you were very much a part of our argument as I was! And I know I shouldn't have escalated it and had better control of my emotions when you're like this right now, but I have my moments too! And –"

"when I'm like what?" Remus stood up and looked down at Hermione. He and Severus were beginning their growth spurts and would tower over the girls after the summer.

Hermione's brain short circuited for a second. Eyes wide and blank mind. Blinking she replied, "just as tired and worn down as you were this morning. Worrying about your mum being sick and all.." She was the one to turn her back and go back to her spot, kicking herself for her temper.

"I said that last month. That's- that's not what you meant was it?" Remus whispered into the silent room. If she hadn't turned around, Hermione would've seen her friend's face ashen and hands shaking as empty eyes looked over at her.

A hand on her shoulder wrenched her back around and facing the werewolf again. She took in his desolate look and defeated posture.

"You know."

"I know."

"What am I?" he asked with a grim smile.

"You're my friend!"

"NO HERMIONE! WHAT AM I?" his voice cracked as he demanded an answer.

"The kindest person I know. And that is all that matters Remus!"

"No. no, I'm not. I-I am a monster. I came here perfectly knowing I could destroy everyone here if I make a single mistake and I still came."

He released his hold on her.

Hermione now reached and grabbed his hands and clutched on.

"That's not true Remus. I have seen and faced enough monsters to know that you are not one. Monsters want others to hurt and to live in constant fear. Monsters will see others in pain and rejoice in causing it. Monsters don't show remorse and guilt. And no one could ever convince me others that, that is what you are. You are not a monster Remus." Hermione's eyes had filled with tears watching her best friend tear himself apart for something he had no control over.

She pulled the taller Gryffindor down, so his face was cradled in the nook of her neck. Tears now freely running and staining their faces. Her hands tangled in his hair, combing through comforting strokes. His hands clutched to her sweater, a reminder that she was still there.

"You're a werewolf, but you could never be a monster Remus" She whispered into his hair.

A shuddering sob escaped him as his body lost all the tension it originally held.

The two never finished cleaning the trophies that night. Professors McGonagall came back and saw the two with red, puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. Their bodies entwined and curled around one another, both exhausted from the high emotions that they had fell asleep in the back corner, hands still holding onto one another.

Minerva didn't know what had caused the two to be at such odds that morning and what had happened in her absence that night, but she was a smart witch and could make a good guess. So if she just left them wrapped up together and called for a house elf to go and wake them in the morning then so be it. These were her children and those two more than most could use a break in life.