Chapter 17

Hiya! So, Remus and Hermione will un-mystery some stuff. Yes, I know that's not a real word. Anyway, I'm fiddling with the idea of a Hermione and Lily story. What do ya think? I've definitely been toying around with you guys pairing's wise. I know! I'm sorry! I'm still torn between Hermione and … TO BE CONTINUED! I won't give up the (hardly there) plot yet. I'm not very good when it comes to long term planning. Just as a side note, I didn't realize this until I spelled 'centre' that I remembered I'm spelling it the Canadian way… That's all! Thank you for reading my rambling thoughts!

Song: Alright by Supergrass. (But we are young, we get by, can't go mad, ain't got time.)

(Remus)

I stumbled up the stairs, my joints and muscles protesting quietly in the aftermath of the full moon as I walked up to the seventh-floor corridor. I wondered why Hermione would request something so strange. As I reached Barnabas the Barmy, I spotted Hermione sitting in front of the tapestry, the flickering torch above her lighting up the side of her face. I watched as her eyes glowed bronze in the golden light, the freckles dusting her face more pronounced.

Her chocolate curls lay frizzed and messy on her shoulders. I admired that she didn't try to put much thought into her appearance other than the makeup. Her full, pouty lips were coloured as she dug her teeth into her bottom lip, staring out the window on her left, deep in thought. As the sudden and strange urge to kiss her ran through me, Pandora's face rang through my head. I winced.

When Pandora started acting up around me, I knew she must've had a crush on me. Always playing with the ends of her hair and occasionally blushing as she stared at me. I'd noticed some of Sirius and James' fan girls acting the same way, so a crush was the only thing that matched up.

My thoughts ran darker as I remembered when Pandora had asked me to Hogsmeade. I had been so grateful she even noticed me that I couldn't say no. She had been to incredibly amazing towards me, and I knew I would've felt like absolute shit if I had said no. Now, my timid affection was fading slightly. I think I mistook my 'crush' for deep gratitude and need for attention. I've started noticing Hermione more then Pandora. How she always avoided contact with James. She drinks tea after lunch and has coffee with breakfast because she's been studying all night. How her shoulders sag with the weight of her books, but she refuses to let anyone carry them for her.

Occasionally, she reaches up as though to fiddle with a necklace but drops her hand at the last moment.

Sometimes, she hides her emotions from Pandora and I before replacing them. Like she's trying to find the appropriate reaction, even though the giggle before was enough to convince us she was okay. I noticed how she looked at Dumbledore as though she'd like to throw butterbeer bottles at him. How she glanced over to Snape whenever she read the morning paper.

I snapped out of my recollection and cleared my throat. She jumped up, pulling her wand and aiming it at my head within a matter of seconds. I held my hand up in supplication as I raised a curious eyebrow. She sighed and put her wand back into her thigh holster.

"Sorry, you scared me." She said quietly, offering no explanation of her actions. I mentally rolled my eyes; girls were so bloody secretive.

"It's alright. So, what'd you wanna talk about?" I asked, making to slide down beside her until she raised her hand, stopping me. She got up and paced three times in front of a section of the stone wall. Just as I was about to ask what in gods name, she was doing, a door appeared. My eyes widened in shock. She let out a soft laugh as she pushed open the door. I walked in after her, taking in my new surroundings.

The walls were a painted a cloudy lavender, a white settee with a printed, floral black pattern in the centre of the room. A white wrought iron table sat in front of that, with a floral tea set on the flat surface. I gazed out of the bay window, shocked to see a large flower field with a flowing creek.

"Where are we? … Hermione?" I asked, spinning to face where I'd last seen her. She sat slumped in front of the door, silent tears coursing down her cheeks as she smiled sadly. She roughly wiped a hand across her face, her eyes still shining with unshed tears.

"My grand-mères tearoom in Toulouse. I used to visit her here every summer before her and my grandfather passed. It's my favourite place." She said, her eyes moving rapidly, focusing on different objects.

"We're in the Room of Requirement, also known as the Come and Go Room. It turns into whatever you happen to need in that moment. Some people in Hogwarts have used it before, not realizing what it actually was. Dumbledore himself actually-…" She paused, pressing the heels of her palms into her eyelids.

"I'm from 1996. I was born in 1979. I got here by Time Turner, and I know James' son." She said quickly, watching me warily. I choked on air, my eyes as wide as saucers. I coughed.

"I'm sorry, the potions Madame Pomfrey gave me must've made me loopy, because it sounded like you said you were from the future." I spluttered, blinking. Hermione laughed hollowly.

"Nope, you heard correctly. I commend you for your mostly calm reaction." She whispered, a tear running down her cheek. I desperately wanted to wipe it away. I felt my heart racing as I slid down beside her, stunned.

"So, you used a Time Turner to come roughly 20 years into the past, and you know James' kid. Son, you said." I corrected myself, my thoughts whirling around like a tornado. She nodded grimly. I wrapped an arm around her, pretending not notice how she stiffened.

"A friend of mine got rather mad… long story short, I was pretty badly injured, and my Time Turner shattered. Some of the time sands got into my wound and next thing a I know, Madame Pomfrey is 20 years, and nobody knows I exist." She explained, pausing for a breath.

"James' son and I have known each other since we were eleven. When I met him, he was a famous orphan without any knowledge of the Wizarding World, thanks to him being raised by abusive, magic hating Muggles. I'm hoping I can change that this time around." She whispered; her voice slightly choked. I rubbed her shoulder.

"So, James got killed. I know he would never willingly give up his child. What happened to everyone else?" I asked, knowing full well that she wouldn't be able to tell me. She shook her head sadly.

"Let's just say that surviving was a lot harder than you'd think." She replied. I nodded, frowning as I imagined what could've happened to James, Sirius, Peter and I.

"Did we all die well?" I asked childishly. She shook her head frustratedly.

"I can' t say much, but when I left, you and Peter were alive and well. But Potter and Black died hero's." She said. I felt tears well up at the thought of living without my two best mates.

"Okay… good to know, I guess. What was I like?" I asked curiously. She smiled weakly.

"Really, really brave and smart. You were the best Defence professor we've ever had." She giggled, resting her head on my shoulder.

"I was a Defence professor? Wow, laws for werewolves must've really changed!" I exclaimed excitedly. She sighed.

"No, just Dumbledore being a sneaky bastard." She whispered. My eyes widened as I tried to figure out how old Hermione actually was.

"Oh my god! I'm twenty years older than you! Hermione, doesn't it bother you that I'm almost forty?" I asked, horrified. She laughed, shaking her head.

"Remus, we're the same age now. You're such a worry wart!" She chuckled, burrowing deeper into my shoulder. She pressed her face into the crook of my neck; I could feel her smile. I blushed. We sat like this for a few minutes. I looked out the window, taking in the bobbing flowers and long grass. I imagined Hermione and I running to the creek, splashing each other and reading in the shade.

"Hermione, I really like you." I ventured, speaking softly. When she didn't respond, I looked down.

She had decided to fall asleep, a content smile on her lips. I smiled softly and mentally asked for a blanket. A pale blue flannel appeared, folded neatly at our feet. I picked up the blanket and Hermione, carrying both to the chaise lounge. I set Hermione down, carefully arranging her head on a pillow and placing the blanket on her. She scrunched up her nose adorably and cuddled into the blanket.

I chuckled and sat on the chair, curling my legs underneath me as another blanket appeared. I wrapped myself up in it and watched the water in the creek as it washed gently against the black rocks surrounding it.

I'm sorry! I just had to write something terribly cliché and predictable.