Chapter 83: Thursday, October 8, 1981
"He who does not trust enough will not be trusted."
-Lao Tzu
Hermione sank into the chair between Remus and Lily, across from Arthur and Frank. Alice had stayed behind at James and Lily's to watch Neville and Harry while Ted Tonks manned the door. Dumbledore had sent a letter to James asking them both to be at the meeting this week, preferably without Harry, to discuss the options to offer protection.
And when Hermione brought up her meeting with Dumbledore to Remus, he was furious.
They had been arguing on and off for a few days now, and the tension in the room was thick. She understood that he wanted her protected, that she seemed insane for not wanting to follow Dumbledore's advice and go into hiding, but Hermione had been on the run once before and she wouldn't do it again. She had spent too long in her own time running from people who wanted her captured or dead, and she didn't fancy the idea of doing it in this timeline, too.
"No Sirius?" Frank asked, looking around at the small group surrounding the cramped table.
"He's on an assignment," Hermione mumbled, her eyes not leaving the side of Remus' face.
It was less than a week until the full moon, and he looked more exhausted than usual at this time. She assumed it was probably stress from their ongoing quarrel, but the dark rings under his eyes and the unshaven shadow lining his jaw only added to the sickly pallor.
"Been gone awhile now, hasn't he?" Arthur asked.
"Yeah, a bit." Lily said, "We're hoping he'll be home soon. I know Harry is missing him dearly."
Remus snorted, and covered it with a cough that no one questioned. Hermione's brows furrowed and she bit the inside of her cheek, a hand resting on Remus' arm. She could feel him tense beneath her touch, a slight flinch jostling his shoulder. Hermione sighed and dropped her hand back into her own lap, his irritation palpable.
"Are you—"
"I'm fine," Remus grumbled, cutting off her question.
"Okay," Hermione whispered, unconvinced.
Moody and Dumbledore entered the room seconds apart and the idle chatter ceased as Moody slammed himself into a chair, his wooden leg knocking hard against the floor.
"Sturgis Podmore has been tortured," Moody growled, his electric blue eye whizzing around wildly in its holster. "He was captured outside of Diagon Alley. Constant Vigilance! We can't afford to slip anymore! We have lost too many people to things that could have been prevented!"
Hermione felt her stomach roll. She wished that constant vigilance would be enough to save the rest of them, but she knew that no matter how vigilant she had been in her time, it hadn't always helped them. Death Eaters had a way of circumventing vigilance.
"There's one more matter at hand we must address," Dumbledore said, after Moody had given the details of Surgis' capture. "Hermione, have you brought the letter with you?"
Remus' jaw tightened as Hermione shifted her weight, leaning toward him, to pull the letter from her back pocket. "Yes, sir. I have."
"If you would pass it around, so that everyone can see it."
Hermione sighed and handed it to Lily, who passed it to James, and so on. Lily's eyes were wide and bright as she looked up from the slanted writing and she bit into her lip, stopping the tremble of her chin.
"What does this mean?" Frank asked.
"The Dark Lord's followers have been making a habit of finding the location of muggleborns or any person who openly opposes them," Dumbledore began.
"They're forcing them into the open?" Arthur asked, looking horrified.
"Indeed," Dumbeldore said. "This letter was sent to Hermione eleven days ago."
"You didn't tell us?" Lily asked.
"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered. "I didn't want to worry you."
"So you found it who it was from then?" James asked.
Hermione nodded, "I have a good idea, anyway."
"So they sent you a letter to scare you out into the open but—hang on. If-if they know where Hermione lives…" James trailed off, his eyes lifting to look at Dumbledore.
"Therein lies the problem at hand," Dumbledore said.
"We left Harry with Alice!" Lily said, staring at Dumbledore. "He could—"
"They're trying to run me out of my house," Hermione interrupted. "They aren't going to strike while I'm not home. And as it stands, they don't know you live two doors down...yet."
"I would like to place a Fidelius Charm over both of your homes," Dumbledore said.
"A Fidelius?" Frank asked. "That's...that's intense magic, isn't it?"
"It is. However, I believe it to be the best option at this time. It will hide you completely," Dumbledore said, turning now to speak to James and Lily. "Your home will be unplottable, hidden completely from sight by muggle and wizard alike. It will be completely soundproof, there will no longer be the possibility of an unwanted intruder apparating onto the property."
"How does it work?" Lily asked.
"A Secret Keeper," Remus muttered.
"A Secret Keeper," Dumbledore echoed, a small smile on his lips as he regarded Remus for a moment before turning his eyes back to Lily. "Someone you trust above all others to hold the secret for you. They will be the only person who is able to relay your location to another. Whoever is told the secret by the Secret Keeper, will not have the ability to speak or write the information. It will be as if the information disappears completely from their head until called upon when approaching your location."
"We're not leaving our house," James said, firm. "I'm not uprooting my child so that we can cast this insane curse on some rundown shack."
"That won't be necessary, I assure you. The charm can be performed on your home. I implore you to think very carefully about who you would like to keep your secret. It must be someone you trust completely, absolutely no doubt in your mind about their motives and character."
"Sirius," James said, instantly. He spared a sheepish glance at Remus. "Sorry, Moony."
"I expected as much," Remus said, his words as stiff as the muscles in his neck.
"You're sure?" Frank murmured, looking down at his fingers as he picked at a spot on his trousers.
"Of course, I'm sure. Aren't we Lils?"
"Absolutely," Lily said. "Sirius would never do anything to harm us, and especially not Harry. He's like our brother."
"It's just…" Frank trailed off, looking up from his hands but not meeting anyone's eyes. "It's clear we have a-a spy—"
"And you think that's Sirius?" James asked, his voice shaking with incredulity.
"No, no. I didn't...he's not here, is he? He's been gone for weeks on what should have only taken a fortnight, tops. It's just…"
"Suspicious," Moody grumbled.
"Sirius is not the spy," James growled. "He's done more for us than half of the Order could do! Look at who he is, where he's come from! You think he'd get out of that hell just to run back to it when things got hard? No! He's a fighter and always has been!"
"James is right," Lily said. "Sirius hated his family, hated what they did to his brother and his cousins. He would never turn his back on us to support them. He wouldn't do that to Harry."
Hermione listened as Frank, Moody, and Kingsley began to question Sirius' motives. James was vehemently denying every claim. By the time he began shouting at the men, Hermione couldn't help but notice that Remus had yet to say a word. He hadn't defended Sirius once, hadn't taken side with James and Lily. He remained stoic and blank as his eyes bounced back and forth between the arguing adults.
To anyone else, she was sure Remus must look as if he were taking in the situation at hand. But, she knew him too well. She knew without a doubt, he believed that Sirius was somehow involved with the Death Eaters, and that the information of the safehouse whereabouts were being passed along by him.
Afterall, he was one of three people who knew every location of every Order safehouse.
Dumbledore and Peter being the other two.
"It's not Sirius," Hermione finally said. "James has a point. He hated his family too much to become them."
"We all know blood isn't always thicker," Moody said. "But, we can't deny that Black in the sights of the Death Eaters. He's had far too much fun toying with Bellatrix and the rest of the lot. He's a danger to us all, even if he isn't the spy."
"He isn't." James said, "We'll prove it when we make him our Secret Keeper."
Hermione's chest tightened at the conviction in James' voice. She now knew that Sirius would insist they change the Secret Keeper to Peter, and now she had to make sure that he didn't do that. No matter what the cost was, Peter absolutely could not be the one given the information.
The door slammed behind Remus and Hermione jumped, startled by the sound. He shoved past her and made his way into the kitchen, clanging pots together as he searched for the old kettle in the cabinet. Hermione sighed and toed off her trainers before slipping past the living room and into the kitchen, she placed her hand on Remus' back, between his shoulders, and felt him still.
"You didn't say anything," she whispered.
"What are you talking about?"
"When they were accusing Sirius. You didn't speak on it."
"Nothing to speak on."
"Isn't there?"
He tapped the hob with his wand and turned around to face her, "No."
"Sirius isn't the spy, you know that, don't you?"
"I'm sure he'd think the same of me."
"You truly believe he would do that?" Hermione asked, an eyebrow raised.
Remus deflated with a sigh and shoved a hand through his hair. "I don't know! I don't know what to believe anymore."
"Do you trust me?"
"What does that have to do with anything?" He asked.
"Just answer it."
"Of course I do!"
"Then why don't you trust my judgement here?"
"Because," Remus turned back to the kettle as it began to whine, pulling it from the burner and flicking his wand again to cut the heat. He sidestepped, reaching up to the cabinets above the sink to pull down two mugs. "You're refusing to do something that could save your life. It's ignorant and reckless."
"I'm not stupid," Hermione said.
"You're acting like it."
Hermione sucked her teeth and nodded, the all too common wave of frustration anytime this subject was breached, pulled through her again. "So, I'm stupid because I don't want to limit myself to the confines of my house?"
"No," Remus said. "You're acting stupid because you think it's okay to force James and Lily into their home but you refuse to take your own advice."
"I'm not refusing to take my own advice, but my life isn't at stake, here!"
"They sent you a letter, Hermione. You've said it yourself! Snape said that every person who has received a warning had been captured or killed."
"I need to leave to continue my research."
"You can work out the formulas at the table, you do it all the time."
"Without Snape, it takes twice as long and—"
"So, tell him the damn location!" Remus shouted. "But, if you think for one second you're not in danger too, then you're being purposely dense!"
Hermione clenched her teeth and drew in a deep breath through her nose. "I know the dangers, Remus."
"Then let Dumbledore protect you!" Remus begged, "Please! There's only so much I can do when I'm being sent out constantly, and I know you're fucking brilliant and exceptionally good at dueling, but if they send anyone worth their salt...Hermione, I'll never forgive myself if something happens to you."
The desperate look on Remus' face and the hitch in his voice made her chest ache. She nodded, reaching out to place a palm against his chest, his heartbeat thundering beneath her hand. "Okay," she whispered. "I'll think about it more and weigh my options. I'm not promising you that I'll do it, but I'll put more thought into it."
"I just want you to be safe."
She stepped closer to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing the side of her face in the spot her palm had just been on his chest. She breathed in deeply, letting the scent of spiced cologne and woodsy soap fill her nostrils. She felt her own breath even out, the tension leaving her shoulders as Remus' arms encircled her, pulling her closer to him.
"I love you," she whispered. "But, I don't want to live in fear my entire life."
Remus let out a dry laugh, "You're hugging a Dark Creature, love."
Hermione rolled her eyes and pulled away so that she could push up on her toes and plant a kiss on the underside of his jaw. "Oh yes, a Dark Creature who wears argyle socks and bakes delicate pastries. You'll forgive me if I don't run away screaming."
"You should," Remus said, his eyes flashing with gold as his lips upturned to a mischievous smile. "I can be quite scary."
"The only time you're scary is when you haven't had chocolate in more than three days."
Remus laughed and leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers.
As they laid in bed that night, Hermione found herself staring up at the ceiling while shadows danced around them from the silver light peeking in through the windows. She couldn't sleep, and it was becoming frustrating. She turned onto her side, smiling to herself as Remus tugged her into his chest, his slow breath puffing evenly against the back of her neck. He was terrified, she could tell. Although, she wasn't sure if he'd ever willingly admit that it wasn't just her he was afraid of losing. He'd lost so many people already, they all had. And, she knew the thought of losing anyone else was always looming over them.
The fact that he wasn't as trusting as Sirius as he once was had become a concern. It was that mistrust that had led to Peter becoming the Secret Keeper and she knew she had to stop that from happening at any cost.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
The street was silent, covered in a thick layer of fluffy white snow. Hermione pulled her hat down over her ears, looking over her shoulder to be sure they hadn't been followed. The snow crunched beneath her boots, the sound almost maddening in the still of the night. Harry wrapped his hand around hers, tugging her further along the street.
It was a small, quiet town, in all respects. There were a few lights dotting the houses and a little church stood, old and weathered, near a graveyard just off the center of the town. In the middle of the square stood a large, square statue—a war memorial, by the looks of it.
"I think it's Christmas Eve," Hermione whispered, the sound of muffled hymns floating to her ears from inside the church. The stained glass windows spilled lights of red, green, and blue against the sparkling ground.
"Happy Christmas, Hermione." Harry said, a half-hearted smile pasted on his face.
Hermione squeezed his hand and followed him closer to the square. As they approached, the large block statue seemed to shift and Hermione's breath caught in her throat.
"Harry, look!" She said, pointing at the statue.
Harry stopped in his tracks, causing her feet to slip a bit in the slush. He grasped her elbow to keep her from falling and when she had steadied herself, they continued toward the statue. Where the block filled with the etchings of names had been, now stood a statue of a man with glasses and messy hair who looked exactly like Harry. A woman next to him, with a kind face and a pretty smile and a baby in her arms. Their heads were covered in a thick cap of snow and Harry stiffened as his gaze fell upon the stone version of Lily and James.
"They gave them a memorial statue," Harry whispered, dropping Hermione's hand.
Hermione stood in silence as Harry approached the stone, watching as puffs of air left her best friend's lips to disappear against the cold, winter night. After several minutes, he turned back to her and cleared his throat.
"I want to see the house."
Hermione nodded, "Okay."
They stepped forward and looked around. Just as Hermione began to wonder if there had been a charm put on the house to hide it from view, it materialized before them.
It was in complete ruins.
Ivy, thick and frozen, had grown over the front of the house, breaking into the windows and claiming the structure as its own. The front door had been blown open and hung from its hinges and the windows in the front left of the house were missing, blown out by the backfire of the killing curse. The roof was caved in, shingles littering the ground, sticking up from the blanket of snow.
"There's a plaque," Hermione said, pointing to the wood on the fencing.
Harry moved to brush the snow from it, his fingers lingering against it as he read, "On this spot, on the night of 31 October 1981, Lily and James Potter lost their lives. Their son, Harry, remains the only wizard to ever have survived the Killing Curse. This house, invisible to Muggles, has been left in its ruined state as a monument to the Potters and as a reminder of the violence that tore apart their family."
Harry wiped at his eyes and Hermione turned away from him, allowing him the privacy to take in the home he would have grown up in, had things been different. She looked down at the gold letters on the sign and saw the markings around it.
'Good luck, Harry, wherever you are!' 'If you read this Harry, we're all behind you!'
Part of her was touched that so many people had come in hopes of leaving well wishes to Harry and the mission they were on. No one knew, of course, the details that Dumbledore had given him. Hermione sometimes even doubted whether she knew everything, but to see that so many people knew that Harry was still fighting for them warmed her.
The other part of her was enraged that people would deface such a precious memorial. That they would come to a place where Harry would need to grieve and mark it up with poor handwriting and bad spelling. She offered to clean it from the memorial, and Harry denied it. He said he liked that it comforted others to come here, to leave their words of encouragement.
She knew he took no comfort in being here. She could tell by the thickness of his voice and the glassiness of his eyes. He was in pain, earth-shattering pain, but even still, he nodded once when she suggested they move along and didn't give the house a backward glance.
.
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a/n: Sorry for such a late update today. It's been a really crazy couple of weeks and today was nuts. But, here you go! I hope you liked it! 3
