Chapter 84: Monday, October 12, 1981

"A thing is not necessarily true because a man dies for."

-Oscar Wilde

Hermione's leg bounced restlessly as her stomach twisted in knots. Her fingers curled the edges of the parchment in her hands. She stared at the neat, slanted writing of Albus Dumbledore until her vision blurred.

Remus,

You are needed in Banchory immediately. Our allies have turned against us. I have arranged a meeting for you with Hamish, the Portkey will take you to the den.

Regards,

Albus

She read the scribbled note at least a dozen times in the fifteen minutes since it arrived. Remus had just stepped into the shower when the owl knocked against the window, leaving a parcel and flying off without a treat. Hermione opened it, wondering who on earth would be sending a package without a name on it.

It was too close.

She had woken in the early morning hours on Friday, her neck slick with sweat and her heart racing. The thirty-first of October. That's what the monument had said. Lily and James had died on Halloween 1981. She has less than three weeks to convince Sirius to remain the Secret Keeper, nineteen days to try and convince Remus and Sirius that neither one of them were the spy and that it was, in fact, Peter.

Sirius was still gone on his assignment but was due to return any day now, according to the letter he sent James and Lily yesterday. But, now, Remus would be gone until at least after the full moon—given it was only a day away.

She ran through ideas in her mind, trying to find anything substantial to hold on to. She could go with Remus—given the marks on her thigh and neck, he wouldn't hurt her. But, that didn't necessarily mean that none of the other werewolves would leave her unharmed. And with the pack already known to have flipped sides, it didn't seem like a suitable option. Not to mention it was a moot point anyway—Remus would never allow her to accompany him into a den of werewolves during the full moon.

She could burn the letter, pretend it never even came. But, the likelihood of Dumbledore not showing up to retrieve Remus himself once he didn't receive a response was laughable. Dumbledore had more than once knocked on their door to ask Remus to do far too much.

And, Remus would always do it.

If she knew where Peter was, it would make everything much easier. Unfortunately, after asking around, it would seem that his assignment had been lock and key. Even Dumbledore had refused to respond to her inquiry on Peter's location. Although, she thought, that wasn't that surprising. Dumbledore had been clear that the timeline held precedence over everything and her sudden interest in Peter's whereabouts were sure to be a giveaway that she had knowledge she wanted to act on.

"All right, love?" Remus asked, opening the refrigerator and pulling out a pitcher of pumpkin juice.

"This came for you," Hermione said, holding out the letter. "It's from Dumbledore."

Remus paused momentarily and placed the pitcher back on the shelf before closing the door with a sigh. He crossed the kitchen and pulled the crumple-edged parchment from her hand, his eyes quickly scanning over it.

"Dammit," he muttered.

"You don't have to go."

"You know I do," he said.

She sighed, "I know."

"I doubt I'll be gone long—three weeks at most and that's only if everything goes our way. If Hamish has decided to side with Lord Voldemort, I doubt I'll be there much more than a week."

Hermione bit her lip and nodded, "Three weeks?"

"Tops."

She took a shaking breath, her throat burning with an acrid taste as her stomach flipped. "Okay."

"I've done this a hundred times. I'll be okay."

"I know you will be," Hermione said, trying to give a smile.

"When I get back, we can go into town for a bit, maybe get some sweets for Harry for Halloween."

Hermione nodded again, "Yeah."

Remus rounded the table and leaned over, pressing his lips to her forehead, "I'll see you soon."

He picked up the small box on the table and opened it, pulling out a rusted fork. Hermione leapt to her feet and grabbed his shirt, pulling him down for a slow kiss as the fork began to glow a bright blue.

"I love you, Remus."

"I love you, too. I'll be back soon."

In a blur of blinding cerulean light, Remus disappeared, leaving Hermione alone in their kitchen with nothing but the heaving of her breaths for company.

Several hours passed in a haze of notes and scribbled marks on the corners of wrinkled parchment. Hermione flew through the journals she had, documenting everything she could to prove that Peter was the spy. Time had always seemed to be slipping away from her, no matter how hard she tried to hang on to it, it always came down to racing seconds.

In an attempt to calm her nerves, she stripped herself clean of clothes, ring and locket from Remus, and stepped under the spray of the shower. The hot water pelted against her back, soaking through her mane of curls, making them heavy against her skin. She scrubbed at her scalp with the shampoo, closing her eyes as the suds faded down the drain. Three weeks. Remus had promised he would be no longer than three weeks. But, she didn't have three weeks to fix this. She had nineteen days. And without Remus here to talk to, to convince Sirius to remain Secret Keeper, she had no idea how to go about it.

Banchory.

He had gone to Banchory, and Hermione wasn't sure where the werewolves resided there, but it wasn't that big of a place. She could go after the full moon—perhaps, she thought, she should take some healing potions and food. Maybe convince them it's an act of good faith on the part of the Order and convince them to remain strong in their resistance of the Death Eaters and Lord Voldemort.

With a sigh of relief at the semblance of a plan, Hermione shut the water off and reached for her towel that hung on the hook. She dried herself and wrapped the plush terry cloth around her body, making her way into the bedroom to get dressed.

Once she was clothed and had attempted to comb her hair, she decided to finish her notes before putting together some items to take to the werewolves the day after next.

"James?"

Hermione stopped at the end of the hall, James' head of messy black hair peeking out from the arm of the sofa. He sat up and smiled, "Hey, Hermione."

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Come to invite you and Moony to dinner. Is he in bed?"

"No," Hermione moved to the armchair across from the sofa and folded her legs under herself as she sat. "He was sent out on an assignment."

"Oh," James said, frowning. "Sirius just got back. I was hoping we could all get together before someone got sent back out."

"Is he at your house, then?"

"Yeah. He's spending some time with Harry. Moody walked me over, thought he was gonna have a full conniption when I told him I wanted to come over and invite you both in person. Just wanted to stretch my legs a bit," James grumbled.

Hermione made a noncommittal sound as she looked down at the cushion, pulling on a string that had come loose from the stitching. They sat for a while, Hermione trying to work through the next few weeks in her head as James hummed a tune she didn't recognize.

"Hey, Hermione...are you all right?"

"Hm? Yeah, James. I'm fine."

"You don't look it."

Hermione sighed, twisting her fingers together in her lap, "Just...just a lot on my mind."

"You need an ear to listen?"

She smiled, "I'm not sure you can help. I don't even know what to do."

"Well, when the time is right, you'll figure out what to do. You always do."

Hermione's head shot up, her eyes landing on James' face. "What did you say?"

James returned her look with confusion, "When the time is right, you'll know what to do."

"Why did you say that?"

"Because it's true?"

"No," Hermione said. "No, those exact words. Why did you say those words?"

"Hermione, I don't think I understand… Did I say something wrong?"

Hermione's mind reeled as she stared at James. He had used that exact phrasing in the strange near-death dream she had of him when she was attacked by the Dementors. It was the phrase that rang in her head, bouncing around the walls of her mind, everytime she wanted to tell everyone about Peter. The time had never been right.

But, something told her the time was now.

She cleared her throat and sucked in a deep breath, attempting to calm her nerves. "James, I have to tell you something."

"Okay…"

"It's going to sound completely mental."

"You're already sounding a bit mental, if I'm being honest."

A watery laugh escaped her and she closed her eyes, trying to keep her chin from trembling. "James, you know where I came from, so you know that I have information about what happens to you all."

"Yeah, but you said you couldn't tell us."

"I had made an Unbreakable Vow before I came, preventing me from saying anything. I had an Occlumens put up walls in my mind to hide a lot of information from myself. But, I've been working to break them down."

"Why?"

"I couldn't stand not knowing," Hermione whispered. "I wanted to know what happened and then I almost died and the vow went away with the curse."

"I know."

"I've been getting a flood of memories for well over a year now, a lot of them didn't make sense—at least, not at first. But I...I know who the spy is."

James' eyes went wide and he leaned forward, pressing his elbows onto his thighs. "You do?"

"It's Peter."

James' mouth dropped open and he sat completely still. Finally, he began to shake his head. "No. No, that doesn't make sense. I know you don't particularly care for Peter, it's clear to anyone in a room with the pair of you, but Peter is our friend, Hermione. He wouldn't—"

"James, I'm sorry. But, it's Peter. He's been gathering information for Merlin knows how long. His assignments, his trips home… have you ever thought to ask him about his mum?"

"Yeah, of course I have!"

"And his answers are always the same, aren't they? Never very detailed."

"Well, his mum hasn't changed much, has she?"

"James, he's not going to see his mum for weeks at a time. He's working with Lord Voldemort."

James flinched at the sound of the name. It was the first time she had ever seen him react to it, and her heart caught in her throat. Still, she pushed on.

"I don't have a pensieve, so I can't show you—"

"Then tell me," he said. "Every detail. What do you know?"

Hermione told James everything she could remember. She told him about how she met Harry, and the things Harry had dealt with leading up to their third year. And she told him of Remus becoming their Defence Professor and Sirius escaping prison, the conversations that took place in the Shrieking Shack the night they discovered Scabbers was actually Peter.

She recanted the memory of visiting Godric's Hollow over Christmas with Harry, reciting the sign on the front of their home. She explained to James about the Horcruxes and how Harry had vanquished Voldemort as a baby. She cried nearly the entire time, explaining every detail she could recall, showing him her journal, of every passage she had written down when she remembered something that had been buried before her arrival.

Finally, when she finished, James sat in silence. His glasses laid on the table before him, his head held in his hands as he pressed the heel of his palms into his eyes.

"You have to go back," he whispered, finally looking up at her.

"What?"

"You can't stay here, Hermione."

"James, I can save you. I know about all of the Horcruxes he's made thus far, I know exactly when he plans to come here. All we have to do is make sure that Sirius remains the Secret Keeper. Harry deserves a good life! You don't understand the hell that Vernon and Petunia put him through, the things he had to deal with once he came to the Wizarding World. You and Lily deserve to live and see your son grow up!"

"And what about you? What will happen if you just...cease to exist? You're trying to stop something from happening that has to happen to end this!"

"But, I-I know about the Horcruxes now…" Hermione murmured, her voice cracking in her throat.

"Where are the Horcruxes at?" James asked.

"I know what they are," Hermione said. "I don't know when they were moved to the locations we found them in. But, that doesn't matter! We can—"

"It does matter. He's killing us left and right. Our allies are turning on us, our numbers are falling, our people are being killed. How much longer will we last if he isn't banished, soon?"

"You're not understanding! You have to die James. You and Lily both have to die. That's the only way Harry will remain alive once Voldemort casts the Killing Curse. It's Lily's sacrifice that saves him, her bond willinging severed from life to save her son. You know now, it has to be done selflessly for it—"

"Is he happy?"

Hermione stopped talking for a moment, her mouth opening and closing. "Who?"

"Harry. In your time, when you knew him, was he happy? Was he a good man?"

Hermione felt tears rush past the rim of her eyes and swiped at them, "Relatively." James arched an eyebrow in question at her and she sighed. "He's amazing, James. He's so much like you, looks exactly like you. And, he's incredibly bright, when he wants to be."

James laughed at that and Hermione continued, "He loves fiercely and without doubt. And, he's an incredible leader, always knows what to do when no one else can figure it out."

He gave a sad, tight-lipped smile, "And he's loved, cared for? You care for him?"

"More than anyone."

James nodded and pat the tops of his thighs twice, "It's settled, then."

"What is?"

"I won't tell Lily, I won't raise my wand to him. I will lay down and die if it means this will end, if it means Harry has a fighting chance."

"No. No. We can stop this!"

"You know we can't. We're losing, Hermione. You know, I know, hell, I'm fairly certain even Dumbledore knows it. If Voldemort wants Harry, he's going to find him. If I have to die to keep my son alive, I will gladly lay down my life."

"You're dying to end a war that isn't solely on your shoulders!" Hermione cried, her eyes burning with tears. She had this fight too many times with Harry, it still hurt to think of him walking into the Forbidden Forest, ready to die to save everyone. She couldn't stand by and watch James do it, too.

"Hermione, there are things worth dying for and there are things worse than death. If Voldemort remains in power any longer than he already has, we will only see what the worst will bring. You have to know that."

"Voldemort isn't the only one with these ideals!"

"I know that. But, you said yourself that things remained stagnant for over a decade after he disappeared. And I won't risk him gaining more power than he already has."

"What about Harry?"

The right side of his mouth lifted in a lopsided smile, so reminiscent of his son, it hurt. "Love him for us. Tell him how much his mother adored him. Tell him how afraid I was to fuck everything up. Go back to him, and tell him that I'm sorry."

"I can't leave Remus here, alone," she said, miserably.

"Remus understands what must be done for the greater good. He'll be okay."

"I won't leave him, then."

"It's your decision, of course." James said, rising to his feet. "I'm going to use the loo and freshen up before I go home. I don't want Lily to see I've been crying. Dinner is at five, if you want to come."

A strangled sob came from Hermione's throat the second James left the room. She cried into her hands, feeling completely hopeless. If she couldn't save James and Lily, she had done all of this for nothing. She had no answers to the curse that brought her here, had barely unravelled half the others in the book, and James and Lily would still die—leaving Harry to live the next ten years of his life knowing nothing but abuse and neglect.

When James emerged from the hallway, he stood in front of her and grabbed her hands, pulling her up from the chair. He wrapped her in a tight hug and she cried hard into his shirt.

"Messing with time is dangerous, and somethings can't be stopped," he whispered.

"But, I can stop this. I want you to see him grow up."

"It doesn't always work out the way we want it to."

"But, it can."

James kissed the top of her head and released her from the embrace, "It's not all on your shoulders, either."

.

.

a/n: Oof.