TW: Torture.
Classes that morning sounded terrible. Remus was in most of them. And she was tired. So so tired. Plus, Regulus had a free period that morning.
So she cut class.
Yes, she, Hermione Gra-Belanger, cut class and headed down to the library after breakfast. Regulus was there, of course, sitting with Lucius and Narcissa in their seat near the window.
Hermione cast a furtive glance around. The library was empty. Completely silent aside from the faint flutter of books on the shelves. Not even Madam Pince was here yet.
She strode over to their table. "Narcissa, Malfoy," she greeted a touch awkwardly. Narcissa offered her a secret smile, but Lucius' gaze darted around just as Hermione's had. She watched as he came to the same conclusion she had.
"Belanger," he greeted in a low, dangerous voice. "We had a deal."
Hermione kept her face blank. "You offered me information, Malfoy. I made no promise to you that night." She glanced at Regulus. "But I have a plan."
Regulus cocked one eyebrow with suppressed interest, and Malfoy's dark expression lightened slightly. "A good one?"
"A dangerous one," Hermione said, her eyes not leaving Regulus'.
Regulus caught on immediately. "No. No way, New Girl. I refused before and I refuse now."
Hermione smiled sweetly at Narcissa and Lucius. "Reg and I need to talk," she said lightly. "Do you mind if I steal him away for a while?"
Narcissa was glancing from face to face, quietly trying to figure out what was going on as Lucius smirked a smirk that contained the barest hint of relief and gratitude. "Narcissa and I were just leaving," he said obligingly, rising to his feet. "He's all yours."
Narcissa hesitated. Lucius and Hermione had been playing at a feud in the corridors, but here they had an understanding. The information was beginning to settle into place in her mind. She turned to Hermione. "I heard you and Remus had a fight."
"Of course you did," Hermione said, with a hint of amusement.
"Are you alright?"
Hermione was momentarily taken aback by the gesture, and Narcissa rolled her eyes. "Point to me," She smirked. "I'm only kidding, Hermione, relax." The smirk dropped. "I know I'm not supposed to care, but I saw the way you two were at breakfast. He didn't so much as glance in your direction - after a fight on Valentine's!" Her elegant features flooded with disapproval. "What an utter barbarian."
A laugh bubbled out of Hermione's mouth. "Barbarian?" The boys didn't look amused. They looked vaguely concerned too, and she remembered how seriously some purebloods took courting. She reined in her amusement. "I… don't know what's going to happen," she admitted. "But if he can't support me in what I have to do to keep the people I care about safe, then I understand… but I don't need that in my life."
It was the most vulnerable she'd ever before been in front of Slytherins, and she was shocked when Narcissa reached out and gripped her hand. "You go, girl," she smiled.
"So this is about Regulus?" Lucius surmised quietly.
Hermione sighed. "Sort of."
A feral look slid over Lucius' features, and somehow, it didn't remind Hermione at all of the Lucius Malfoy she'd encountered in the Department of Mysteries. There was mischief in it, feeling. "I could hex him for you," he said slyly, almost eagerly. "Do you want me to hex him for you?"
Hermione laughed, and Narcissa rolled her eyes. "Come along, love," Narcissa said, linking her arm through Lucius'. "There's no need for anything so overt."
Hermione looked worriedly from Regulus' frowning face, to Lucius and Narcissa's backs as the strode toward the doors, their faces close together in whispered conversation.
"No!" she called after them. "No I don't! No overt hexing. No covert payback! No… Slytherining!"
The two merely chuckled - chuckled - and continued on their way.
Hermione looked at Regulus. "They wouldn't. Would they?"
Regulus smirked slyly at her and said nothing.
"Bloody Slytherins," she mumbled. Though a part of her was feeling far more pleased and flattered than she ought to. She piled Regulus' books into his bag.
"What are you doing, New Girl?"
"I'm taking you to the Room of Requirement."
Once the magical room's door was firmly shut behind her, Hermione settled into a couch. The room was set up like her living room at home - her home with Sirius and James. It was comfortable, and there was a fire in the fireplace. She indicated that Regulus could sit.
He didn't ask any questions about the room. Instead, he obliged her by taking a seat, and sitting as stiffly as humanly possible, before beginning his argument. "I'm not taking you to the Dark Lord, New Girl," he said firmly. "You don't understand what—"
"Will he kill me?"
Regulus's frustrated growl reminded her a great deal of Sirius, and she wondered, suddenly, what his Patronus would be. "As I've assured you many times, while it's very unlikely the Dark Lord will kill you and jeopardize the secrecy of my position, my position at the school is easily replaced. And, I promise you, the Dark Lord can do far worse things than kill you."
"Like the things he's done to you?" Hermione argued back. "Like the way you've suffered to protect me? Like the way he tortured you almost to the point of death over Christmas?"
Regulus' hands clenched in fists. He rarely let much emotion out, and she knew that the stress of everything must be getting to him. "Would you care to make all that have been for nothing then? Make the sacrifices I made for you all in vain?"
Hermione looked at him seriously, and with as much heart as she could, she said, "No, I would care to do the same for you."
He froze.
"In a heartbeat," she promised. "But that's not the only reason to do this, Reg. You told me he's going to honour you. Maybe like Lucius and Bellatrix, and if he does, if he gives you something… we need it. Desperately."
He eased back into his seat, his mind slipping over the information. "So this isn't really about me, at all," he concluded. And the conclusion seemed to comfort him.
Maybe Hermione should have let him hold to that comfort, but her outrage at the statement was too strong. "I bloody well hope you don't really believe that since I've been prepared to do this to save you from the very bloody beginning!" she snapped. "I offered, right from the start, when you refused to leave the Death Eaters, when you refused to go into hiding. This isn't some manipulation, you cretin. I care about you."
His hand slid over his face. "You're right. I know that. I'm sorry." His hand dropped, and a smirk replaced it. "Self-sacrificing idiot."
"Back atcha."
He smiled for a flicker of a second, and then his serious face was back. "You don't know what you're asking though, New Girl. I know you can Occlude well enough to block the Headmaster, but the Headmaster isn't torturing you while he tries to get inside your mind. The Headmaster isn't… He's not…"
"As bloody terrifying and evil as Tom fucking Riddle?" Hermione supplied.
"Yeah, that."
"So help me."
His eyes widened at the implications. "You want me to—"
Hermione's expression was solemn. She knew she was asking something horrific of him, and it broke her heart. But it was necessary, and she wasn't going to back down. "I need to practice," she said with quiet force. "I need to know I can do this and keep our secrets safe. You. The Order. Me. I need you to help me practice, Regulus."
"I'm not going to fucking torture you, Hermione!"
Her heart wobbled slightly at the hint of a plea in his voice. But her conviction couldn't waver. "It could be the difference between getting Tom in the next year, and getting him maybe never," she said firmly. "If this honour is what I think it is, Reg, we need it. Desperately. Before it's out of reach."
He stared at her for a long time, and into the fire for even longer. They sat there in silence, as the clock ticked away minute after minute. Together, but very much apart. The weight of the decision isolating them.
Finally, with a perfectly blank expression on his face, he turned from the fire and said a hollow, "Fine."
Relief and regret flooded her. "Okay. How do we do this?"
That evening they returned to the Room of Requirement.
"Alright," he said curtly. "I'll start off with a weaker version of the curse. For now. We're not going to cast this all night, or it will break you, even at a low dose, but we can get more practice in this way."
Hermione swallowed thickly and nodded. "And we'll up it later on?"
"If you're insane enough to keep at it till then," he said darkly.
Hermione nodded again. "Okay, let's do it."
He gripped his wand tightly, but didn't raise it. "Your most vulnerable moment is right after the pain stops. Under the Cruciatus, your mind is just a wall of pain. It's hard for a Legilimens to pick up on anything clearly through it. As soon as it lets up, that's when he'll slip in. He's a master. He can sift through your thoughts in moments. And once he's in, he's hard to shake loose. Dumbledore might be a master Legilimens, too. But he's not evil. The way that evil grips your mind... It's different. Don't expect this to feel the same. At all. If he gets in, you're fucked. So don't let him in. Your shields have to be automatic. Your default state.
"That means more than just practicing here. It means you need to start practicing having them up always. Every second of every day. You wake up in the morning, Occlude. You notice they've dropped when you're alone in the shower, get them back up. For extra incentive, I'll test you. Constantly. Every time I see you in the halls. I will be your new favourite stalker."
"Aw. Lucius will be so jealous."
He frowned at her, and it hit her - he wasn't just filled with shame over doing this, he was scared for her. "I'm taking this seriously, Reg, I promise. I can do this."
But she wasn't sure that was true. Constant Vigilance was not her strong point. Her mind, of course, was relatively disciplined - more and more so every day. But she was still prone to getting lost in thought if the right thought came along. If Tom was really as much better than Albus, if she wouldn't be able to throw him out, maybe this was the wrong call. What secrets might he glean from her mind if he got through? What if they missed something? What if he found out she was from the-
She felt Regulus press against the edges of her mind, and slide right off.
"Good," he said. "Once you're more consistent, we could work on hiding your Occlumency. That's extremely advanced though, so I doubt we'll get there before Easter."
Hermione internalized the words as a challenge - despite knowing she was being reverse psychology-d. "I'll get there."
"Okay, keep up your shields then, and let's do this." He took a deep breath. "Crucio."
The night was awful. When they were done, they lay side-by-side on the floor.
"I feel sick," Regulus confessed, reluctantly, in barely a whisper, as if the words dragged themselves out of him against his will.
"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered through the pain, her voice trembling with the shaking of her muscles. It hadn't been quite as bad as when Peter crucio'd her at Halloween, but after an hour and a half of cycling through the pain, her body was done.
Regulus scoffed. "This is my fault, New Girl. Every single moment of it. I joined the Death Eaters. I got this mission. I stayed. I wanted to play spy and redeem myself - as if that's even a possibility after everything I—"
Hermione forced her arm to reach out and punch him. "Shut up, Slytherin. This is no one's fault. It's just life. I'm sorry this hurts you," she said sincerely. "It's awful. Everything about it. And I'm glad we're doing it."
"You're the weirdest Gryffindor-Slytherin I've ever met," he said after a moment.
Hermione laughed, and it hurt like hell. "I'm the only Gryffindor-Slytherin you've ever met."
"That's accurate."
They met the next day at the same time. And the day after that. And the day after that. Until Hermione could keep her shield up through his mild version of the Cruciatus. He still sometimes caught her off-guard in the halls, but after a week of practice, she was getting better.
Remus still hadn't approached her. And she still hadn't approached him.
And then he did.
Hermione was walking toward the entrance to the Common Room when he called after her. "Hermione, can we talk?"
She glanced at the time and sighed. "Remus, I just… I don't have time for this right now. I have to be somewhere."
"Yeah, I know," he said, approaching her. "I won't keep you, I just… Just five minutes?"
"... Okay."
He led her quickly up to his room and shut the door behind them.
"I'm really sorry about Valentine's Day, Hermione," he said in a rush. "I went about the whole thing wrong. I know it's not an excuse, but I'd really like to explain, if you're open to listening…"
He looked genuinely distressed, and he sounded like normal Remus. The full moon was just a couple of days away, and he looked tired. Tired and sad. There was a look in his eyes that she hadn't seen before. Not in this time.
Hermione nodded slowly. "I'm listening."
"I got… I got a letter while you were with the Headmaster that day. From my dad. It's… it's my mum. She's… Hermione, she's sick."
Hermione's heart pounded in her chest. She felt horrifically awful. "Remus, I'm so sorry." She stepped forward and pulled him into her arms.
"No, I'm sorry, Hermione. I was feeling… I was feeling angry and sad and frustrated… and I just… I think I was trying to feel like I had control over something. Over my life. Over the things in it. Over you. And that wasn't fair. And I'm so sorry."
Hermione pressed her lips gently and briefly to his. "Tell me," she said softly.
"It's… cancer. The healers say they caught it too late. They said she could try Muggle therapies, but they aren't very effective and they're…"
"Awful," Hermione whispered. "They're awful." In the future they would be awful, but now, in the 70's, they were… unbearable. Her heart was breaking, and she wished she'd come to him before now. Wished he hadn't been alone with this all week. Wished she'd sucked up her pride instead of waiting for him to suck up his. "They can't do anything?"
Remus shrugged, but there were unshed tears in his eyes. "I'm going home for a few weeks after the full moon. Dad said he would explain everything better then. But I guess, they can give her more time, and that's it. Wizards don't seem to understand cancer any better than Muggles do, I guess."
"Oh, Remus. I'm so sorry." She hesitated, lacing her fingers through his. "How long?"
The tears fell now, spilling down his cheeks and into her hair. "Months, maybe. If we're lucky, a year."
Hermione didn't know what to say as she held Remus in his pain. He sniffled and pulled away, swiping at his eyes. "You should go," he said. "You have to go do whatever you're doing."
Hermione hesitated. She could tell Regulus she couldn't come. Just this once. It was tempting, oh-so-tempting, to skip just this one night of being subjected to an hour plus of pain.
Remus brushed the hair back from her face. "You just found out, Hermione. Not me. I've already known for almost a week. I'm… I'm okay. You should go; I can tell it's something important."
Still Hermione hesitated. She should be with him. And then she caught herself. This was the exact sort of thing she'd feared in entering into this relationship - getting so swept up in Remus that she put the war second. She needed to train her mind. Every chance she had. She couldn't fail this mission. Hermione met Remus' gaze, trying to penetrate through the façade. "You're sure? If you need me, I'm here."
He pulled her into a kiss. A kiss that communicated, in its fleeting duration, a tide of relief and need and love. "Go," he said firmly. "I'll still need you when you come back."
Hermione tensed, for a fraction of a second. When she got back from her session with Regulus, she would be in pain. A lot. They were upping the intensity tonight, and she was dreading it with every fiber of her being. Remus would know. He would smell the pain on her. She would have to tell him tonight. After his confession, tonight wouldn't end up being about him. It would be about her. Her mind latched onto the thought - I should stay - but she shook it away. "Okay," she said with a warm smile, a smile that tried its best to convey relief and compassion and love. "I won't be too long."
—
Regulus was sitting on the couch in the Room of Requirement when she arrived. The only piece of furniture in the otherwise barren stone room. He was sullen, as he had been all week. Falling deeper and deeper into himself, his shame, his anger. He resented her for every moment of this, and Hermione knew he was torturing himself almost as much as the Cruciatus tortured her.
"Hey," she said awkwardly. "How was your day?"
"Brilliant," he snarked, rising to his feet. "You're sure you're up for this?"
Hermione nodded even as everything inside her screamed no.
"Okay, here we go then. Crucio."
Hermione braced herself for the pain, despite plenty of experience with the fact that it was impossible, really, to prepare your body for the kind of torture the Cruciatus curse had to offer. And then the flash of red collided with her chest and she was on fire. She could hear screaming, distant, far away, the sound was dimmed, shut out by the roar of agony inside her. There was no thought in this place of pain and fire. Her veins were shards of razor blades jerking and seizing beneath her skin. Her heart sending pain jagging through her body. Her lungs heaving it in.
And then it was over. The ceiling swam into focus. Her clothing was sandpaper on her skin.
I can't do this. I can't do this. I can't do this.
Someone plunged into her unprotected mind, and she had barely had time to remember that it was only Regulus, that she was safe, when he went reeling back out.
He'd heard her thoughts. She could tell by the fury on his face. The way he gripped his wand so hard his knuckles were white. "What the fuck is worth all this?" he growled.
Hermione eyed him from where she lay, prone and trembling, wrestling to keep her dinner in her stomach. The stone floor was cool beneath her hot angry body, cooling her flushed skin, seeping into her furious muscles.
But this moment eclipsed the pain. The yearning. She wanted, more than anything to tell him. To make him see. To get him fully on-board. To share the burden. To have just one of her friends understand that she wasn't just some crazy fanatic... That this was essential. That she hated it and it scared the hell out of her… and that there was a genuine possibility that there was no way to win this war if she didn't.
He could occlude better than her. The secret would be safe. As long as he wanted it to be. So the question then was... Did she trust him? Did she trust that knowing about the Horcruxes would solidify his conviction rather than send him running back to Tom in horror?
Her gaze was piercing enough that Regulus actually looked a little uncomfortable. His fury and resentment fading slightly.
"Horcruxes," she said finally, and she hadn't noticed how sore her throat was until the words were scraping through it. She'd never screamed through their previous sessions. Had always been able to keep it in. "I think he's going to give you one of his Horcruxes if we do this."
Regulus didn't reel. He didn't exclaim his horror and disgust. He didn't ask what Horcruxes were. "Bloody fucking hell," he breathed. "Lucius? Bella? That's what he gave them?"
"I think so. I hope so. I don't think even they know what they are. Just that they're precious to Tom. Albus and I, we've gotten rid of one, but there are 4 more, Reg. We need this. If we're ever going to beat him… we need this."
Hermione watched as Regulus processed through that. It was fast. His brain was accustomed to processing horror quickly. "Alright," he said with a nod, and a dark and reluctant acceptance. He took one steadying breath. "Again?"
Hermione smiled grimly as her soul raged against the question. "Again."
When Hermione stepped through the doors to the Common Room an hour later, her body feeling broken, all her ligaments twanging with fatigue, and her nerves on absolute fire, Remus was immediately at her side, his wolf senses on high alert.
"Hermione, what the hell?"
She smiled weakly at him. All she wanted was to collapse into his arms and have him carry her to bed.
Remus pulled her trembling body into his, then jerked back. "I remember this," he said, his gaze frantic. "You've been Crucioed!"
"Shh!" Hermione hissed, her eyes looking around the less than empty common room. "Just… let's go talk, okay?"
Remus' worry mingled with confusion. A frown tugging at his lips. "Can you make it up the stairs?"
Hermione glanced up them, immediately daunted. Why the bloody hell did seventh years have to be at the very top of the tower? But she wasn't going to be a spectacle. And this was going to be a regular occurrence. So she'd damned well better prove to herself that she could do this. She nodded determinedly. "Am I Gryffindor, or am I Gryffindor?"
Remus gripped her hand so tight it hurt - more than her hand already had-, but she said nothing as they climbed the stairs to his room, where Hermione crawled, relieved, onto his bed.
"I'm sorry," she said, trying to find a comfortable position that didn't make the pillows or blankets feel like they were assaulting her. "I know tonight should be about you, and here I am with this stupid secret I have to tell you."
Remus sat gingerly beside her. "Don't be ridiculous. Can I get you anything? Do anything? Do you need a pain potion?"
Hermione sighed. She hadn't been taking anything so far. The pain had been manageable. But this was much worse. Still, pain potions could be addictive. And she definitely didn't want to tell Poppy what was going on. She shook her head. "Let's just… let's just be here, and talk, okay? Because… this is going to sound bad."
Remus' frowning worry deepened.
"Do you trust me, Remus?" she asked quietly.
He opened his mouth to answer, reflexively, but she kept going.
"Do you trust me to do what's right? To know my limits? To take care of myself? To make my own decisions?"
He hesitated. "Are you… doing this on purpose? Hermione… what's going on?"
"I'll tell you," she promised. "Just, answer first, please?"
He took one long moment in contemplation. Evidently wrestling with his fears, and her current condition, and trying to fit it into a cohesive set of beliefs about how far Hermione would go for the war. "I… yes. I trust you," he said at last. Though she could tell it was a choice he was making more than a belief he was relaying.
She didn't blame him.
And so she told him everything. (Except, of course, about the Horcruxes. It was already bad enough that he'd been spying on her with the map and surmised Regulus was probably disloyal to Tom.)
He sat in silence for a long moment as emotions flickered across his face. Then he heaved a deep sigh, and curled up next to Hermione on the bed. "I can't even process this right now, Hermione. I really can't. I'm choosing to trust you in this. To trust your judgement. And I just… Let's just sleep, okay? Let's pretend for a minute, that the world is a good place full of good things." He didn't meet her gaze.
Hermione rolled into him, and softly dropped a kiss onto his collarbone. "Okay," she whispered. And she breathed through the pain as he dropped off into sleep.
