Author's Note

Please forgive any spelling and/or grammar errors. I hope you enjoy it, please let me know what you think!

This chapter will be told from both Hermione and Remus's perspectives. It is the conclusion of this book. The final installment in this series will be titled Everything, and it will be told in two parts: before the end of the war, and after continuing past Hermione catching up with where the story started.

Also, a lot of people have been really upset with how Remus is handling things. First off, I completely agree that he's not doing a good job of it. But that's sort of the point. His childhood was very similar to Harry's. His family was ashamed of him and forbade him from having any friends until he went to Hogwarts, so he was all alone. Then he made friends, like Harry did with Hermione and Ron, and they fought a war together. But imagine if at the end of the war, Ron died and Harry believed Hermione had done it. And afterwards, he spent the next twelve years alone without any friends because he was so messed up over it all. It doesn't exactly lend itself to a healthy mindset. There are people that require years of therapy to work through significantly less.

Remus is trying to do better, but he isn't perfect and he's going to mishandle things on occasion because of his history – particularly in the heat of the moment when Moony is pushing him. I always thought this explained the few outbursts he has in the books where he displays a significant amount of distrust or bursts of temper.

PS I'm not J. K. Rowling, so I don't own anything :(

Chapter 21: Teddy

July 1997

Lupin Cabin

Hermione,

I am doing much better, thanks for asking. Though between Fleur and Mum I'm still not allowed out of bed for any real length of time. Once Mum has returned to the Burrow I would welcome a visit, but best wait a bit so you don't accidentally run into her. I don't blame you for what happened in the least, so get that thought out of your head immediately.

This morning I received a letter from Gringotts as well as the proposed contact we have been hoping for. I read through it, and judging from what they've included, they are very grateful that you saved those three families last week during the giant attack. It's probably as good a deal as you're going to get, so you best take it quick. They've invited you to visit the bank at your earliest convenience to sign it.

Best of Luck,

Bill

Hermione read the letter, smiling slightly to herself. This was excellent news. If Bill thought it was a good offer, then she needed to get over to Diagon Alley as soon as possible before they changed their minds. There was no telling how long their goodwill would last. Particularly as the Ministry would be falling soon, and they weren't likely to believe Hermione could hold up her end of the deal once it did.

It was also a relief to hear Bill didn't blame her for the injuries he'd suffered. She'd been worried, but unable to visit him in person since all of the Weasleys had been coming and going from Shell Cottage since he'd been released from the Hogwarts infirmary.

Bill had never been the type to hold a grudge, but the thought that he resented her for not warning him had weighed on her heavily ever since her fight with Remus.

In fact, she'd not seen anyone since then except Mad-Eye. He'd shown up the morning after Albus's death and tersely demanded she tell him everything she knew about the Azkaban breakout so that he could organize the Order to track them and hopefully catch a few before they did any serious damage. She hadn't been able to tell him much, and he'd adamantly declined her offer to help in the search. At least he'd been willing to use what she knew and believed her that it would happen. It was more than Albus used to do.

Though he had added a pointed reminder that she was playing a dangerous game meddling with time, and that she had better be ready to deal with the consequences should she make the wrong move.

Had that meant he blamed her for Albus's death as well? Or had he already suspected that the other man was dying? Mad-Eye was far more intimately familiar with Dark curses, so it was possible he recognized what Albus's withered and blacked arm signified. He knew Albus best – including the way the man operated with all of his secrets and stingy sharing of important information. Plus, he'd not mentioned Snape at all, so part of her wondered if he'd already guessed that there was more going on than he knew about.

She'd been too afraid to ask should her suspicions prove wrong.

But how many of the others blamed her as well? Probably the twins did. They'd certainly been quick to get on her case after Ron had been poisoned. Though maybe the set down she'd given them afterwards had stuck, and they understood her position.

The rest of the Order, at least those that knew about her, had been too busy to come by afterwards now that they had their hands full with the Azkaban breakout and the latest surge in Death Eater activity.

The only person not aiding in that was Sirius, but he was out of the country picking up supplies for the joke shop. It was probably for the best. She wasn't entirely sure what he'd say on the matter given his hatred of Severus. It had mellowed out after he had saved Remus's life, but Hermione doubted very much that murdering Dumbledore wouldn't get him going again quick as a flick of a whip.

She didn't blame any of them if they were mad at her. Even Remus. Especially Remus. It was easy to see what the situation looked like from an outside perspective. She looked suspicious as hell. And given Remus's history, she should have known what a trigger her part in Albus's death would have been for him. She easily recalled how devastated he'd been by the loss, and how much he'd changed afterwards, going from the one urging they trust one another to being suspicious of everyone – even Harry at times.

Was that her fault?

If she could go back – again, that is – she'd have said bugger it all, and warned him beforehand.

But since she couldn't do that, she'd resigned herself to weathering out the storm, knowing they'd eventually get it sorted. It wasn't as though she was intimately familiar with being at odds with her friends. Not a single year at Hogwarts had passed where Harry or Ron or both weren't furious at her for one reason or another – a trend that had continued all the way up until she'd traveled back in time.

In time, they'd patch things up. She was positive it would be the same now. Assuming, of course, she was around long enough for that to –

"Name, please," a goblin demanded in a bland, repetitive sort of way that had Hermione suspecting that he'd greeted every arrival that day exactly the same way.

Hermione blinked, bringing the aged goblin into focus and catching the faint hint of floor polish in the air. Her feet had carried her inside on autopilot while her mind had been occupied elsewhere.

She glanced about, realizing it was the first time since arriving in the past that she'd visited the bank. Ordinarily, she conducted her business through owls. The smooth, gleaming floor and bustling goblins were exactly as she remembered. The huge glass dome above filtered in natural light that was enhanced by the crystal chandelier that hung from the center. Elegant veined marble columns stretched from floor to ceiling between each workstation that made up the long, polished wooden counters. Behind each station sat a meticulously working goblin shuffling stacks of paper or filling the air with sharp clinks as they weighed small handfuls of golden coins.

A pointed cough reminded her that she had yet to answer the squat goblin's question, so she hastily supplied, "H. G. John. I'm here to see Gornuk regarding a contract."

She'd assumed the name when they'd first begun negotiations, adapting it from Remus's pseudonym and the realization that she was the one to write the factual book Harry had once mentioned to her about the war. Already she'd begun drafting a few ideas for how to organize the chapters, but they'd all been put on hold since Severus presented her current conundrum to her.

Since Mad-Eye's visit, this was actually the first and only step she'd taken to help Harry and the Order. There hadn't seemed much point to doing more when very soon it might not matter. It was a far more pessimistic outlook than she was used to taking, but she'd been unable to shake free of it.

The goblin gave her a stern look that made even more lines appear on his wrinkled visage and left her feeling like he could see through her Concealment and Glamor Charms, but after a brief hesitation, he looked over the list he held. Seeming to find her name, he instructed, "This way, please."

"Of course," she replied, pulling her hood up further so as not to be recognized by the other patrons as she followed the short strides of the goblin leading her to a private office.

After a few whispered words between the greeter and Gornuk, the latter produced a long scroll that he unrolled. Using one hand to keep it flat, he offered Hermione a familiar looking quill and pointed at a line, saying, "Sign here, please."

Hermione looked at the blood quill. It was exactly like the one Umbridge had used in her fifth year to torture students in detention – particularly Harry. He still had the scars that read 'I must not tell lies' on the back of his hand. Hermione had used blood quills to sign some of her legal documents over the years when she'd been working with the Ministry. It was standard for signing binding contracts, but there was no way she'd use one without first reading the agreement for herself.

"I'd like to read it first. I'm sure you understand," she said politely, smiling softly and inclinging her head in a show of respect and deference.

"Shrewd. Very well then," he allowed, observing her approvingly.

It was just as Bill had said, far better than any of the previous offers the goblins had tried negotiating. This one included a single lump sum to be paid by the Ministry that would cover any and all damages incurred as well as provide any reparations necessary to individual families as a direct result of the wizarding fighting. In return, the goblins were agreeing to forgive all individual witches and wizards responsible for causing said damages, as well as vowing not to overtly side with Voldemort at any point during the war.

It went on to include other stipulations, such as the document being voided with the Ministry's forfeit of additional gold if goblins did not receive the right to carry wands by January of the year 2007, and other terms and conditions that would negate the contract. Hermione skimmed through the parts detailing how the money would be divided out among the goblins, and what was necessary for a goblin to be eligible to apply for reparations.

Overall, it was a very standard contract that included nothing unexpected. Though Hermione was pained to see, the amount the Ministry was being asked to pay was significantly steeper than they'd previously been debating over.

"The total the Ministry owes –"

"Is non-negotiable," Gornuk stated firmly, crossing his arms in a show that clearly indicated that he was unyielding on this point.

Hermione sincerely hoped Kingsley would forgive her for putting the Ministry in debt immediately upon his assuming office. There truly wasn't another way.

"It all seems to be in order then," she capitulated, accepting the quill this time when he offered it to her.

"Here," he said sternly, indicating a line.

The biting scratch and painful itch clawed into the back of her hand, but she kept her face carefully neutral as she signed her true name. Gornuk turned the paper and signed it himself with his own quill. Their names glistened slightly, the fresh blood bright and wet on the scroll. Another goblin that had so far been a silent spectator of the proceedings, stepped forward and stamped the side near where they'd signed with an official looking seal.

"And here," Gornuk said, indicating another line. They repeated the same process as before, the quill slicing deeply to gather her blood. "Here as well," he said, indicating the final line at the bottom of the scroll.

With the last stamp, the scroll multiplied. He handed one copy off to the goblin with the stamp, which he immediately moved to file in a cabinet on the side of the room. Gornuk gave Hermione one of the copies, the back of her hand having already healed without a trace of discoloration or smear of blood. And the final one, he rolled up and used a bit of wax to seal it closed.

"Griphook," Gornuk called, waiting until the bearded goblin Hermione remembered from Shell Cottage, and their subsequent breakin of Gringotts, appeared. She ducked her head to avoid him seeing her disguised face. "See that this is discreetly filed away at the Ministry where it won't be found until after the war is over."

"Creswell should be able to manage it," Griphook said in his low, rumbling baritone.

"Oversee him, just to be certain," Gronuk advised, displaying their continued distrust, even of the wizard they most respected.

Hermione saw herself out. Mostly, she was relieved that at least one thing had gone as planned and been accomplished that year, when everything else had seemed like a disaster more often than not. Her relief was tempered, though, with the understanding that very soon her actions might not even matter.

What would happen if she vanished? Who would make the deal with the goblins if she didn't? Bill wouldn't remember working with her. No one would even be aware that it was necessary.

She was terrified that Severus was right, and that any second she would return to her own time and completely forget this entire experience. And what else would change if she didn't time travel?

Worse, was the fact she'd not even been able to discuss the problem with Remus since he'd blown up at her about Dumbledore. She wished she knew how he felt about her potentially leaving, but he'd gone straight from helping at the school to chasing the escaped Death Eaters.

But what would she say when they finally did talk? As much as she wanted to just tell him everything, her memory of his hatred of Severus those few times they'd seen each other after Albus died were too clear. It was impossible that he'd known the truth.

So she'd come full circle once again, and was back to wondering who, without her, would make the deal with the goblins? Or save that girl from the Dementors the month before? Or help in the Department of Mysteries? Or get the Horcrux books to Albus?

She absolutely hated all of the unknowns!

"Hermione," Severus breathed, stepping into view from the shadows of her porch.

"Severus! You startled me," she gasped, hand flying to her chest as though to still her galloping heart. The organ throbbed steadily against the confines of her ribs, frantic to burst free of its cage.

"I tried to Floo first, but you weren't here, and this couldn't wait," he said cryptically, shifting his gaze away as she approached.

"Something has happened," she stated needlessly. As if anything else was new. Her racing heart sprinted faster as a pained look crossed his face. "Tell me," she ordered.

"The Dark Lord has decided that whoever learns of the plans to move Potter first will earn the post of headmaster at Hogwarts next year," he announced, still not looking at her.

"That's all? You needn't worry. You'll tell him that whatever he learns is a false lead deliberately planted to throw them off," Hermione assured. "It will impress him that you still have a means to learn what the Order is up to."

"And he'll believe that the Order simply shared their plans with me after I killed Albus?"

"You'll have to figure out the best way to sell it. You're a successful spy for a reason. I'm sure you can figure out a way to spin it," she said, feeling the tendril of dread that had woven around her loosen perceptibility. This was an event that she'd already planned for rather than the unexpected catastrophe his initial words had conjured in her mind. At first he looked grudgingly approving, finally meeting her gaze, but the look vanished when she added, "And you're going to share the real plan to secure your place as his most valuable servant and become headmaster yourself."

"Sell out Potter. Again," he grumbled petulantly.

"You'll only share part of the plan," she promised.

"Explain," he ordered, crossing his arms.

"We used decoys. It was Mundungus's idea, but we later learned you had Confunded him into believing that," she rambled, knowing they'd have to iron out the details of who knew what later. "You didn't tell Vol- I mean You-Know-Who, but we also used Polyjuice Potion to make six of us look like Harry too."

"Do you have enough of the potion brewed for that?" he asked skeptically.

Hermione opened and closed her mouth dumbly, watching him raise a single disdainful brow as he eyed her and huffed his annoyance. Considering he was the one that supplied a large portion of her potion ingredients, particularly those hardest to come by or restricted, he knew precisely what she did and didn't have. Including those needed for the potion that were not among those he'd ever delivered to her.

"No, with everything happening with Remus, I forgot," she admitted sheepishly.

"I'll bring you some that I have on hand later this week. We can refine the plan then as well," he offered, all traces of superiority gone at the mention of her fiance. Contritely, he breathed, "I had to tell him."

"You should have trusted me to do it," she insisted, glaring at Severus for interfering. At least now, with the way things stood at present, he'd no longer have the opportunity to butt into her relationship.

Hesitantly, he asked, "Has he…?"

"We'll know soon enough," Hermione said briskly, pursing her lips. They were nearly out of time – one more day if she remembered correctly – and if Remus wasn't going to come talk to her, then the ball was completely in his court. She would have preferred being part of the decision making process. Apparently he disagreed. "But I think I might have lost him either way. He can't get over how much I trust you," she confessed.

Devastation crumpled his features, twisting them in a way that screamed a warning at her. His face was a blinking billboard like so many neon lights, all begging her not to ask.

"Hermione…" he began thickly, pausing to swallow.

She shrank back, unused to such emotion accompanying his use of her name. Yet despite knowing she was on dangerously thin ground, ready to crumple at the slightest misstep, she forced herself to ask, "What else has happened?"

"Dolohov…he… Hermione, I am so sorry. I didn't know until after," Severus said brokenly.

She shook her head, uncomprehending. "What? You didn't know what?"

"Your parents are gone. He killed them last night, Hermione," he explained, closing his eyes against the sight of her as he relayed the news.

"No," she breathed. She was going to get them tomorrow. They couldn't be…gone. Not when she'd just wrapped her head around what having them back in her life would be like.

"I'm sorry," Severus repeated. The words were hollow. Empty. Or was that her?

Numbness buffered her, and it was a welcome sensation - the lack of feeling. Calm. Muffling and suppressing the deep raging of her soul. She had no wish to properly register the devastating loss.

"He was furious over failing previously. It infuriated the Dark Lord. So much so that he was left out of the attack on Hogwarts. He wanted revenge, and a means to get back in the Dark Lord's good graces. He'd hoped to learn of the plan to move Potter from them," Severus explained. Absently, Hermione listened as though from underwater. Only every few words actually registered.

Then, all at once, they did.

"Was it quick?" she demanded.

The truth wrote itself upon his brow before he confessed, "They were tortured first."

"Harry," she gasped, alarmed. Though it was more an echo of the feeling than anything real.

"Your Memory Charms held. He learned nothing from them," Severus promised, though it offered little solace.

The night they'd stopped the Death Eaters. She should have taken advantage of the opportunity. She should have had tea and told her mum all about Remus. She should have told her dad about all the laws she overturned and changed. They'd have been so happy for her. Those were memories she could never make now.

A trembling began deep in her soul. The violet quaking set to shake her apart at the seams. Hastily, she erected an impenetrable shield to hide the extent of her pain and tamp down her reaction. She would not lose it. Not right now. Not right here.

Better to feel nothing. At least until she could process it properly.

Despite her resolve, words slipped out. "I never had the chance to –"

The front door opened, and Hermione blinked at the sight of Remus silhouetted by the frame. All three of them froze momentarily. Then Remus shouted, "Stupefy!"

"Remus, wait! No!" Hermione cried, darting between the two men and holding hands out, palm extended towards each man's chest.

Another flash of light sailed over her shoulder, and her head whipped around. Angrily, she snapped, "Severus, don't! Just go!"

He stepped off her open porch with a curt nod and turned, Disapparating with a crack!

"What was he doing here? Did you invite him back to our home after everything?" Remus growled, fresh cuts from transformation the night before extending down his neck, deeper and more violent than usual.

He must not have taken the potion she made for him. Or Moony had been too agitated for it to matter. That had happened one other time.

She had completely forgotten about the full moon this week, and how it had probably been partially responsible for his temper the last time they'd spoken. Not to mention his delay in visiting her.

"You know how I feel about him…about the two of you," he added, trying to control his reaction.

"It doesn't matter," she replied flatly, recalling the bombshell Severus had just dropped on her.

Her parents were dead. Tortured.

And they hadn't even understood why it was happening to them. They'd died not knowing her. She'd been nothing to them in the end.

So much for her impenetrable walls. Cracks were already forming, allowing a dagger to slip through and slice a curling ribbon across her heart. Blood welled in her chest, an ache so deep she nearly couldn't shut it out once the pain began seeping in. And a chasm of despair waited just beyond.

"Doesn't matter?" he asked, incredulous.

"No," she said, having a hard time caring at all right then.

"What were you thinking? I could have lost you. He could have killed you too!" Remus raged, his whole body vibrating with suppressed emotion. Probably, he wanted to shake some sense into her. Not that he would. He'd never lay a hand on her in anger.

If only her parents had been so lucky.

"He wouldn't," she denied wearily, sick of fighting with him already. She just wanted to curl up and sleep. Anything to get the awful day over with that much sooner. Maybe the rest of the week too.

"Because the two of you are friends," he confirmed, barking out a disbelieving laugh. "Damn it, Hermione. I know I was being unreasonable before and should have talked to you – should have trusted you. I know. Believe me I know that. But what are you doing? What's going on?"

He looked at her like she'd lost her mind. Maybe she had. It certainly felt like it right then. The only other time she could remember being this out of sorts was when Ron walked out on her and Harry. She'd not found her voice for weeks afterwards, her thoughts such a chaotic jumble that she'd gotten lost in her own head. At least then Harry had let her stay lost in peace and quiet.

Maybe Remus was the mad one. He'd certainly begun to look a bit crazed by their conversation.

Yet she couldn't bring herself to care. Because her parents…they were…

"Do you even know what you're doing?" he asked harshly, tone raw and guttural in a way that she could hardly process just then.

"There is a reason for everything I do," she stated mildly. Not that it stopped bad things from happening.

"Are you sure about that?"

Finally, the thin strand that was her sanity snapped, and she lost it. Throwing her arms up, she screamed, "Are you honestly mad at me for trying to make the best of what I have to work with? In a few months you'll be gone, and I'll be left picking up the pieces for the next decade until I'm back with my friends."

Alone. Because nearly all of the friends she'd made and the man she'd fallen in love with would be dead. As dead as her parents.

Remus stared at her, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. Had he forgotten about her temper since they'd been apart? Apparently.

"Your friends…," he mused, shaking his head. With an edge of desperation, he asked, "Is that what's going to happen? I was under the impression that you might not even end up in the past the way things are currently. I've spent the last week going down the rabbit hole, playing out every possible scenario, and I know what I want now. But would you prefer that? To not be here? To stay with them instead?"

As abruptly as the fire inside her ignited, it snuffed out. Not even an ember remained to fuel her. Weakly, she muttered, "I don't know."

"Why are you acting like this? You always have an opinion about everything. Tell me what you believe will happen. Tell me what you need," he begged. "Tell me what you want."

Hermione sank down onto the edge of the stoop, her will to fight for anything, even her relationship fleeing, abandoning her at long last.

What did she want?

She just wanted to be done.

Done fighting Voldemort. And Death Eaters. And Dementors. And giants.

Done arguing. With Albus. With Severus. Most especially, with Remus.

Done explaining herself or making excuses or holding her tongue.

She was just plain done with it all.

"There's nothing easy about knowing what's to come. I'm all alone in this, and I know that's the way it has to be but –"

"You're not alone. You confide in him. You…trust him…after what he did," Remus said carefully, tightly controlling his anger and disgust over her choice in doing any such thing, and sighing he added, "you still trust him. I can't support you in that. I won't. But I am –"

"I guess that's it then," she said over him, cutting off whatever he intended to say as she stood back up to face him.

Remus's eyes widened, and hoarsely, he demanded, "Are you so ready to give up on us?"

So quietly her reply was barely audible, Hermione asked, "Are you?"

Distress twisted his face, and his mouth opened, but no words came out. And when Hermione couldn't take another second of any of it, she turned on the spot, Disapparating.

London

"Wotcher," Dora called, greeting Remus when he entered the Auror safe house they were using as a base to track Lucius Malfoy, Crabbe Sr., and Goyle Sr. Scrimgeour had multiple teams each tracking between two and three of the fugitives across Britain.

Remus collapsed onto the sofa next to her. Every inch of his body ached brutally, and he longed to surrender to a good night's sleep, despite having slept through the entire day prior. He'd taken the Wolfsbane Potion, so he'd kept his mind during his transformation two nights earlier, but Moony had been a wreck with everything going on, so he'd spent a restless night pacing and fighting with himself as the wolf raged, desperate to release his aggression.

Moony had never been so close to the surface for Remus before. He feared he was becoming like Greyback – a monster all the time. His emotional state was in an uproar, a total upheaval to the carefully balanced and calm atmosphere Remus typically projected to the world – even if it was a false front. The wolf inside him had been trying to take over since his last fight with Hermione, and the recent full moon seemed to have strengthened him further, loaning him a measure of dominance and control over Remus.

The whole experience and the lingering pain from the transformation had left him irritable and itching for a fight – which was probably why things had gone as terribly as they had with Hermione. But he'd wanted to see her so badly that he'd been practically anticipating a doozy of a fight so that they could make up afterwards. He'd needed the stress relief that she'd gotten into the habit of providing for him after a bad moon. Except things hadn't gone the way they usually did at all.

He'd been dying to apologize since the moment he returned to Hogwarts and reason, as well as a great deal of sanity, had snapped him out of his stupor of self-hatred. She wasn't his parents or friends. She was Hermione, and she'd never turn her back on him – as Bill had pointed out to him.

But he'd needed to look after Harry, then the breakout occurred – just as Hermione informed them it would – then the moon. He'd gone to her as soon as he'd woken. He just hadn't expected to find Snape there with her. It had thrown him off, and Moony had been out for blood, wrestling free from the constraints Remus had been using to try and muzzle him with.

"I thought you'd be back sometime yesterday. Must have been a rough one," Dora said, sizing him up. Gingerly, she reached over to touch one of the cuts Remus hadn't bothered applying a healing salve to yet.

"She left," he announced, hardly believing that Hermione had just up and gone – before he'd had a chance to apologize and let her know none of it mattered because he wanted to figure things out together. Normally he was the one that needed space during a fight. Never had she pulled that move before.

But she had, and he was still reeling from the abruptness of it. She'd stunned him when she'd asked if he was ready to give up on them. He'd already figured out that he wasn't. But he'd taken too long to come to that conclusion, and now she was apparently ready to throw in the towel herself.

The whole incident had been so out of character for her, and he didn't understand.

"I went to see Hermione, but she left," he repeated hollowly, hardly daring to believe what it might mean for them.

Dora tensed, slowly asking, "Where'd she go?" as she tried to play catch up. Not that she had to try very hard. All Remus had talked about with her since the morning of Dumbledore's funeral had been Hermione.

They'd met up almost an hour before it started, and he'd told her about what Hermione had said when he confronted her. He'd also passed on what Snape had told him, which Hermione had confirmed. Dora hadn't voiced her own opinions on the matter, for which he was eternally grateful, but he could guess. Her desires likely hadn't changed since the fall.

After the funeral, she'd passed on the information about the Azkaban breakout, and had even gotten Gawain Robards, the Auror that took over for Scrimgeour when he was promoted to Minister, to agree with her partnering with Remus to track the escapees. Probably, some combination of Mad-Eye and Scrimgeour had influenced the decision, hoping that it might signify an alliance with the Order, and therefore Harry.

They'd spent the time since the funeral hunting the Death Eaters. Right up until he'd had to lock himself up during the moon.

"Didn't say," he muttered, burying his face in his hands, hiding from how he'd behaved. He'd waited for hours for her to return to their home. Waited until the sun had begun to set, but she hadn't.

It was so easy to look back and cringe at every word that had left his mouth around her recently. It was always like that for him right before or after the moon. He reacted on instinct, and there was no room for rational thought. He'd gone there to set things right, but seeing Snape had thrown him off. The tendency for that to happen was part of why he used to stay holded up this time of the month, refusing to see anyone. Well, that and the pain he was in, which was often considerable.

It certainly was just then.

Every joint and bone in his body throbbed incessantly, reminding him that they'd broken and reformed twice in a matter of hours. It'd be at least another day before he stopped noticing the bone-deep agony.

"Did the two of you have a chance to talk before she left?"

"Not really," he admitted reluctantly, frowning as he considered how detached and wooden she'd been for most of the conversation. Very unlike the passionate woman he'd given his heart to. Her scent had been all wrong too. A dark beach under a cloudy night sky. Not a hint of jasmine or starlight in sight. "She wasn't really acting like herself."

"Did you ask her why?"

"No," he admitted, flushing at his own stupidity. "I tried, but she didn't answer."

"Men," Dora muttered exasperatedly. "Sometimes you have to try harder to get people to open up."

"Snape was there," he said by way of explanation, the name alone holding a wealth of unspoken meaning.

"He wasn't!" Dora gasped, nearly falling off the couch as she grabbed his arm. He winced at the pressure, but welcomed the pain, knowing he deserved it.

"Believe me, I wish I was lying, but the two are as thick as ever," he said, a surge of renewed anger coursing through him. Though it was mostly aimed at Snape and himself.

"There must be a reason. She's Hermione for Merlin's sake! You know her," Dora insisted, willing him to not lose faith in his fiancee. "And I thought you'd already worked through this."

In all their conversations this last week he'd realized how unfair his accusations and doubts of Hermione had been. She was loyal to a fault, and he needed to remember that and stop doubting her. He had to stop projecting his fears onto her actions.

Snape's presence had all of that resolve flying out the window. Knowing the man had convinced Dumbledore that he was sorry about James's death had Moony clawing up his mind, slashing it to meaningless, irrational ribbons.

"I thought I knew Peter too," he said, finally voicing aloud the true source of his irrational fear, and acknowledging it to someone other than himself. It was the one doubt he'd not yet shared with Dora.

"She's different. I know it," Dora said stubbornly, discarding the idea instantly.

"I know," he acknowledged sadly. Tenderness for the witch in question had his eyes closing briefly as he conjured an image of her smiling at him in his mind.

His loneliness for so long had been such a piercing blade. One with a serrated edge that left him tattered, the pieces of his soul so jagged that making connecting with others nearly impossible.

He'd tried for her, she'd made him want to, but he'd failed.

"Then what's the problem?"

"When everything happened, I forgot. It was like being thrown back to the day after James and Lily died. Then Sirius had killed Peter too…or at least I thought he had. Then he was arrested and went to jail.

"It all happened so fast. Everything I knew was destroyed. I had nothing. No one. I can't begin to describe how awful things were for me then. There were times I wanted out so badly that I…well, it hardly matters now.

"Dumbledore's death was like reliving the experience all over again. I was terrified, and I lashed out. Though Moony 's reaction emphasized all of it, making everything so much worse than necessary," Remus explained, haunted by the miserable years he'd endured after the war ended. Years that should have been filled with joy because the war was finally over, yet there'd been no solace for him to find.

"This time will be different. Nothing like that will happen again," Dora insisted.

"You're so optimistic still," Remus murmured quietly, wondering if he'd been the same during the first war or if too many awful things had darkened his outlook by the time he joined the Order.

"Don't say it like I'm naive. I fight Dark wizards for a living. We've been over this. I'm not a schoolgirl, Remus," Dora said forcefully, jutting out her chin in defiance. He nodded, accepting the truth of her statement. He'd stopped seeing her as such months ago when they'd begun fighting side-by-side whenever Dumbledore ordered it.

"She didn't try to fight for us," he complained, falling back into their previous conversation. And she'd gone before he could fight for both of them.

"She cares. Hell, she loves you, and you know that," Dora said with a roll of her eyes.

"I'm not sure about anything right now," he groaned, cursing his body and past for making him so distrustful and suspicious now, "and time is almost up."

"It's up today, actually. Hermione gave me a range of two or three dates a while back, and I think today marks the last day," she admitted, twisting her fingers together as she watched him anxiously. "I wasn't sure how to bring it up or if you even wanted to know. I was hoping you'd reach out to Hermione and come up with a plan before now, so I'd know what to say when this time came. But…."

He wasn't sure how he felt about her keeping that close a watch on the date. Had she been all along, or just since he'd said something at the funeral?

"Maybe Hermione and I simply were never meant to be anything," Remus began, voicing a sentiment that had been scratching insistently at the back of his mind, demanding he acknowledge it. "We keep getting back to this point. This place where we aren't communicating and I don't trust her, or where I remember what I am and what that means. It's…it's like I'm stuck on a sinking ship that's burning, with no way out and no solution."

"Bollocks," Dora declared tactlessly, looking extremely exasperated with him.

"Pardon?"

"Remus, no – don't interrupt. Hear me out, please," Dora insisted, holding a hand out to silence him. "Tell me, when it's the two of you, just going about and getting to live your lives, things are good. Yeah? I'm talking about those periods between the fighting and Order business. How is your relationship then?"

"Perfect," he admitted, longing for a return to any one of those moments he'd shared with Hermione.

"I figured," she said, nodding along with the barest hint of a smile curling her lips. "It won't be like this forever. We won't always be at war. Hermione won't always be keeping secrets. Eventually, –"

"You and I will both die before we get to eventually," Remus reminded her. All he had to look forward to was more of the same.

Was it enough?

"Then you're going to have to come to terms with that and stop tilting back and forth. Get off the fence. Either you take a chance on her or you don't," Dora said plainly. "All in or all out. It's your decision."

"My decision," he repeated, rolling the words about in his mouth.

"Yes. You said she didn't fight for you, but she has been. This whole time she's fought for you. I think now it's your turn to do the same. But only if you're going to stop doubting her. It isn't fair, and you know it."

"I do," he agreed, acknowledging a point well made.

Initially, he'd fought to convince Hermione to give him a chance. But since then, Dora was right. Hermione was the one forgiving his temper and condition, always making the effort even when he made it difficult for her to do so.

"So, no pressure or anything, but do you want the chance to sort things out with Hermione? Because according to you, the only way you can is if Teddy exists."

"I honestly don't know," Remus mused, considering it, and ignoring the disappointed look Dora was aiming his way.

He knew he loved Hermione. And that her recent actions hurt him. If he did nothing, she'd vanish and he'd forget all about it – the hurt and the love. Which would be better? He knew if he allowed himself to be selfish, he'd choose Hermione every time – damn the consequences. But what if she really was helping Snape, and ultimately Voldemort? Was it worth the risk, was she worth the risk?

Yes.

Always.

Then there was the fact that he secretly, desperately, wanted to have the boy that had been waived under his nose for nearly a year now. It was like some sort of cruel joke. A tempting apple from the garden of Eden, complete with the devastating catch when possessed. Years ago, when Harry had first been born, Remus had realized how much he ached for a child of his own. But with his curse, he knew it was never meant to be. But now here he was, considering the possibility.

"What about George?" he asked, the words slipping out of their own accord.

"He knows that if you ever changed your mind and agreed, it would happen. It was part of why it took so long for us to sort things out," Dora said frankly, apparently having been just waiting for him to ask that very thing.

"He's all right with you having my child," Remus repeated disbelievingly.

"No, but he has his own reasons for agreeing," Dora said vaguely, shrugging slightly.

"George has reasons?" Remus asked curiously, needing to understand so that he could make a well informed decision.

"Hermione inferred that not all of the Weasleys will survive the war. He's willing to do anything if it means she's around to save his family like she did Sirius. Family is everything to George," Dora said carefully, not daring to let herself consider that George might be the one in need of rescuing.

Selfish motivations. George's acceptance made much more sense now.

Sirius. His survival depending on Hermione hadn't even registered. Snape had briefly mentioned it, but the connection had gotten lost among the avalanche of information dumped on him.

Remus couldn't face losing his last remaining friend. Not again. No more than he could stand not patching things up with Hermione and seeing things through to the point that she could be open and honest about everything with him. They deserved the chance to try after everything they'd been through together the last two years. More than that, she deserved his unconditional trust.

It was time he stopped behaving as he did in school – taking the easy way, even when he knew what his friends were doing was wrong. Time to stop making excuses. Time to start fighting, and make sure she was around.

He was resolved, and he'd do whatever it took to fix things between him and Hermione. He'd prove to Hermione that he trusted her.

"How do we do this?" Remus asked, gesturing between them. Dora gaped at him, apparently not truly believing he'd agree.

"Remus, are you only willing for Hermione's sake? Because I don't want Teddy getting hurt by all this. If you don't want him –"

"I want him," he said, voice guttural. Raw. Vulnerable in a whole new way with the woman before him. A way only Hermione had ever before witnessed.

"Oh. Oh, Remus," Dora whispered softly, lightly resting her hand on his arm. "I had no idea. I'm sorry I was such a brat about all this in the fall."

"You weren't a brat…per say. Though perhaps a bit single minded," he allowed, excusing their previous fights on the subject.

"Thanks. That's kind of you," she snorted, giving him the benefit of the doubt, though not really believing him.

"I guess that brings us back to my previous question, how do we go about this?"

Dora stood, fidgeting awkwardly with her hands and blushing a deep maroon. "I'll be back in a couple minutes. Hermione gave me a potion in the fall when she gave me the dates. It should ensure conception on the first go. Why don't you, um, get yourself ready so we can be quick about it. Or I can bring the other potion she made for…just in case," Dora offered delicately.

"Right," Remus said. This was really happening. He felt about as smooth as he had the first time he'd ever been with a woman. Except aroused was about the very last thing he was feeling just then. Extremely uncomfortable, he muttered, "Bring the other potion."

As soon as she departed, Remus walked around the small flat that the Aurors used when it wasn't safe to return to their homes or when they only needed a place for an hour or two of rest. It was set up for temporary stays, and had the layout of a studio flat. The small kitchen contained only a square table with two rickety chairs. It opened into the main room which only had a worn armchair, equally frayed sofa, and a tiny twin-sized cot shoved into the far corner.

There weren't many options, but the kitchen seemed the least romantic, which might make the whole process a little easier. Remus moved the reports of Lucius Malfoy sightings and maps tracking him and his friends moments that they had spread out on the table to the kitchen counter.

Too soon, considering what was about to take place, Dora Apparated back into the flat. She flushed, dropping a duffle bag she'd brought with her into the armchair before handing over a phial of a red potion he was unfamiliar with. Though he did recognize Hermione's handwriting around the top near the cork stopper spelling out his name.

"Good idea," she said, gesturing at the table before hopping up on it. Remus noticed that she'd also changed into an oversized shirt while she'd been at her flat. That'd make this easier, neither of them needing to undress more than necessary. "Well, bottoms up!" she announced, jauntily saluting him.

"Now?" he asked, and at her speaking look, he agreed, "Right. Yes."

Together, they both downed their respective potions, the saccharin taste coating his throat uncomfortably.

The reaction was immediate. The warmth of blood surging to his groin made him gasp. It was so abrupt it nearly hurt, and the need for relief had him stumbling a half step towards the table, only barely catching himself from falling as a murky fog filled his head, muddling his thoughts.

"That certainly packs a punch," he grunted through clenched teeth.

"I'll say," Dora agreed tightly. "Need me to change to resemble…."

"No, the potion is enough," Remus insisted, internally cringing at the thought of Dora looking like Hermione just then. The whole encounter was strange enough, and he wished to stay as remote and emotionally uninvolved as physically possible. That wouldn't happen if he let himself believe that it was Hermione before him for even a second.

"Right then." Dora shifted on the table and Remus moved between her splayed thighs, gently resting his hands atop them.

Cautiously, and uncertain which way he hoped she'd respond, Remus asked, "You're sure about this?"

"Yeah, just try to be quick," she confirmed, giving them that extra push past the last point of no return. Then, upon reviewing her words, Dora winced, and quickly added, "Sorry."

"It's fine," he muttered, feeling his heart throbbing relentlessly in his penis as he fumbled to undo his pants.

The haze in his mind briefly cleared once the fabric of his trousers was no longer attempting to strangle his erection. His fingers caught the hem of Dora's shirt and he lifted it just barely, trying not to touch her more than necessary or see more than she was comfortable with. But then he hesitated, unsure if that was what she wanted or needed.

"There's a lust component to my potion, so I'm ready whenever you are, yeah?" she said, offering a final permission for him.

The mention of the potion seemed to make a fresh supply of blood rush into his shaft, causing it to swell near to bursting. He'd been able to smell how ready she was. Her natural musk was sharper, nearly stinging his nose like unintentionally snorting pepper, and far less pleasant than Hermione's familiar arousal. Regardless, hearing her say the words made it easier for him to guide his length forward, sliding easily inside the waiting witch. Her hands found his biceps to brace herself while he gripped the edge of the table.

It was fast. Clinical. Only requiring Remus to rock into her a few times before he erupted. Over in a couple minutes thanks to the help of the potions, and probably his record for fastest ever – though he was more grateful than ashamed over that fact. They'd avoided touching each other more than necessary. And each had smothered all traces of sounds that would have otherwise added a layer of intimacy or pleasure somehow suggesting this event to be more than a means to an end.

Afterwards, Remus hastily withdrew from her, hardly even noticing or caring how unsatisfying the experience had been while Tonks grabbed the bag she'd brought and disappeared into the bathroom with little more than a nod and awkward smile.

Taking advantage of the privacy, Remus cleaned himself up at the sink, wondering if he'd done the right thing.

"What now?" he asked when Dora finally emerged fully dressed again.

"Get some sleep. I can do a spell in a few hours to see if it worked. Then we can get back to looking for Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle again," she said, appearing unfazed and back to business as usual between them while they were completing a mission.

Remus took her lead and made himself as comfortable as possible on the sofa while Dora settled onto the cot. Neither spoke, though they were both aware that the other was equally as wide awake.

Dawn was less than an hour off when his greatest fear finally slipped out, heavy in the silence of the room. "What if it didn't work? What if she's gone?"

Gone, and he never got the chance to apologize for doubting her or learn why she'd done what she had. Gone before he could marry the witch that had turned his whole world upside down and inside out.

"It worked. It had to," Dora insisted, her belief absolute.

They were both quiet again, but this time it was not as uncomfortable.

"I'm not sure there's anything she could do that would make me stop loving her," he admitted, wondering if Dora would condemn him for saying such a thing. Not that she ever had before.

So it shouldn't have been a surprise when she suggested, "I'm probably not the one that needs to hear that right now."

As Remus listened to Dora fumbling about on her side of the room with only the predawn light to see by, he realized he was finding it easier to open up to Dora in a way he usually only ever did with Sirius or Hermione.

He'd known the dynamics between them would shift with what they'd done, but he'd not expected to feel more connected to her. Honestly, he'd been afraid he'd never be able to look her in the eye again. But her casual maturity and blaise attitude about the whole thing was setting him at ease in a way he'd not anticipated.

Not to mention how much he appreciated her willingness to play cheerleader when it came to his relationship with Hermione.

Perhaps, if it worked, coparenting with her wouldn't be as challenging as he'd secretly dreaded back in the fall.

A blue glow appeared, and Dora gasped, demanding his immediate attention. Wonderingly, Dora said, "And it looks like you'll still have the chance to tell her how you feel."

"You mean…."

"I'm pregnant," she confirmed, joy bubbling within the two words.

"Teddy," Remus breathed, overcome.

Merlin, Remus could only hope that his son would forgive him for the complicated and challenging life that was in store for him given the circumstances surrounding his existence.

Final Author's Note

Thank you everyone that stuck with this and read the entire story. We're finally at the peak of the biggest hurdle in Remus and Hermione's relationship, a point they were always going to have to get to. Now it'll be about moving forward and getting through the war…

This is my favorite non-canon pairing, so I hope I was able to do it justice. The first chapter of Everything should be up soon – within the week. I hope you will enjoy continuing on this journey with me. Take care, and please let me know what you think!