Author's Note

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

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

Chapter 3: Conversations and Understandings

July 1997

Lupin Cabin

The sight of the flashing blue light coming from the desk snagged Hermione's attention. She blinked before walking slowly towards the source. The afterimages left bright spots clouding her vision and dancing on her eyelids as she moved.

Fresh ink, still shiny and wet stared up at her from the charmed parchment she used to communicate with Remus. When she'd returned to the cabin a few days earlier she'd gotten the parchment out and charmed it to notify her if Remus tried to contact her with it. She'd not actually expected him to – what with everything else they had going on with the war, Tonks, and between them – but part of her had hoped he would anyway. A sign that he missed her as much as she missed him.

Apparently he did.

'Did you ever wonder what I would look like as a zebra?'

Hermione had to read the words three times before they registered. That was not what she'd been expecting him to say if he did reach out to her. Though she should have. He had a way of setting people at ease, and this was just the sort of icebreaker he'd rely on.

'Honestly? No, I can't say that I have,' she wrote as his original message vanished, leaving the space pristine and blank for him to write more.

'Then you should check out my hair right now. Just to satisfy any future curiosity,' he joked, and Hermione could easily imagine a spark of mischief lighting his eyes and a reluctant smile tugging up one side of his lips as he wrote the words.

Then she pictured his hair newly striped black and white.

'Are the words zebra and skunk interchangeable?' Hermione replied suspiciously.

'Possibly.'

Laughter burst from Hermione at reading the single word. It was the first genuine time she had in far too long.

She was about to ask how it happened when the answer appeared.

'Padfoot is driving me nuts.'

Ah. Sirius. She should have known. Probably, it was a new product for the shop. Though how the prankster had managed to trick Remus, Hermione couldn't begin to guess. They'd been friends for too long for Remus not to be familiar with all of his usual methods.

'I thought you were watching Malfoy Manor?'

'Not today.'

That surprised her. She'd assumed he and Tonks would be sitting on the house up until it was time to move Harry out of an abundance of caution. Had they determined that was too risky to continue?

Hermione hated not knowing what Remus was up to each day. She felt cut off from an essential part of herself.

But she could change that. All she had to do was reach out to him. Besides, hadn't he made the effort first by writing to her? How else would they repair things if they weren't talking?

She braced herself for his response – a possible rejection – then suggested, 'If you really need a break, you could come home for dinner one night. I could see your new hairstyle then too.'

A hard, echoing bang sounded three times from her door before she could see Remus's reply.

Moody. She'd been expecting him for the last two days. They were nearly out of time and she needed to get him the potion if nothing else.

"I take it you already know the plan?" Mad-Eye said, voice like a handful of gravel scraping against each other as he stepped into her space to enter the cabin.

His magical blue eye was going wild, roving about the room, scanning for possible threats. Watching it made Hermione nauseous it was going so fast, particularly when it went so far to the side that only the white was showing as he searched the area directly behind him.

Hermione shifted her weight, putting a little space between herself and the paranoid ex-Auror. Focusing on his blasted eye had reminded her of something she'd not even dared to consider before.

His body was never found.

The knowledge came out of nowhere, and completely derailed her thoughts. She'd had a whole series of arguments regarding her trustworthiness lined up prior to Moody's arrival, yet now she couldn't remember a single one of them.

His body had vanished without a trace.

"Yes. Where is Kingsley?" she blurted, hoping the other man would serve as a sort of buffer and sounding board for her. She'd often gone to Kingsley when they'd worked together at the Ministry, and she needed someone to point out the flaws in her logic as she worked out how to save Moody.

"Watching Potter. Why, girlie? You afraid to face me alone?" Mad-Eye asked darkly, assessing her frankly.

"No," she denied, despite being a little unnerved by his obvious distrust. She'd expected it after everything, but seeing it firsthand still bothered her more than it should.

"Then you won't mind explaining your role in Albus's death then, will you?" he demanded, crossing his arms and pinning her in place with no more than a look after she'd shut the front door.

"He knew it was coming. I warned him last year, but he… It doesn't matter, or it didn't in the end. I didn't meddle with time. Everything stayed the same," she stated, remembering how upset Moody had been with her after she'd saved Sirius because of the dangerous risks she'd taken.

"Why should I believe you?" Mad-Eye asked skeptically, his spinning eye finally rolling to a stop to focus solely on her.

"Because I think I can save you," she said bluntly.

It hadn't been what she'd meant to say. In fact, she had her Pensieve on the table, all set up and ready to show her memory of discussing Albus's death with him the first time, as well as her memory of the events of that fateful night from her perspective the first time around to prove she'd not altered the timeline or betrayed anyone. Moody wasn't the type to simply take someone's word, so she'd anticipated needing the proof, and him being able to detect that the memories were real.

Yet now that she'd had her revelation about the crotchety, old Auror, she was finding it difficult to concentrate on anything else.

"Save me?" he said roughly, eyeing her suspiciously.

His eye had taken off again, rotating in fast circles that made her stomach flip unpleasantly if she watched for too long. Moody had straightened too, standing at his full height, or at least as much as his wooden leg would allow. Hermione strongly suspected that his fist, where it was tucked under his arm and hidden by his worn, grey traveling cloak, was tightly gripping his wand as well.

"When Harry is moved. They'll be a fight, but we never found any trace of you. Your body was never recovered. I think it's because –"

"Now none of that," he interrupted, waving off her words.

"What? You haven't let me explain anything yet!" she exclaimed, more certain than ever that her interference was the logical explanation for what happened to the wizard before her that day.

"The fight you just mentioned is the important part of all that," he said sharply, a knife's edge of finality in the words.

"That can wait until we come up with a plan to save you. Given the circumstances, I don't think I can pull off a surprise save the way I did with Sirius," Hermione continued, ignoring him as half-formed ideas started spinning through her head.

"Sirius. I've seen the man. I know how that works when you interfere. I've lived my life, and I have no intention of hiding for Merlin knows how long," Mad-Eye said dismissively, behaving as though this was just another decision that needed to be made regarding the war. As though he wasn't discussing his willingness to give up his life and not make every effort possible to survive. As though he was nothing more than a soldier doing his duty.

Because that was what he was. How he saw himself.

Her mind had latched onto the idea though. There were so many she could do nothing about. So many were lost during the war. Moody didn't have to be one of them. He didn't. She just knew it.

So much pointless, useless death.

It made her want to rage. To hit things. Throw things. Scream. Anything.

"But –"

"No buts, girlie," he insisted firmly, scowling at her for continuing to plead her case.

"I couldn't save Albus. Not even to have him living in hiding. It…it just wasn't in the cards. But I can save you. I know it. Please, Alastor, let me do this. I can't fail anyone else. I…I just can't," Hermione begged, horrified to feel the burning sting of tears filling her eyes and spilling over the damn in record time. She'd not even noticed the mounting pressure before they made their appearance and made her breath hitch.

There wasn't enough air. She couldn't get enough in her lungs. Her chest was a void needing to be filled, but nothing seemed to fill the emptiness.

This war left her feeling like a failure more often than not. It was not an emotion she was intimately familiar with. Experiencing it so frequently these last few years left a bitter taste in her mouth, and only the sweet chocolate taste of Remus had ever managed to expel it for any length of time.

If she didn't, or couldn't, convince Moody to let her save him she'd feel like a murderer. That was the label she'd finally allowed herself to acknowledge while she'd been grieving her parents. It might have been Albus's decision. She might not have aimed the wand. But there had to have been something more she could have done to save him.

Except she hadn't. And that lack of action left her feeling just as culpable in his death.

She wanted it to be different with Mad-Eye.

"It's not up to you to decide my fate or dictate my life, Granger," he said gruffly.

"I know, but why wouldn't you want me to save you when it would be so easy? All the signs are there. How do you know I didn't before?" she asked, warm tears burning lines down her face to drip steadily from her chin as her shoulders shook.

"If it's my time, then it is. I'm not one to sit on the sidelines and watch it all play out. I need to be in the thick of it. Retirement wasn't for me, girlie. I hated it. There was nothing for an old dog like me to keep busy with. It just got me into trouble more often than not. That's why I tried to take up teaching then jumped back into the Order feet first. Besides, I always knew I'd go out fighting. Probably should have when… So it was like that then?"

"I'm afraid I don't follow," Hermione admitted, loath to ever own up to such a failure. Ordinarily her mind worked fast enough to supply the missing pieces when a person suddenly jumped topics since she was a step ahead already, but she'd apparently missed something just then.

"Albus."

Oh. They were back to discussing her role in his death.

Hastily, she wiped at her eyes, pressing the heels of her palms hard enough against her closed lids to see explosions of bright spots. Crying wouldn't do any good. It wouldn't change Mad-Eye's mind. Nor would it help her concentrate. She needed to save her tears for later.

"I should have reasoned it out myself before this. He didn't want to live in hiding if you'd saved him because the world needed to believe he'd died. Give Potter a chance to step up when Voldemort gets reckless thinking there's no one strong enough to oppose him," Mad-Eye said, reasoning the situation out aloud.

"Something like that," Hermione confirmed. It was close enough to the truth that she didn't feel the need to clarify anything. Although it didn't account for Severus's role in everything. Probably for the best since she didn't know how much was safe to confess about his arrangement with Albus.

"And Snape?"

Then again…

Of course he'd pick up on that. She should have known. He was one of the best Aurors to ever exist. Not to mention he was suspicious as hell. Moody had never trusted Severus. He didn't believe a person could change. Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater.

It probably wouldn't matter even if he did know the whole truth regarding Severus's feelings for Lily. Nothing was strong enough motivation for Moody to fully trust a former enemy and traitor.

Should she tell him anyway? Severus had agreed to her telling Remus, but he'd not be happy with her if she told anyone else. Did it even matter? Mad-Eye would be gone in days. The only reason he was even asking now was to satisfy his own curiosity.

In the end, Hermione decided to keep Severus's secret and simply imply heavily that more was occurring behind the scenes. "There's a bigger picture to be seen. Do you really think Albus didn't manipulate everything into place beforehand? Surely you know him better than that."

"I do. Or I did," Mad-Eye said, sighing heavily. Albus had been the master of secrets, so it wasn't a stretch of the imagination to believe he had them surrounding the circumstances of his death.

"Then you trust me?" Hermione asked tentatively, hardly daring to believe it had been that easy, if devastating.

"Show us your arms then," Mad-Eye instructed, gesturing to where she had them tightly crossed over her chest, as though she were physically holding her beaten and battered heart inside.

"Why? We both know you can already see them, and you know the only marking on them is the word Mudblood – not a Dark Mark. I'd never work for a monster that bases a person's value on family lines over personal merit," Hermione said stiffly, insulted by the very suggestion of her being a secret Death Eater, even if she did understand the motivation behind his suspicions.

"Well said. Though I base judgments on the company one keeps as well," he said pointedly, referencing her well known friendship with Severus.

"As I said, all part of Albus's plan," Hermione stated, unwavering in her decision to stand by Severus always. "I did try to save him," she added, willing him to believe that she felt the headmaster's loss as acutely as he did.

A faint fluttering, soft as a tickling brush of feathers dusted her mind. Deliberately, Hermione directed the Auror to her memory of warning Albus that the ring was cursed. Mad-Eye withdrew almost immediately, not needing the whole of it to pay out to recall the blackened, dead appendage the headmaster had sported all year, or to realize that his death had been inevitable.

"You can see the full memories for yourself. That's why the Pensieve is out," Hermione said crisply, not appreciating that he'd entered her mind without permission.

Had he thought to catch her in a lie?

She was prepared to put all of her cards on the table if it was necessary. Anything to make him believe what she needed so that moving Harry went accordingly, short of allowing another mental violation. Though he probably felt warranted given his history.

"Unnecessary. That was a dangerous move, Granger. Careful, or one of these days you're going to make a mistake," he warned, scowling at her. It was clear that he found her to be needlessly reckless.

"Not that it mattered," she muttered, slumping against the wall. Reluctantly surrendering to Mad-Eye's decision not to be saved. He was right about it being his call. She needed to respect his decision.

"The fight you mentioned?"

"Needs to happen. You are the only casualty," she said simply, feeling the weight of defeat pressing heavily on her. How much more of this could she take? Eventually she'd stop bending and break instead. Or shatter. Shatter into so many tiny pieces that there'd be no possible way of repairing her.

"Need anything from me before I bow out of the fight too?" Moody asked a little more kindly than he'd ever sounded before, despite the dark humor of his actual words.

"Here's the Polyjuice for Harry's decoys," she said wearily, retrieving the two bottles she'd divided the potion into and left out for this very moment.

She handed the first over, watching what remained of his nose twitch slightly as he glanced pointedly at the one she still held, and asked, "And that one?"

"This one you're going to leave on the table for my younger self to knick," she informed him succinctly.

Moody opened one bottle, eyeing the contents then sniffing the bubbling grey goo to judge if it was the real thing. He tucked the first bottle in his cloak and treated the second to the same evaluation before asking, "It's like that, is it?"

For the first time since he arrived she felt the urge to grin unrepentantly, so she did.

Hesitantly, Hermione asked, "Do you plan on sharing what I've told you with Kingsley?"

"To be frank, no," he declared, scratching the stubble on his chin. The rough scraping filled the hollow emptiness of her ears.

His decision would mean she was left alone without an ally in the Order once more until after someone gave her a chance to explain. She'd have to mitigate the inevitable fallout on her own. Again.

"Why not?" she demanded indignantly.

"You know how I feel about meddling with time. You've done too much as it is," he reprimanded, looking at her like she was nothing more than a misbehaving child.

"They'll think I betrayed them – again," she stated aloud, pursing her lips to keep from saying anymore. It wouldn't matter even if she did.

"Explain after the fact – that's how it's supposed to be," he said, dismissing her concern. "Or better yet, leave the country until after the timeline catches up with itself. That way you can't make things worse."

"I won't abandon my friends," Hermione stated firmly, refusing to back down or budge in her stance.

She'd been tempted to do that very thing multiple times over the last two years. But she wouldn't. She didn't run away when she was needed. No matter what.

Besides, she'd proven that her presence was necessary to ensure things played out right.

"Then I'll save my breath pointing out all the reasons why it's your best move."

"Alastor, I wish…"

"I'm not one for goodbyes. Don't see much point in them," he said gruffly, shuffling his feet uncomfortably and eyeing the door as though longing to make a hasty exit.

"All right," she whispered, actually a little relieved that she didn't have to go through yet another one. At least he was offering her this out. She could pretend she'd see him again when he stopped by for her weekly reports on the giant movements in a few days.

"Wotcher, Hermione," Tonks greeted, hovering in the doorway, fingers gripped together tightly and protectively in front of her midriff.

For the first time that Hermione could remember Tonks didn't let herself inside the cabin when she arrived. If Hermione didn't know any better, she'd suspect that Tonks wasn't at all sure of her welcome in Hermione's home anymore.

"Tonks!" Hermione gasped, flinging her arms around the purple-haired witch in a giant hug.

"Not the reception I was expecting," she said, laughing loudly as she returned Hermione's enthusiastic greeting.

"Why ever not?" Hermione asked, momentarily forgetting in her excitement upon seeing her friend for the first time in weeks.

"Because…well… Merlin, Hermione, I don't know how to navigate any of this!" Tonks groaned, waving her hands about frantically. The wild movement knocked into the door, sending it swinging wide before it banged against the wall and ricocheted back.

Hermione chuckled despite herself at seeing the witch's familiar clumsiness.

"Me neither," she admitted, offering a timid half smile and shrug as the details suddenly washed over her with the force of Niagara Falls.

"I'm sorry," Tonks tried tentatively, pressing her hands over her stomach again.

"Don't be. I wanted this," Hermione said softly.

"All right," Tonks allowed, not arguing the point given all of their previous discussions and Hermione's assistance in helping it happen.

Silence descended on the pair. It was tense and awkward.

Hermione shifted, uncertain what to do or say. Her mind was unusually blank. All the questions that had been plaguing her for days had suddenly vanished, as though her mind was subconsciously afraid to hear the answers now that they were potentially right there for the asking.

"Please just ask. If I were in your shoes I'd have a million questions right now, but I don't know what you want to know, so ask me anything," Tonks offered, either because she was familiar with Hermione's habit of wanting to know everything or because she was somehow unconsciously reading Hermione's mind.

"I'm not sure I want to know," Hermione admitted quietly.

"It's all fair game," Tonks promised, one hand reaching out to grasp Hermione's. She stopped just short of actually touching her, sensitive to the mixed emotions Hermione was likely projecting.

"How is George handling it?" Hermione asked instead, wondering how he was managing to handle everything. "I haven't seen him since…."

"He's…all right – now," Tonks announced meaningfully before ducking her head.

"Now?" Hermione repeated, wondering what had happened to make Tonks look so shifty all of a sudden.

"Well, after he grilled me for every little detail… Let's just say he got really drunk and spent a number of hours proving his love and masculinity to me – enough that I was sore the next day," Tonks said, rolling her eyes, though her pleased smile and flush gave away how much she'd enjoyed his attentions.

"Oh," Hermione said dumbly, not knowing what else to say. She glanced around, searching for words. Eventually, she settled for saying, "I don't think that will work in my case."

She and Remus needed more than a wild night of passion. They'd never struggled in that area, and him proving he wanted her physically wasn't enough.

"No, I don't think so either," Tonks agreed, finally stepping fully into the house and taking a seat. Hermione felt bad for not inviting her in sooner, but she'd never needed to before. The whole situation had her on uncertain, uneven footing. "He needed the potion. We both did," Tonks said softly.

Relief coursed through Hermione, lifting a weight she'd not even realized was crushing her chest. She'd not known how much she needed to hear that until she did.

"How is Teddy?" she asked, glancing at Tonks's flat stomach, taking a regular breath for the first time.

It was surreal to think of the boy she knew currently growing inside of her friend and only sort of being real.

She'd been there for all three of Ginny's pregnancies, most of Val's, and all three of Fleur's. But she'd not seen Tonks again after she'd fled the wedding at the Burrow, so she didn't know how the witch changed in the coming months. It would be a new experience for both of them.

"I had my first check up. Things are progressing right on schedule. Thank Merlin for magic. Did you know Muggles probably wouldn't even know for sure they were pregnant at this point?" Tonks asked, shaking her head and sounding stunned.

"I'd heard something to that effect somewhere," Hermione murmured, smiling faintly.

Harry had been the one to mention it when Ginny was carrying James. He'd made Hermione get him dozens of books, and he'd spent the entirety of Ginny's pregnancy learning everything he could. Partly it had been his way of overcompensating for not having parents himself, but mostly it had been because he was so thrilled to start a family of his own.

By the time James had been born, Hermione was the only one left willing to hear him drone on and on about all that he'd learned. The rest were sick of hearing it. She was surprised to find she still remembered a fair amount.

"They don't think I'll miscarry," Tonks said timidly, sharing her confidential fear with her best mate. "It's still too early to know for sure."

"You won't," Hermione promised fiercely.

"I'm still worried. They went over the risks since the father is…well…I think I preferred not knowing," Tonks said, sighing heavily.

"I'm certain you understand Remus's reluctance better now," Hermione acknowledged, wondering if he'd been at the appointment. She could just imagine what a mess he currently was if he had.

Was that why they'd not been watching Malfoy Manor the day before?

Recalling their conversation, Hermione realized she'd been so distracted after Moody's visit that she'd never checked the parchment for his response to her dinner invitation.

She almost asked if he had, but before she could, Tonk asked, "I have to ask…why-are-you-mad-at-him-and-not-me?"

The words were all strung together and spoken so quickly that it took Hermione a few seconds to untangle them enough to understand.

"I'm not mad at either of you!" she insisted, alarmed that Tonks thought any such thing. Mad was definitely not what she was feeling. There weren't really words for what she was feeling.

"The wedding…he's staying with Sirius…you both look…," Tonks stuttered, gesturing about to fill in the blanks when words failed her.

"Miserable?" Hermione wagered, hazarding a guess.

"To put it bluntly," Tonks agreed, wincing.

"Things are complicated, and we aren't communicating," Hermions said simply, not really wanting to get into the details right then. "We just need a bit of time and for things to settle down for a bit to give us a chance to reconnect."

Harry was being moved the next day and Tonks needed to rest, not stress about fixing Hermione's frayed relationship.

"So it's not just about Teddy then," she guessed, knowing that was part of it even if Hermione wasn't admitting it.

Smiling slightly, Hermione agreed, "No, not just him."

"After Harry's settled in tomorrow maybe the four of us could have dinner together? We're all family, so I think we should all be part of any decision making that happens," Tonks suggested.

Hermione's stomach flipped at the suggestion. What would it be like seeing the two of them together now? Would she notice a change? And if she couldn't save Tonks, what role would she have in Teddy's upbringing? Particularly if Remus didn't survive either.

There had been vague references to what Tonks wanted to happen. But that had been before it was a reality.

"Hermione? You and Remus are going to work things out. You'll be Teddy's step-mum. I don't want you to feel like an outsider in this," Tonks said, correctly interpreting the expression she must have been wearing.

Step-mum.

Every time Teddy had called her mum over the years came to mind.

A tendril of warmth unfurled in her chest. The first seed of happiness about where they were at with things had finally taken root and blossomed large enough to eclipse all negative thoughts.

Then she recalled what was about to happen to George.

"Next week might be better," Hermione tried, worried George would be angry with her all over again. Or that Tonks would blame her. "You probably could use some rest in your condition after the excitement tomorrow."

"Oh," Tonks gasped, eyes going wide as she understood what Hermione wasn't saying.

She considered warning her. Would that change how she reacted? Potentially put her at risk if she responded differently?

Before Hermione could decide, Tonks stood abruptly, taking the decision out of Hermione's hands by announcing, "I better get home then."

As soon as she left Hermione checked her spelled parchment. Remus's reply was still waiting for her to read.

His message was clear, the personal meaning behind it even more so.

'Yes. Name the time and place, and I'll be there. Malfoy can stuff it.'

They were more important to him than any Order assignment.