AN: Hello, fanfiction and Harry Potter fans. I do not own Harry Potter, but feel free to enjoy this or hate it. If you enjoy it, please leave a lovely comment, if you hate it, then leave some constructive criticism, thanks!

Can You Take the Jump?

Chapter 49

He watched her walk towards the main square, her nose deep into the bouquet. He couldn't see most of her face, and the darkness of the evening covered any identifiable features, but he could tell who she was in an instant.

There was an air to Hermione Evans; irreplicable and undeniable. It wasn't just one thing about her, but everything in combination. She could change her whole appearance with Polyjuice, but he was certain she would be identifiable.

"I've been away for a while, haven't I?"

He barely managed to stifle a gasp, fearing he'd been found.

"I'm sorry, mummy's been busy. You see the world is changing, turning darker. This time I'm going to stop it so that what happened…to us, will never happen. Ever again."

His eyes were far better than an average wizard's at night, but he couldn't see anyone cloaked in the darkness. She was talking to herself in a way he'd never heard. He was ever so soft and gentle, her words, caressing the petals of the bouquet. It was loving and sweet like she was talking to a child.

"Mummy?" He thought to himself, watching her stop at the spot where the bouquet was always placed, only to find his flowers there instead.

She looked frightened. Terrified at the gesture he meant for kindness. Her neck snapped up, her eyes scanning the area only to fall on him.

"I've been waiting for you." He flinched at how creepy that sounded. "I've been meaning to talk to you all summer, but then James told me that Sirius went missing and my wolf…" Remus scratched his head. "Sirius is part of my pack. Moony didn't take it so well, so I thought it would be safer for you to not see me."

"You put the flowers?"

He nodded, wondering if he'd made a mistake.

"My parents came to Hogwarts over the summer to speak to Dumbledore because they were concerned about the sudden shift in my wolf's attitude during the full moon," he explained. "That's when I noticed that the flowers were dying, and a fresh one hadn't been placed in a while. I've been doing it ever since."

"How long have you known it was me?"

"I had an inkling since last year. Spoke to the flower shopkeeper too. It was just a guess."

"One hell of a guess."

Her body language screamed discomfort. He wanted to ask why she called herself mummy. What happened to her and these other people that she was vowing to never let happen again, but he looked at the distance between them. She was at least 5 meters away, her body rigid as if it was preparing to fight him or flee as fast as she could. If he asked, he would spook her and she would find a hole to hide, just like her fox-like nature.

"Why?" She asked suddenly.

"Why what?"

"Why put the flowers? You don't even know what they're for, so make the effort?"

He shrugged, "It's important to you."

A silence stretched between them so long that Remus was tempted several times to break but he succeeded to keep his mouth shut. She crouched to the floor, uncaring that her knees touched the cold cobblestone and placed her flowers next to his. He expected her to get up right away, but she stayed there, touching the flowers with the oddest expression on her face.

He didn't know it was possible, but she looked like she was both genuinely happy and genuinely sad. It wasn't a 50:50 type of deal, but 100% happy and 100% sad.

Tentatively, he walked towards their small memorial and crouched on the floor next to her.

"Beautiful, aren't they? Roses were his favourite."

"Whose?"

She seemed to think about her answer, "a friend." She said at last. "A dear friend. The type of friend people hope for, the type of friend people wish to be, and a friend I won't ever have again."

"Sounds divine."

"You know what I'm talking about," she gave him a knowing smile. "You've met your people, otherwise they wouldn't be your pack."

"How did he die?" His voice was barely above a whisper. He hoped yet did not expect a response.

"I killed him."

A chill slipped down his back. It was the way she spoke. There was no All the self-control he had until now disappeared. His cautious and gentle composure snapped. He inhaled sharply as his legs lost their balance, stumbling back and away from her. He stared at her with disbelief, searching for a lie, a joke, a falsity, but she was as steady as a rock. Her heartbeat remained steady, her eyes unwavering, her voice was clear without a waver or a stutter, not even a subtle change in her scent. No indication of dishonesty.

"If you love Sirius, keep him away, Remus."

…

Avery gasped awake, wand at the ready when he felt someone shake him awake.

"Wake up, she's calling us." Snape pushed his wand away from his face and was already walking out the door.

Avery placed a hand on his chest trying to calm his racing heart. He looked around the room to see the others, sleeping soundly, snoring with oblivious bliss.

"Lucky bastards," he muttered as he quickly got up from his bed and got dressed. He ran up the steps of his dorm to the common room to find that Severus and Regulus had already left without him.

"Bastards, all of them."

He rushed out of the common room to see the two of them in the distance, walking to the Quidditch pitch.

"Oi," he called out to them, only for them to turn and shush him harshly. Properly reprimanded, Avery clamped his mouth shut and ran towards them.

"You guys could have waited for me," he grumbled when he was next to them.

"We're already late because you slept through Hermione's call," Regulus lifted his enchanted coin. "I was intent on leaving, so you should be glad that Severus even bothered to wake you."

"I didn't think she'd call us on the first night back," Avery complained. "Especially after what happened at the Welcome Feast. It was an eventful evening, I thought she might want a break as well. Besides, doesn't she ever sleep?"

"No," Severus scoffed at the mere thought.

"Wasn't Evans known to sleep during classes?" Regulus asked curiously.

"She's not really sleeping," both boys answered simultaneously.

Scratching the base of his chin, Severus looked thoughtful when he said, "I think resting is a better term for what she's doing."

"More like thinking with her eyes closed," Avery countered.

"Does she ever…stop?" Regulus frowned. "She doesn't sleep, always thinks, trains, researching magic, and then in the morning she's in class like everyone else?"

The boys looked at each other, wondering the same thing. Who lived their lives as Hermione does? Why did Hermione live the way she does?

They exited the castle and entered the quidditch pitch when they saw Hermione training on her own with dummies and an obstacle course she'd made. Things chased you, flew at you, dropped from above you, ran into you, moving objects stopped right in front of you, hidden objects jumped out at you, and tried to sweep your feet off the floor. It was a ridiculously complicated setup that was bound to kill one of them at some point. However, none of the boys complained as they watched with awe at Hermione absolutely demolishing her own obstacle course. The way she moved was fluid, never losing her momentum or speed, like an experienced professional dancer freestyling on a stage. It never took her more than a second to respond to a change or an obstacle, despite her eyes focused on her target. None of her movements were based on luck, but pure skill. She moved when she needed to, dodged when necessary, and attacked when it was optimal, making it seem like the course was easy and effortless. They might have assumed Hermione was cheating, tricking them by charming the objects to never touch her if they didn't know her style of training; she never made them do anything she couldn't do.

It was a uniquely frustrating experience, her training. It all seemed unfathomably hard, pushing them until sweat fell like rain and leaving them gasping for air like their lungs were going to explode. She'd gotten used to their complaints and curses, but it wasn't like she sat around while they trained. She was running and pushing with them. She didn't just force them to train to her style of magic, but observed each of them, cultivating their individual talents and styles too.

Basically, it was fucking difficult, but it fucking worked. They all felt it, saw it, and experienced it, thus couldn't deny that her little death camp was fucking effective.

"I was practicing since you guys were running late." It was only when Hermione exploded the last target object did she turn and acknowledged their presence. "Without the help of Lucius and his family estate, I levelled up the training grounds," she pointed out unnecessarily.

"Evans," Avery sounded as nervous as he looked, "I might die."

Hermione flicked her wrist, closing and locking the door behind them. "Then it's a good thing I'm great at healing spells." The smirk she gave them left no room for argument. She'd fire spells at them if that was what it took to get them to start running.

"Objective of the course is to hit those red bludgers or take me out," she pointed at 3 red bludgers in the center of the field. "Those are your targets. You will need to hit those while also avoiding me and the rest of this quidditch pitches' traps and obstacles." Avery opened his mouth, but she cut him off. "I'll also be avoiding the obstacles. Ready?"

None of them replied.

"Go!"

…

Severus ran, getting further and further away from his target. Only after all targets are removed did the obstacle course stop. The boys had stuck to their usual strategy of divide and conquer, but it wasn't working as well as their previous times at Malfoy Manor. The quidditch pitch was too open, leaving them open with nowhere to hide and recover. The course was chaos with something happening at every angle and at every moment.

Within the first 5 minutes, Avery was out, being catapulted into the air when a stray bludger smacked into him at full speed. He thankfully had enough quick reflexes to cover himself with his arm, but the force of the bludger resulted in a broken bone, and a winded and vulnerable. Hermione was quick to take advantage of Avery's weakness, tagging him out instantly.

"If that bludger was an Avada, you'd be dead, Avery." She told him as placed a bone setting spell on his arm, then ran to chase down the other two Slytherins.

Regulus lasted 7 more minutes, only to trip thanks to dozens of quaffles falling onto him from above. He attempted to quickly regain his footing, but the quaffle hail didn't seem to stop.

"If those were big pieces of stone, or a storm of stray spells, or even trees falling around you, you'd be dead," Hermione told him as she shot her spell, marking him disqualified.

It has only twenty minutes, but Severus's eyes were stinging from the sweat falling into them and his throat felt like sandpaper. He'd only gotten one of the targets, but with the other boys out of the test, it was up to him to remove the three of them without falling into one of the traps and to Hermione. She limited herself by not allowing long-range spells, but it still felt hopeless.

There was only one logical solution to this problem. Severus cornered himself to the wall of the pitch, giving himself cover from the numerous obstacles and lessening the angle of open vulnerability in which he needed to protect himself. Most of the obstacles were not too far to bother him except for the occasional flying ones, but now his targets were too far, and Hermione was slowly approaching him.

"So you've chosen this option," Hermione assessed as she walked towards him like she was stalking her prey.

"You made it so that we only had this option."

"Untrue. That course is doable with some agility and endurance training," she raised her wand and got into her duelling stance. "My plan is to get you guys to be able to get those targets by the winter holidays."

"Ambitious."

"A Slytherin trait, if I recall correctly."

Severus readied himself for a duel with Hermione. He'd never won and didn't expect to win today either, but perhaps he'd have a stroke of luck.

They circled each other, occasionally avoiding objects flying at them that wanted to take them out.

Severus shot their paint spell at her a few times, but none hit, she was too quick, reading his movements from a mile away. Hermione had yet to fire, baiting her time, waiting for him to fuck up.

"What happened between you and Black?"

"Nice attempt at a distraction," she ran towards him. Just as he shot another spell, she swerved to the left, dodging him, and shooting a spell of her own. He didn't even see it. He blinked, but when he opened his eyes, he was covered with hot pink paint.

"Fuck!"

"Next time you want to use a distraction, ask about Lily, since I know you care about her, I'd think that it's less of an obvious distraction."

She smirked.

"She turned to the boys on the bench, "Alright! Go clean up! Training's done for the night!"

…

"You should sleep," Harry nagged next to her as she poured through her books. The moon was high in the sky, lighting up the night.

"You're a hallucination, you sleep enough for the both of us."

"Untrue, since I'm a figment of your imagination. I don't get a break until you're on a break." He circled around her like a child wanting to play. "I used to pop up less when Sirius was around."

"Harry, don't."

"I'm not saying forget everything, but forgiving is an option too! You've punished the both of yourselves for long enough, don't you think? You're miserable without him."

"No," Hermione clenched her teeth and shook her head. "I'm miserable because you let your body get hijacked by a dark wizard and you killed my friends and family."

He was finally silent, but now her guilt stabbed her.

"I-I'm sorry."

"Do you think I tried?" Harry asked her quietly. "Do you think I tried fighting him off? Or do you think I just gave up the moment I killed Gin with my own hands. Do you think my soul's even there anymore?"

"I don't know. I hope you aren't though."

"If time is still moving in the future, what do you think the world we left behind is like?"

"Chaos, destruction, death, pain, misery…"

"Really?" Harry wondered. "Are we that important that the world would just…fall if we die?"

"Head of the DMLE and Head of the Aurors," she pointed at herself, then him. "The faces of the heroes of the second wizarding war? All the heros of the previous war, dead by your hands?"

"You don't think the world would have stood up against them regardless of the lack of our presence? What happened to good versus evil? Light versus dark?"

"I think that's idealistic. I think that at the end of the day, people only care if they themselves and their loved ones are alive. Think about it, if Voldemort hadn't killed your parents as a baby, would you fight the way you did? Would you risk everything that you did?"

"You did. You didn't have to, but you did. And you're doing it now."

"Yeah, I did and I am…" she stared into the eyes of her hallucination.

"Do you regret it?"

She looked down at her book, unable to answer her best friend. She was never good at lying to him. He could always see through her and in the end, she always told him the truth.

This time, Harry didn't push, leaving her alone.

The night passed and the sun was beginning to creep up the horizon. Neither of them had spoken a word for hours, but Harry didn't leave. He sat there with her, reading over her shoulder, or fiddling with his fingers and sitting by himself.

It would be sunrise soon, she would go on her run in 30 minutes, breakfast in an hour and a half, and the day would start all over again.

"I believe that if people get to live without having to fight and risk their lives, they will," Hermione told him. "But you believed that they'd fight no matter because they are good and want good to win. That's why I fought beside you. You inspired me."

She stretched her legs as she got up then sighed as she looked down at her best friend.

"I regret it. All the time, but I wouldn't change my choice even if I got another chance."

A small smile lit his face, reminiscent of the boy she met when she was 11 trying to catch his first chocolate frog.

"I miss you."

"I'm here."

Hermione walked right through him to go to her closet and pull out her trainers.

"No, you're not."

…

Hermione walked into Transfiguration, sliding into her normal seat at the very back of the classroom when someone knocked on their desk with their fist.

"Evans," Mulciber called out to her, pointing to the empty seat next to him. "Come sit with us."

She glanced at the Slytherins that sat around him, waiting expectantly for her. She turned her head towards the Gryffindors who stared. Those who'd been her friends or at least acquaintances, for the past 5 years.

Lily's eyes flickered back and forth between her and her previous bullies. Sirius's eyes stayed on her, boring into her. He looked skinny and sick.

"Miss Evans, will you be standing there all morning?" McGonagall walked through the teacher's entrance at the front of the class.

"No, professor," Hermione came down the steps and slid next to Mulciber, causing an eruption of whispers in the classroom.

"Is this chatter something I should know about?" McGonagall asked over the whispers with her iconic brow raised. The sounds died down, as everyone tried to avoid their strict teacher's eyes. "I thought not. You are sixth years, seniors in our institution. I expect all of you to act as role models for the rest of the students."

Making sure that her students got the message, she flicked her wrist to the board which wrote, "Nonverbal spells."

"Welcome to Advanced Transfiguration. Today's first lesson and the lessons onward will be tested for your N.E.W.T.S. Nonverbal spells will always be part of our lessons and from here on out we will be practicing all our spells nonverbally."

She walked to the front of the class and pointed her wand at her book, levitating it into the air.

"We are going to start with our first-year spells, by the end of the class, I hope to see each one of you master all beginner Transfiguration spells nonverbally. Begin!"

Rows of feathers appeared on everyone's desks.

"I can't believe we're starting with a levitation spell again," Mulciber murmured. "I thought we were done with this shit."

"Basics are important," Hermione pulled out her wand, only to make him flinch. Both of them froze at his reaction.

"Relax Mulciber," she whispered under her breath. "I didn't burst until I allowed myself to. One nonverbal levitation isn't going to make me…"

"Release the fucking demon you've got locked away inside?"

"I was going for a much less specific description, such as 'pop', but that works too."

Mulciber pulled out his wand and flicked his wrist exactly as he would if he was doing it verbally. As expected, the feather didn't lift.

"You're not thinking hard enough. Your wrist movements need to be bigger and you've got to mean it."

"Like you know what you're talking about," he scoffed.

Hermione lifted her wand and levitated the feather with ease, leaving him speechless. She put her arms on the table, then put her head down to sleep.

…

By the time lunch rolled around Hermione realized how different everyone was treating her. She was greeted by her fellow Slytherins, invited to sit with them, and asked questions about class and her day. Even when she was friends with Harry, she wasn't this popular.

"Merlin, Evans," Josephine Zabini walked with her to the Great Hall. "The black hair looks amazing on you, then again, Black always looked good on you."

Hermione couldn't help but let out a small laugh at her play on words.

"I heard he's like huge," Zabini whispered. "So? Is he?"

"If you're talking about Sirius's penis, we're not close enough, so I'm definitely not talking to you about that."

"Oh?" She giggled while linking her arm around Hermione's. "So if we get closer, that means I get to know all the details about Hogwart's Casanova?"

"I never knew you were so sociable, Zabini. Besides, Sirius got around before me, I'm sure you can get that kind of information from someone else."

"Those girls lie. Make hyperboles. Make the Gryffindor Black much more obsessed about them than he actually was. But you? You dated the infamous Sirius Black for a whole year and look at him now, he can barely eat without crying."

Hermione glanced at the Gryffindor table to see Sirius pushing his food around on the plate.

"Thank you, Josephine, for your wonderful insight, but I think you should go to your seat now." She nodded her head down the table where the empty seat for Zabini was, lower than Hermione's seat.

Zabini's brilliant smile faltered.

Hermione sat down across from Regulus. Mulciber talked to her, Rosier made a joke at his expense, then checked her reaction to see if she laughed. Snyde smacked the table and then gave her the cutting knife, allowing her to take the next piece of the ham. A silent sign that she was one of the Elite.

She watched them act as if she belonged there. Like she'd been there the whole time. These were the people that beat her, laughed at her, and took pleasure in her misery. At that time, she desperately wanted to fit in so that they'd stop using her as a punching bag, but looking at these idiots around her, she felt so underwhelmed by their mediocracy. Those years of beatings and pain felt so meaningless now.

"Actually, I'm not so hungry," she took the utensils and walked down the table and gave it to a 1st year she didn't know. The kid took it with her mouth agape.

Fuck their traditions. Fuck them.

…

"How is my little monster doing?" His cold voice slithered in the dark.

"No reports have come in about her making any attempts to contact you, my lord." Lucius's knees were starting to hurt from his kneeling position on the marble floor. "But she's made quite an impression on the other Slytherins this year."

"Ah, yes. Fitting in, that is quite important at that age if I remember clearly." He seemed to recall those years. "But it does not excuse her silence. I gave her time to recuperate. Have I not been generous, Lucius?"

"Most generous, my lord."

"Maybe the child requires a little reminder of the promises she made."