A/N: This chapter and the next one are both really important, as well as
really long. Please, if you read this, review. I just want to know how
I'm doing. And if you have any ideas for fun stuff I could put in, e-mail
me at bonbonzai@animail.com If there is something in my story you really
don't like, tell me. If you want me to read your story (G to PG-13) tell
me, and I'll read it. Also, I try to keep everyone in character, but
sometimes they have a good reason for not being. Tell me if I mess up too
badly. Also, thanks to Kelly, my poster, and Rheanna, who betad this
chapter. And thanks to gaelicchick for writing a great story and sort of
giving me the idea for another one I'm working on.
Disclaimer: The characters are almost entirely not mine, they belong to the great Jo Rowling. Most bits of plot you find are, though. I forgot to disclaim the Beatles in the previous chapters, but I obviously don't own them either. And I don't own Star Wars either, though I'm not sure if it really matters or not.
Chapter 5-Day One
Draco was awoken in the middle of the night by a scream from Hermione's room. Muttering angry thoughts about her, he dashed through her door without bothering to put on slippers or a dressing gown. He quickly lit his wand and pulled back her bed curtains. What he saw shocked him. The sheets were lying in a twisted heap at the foot of the bed. Hermione was wearing a sweat-soaked camisole and shorts, and was shouting at some invisible foe in her sleep.
"No, you can't take him! You don't understand; he's not like them! He's good! NO!" but the enemy seemed to pay her no heed. A moment later, her angry face crumbled. "I love him." She fell to her side, crying for her lost love. Draco's indifferent and annoyed facade broke as he clambered onto the bed.
He picked her up and adjusted her so that she was leaning against his chest, his arms supporting her. He whispered soothingly, "I'm here, 'Mione. Don't cry. I'm right here." He sang the same song from on the train earlier, and Hermione's sleeping figure slowly calmed down and cried itself out. When she seemed at last to have relaxed, he propped a pillow on the headboard and leaned back against it.
He had decided to wait a few minutes before leaving; it would be dumb to startle her into waking just as she had finally calmed down. He rubbed the ring on her finger with the pad of his thumb. 'Glad to see that there, though it's not like you'll get rid of it that easily. I expect Potter and Weasel will try to convince you to take it off. I do need to show you what it does sometime.'
Though he had intended to slip out quickly, he had forgotten to take into account his own drowsiness and the comforting pressure of a soft, warm body lying against his own. He soon drifted off to sleep, his arms wrapped around Hermione.
The two of them slept that way very peacefully. No dreams or screams interrupted their rest until-
"Ms. Granger! Mr. Malfoy! I cannot believe this! Not only is it very strictly forbidden," Professor McGonagall yelled, waking them both, "but you two of all people. I cannot believe the Head Boy and Girl . . . Report to Professor Dumbledore's office immediately after breakfast, both of you!"
McGonagall stormed out of the chamber, leaving a rather nervous Draco to deal with a furious, and slightly confused, Hermione. "What is going on here? You're going to get me expelled!" she finally spat out menacingly.
Draco was resisting the urge to run somewhere and hide in the only way he knew how, rebuilding walls. He would be strong, and would not show any intimidation. "A lot more than I want to know, that's for sure." Then he leered at her. "For heaven's sake, Granger, first night back? Couldn't you have let me settle in a little?"
It took every ounce of self-control Hermione possessed not to punch him in the face, but she made due with shoving him out her door and slamming it behind him. As much as she wanted to burst into tears, she had a lifetime of practice restraining emotions. It only took a glance in the mirror to let her see that, whatever had gone on the night before, in spite of the beauty charm, she was worse off for it. Still huffing, she changed into her bathrobe and grabbed a towel, before stomping through the study and through the door in the back of the room.
Draco, knowing what was best for himself, ran to his own room as soon as her door shut. He quickly changed into plain work robes, and shoved his books into his school bag. With a quick peek to make sure the study was empty, he dashed out of his room and down to the Great Hall. Once he got past the first flight of stairs, he slowed down a bit.
Thinking back on what had happened the night before, he realized what he had done was rather daft, and could easily see how someone else might suspect something had happened, that he had done something. He shuddered at the thought. Of course there was a lot he had done, things that he could never tell anyone, but he was still a virgin. And Hermione-that made him wince-sure, the spell made her gorgeous, dead sexy even, but he pitied the idiot who wanted her for her body. There was so much more to her than looks. By the time he had reached the Great Hall and eaten a solitary breakfast, his Malfoy facade had come back down. He had meant to owl Dumbledore about her this morning, if only McGonagall hadn't come in.
Hermione enjoyed a good shower, and reached the Great Hall in fresh work robes with her bag about twenty minutes before breakfast ended. An owl came by to deliver her Daily Prophet, which she shoved distractedly in her school bag. She grabbed a quill and parchment and scribbled a quick note. Soon a school owl flew by with her schedule, and she carefully tied her note to its leg.
Her schedule read much as it always had. She still had one more class then everyone else. [A/N: Study of Ancient Runes, and no, I don't know how she did it without a time turner, but I don't think I'll have her use it] They had replaced Astronomy with a dueling class, presumably because they realized that the only people who used astronomy were the divinators. So she got up, and picked up her bag, leaving her dishes for the house elves.
She was headed outside for Care of Magical Creatures, her first class, when she remembered the summons from earlier that morning. Mumbling about what she'd like to do to Draco Malfoy right then [A/N: Not like that, you sick-minded weirdos] she turned around and headed back toward Dumbledore's office. "Blood pop!" she barked at the gargoyle, the first thing that had come to her mind. She cringed in mild disgust when it jumped aside, but entered and rode the stairs up anyway.
"Come in, Ms. Granger," Dumbledore's soft voice opened the door. He was sitting behind his desk, and beckoned her to the unoccupied of two chairs in front of it. A pale hand rested on the arm of the other one, and Hermione silently groaned when she recognized it. 'Please not him. I don't want to sit next to him. I don't want to look at him, or think about him either.'
"Mr. Malfoy and I were just discussing the events of last night. I will need to ask you a few questions. Has anything out of the ordinary happened in the last few days?"
"Yes."
"Tell me."
She told him about finding the chest, her dreams, Draco's odd behavior, and waking up that morning. She skipped over a few awkward topics, but he didn't seem to notice.
"And nothing of an inappropriate nature occurred between the two of you last night?"
"No, Headmaster. May I leave?"
"Yes, you are excused."
So she got up, leaving Draco. She took her bag and headed down to Hagrid's hut where the Care of Magical Creatures class was starting. Charlie had just stepped out from behind it holding a brilliant red and gold bird on his arm. As in the previous years, Gryffindor and Slytherin were together. Harry and Ron were there already, but Hermione didn't really feel like talking to them. She took a seat on the fence a few feet apart from the class.
"Hullo, Fawkes!" Harry cried, and the bird majestically glided over and landed on his shoulder. Charlie began the lesson, which was on the phoenix. Hermione whispered a spell to her quill so it would take notes for her and opened the textbook on her lap. Her mind soon began to drift off, and she stared into space, thinking.
Draco was still in Dumbledore's office. "Mr. Malfoy, what was it you were about to say before Ms. Granger came in?"
"Well, Professor, though Hermione is nice, and rather comfortable to sleep with, is there anything you can do about these dreams? It doesn't seem that it would be very healthy for either of us is her nightmares were to continue with this consistency."
"I am sorry, Mr. Malfoy, but in this case I do not think there is anything I can do. Her dreams seem to be of such a degree of clarity that I must assume they are warnings from her future self."
"So why can't we prevent them?"
"If her future self considers them important enough events to tell her about, there must be some sort of danger that her knowing about will save her from. However, as she is only protected from the danger when your conscious presence interrupts her dreams, I can only assume that they are warning for both of you."
"I'm not sure I understand, Professor."
"What this means for you is that you are meant to be protecting her. I can't allow you to give up helping her, because it would seem you are destined to save her life."
Draco stopped there, a quizzical, surprised expression on his face. "Save her life? I only stopped hating her a few weeks ago. And that was only because-"
"Needless to day," Dumbledore interrupted, "All things happen for a purpose. I need to tell you something. You were not the first choice for Head Boy. We were having a difficult time deciding, and so we asked the assistance of the centaurs. They insisted that you must be Head Boy alongside Ms. Granger. Centaurs do not often give advice that clear, and we were impelled to follow it."
"So how will I know what to do?"
"As to that, Mr. Malfoy, my best advice is to try to stay close to her when you can. In the event of future incidents, I will warn the staff about what is going on between the two of you. However, you must tell Hermione."
"So there will be no punishment?"
"No, I can't punish you for trying to help a fellow student. This is a situation I haven't encountered before, and I have to hope I am making the right decision. I am putting my complete trust in you. Please do not give me reason to regret that."
Draco left and slowly walked to the front of the building, out to where the Care of Magical Creatures class was gathered. He saw Hermione sitting on the wooden fence a few feet away from the rest of the class, and gathered up his courage to go talk to her. 'She looks so adorable when she does that.'
Her ankles were crossed and she was absent-mindedly rocking backed and forth as her legs swung. Her quill was moving across a piece of parchment on its own, and she raised her hand and answered a question without even thinking about it. Despite the open bok on her lap, he could tell her mind was miles away and her eyes were staring unfocusedly on some point above the castle.
"Ah, Mr. Malfoy, I presume?" Professor Weasley asked jokingly.
Draco muttered something and rolled his eyes.
"I'll take that as a yes. Why're you late?"
"I was speaking with Professor Dumbledore, Wease-Professor."
"You're just in time to catch the end of the lesson. We're learning about the phoenix."
Cursing under his breath, Draco walked over to the open space right next to the professor. Soon after he got there, the bird began to sing, leaving the class in an awed silence, just listening. Hermione seemed to hear it as well, and cocked her head to the side with a distant look that made Draco wonder what she was thinking about [A/N: I'll never tell. Bwa ha ha ha ha! Sorry.]
After it stopped, the whole class seemed to wait, almost reverently. "Class dismissed," Professor Weasley said quietly.
Harry and Ron headed over to Hermione, but Charlie just told them to move along. The rest of the class left, and Draco was on his own way over to Hermione, but Charlie managed to get there first. He hopped onto the fence beside her, and Draco headed back up to the castle on his own to dump the extra books in his room during break.
"Hermione? Hermione, love, class is over." She didn't seem to hear him. 'She's lovely. If I just-right now-no one would know-STOP THAT! Charles Weasley, you know better! Get your mind out of the gutter! She's almost ten years younger than you! And besides, she is a student and you are her teacher! Not to mention the fact that your brother's in love with her.'
"Ms. Granger!" He shouted at her, in a frighteningly recognizable imitation.
"Yes, Professor Snape?" she gasped, bringing her eyes back into focus and slamming the book shut.
"Ah, relax. It's just me, Charlie Weasley. Are you all right? You seemed a little distracted in class today. Though you obviously aren't in need of a phoenix lesson. I think you managed to correctly answer all of my questions in your sleep."
"Hmm?"
"I suggest you wake up now, dearie," he said, picking her up and setting her on her feet. "Class ended ten minutes ago." He laughed at her still-blank expression and sent her on her way with a gentle nudge in the direction of the castle.
Hermione was all the way back to the castle doors before she had managed to get her head back into focus. She suddenly remembered the note she had written that morning, and dashed off to Professor Lupin's classroom. She felt a little guilty as she walked in.
"Hermione? Is it customary to be late for your own meeting?" he began, but stopped when he saw the look in her face. "Sorry. What's wrong?" he asked, taking a seat on top of one of the double desks and patting the other side, inviting her to join him. She did, and began to pour out (disregarding the rescue incident) the events of the last two days.
". . . and this morning I woke up and Professor McGonagall was yelling at me and Draco Malfoy was in my bed!" She burst into tears and buried herself in his chest. From years of experience (Lily had done the same thing) he knew what to do: just hold her, slowly stroke her hair, and most importantly don't say anything until she cried herself out.
Hermione was there a long time, releasing all the pent up emotions she had had to deal with the last few days. 'She's gorgeous. Like Lily. And she's so smart. That bloody bastard Malfoy, if he does anything to my Hermione I will kill him! What was he doing in her bed?! I will never let anyone hurt her. It feels so good to have her in my arms. I just want to hold her here forever-STOP THAT! Remus Lupin, you know better! This girl is here because you can give her a shoulder to cry on! She is twenty years younger than you. She could be your daughter! It doesn't matter what she looks like, or what happened back then. She's not Lily. You are a grown man, control yourself!'
Soon Hermione's sobs dried out. She sat up and conjured herself a wet rag. After wiping her face, she whispered "Restoratio," and her skin returned to normal. Only then did Remus really notice how much she looked like Lily Evans had. Except the eyes were different. They were . . .
A memory flashed back to him, and he blanched and attempted to hide it. "Hermione, I'll help you in whatever way I can, but the only way for you to figure out what happened is to ask Draco."
"Are you absolutely sure? I really don't want to talk to him if I don't want to."
"It's the only way. Ask nicely, don't make it sound like you're accusing him. And just-where did you get that necklace?" He asked, seeing it for the first time.
"I found it over the summer. It was in a box in the attic. Why do you ask?"
A frightening confirmation reached his mind. 'Well, at least now I have an excuse. And a reason to stay away.' "No reason. It just seemed a little-no reason." He sighed. "Hermione, why don't I just write you a note and send you along to your next class. You'll be all right?"
She nodded.
"Where are you going?"
"Herbology. Thanks for listening, Professor."
"Anytime, Hermione. You'd better hurry on to class now." She left, smiling, her problems at least temporarily dealt with. His, on the other hand, were just beginning.
'How am I going to live through this year? It's been hard enough seeing 'James' the last four years. I'm not sure I can deal with 'Lily' too, especially not when-I can't tell her.'
'She'll find out on her own; she's a smart girl. She found out our other secret.'
'You're right. I have to tell her. I should tell her, especially before she finds out. She'd never forgive me if she found out on her own.'
So he wrote out a note on a slip of parchment and carried it off to the owlery before he could change his mind.
Meanwhile, Hermione had just found her class in the last greenhouse. "Sorry I'm late, Professor Sprout. I was speaking with Professor Lupin. Here's my note." She slipped in between Harry and Ron, who were so busy filling small pots with earth they hadn't noticed her come in.
"Hey, what are we doing?" Her soft whisper caught both of their attentions. Harry answered first.
"This year, we're supposed to be starting our own herb gardens to have once we are out on our own."
"Ooh, great idea. So what are we doing?"
"Filling pots with dirt, putting protection charms on them, and mixing in growth potion." Ron spoke up.
"That sounds fun," she replied sarcastically, grabbing herself a stack of little pots and beginning her work.
Surprisingly, they enjoyed themselves greatly, laughing and joking through the rest of the class, avoiding all her 'issues'. When the pots were finished and they were all washed up, it was time for lunch. Regretfully, Hermione had to return to the staff table, and they went to eat with the rest of the Gryffindors. She ate quickly, and left as soon as she had finished to exchange her books for Transfiguration and History of Magic. She met up with her friends outside of Professor McGonagall's classroom. They went in together and grabbed a table for themselves before the rest of the class could get in.
Harry, who was still pretending to be Hermione's boyfriend, grabbed her around her waist and was attempting to pull her onto his lap. They were both laughing hard enough that they didn't notice the other students come in, but McGonagall was not in as accepting a mood as the rest of the class.
"James, Lily, if you two can't control yourselves, I will be forced to separate you and deduct five house points each," she snapped.
Harry and Hermione froze, mostly out of confusion. Hermione tentatively raised her hand. "Yes, what is it?"
"Um, pardon me for correcting, Professor, but we're Harry and Hermione."
"Yes, of course. From the back you do look quite a bit like James and Lily, you know. Forgive my mistake. Today we will begin transforming animals into other animals."
Had the students not had her for six years, they might have eagerly grabbed their wands. However, they knew that no new study in transfiguration came without extensive notes beforehand. By the end of the class, they were still deep in the abstract notes.
They stood up together to proceed to History of Magic. "She's right, you know," Harry said, once they were mostly alone in a corridor.
"What?"
"McGonagall was right. Whatever that beauty spell was supposed to do, it made you look almost exactly like my mum."
"You must have had a pretty mum, then. That's all."
In History of Magic, Professor Carter welcomed then all. Professor Binns had been called to be a Ministry historian the year after Hogwarts severed itself from the Ministry. Professor Carter was a young man, and thought attractive by most of the witches. At least he was more lively than Binns had been, and had less of a fascination with goblins.
"This year," he said, once the seventh year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws had seated themselves. "We will be learning something not often taught to students your age. However, given recent events, Dumbledore thought it a good idea. We will be learning the history of the Dark Arts."
An amazed silence enveloped the class. They got out their books and spent the rest of the class silently taking notes. As usual, Hermione answered all questions but no one bothered her about it anymore. Everyone was awake and attentive, a new record for a Hogwarts History of Magic class.
After class, Hermione accompanied Harry and Ron into the Gryffindor common room. They talked a bit, and went down together to an early dinner, after which she went on alone to the Head room. The painting swung open at her approach, and she walked straight over to her desk. She was getting her books out when a voice behind made her jump.
"Hermione? Are you all right? I didn't mean to startle you."
"Oh, it's you. I have a bit of work to do, but if you're free I need to talk to you later."
"Well, could your homework wait? This is kind of important."
"It better be," she said quietly, moving to her red armchair.
"Thank you," Draco said, pulling his own chair over closer to hers so they could talk better. "Hermione, I know you've been having some odd dreams lately."
"Were you listening to what I said in Dumbledore's office this morning?"
"No, no, he put a sound block charm on me. But you sort of talk in your sleep. And moan, and scream, and cry . . ."
"Oh. And where do you come into all of this?"
"Well you did fall asleep right in front of me on the train yesterday. It sounded like you had hurt yourself, so I just helped you rest a little. Then we were nearing the station, and you didn't wake up when I shook you, so I just stood you on your feet."
"Right. And last night?"
"You screamed, it woke me up. I came in, and you were yelling at something, then you started crying. I-" here he paused, and got quieter. "I calmed you down, but I didn't want you to wake up and see me. I intended to only wait a few minutes to assure you were back to sleep safely, but I accidentally fell asleep."
"What do you mean by 'calmed me down'?" she asked skeptically.
"I rubbed your back. And last night I just held you and whispered softly. And-" he stopped suddenly, embarrassed.
"And?"
"Nothing, Gra-nothing. You were in trouble, I helped you. Physical contact provides a primal calming sensation."
"Right, of course. I'm just old enough to get suspicious when I wake up with a guy in my bed, you understand."
"Of course. But really, Hermione, don't you trust me?"
A week before she would have just said "No," and laughed sarcastically, but she held herself back. She looked at him for a minute, and stared intently in his eyes. He knew the only chance he had of her believing him was maintaining eye contact. She was about to give in when logic took over.
"Should I?"
The question surprised him. "Dumbledore does."
That was the best thing he could have said for his cause. "So will they just get Snape to make me a potion to stop the dreams? I don't mean to make trouble for you."
"Unfortunately, no. Dumbledore seems to think they are warnings from your future self, and that having them is the only way to protect you."
"And you?"
"Are the protector, so it would seem."
"Where did that come from?"
"You only seem to attain comfort in these dreams with the infiltration of my conscious physical presence, therefore it is protecting you."
"Sorry if I'm a little slow. What is your part in this?"
"Apparently saving your life." He continued, ignoring the shocked expression on her face. "So I am to stay close to you, and continue rescuing you from your subconscious, or future as it may be."
"Oh. And Dumbledore trusts us-" she fell silent but blushed scarlet, revealing her meaning.
"Is that all you ever think about? Yes, he does, enough to inform the staff of our situation. Besides, I believe I have enough control over my hormones to resist taking advantage of our innocent Head Girl."
Hermione's mind was running wild. 'What would my mother think if she knew I was sleeping with a guy? What would Harry and Ron think, or Mrs. Weasley? Well, I just won't tell them, that should be easy enough. Only the teachers can find us, and they know and are obliged to allow it. Wait- what do I think? Sure, he's attractive, and has been acting decently, but until yesterday we hated each other. Can we stay close without killing or- no, stop that. You have checked emotions for seventeen years. Nothing will happen.'
She was about to say something when a tapping at the window ended her silent monologue. There was a brown school owl outside. She jumped up and let it in. It came to a landing on the windowsill. She untied the note from its leg, and it flew off.
Hermione shut the window while opening the small parchment.
Hermione-
I need to speak with you. It is very important, but I didn't
want to tell you earlier. At eight o' clock, this letter will turn into
a portkey and bring you to my chamber.
-Professor Remus Lupin
Stuffing it into the pocket of her robe, she turned her attention back to Draco.
"Draco, thank you for telling me. I do trust you, and I am most appreciative of your helping me. However, I do have some homework I need to do, so we will have to talk more later."
Draco nodded assent, and left to catch the end of dinner. She went to her desk and had gotten most of her work done with a few minutes to spare, and so went back to her room and tidied herself up to avoid disappearing in front of Draco.
She had just grabbed the parchment when she felt a jerk behind her navel. There was a momentary swirl of blackness, then she found herself in a plain chamber with a four-poster, desk, dresser, bookshelf, and a smiling Professor Lupin in an armchair. She fell backwards and found herself in an identical one.
"Hermione, nice of you to join me."
"Professor, you needed to talk to me about something?"
"Quite a few things, actually. And I don't imagine any of them will be very easy for either of us. First, has anyone told you you bear a striking resemblance to Lily Evans?"
"A few, but I believe it has something to do with the beauty spell."
"I have something to say about that as well, but it will wait. Hermione, where exactly did you get that necklace?"
"It was in a small trunk of my baby things in the attic of our summer house. Why?"
"It was Lily's. I gave it to her. I paid Severus to make it." He continued quickly, before she could reason the rest out for herself. "The only way the beauty spell could make you look like her would be if the potential to look like her was already in you. It was counteracting an older spell."
"You mean that she-"
"Lily Evans was your mother."
That had been on the threshold of her mind, but she hadn't allowed herself to think it.
"There's something else," he said, conjuring a mirror. "Look." He held it out a little so it showed the two of them clearly. It took her a minute to realize what he meant. "Our eyes," she whispered.
"You mean-" she was interrupted by his nod.
"But how?"
"There was a sort of love triangle among the three of us back in school. After graduation, Voldemort was nearing the height of his power. The wizarding world was in the middle of a war. Lily's parents, fearing for her safety, attempted to force her to abandon wizardry. James's parents were rich, and rather proud, and wouldn't allow him to marry a Muggle born of no consequence. Six months later, I was able to rescue her from her family and we eloped. Not long after, we realized that the two of us weren't meant to be together. We got a divorce, and no one saw or heard of her until she emerged the next October as Mrs. Lily Potter. During that time, I assume she became pregnant, gave birth to you, and gave you up for adoption to some Muggle school friends of hers."
"Profe-sorry, habit. Father-"
"Just call me Professor, Hermione. We married secretly, and you are the only person to know about it. I don't think she even told James."
"All right. Professor, could I go back to my room now? This is rather sudden, and I'm a little overwhelmed."
"Of course. But Hermione, it's nine o' clock. The portraits are locked without the teacher's key. Mind if I walk you back?"
"No, I guess not."
They walked back to the Head room in silence, and found Draco waiting in front of the portrait, locked out. Lupin opened the picture, and let both of them in. Draco, somehow sensing her mood, just went quietly into his own room. Hermione fell across the couch.
'I really need to talk to someone. This is a little much for me. I can't talk to Harry, he's my brother. I can't talk to Ron, he seems to think he's in love with me. I can't talk to Draco, or Dumbledore, or Mum and Dad. That's it!'
She got up and walked over to the fireplace, throwing in a pinch of green powder from a bag on the mantle. "Fifteen Godric's Hollow!"
A/N: What did everyone think? I told at least a few of my secrets here, and explained really why this can't turn into a Hermione/Harry or Hermione/Remus story. One hundred points to anyone who guessed Remus's secret before I told you. I'd like to apologize for what I did to Charlie Weasley, but I will explain everything, promise. Thanks enormously much to sherlockelly and green eyed lady. Go read their stories, if you have time. Please review!
To my reviewers-
Indus-Thank you. I'm not promising this will turn R/H, but we will see something about that in the future.
Jessica-Glad you like it. I will get more posted as soon as I can.
TigerWolf-Don't go getting into trouble with the librarian just to read this. But thanks for reading it anyway. Thanks for putting me with your favorites.
Nikole Kaylns/ChildofTheWolf-No! Not Mrs. Norris! Thanks much.
Milla Black-Sorry, for obvious reasons this wouldn't work as a Hermione/Remus. I'll see what I can do, though.
animagus-steph-Thank you. You are the only real multiple reviewer. I was a little nervous about the bathtub scene, but luckily there are glasses. I will put in as much Hermione/Harry as I can with them being related and all. They still flirt with each other some. In addition, I posted a H/H songfic, which you might like.
Linz-Okay. If this is posted as H/H, I'm really sorry. It wasn't supposed to be. How do you change that? I'm sorry, this story obviously now can't work as a H/H but I do have a songfic with them. Persephone is Draco's sister, and you will soon discover all of that plotline in a flashback that I have yet to type up. Like I told animagus-steph, I'll try to put in as much H/H as I can without it getting . . . questionable.
Disclaimer: The characters are almost entirely not mine, they belong to the great Jo Rowling. Most bits of plot you find are, though. I forgot to disclaim the Beatles in the previous chapters, but I obviously don't own them either. And I don't own Star Wars either, though I'm not sure if it really matters or not.
Chapter 5-Day One
Draco was awoken in the middle of the night by a scream from Hermione's room. Muttering angry thoughts about her, he dashed through her door without bothering to put on slippers or a dressing gown. He quickly lit his wand and pulled back her bed curtains. What he saw shocked him. The sheets were lying in a twisted heap at the foot of the bed. Hermione was wearing a sweat-soaked camisole and shorts, and was shouting at some invisible foe in her sleep.
"No, you can't take him! You don't understand; he's not like them! He's good! NO!" but the enemy seemed to pay her no heed. A moment later, her angry face crumbled. "I love him." She fell to her side, crying for her lost love. Draco's indifferent and annoyed facade broke as he clambered onto the bed.
He picked her up and adjusted her so that she was leaning against his chest, his arms supporting her. He whispered soothingly, "I'm here, 'Mione. Don't cry. I'm right here." He sang the same song from on the train earlier, and Hermione's sleeping figure slowly calmed down and cried itself out. When she seemed at last to have relaxed, he propped a pillow on the headboard and leaned back against it.
He had decided to wait a few minutes before leaving; it would be dumb to startle her into waking just as she had finally calmed down. He rubbed the ring on her finger with the pad of his thumb. 'Glad to see that there, though it's not like you'll get rid of it that easily. I expect Potter and Weasel will try to convince you to take it off. I do need to show you what it does sometime.'
Though he had intended to slip out quickly, he had forgotten to take into account his own drowsiness and the comforting pressure of a soft, warm body lying against his own. He soon drifted off to sleep, his arms wrapped around Hermione.
The two of them slept that way very peacefully. No dreams or screams interrupted their rest until-
"Ms. Granger! Mr. Malfoy! I cannot believe this! Not only is it very strictly forbidden," Professor McGonagall yelled, waking them both, "but you two of all people. I cannot believe the Head Boy and Girl . . . Report to Professor Dumbledore's office immediately after breakfast, both of you!"
McGonagall stormed out of the chamber, leaving a rather nervous Draco to deal with a furious, and slightly confused, Hermione. "What is going on here? You're going to get me expelled!" she finally spat out menacingly.
Draco was resisting the urge to run somewhere and hide in the only way he knew how, rebuilding walls. He would be strong, and would not show any intimidation. "A lot more than I want to know, that's for sure." Then he leered at her. "For heaven's sake, Granger, first night back? Couldn't you have let me settle in a little?"
It took every ounce of self-control Hermione possessed not to punch him in the face, but she made due with shoving him out her door and slamming it behind him. As much as she wanted to burst into tears, she had a lifetime of practice restraining emotions. It only took a glance in the mirror to let her see that, whatever had gone on the night before, in spite of the beauty charm, she was worse off for it. Still huffing, she changed into her bathrobe and grabbed a towel, before stomping through the study and through the door in the back of the room.
Draco, knowing what was best for himself, ran to his own room as soon as her door shut. He quickly changed into plain work robes, and shoved his books into his school bag. With a quick peek to make sure the study was empty, he dashed out of his room and down to the Great Hall. Once he got past the first flight of stairs, he slowed down a bit.
Thinking back on what had happened the night before, he realized what he had done was rather daft, and could easily see how someone else might suspect something had happened, that he had done something. He shuddered at the thought. Of course there was a lot he had done, things that he could never tell anyone, but he was still a virgin. And Hermione-that made him wince-sure, the spell made her gorgeous, dead sexy even, but he pitied the idiot who wanted her for her body. There was so much more to her than looks. By the time he had reached the Great Hall and eaten a solitary breakfast, his Malfoy facade had come back down. He had meant to owl Dumbledore about her this morning, if only McGonagall hadn't come in.
Hermione enjoyed a good shower, and reached the Great Hall in fresh work robes with her bag about twenty minutes before breakfast ended. An owl came by to deliver her Daily Prophet, which she shoved distractedly in her school bag. She grabbed a quill and parchment and scribbled a quick note. Soon a school owl flew by with her schedule, and she carefully tied her note to its leg.
Her schedule read much as it always had. She still had one more class then everyone else. [A/N: Study of Ancient Runes, and no, I don't know how she did it without a time turner, but I don't think I'll have her use it] They had replaced Astronomy with a dueling class, presumably because they realized that the only people who used astronomy were the divinators. So she got up, and picked up her bag, leaving her dishes for the house elves.
She was headed outside for Care of Magical Creatures, her first class, when she remembered the summons from earlier that morning. Mumbling about what she'd like to do to Draco Malfoy right then [A/N: Not like that, you sick-minded weirdos] she turned around and headed back toward Dumbledore's office. "Blood pop!" she barked at the gargoyle, the first thing that had come to her mind. She cringed in mild disgust when it jumped aside, but entered and rode the stairs up anyway.
"Come in, Ms. Granger," Dumbledore's soft voice opened the door. He was sitting behind his desk, and beckoned her to the unoccupied of two chairs in front of it. A pale hand rested on the arm of the other one, and Hermione silently groaned when she recognized it. 'Please not him. I don't want to sit next to him. I don't want to look at him, or think about him either.'
"Mr. Malfoy and I were just discussing the events of last night. I will need to ask you a few questions. Has anything out of the ordinary happened in the last few days?"
"Yes."
"Tell me."
She told him about finding the chest, her dreams, Draco's odd behavior, and waking up that morning. She skipped over a few awkward topics, but he didn't seem to notice.
"And nothing of an inappropriate nature occurred between the two of you last night?"
"No, Headmaster. May I leave?"
"Yes, you are excused."
So she got up, leaving Draco. She took her bag and headed down to Hagrid's hut where the Care of Magical Creatures class was starting. Charlie had just stepped out from behind it holding a brilliant red and gold bird on his arm. As in the previous years, Gryffindor and Slytherin were together. Harry and Ron were there already, but Hermione didn't really feel like talking to them. She took a seat on the fence a few feet apart from the class.
"Hullo, Fawkes!" Harry cried, and the bird majestically glided over and landed on his shoulder. Charlie began the lesson, which was on the phoenix. Hermione whispered a spell to her quill so it would take notes for her and opened the textbook on her lap. Her mind soon began to drift off, and she stared into space, thinking.
Draco was still in Dumbledore's office. "Mr. Malfoy, what was it you were about to say before Ms. Granger came in?"
"Well, Professor, though Hermione is nice, and rather comfortable to sleep with, is there anything you can do about these dreams? It doesn't seem that it would be very healthy for either of us is her nightmares were to continue with this consistency."
"I am sorry, Mr. Malfoy, but in this case I do not think there is anything I can do. Her dreams seem to be of such a degree of clarity that I must assume they are warnings from her future self."
"So why can't we prevent them?"
"If her future self considers them important enough events to tell her about, there must be some sort of danger that her knowing about will save her from. However, as she is only protected from the danger when your conscious presence interrupts her dreams, I can only assume that they are warning for both of you."
"I'm not sure I understand, Professor."
"What this means for you is that you are meant to be protecting her. I can't allow you to give up helping her, because it would seem you are destined to save her life."
Draco stopped there, a quizzical, surprised expression on his face. "Save her life? I only stopped hating her a few weeks ago. And that was only because-"
"Needless to day," Dumbledore interrupted, "All things happen for a purpose. I need to tell you something. You were not the first choice for Head Boy. We were having a difficult time deciding, and so we asked the assistance of the centaurs. They insisted that you must be Head Boy alongside Ms. Granger. Centaurs do not often give advice that clear, and we were impelled to follow it."
"So how will I know what to do?"
"As to that, Mr. Malfoy, my best advice is to try to stay close to her when you can. In the event of future incidents, I will warn the staff about what is going on between the two of you. However, you must tell Hermione."
"So there will be no punishment?"
"No, I can't punish you for trying to help a fellow student. This is a situation I haven't encountered before, and I have to hope I am making the right decision. I am putting my complete trust in you. Please do not give me reason to regret that."
Draco left and slowly walked to the front of the building, out to where the Care of Magical Creatures class was gathered. He saw Hermione sitting on the wooden fence a few feet away from the rest of the class, and gathered up his courage to go talk to her. 'She looks so adorable when she does that.'
Her ankles were crossed and she was absent-mindedly rocking backed and forth as her legs swung. Her quill was moving across a piece of parchment on its own, and she raised her hand and answered a question without even thinking about it. Despite the open bok on her lap, he could tell her mind was miles away and her eyes were staring unfocusedly on some point above the castle.
"Ah, Mr. Malfoy, I presume?" Professor Weasley asked jokingly.
Draco muttered something and rolled his eyes.
"I'll take that as a yes. Why're you late?"
"I was speaking with Professor Dumbledore, Wease-Professor."
"You're just in time to catch the end of the lesson. We're learning about the phoenix."
Cursing under his breath, Draco walked over to the open space right next to the professor. Soon after he got there, the bird began to sing, leaving the class in an awed silence, just listening. Hermione seemed to hear it as well, and cocked her head to the side with a distant look that made Draco wonder what she was thinking about [A/N: I'll never tell. Bwa ha ha ha ha! Sorry.]
After it stopped, the whole class seemed to wait, almost reverently. "Class dismissed," Professor Weasley said quietly.
Harry and Ron headed over to Hermione, but Charlie just told them to move along. The rest of the class left, and Draco was on his own way over to Hermione, but Charlie managed to get there first. He hopped onto the fence beside her, and Draco headed back up to the castle on his own to dump the extra books in his room during break.
"Hermione? Hermione, love, class is over." She didn't seem to hear him. 'She's lovely. If I just-right now-no one would know-STOP THAT! Charles Weasley, you know better! Get your mind out of the gutter! She's almost ten years younger than you! And besides, she is a student and you are her teacher! Not to mention the fact that your brother's in love with her.'
"Ms. Granger!" He shouted at her, in a frighteningly recognizable imitation.
"Yes, Professor Snape?" she gasped, bringing her eyes back into focus and slamming the book shut.
"Ah, relax. It's just me, Charlie Weasley. Are you all right? You seemed a little distracted in class today. Though you obviously aren't in need of a phoenix lesson. I think you managed to correctly answer all of my questions in your sleep."
"Hmm?"
"I suggest you wake up now, dearie," he said, picking her up and setting her on her feet. "Class ended ten minutes ago." He laughed at her still-blank expression and sent her on her way with a gentle nudge in the direction of the castle.
Hermione was all the way back to the castle doors before she had managed to get her head back into focus. She suddenly remembered the note she had written that morning, and dashed off to Professor Lupin's classroom. She felt a little guilty as she walked in.
"Hermione? Is it customary to be late for your own meeting?" he began, but stopped when he saw the look in her face. "Sorry. What's wrong?" he asked, taking a seat on top of one of the double desks and patting the other side, inviting her to join him. She did, and began to pour out (disregarding the rescue incident) the events of the last two days.
". . . and this morning I woke up and Professor McGonagall was yelling at me and Draco Malfoy was in my bed!" She burst into tears and buried herself in his chest. From years of experience (Lily had done the same thing) he knew what to do: just hold her, slowly stroke her hair, and most importantly don't say anything until she cried herself out.
Hermione was there a long time, releasing all the pent up emotions she had had to deal with the last few days. 'She's gorgeous. Like Lily. And she's so smart. That bloody bastard Malfoy, if he does anything to my Hermione I will kill him! What was he doing in her bed?! I will never let anyone hurt her. It feels so good to have her in my arms. I just want to hold her here forever-STOP THAT! Remus Lupin, you know better! This girl is here because you can give her a shoulder to cry on! She is twenty years younger than you. She could be your daughter! It doesn't matter what she looks like, or what happened back then. She's not Lily. You are a grown man, control yourself!'
Soon Hermione's sobs dried out. She sat up and conjured herself a wet rag. After wiping her face, she whispered "Restoratio," and her skin returned to normal. Only then did Remus really notice how much she looked like Lily Evans had. Except the eyes were different. They were . . .
A memory flashed back to him, and he blanched and attempted to hide it. "Hermione, I'll help you in whatever way I can, but the only way for you to figure out what happened is to ask Draco."
"Are you absolutely sure? I really don't want to talk to him if I don't want to."
"It's the only way. Ask nicely, don't make it sound like you're accusing him. And just-where did you get that necklace?" He asked, seeing it for the first time.
"I found it over the summer. It was in a box in the attic. Why do you ask?"
A frightening confirmation reached his mind. 'Well, at least now I have an excuse. And a reason to stay away.' "No reason. It just seemed a little-no reason." He sighed. "Hermione, why don't I just write you a note and send you along to your next class. You'll be all right?"
She nodded.
"Where are you going?"
"Herbology. Thanks for listening, Professor."
"Anytime, Hermione. You'd better hurry on to class now." She left, smiling, her problems at least temporarily dealt with. His, on the other hand, were just beginning.
'How am I going to live through this year? It's been hard enough seeing 'James' the last four years. I'm not sure I can deal with 'Lily' too, especially not when-I can't tell her.'
'She'll find out on her own; she's a smart girl. She found out our other secret.'
'You're right. I have to tell her. I should tell her, especially before she finds out. She'd never forgive me if she found out on her own.'
So he wrote out a note on a slip of parchment and carried it off to the owlery before he could change his mind.
Meanwhile, Hermione had just found her class in the last greenhouse. "Sorry I'm late, Professor Sprout. I was speaking with Professor Lupin. Here's my note." She slipped in between Harry and Ron, who were so busy filling small pots with earth they hadn't noticed her come in.
"Hey, what are we doing?" Her soft whisper caught both of their attentions. Harry answered first.
"This year, we're supposed to be starting our own herb gardens to have once we are out on our own."
"Ooh, great idea. So what are we doing?"
"Filling pots with dirt, putting protection charms on them, and mixing in growth potion." Ron spoke up.
"That sounds fun," she replied sarcastically, grabbing herself a stack of little pots and beginning her work.
Surprisingly, they enjoyed themselves greatly, laughing and joking through the rest of the class, avoiding all her 'issues'. When the pots were finished and they were all washed up, it was time for lunch. Regretfully, Hermione had to return to the staff table, and they went to eat with the rest of the Gryffindors. She ate quickly, and left as soon as she had finished to exchange her books for Transfiguration and History of Magic. She met up with her friends outside of Professor McGonagall's classroom. They went in together and grabbed a table for themselves before the rest of the class could get in.
Harry, who was still pretending to be Hermione's boyfriend, grabbed her around her waist and was attempting to pull her onto his lap. They were both laughing hard enough that they didn't notice the other students come in, but McGonagall was not in as accepting a mood as the rest of the class.
"James, Lily, if you two can't control yourselves, I will be forced to separate you and deduct five house points each," she snapped.
Harry and Hermione froze, mostly out of confusion. Hermione tentatively raised her hand. "Yes, what is it?"
"Um, pardon me for correcting, Professor, but we're Harry and Hermione."
"Yes, of course. From the back you do look quite a bit like James and Lily, you know. Forgive my mistake. Today we will begin transforming animals into other animals."
Had the students not had her for six years, they might have eagerly grabbed their wands. However, they knew that no new study in transfiguration came without extensive notes beforehand. By the end of the class, they were still deep in the abstract notes.
They stood up together to proceed to History of Magic. "She's right, you know," Harry said, once they were mostly alone in a corridor.
"What?"
"McGonagall was right. Whatever that beauty spell was supposed to do, it made you look almost exactly like my mum."
"You must have had a pretty mum, then. That's all."
In History of Magic, Professor Carter welcomed then all. Professor Binns had been called to be a Ministry historian the year after Hogwarts severed itself from the Ministry. Professor Carter was a young man, and thought attractive by most of the witches. At least he was more lively than Binns had been, and had less of a fascination with goblins.
"This year," he said, once the seventh year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws had seated themselves. "We will be learning something not often taught to students your age. However, given recent events, Dumbledore thought it a good idea. We will be learning the history of the Dark Arts."
An amazed silence enveloped the class. They got out their books and spent the rest of the class silently taking notes. As usual, Hermione answered all questions but no one bothered her about it anymore. Everyone was awake and attentive, a new record for a Hogwarts History of Magic class.
After class, Hermione accompanied Harry and Ron into the Gryffindor common room. They talked a bit, and went down together to an early dinner, after which she went on alone to the Head room. The painting swung open at her approach, and she walked straight over to her desk. She was getting her books out when a voice behind made her jump.
"Hermione? Are you all right? I didn't mean to startle you."
"Oh, it's you. I have a bit of work to do, but if you're free I need to talk to you later."
"Well, could your homework wait? This is kind of important."
"It better be," she said quietly, moving to her red armchair.
"Thank you," Draco said, pulling his own chair over closer to hers so they could talk better. "Hermione, I know you've been having some odd dreams lately."
"Were you listening to what I said in Dumbledore's office this morning?"
"No, no, he put a sound block charm on me. But you sort of talk in your sleep. And moan, and scream, and cry . . ."
"Oh. And where do you come into all of this?"
"Well you did fall asleep right in front of me on the train yesterday. It sounded like you had hurt yourself, so I just helped you rest a little. Then we were nearing the station, and you didn't wake up when I shook you, so I just stood you on your feet."
"Right. And last night?"
"You screamed, it woke me up. I came in, and you were yelling at something, then you started crying. I-" here he paused, and got quieter. "I calmed you down, but I didn't want you to wake up and see me. I intended to only wait a few minutes to assure you were back to sleep safely, but I accidentally fell asleep."
"What do you mean by 'calmed me down'?" she asked skeptically.
"I rubbed your back. And last night I just held you and whispered softly. And-" he stopped suddenly, embarrassed.
"And?"
"Nothing, Gra-nothing. You were in trouble, I helped you. Physical contact provides a primal calming sensation."
"Right, of course. I'm just old enough to get suspicious when I wake up with a guy in my bed, you understand."
"Of course. But really, Hermione, don't you trust me?"
A week before she would have just said "No," and laughed sarcastically, but she held herself back. She looked at him for a minute, and stared intently in his eyes. He knew the only chance he had of her believing him was maintaining eye contact. She was about to give in when logic took over.
"Should I?"
The question surprised him. "Dumbledore does."
That was the best thing he could have said for his cause. "So will they just get Snape to make me a potion to stop the dreams? I don't mean to make trouble for you."
"Unfortunately, no. Dumbledore seems to think they are warnings from your future self, and that having them is the only way to protect you."
"And you?"
"Are the protector, so it would seem."
"Where did that come from?"
"You only seem to attain comfort in these dreams with the infiltration of my conscious physical presence, therefore it is protecting you."
"Sorry if I'm a little slow. What is your part in this?"
"Apparently saving your life." He continued, ignoring the shocked expression on her face. "So I am to stay close to you, and continue rescuing you from your subconscious, or future as it may be."
"Oh. And Dumbledore trusts us-" she fell silent but blushed scarlet, revealing her meaning.
"Is that all you ever think about? Yes, he does, enough to inform the staff of our situation. Besides, I believe I have enough control over my hormones to resist taking advantage of our innocent Head Girl."
Hermione's mind was running wild. 'What would my mother think if she knew I was sleeping with a guy? What would Harry and Ron think, or Mrs. Weasley? Well, I just won't tell them, that should be easy enough. Only the teachers can find us, and they know and are obliged to allow it. Wait- what do I think? Sure, he's attractive, and has been acting decently, but until yesterday we hated each other. Can we stay close without killing or- no, stop that. You have checked emotions for seventeen years. Nothing will happen.'
She was about to say something when a tapping at the window ended her silent monologue. There was a brown school owl outside. She jumped up and let it in. It came to a landing on the windowsill. She untied the note from its leg, and it flew off.
Hermione shut the window while opening the small parchment.
Hermione-
I need to speak with you. It is very important, but I didn't
want to tell you earlier. At eight o' clock, this letter will turn into
a portkey and bring you to my chamber.
-Professor Remus Lupin
Stuffing it into the pocket of her robe, she turned her attention back to Draco.
"Draco, thank you for telling me. I do trust you, and I am most appreciative of your helping me. However, I do have some homework I need to do, so we will have to talk more later."
Draco nodded assent, and left to catch the end of dinner. She went to her desk and had gotten most of her work done with a few minutes to spare, and so went back to her room and tidied herself up to avoid disappearing in front of Draco.
She had just grabbed the parchment when she felt a jerk behind her navel. There was a momentary swirl of blackness, then she found herself in a plain chamber with a four-poster, desk, dresser, bookshelf, and a smiling Professor Lupin in an armchair. She fell backwards and found herself in an identical one.
"Hermione, nice of you to join me."
"Professor, you needed to talk to me about something?"
"Quite a few things, actually. And I don't imagine any of them will be very easy for either of us. First, has anyone told you you bear a striking resemblance to Lily Evans?"
"A few, but I believe it has something to do with the beauty spell."
"I have something to say about that as well, but it will wait. Hermione, where exactly did you get that necklace?"
"It was in a small trunk of my baby things in the attic of our summer house. Why?"
"It was Lily's. I gave it to her. I paid Severus to make it." He continued quickly, before she could reason the rest out for herself. "The only way the beauty spell could make you look like her would be if the potential to look like her was already in you. It was counteracting an older spell."
"You mean that she-"
"Lily Evans was your mother."
That had been on the threshold of her mind, but she hadn't allowed herself to think it.
"There's something else," he said, conjuring a mirror. "Look." He held it out a little so it showed the two of them clearly. It took her a minute to realize what he meant. "Our eyes," she whispered.
"You mean-" she was interrupted by his nod.
"But how?"
"There was a sort of love triangle among the three of us back in school. After graduation, Voldemort was nearing the height of his power. The wizarding world was in the middle of a war. Lily's parents, fearing for her safety, attempted to force her to abandon wizardry. James's parents were rich, and rather proud, and wouldn't allow him to marry a Muggle born of no consequence. Six months later, I was able to rescue her from her family and we eloped. Not long after, we realized that the two of us weren't meant to be together. We got a divorce, and no one saw or heard of her until she emerged the next October as Mrs. Lily Potter. During that time, I assume she became pregnant, gave birth to you, and gave you up for adoption to some Muggle school friends of hers."
"Profe-sorry, habit. Father-"
"Just call me Professor, Hermione. We married secretly, and you are the only person to know about it. I don't think she even told James."
"All right. Professor, could I go back to my room now? This is rather sudden, and I'm a little overwhelmed."
"Of course. But Hermione, it's nine o' clock. The portraits are locked without the teacher's key. Mind if I walk you back?"
"No, I guess not."
They walked back to the Head room in silence, and found Draco waiting in front of the portrait, locked out. Lupin opened the picture, and let both of them in. Draco, somehow sensing her mood, just went quietly into his own room. Hermione fell across the couch.
'I really need to talk to someone. This is a little much for me. I can't talk to Harry, he's my brother. I can't talk to Ron, he seems to think he's in love with me. I can't talk to Draco, or Dumbledore, or Mum and Dad. That's it!'
She got up and walked over to the fireplace, throwing in a pinch of green powder from a bag on the mantle. "Fifteen Godric's Hollow!"
A/N: What did everyone think? I told at least a few of my secrets here, and explained really why this can't turn into a Hermione/Harry or Hermione/Remus story. One hundred points to anyone who guessed Remus's secret before I told you. I'd like to apologize for what I did to Charlie Weasley, but I will explain everything, promise. Thanks enormously much to sherlockelly and green eyed lady. Go read their stories, if you have time. Please review!
To my reviewers-
Indus-Thank you. I'm not promising this will turn R/H, but we will see something about that in the future.
Jessica-Glad you like it. I will get more posted as soon as I can.
TigerWolf-Don't go getting into trouble with the librarian just to read this. But thanks for reading it anyway. Thanks for putting me with your favorites.
Nikole Kaylns/ChildofTheWolf-No! Not Mrs. Norris! Thanks much.
Milla Black-Sorry, for obvious reasons this wouldn't work as a Hermione/Remus. I'll see what I can do, though.
animagus-steph-Thank you. You are the only real multiple reviewer. I was a little nervous about the bathtub scene, but luckily there are glasses. I will put in as much Hermione/Harry as I can with them being related and all. They still flirt with each other some. In addition, I posted a H/H songfic, which you might like.
Linz-Okay. If this is posted as H/H, I'm really sorry. It wasn't supposed to be. How do you change that? I'm sorry, this story obviously now can't work as a H/H but I do have a songfic with them. Persephone is Draco's sister, and you will soon discover all of that plotline in a flashback that I have yet to type up. Like I told animagus-steph, I'll try to put in as much H/H as I can without it getting . . . questionable.