A/N: Please see part one for disclaimers and other info.
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Ron dropped his fork with a loud clatter. His eyes were wide and his mouth agape, and from the strange, gurgling sounds he was making, Hermione suspected he was attempting to speak. She could hear the bubbles of speech in his throat, and it sounded very much like he was trying to speak about Harry.
Hermione grabbed his knee and squeezed.
"Is everything all right?" Lily asked.
"Say yes," Hermione whispered to Ron.
"Yes," Ron repeated as Hermione squeezed even tighter. "Yes, just got a bit of a headache from the flight. Broom-lag, you know." He then addressed Hermione out of the side of his mouth. "Let up, will you?"
"Do you promise not to say anything stupid?" she hissed.
Ron hissed back at her, but his voice was so low Hermione could barely hear him. though she did draw her hand back. Lily was now watching them with a politely puzzled gaze.
"So you two are from Beauxbatons?" Lily asked.
"Yeah, that's right," Ron said sulkily, rubbing his knee.
"And how did you happen to end up there? Neither of you sound French, and that's where Beauxbatons is, isn't it?"
Hermione and Ron exchanged a panicked look; Dumbledore had given them no instructions on how to answer these sort of questions. Ron quickly shoved a spoonful of eggs into his mouth, leaving Hermione to answer for the both of them.
"Our parents work for the Ministry," she lied hastily. "In the Department for International Magical Cooperation. They often work abroad, and so we had to begin our schooling in Europe." She looked helplessly at Ron, hoping her story made sense. "Right?"
"Yeah, right," Ron agreed.
Lily shrugged pleasantly. "Oh, I don't know too much about the Ministry. My parents are Muggles, you see, so I only know what I learned here."
Hermione almost exclaimed, "Me too!" but managed to hold her tongue. It was striking her, however, that she was quite like Lily; the only witch in a family of Muggles, prone to burying her nose in a book at mealtimes.
"Well, I must be off," Lily said, gathering her things and shouldering a bag that looked much to heavy. "Enjoy your first day."
As Lily walked past, James Potter swiveled in his chair, his hands hastening to ruffle his hair. "Catch up with you later, Evans?" he asked.
"Bugger off, Potter," Lily replied, not even slowing to glance at him as she swept by. James blushed while Sirius and Lupin begin to snigger.
"Bugger off, then," Sirius trilled. "Ah, Potter, I think she may be smitten."
"Amazing, isn't it?" Hermione mused, shaking her head in disbelief, "Just look at them."
But Ron was staring after Lily with a dreamy sort of look in his eyes.
"She's...brilliant," he finally sighed.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "She's also Harry's mother, Ron."
"Not yet, she isn't. Right now she's just..." Ron sighed again and squirmed in his seat. "Brilliant."
"Oh, don't be vulgar," Hermione snapped. "How would you like it if Harry looked at your mother like that?"
Ron grimaced and pushed his plate aside. "And there goes my appetite."
A firm hand clasped Hermione on the shoulder. She looked up to see Professor McGonagall towering over them.
"A word in my office, if you please," she said.
Hermione and Ron rose to their feet and made to follow her. Hermione hesitated a bit as they passed James, Sirius, Lupin and Pettigrew, her eyes chancing to glance over at them.
Sirius looked up at her, and Hermione felt an odd sort of lurch in her stomach as she stared into his black eyes, like she was in an elevator traveling much too fast.
It took a great deal of willpower, Hermione found, to tear herself away from his gaze and move onward after Ron and McGonagall.
* * *
Harry was straining to be patient as he sat across from Lupin. They were seated in Dumbledore's office; Lupin had decided it would be the best place for an undisturbed conversation. How Lupin knew the password, Harry did not know, though he was dying to ask if his old professor had been in contact with Dumbledore overnight.
Lupin was sipping a cup of tea and rubbing his eyes. The sleeves of his robes drooped, and Harry noticed several violent, vivid red gashes on his forearms.
"Sorry, Harry," Lupin said after draining the last of his tea. "I haven't meant to keep you in suspense. It's just been a very long night."
"Where's Tonks?" Harry asked, the question bursting forth as if it could not stand to be left unsaid for another moment.
"She's in St. Mungo's Hospital. Now stay calm," Lupin said, noticing the flash of concern that swept over Harry's face. "She'll be all right. She was hit with quite a strong series of stunning spells last night, but the Healers should be able to set her right in no time."
There was a hint of falseness in his voice that Harry did not wish to explore. "I suppose I should be pleased she isn't worse off?"
Lupin nodded. "I'm afraid so. Last night was difficult."
He went silent again, staring out one of the tall windows that overlooked the Hogwarts grounds. All around them, headmasters and headmistresses of years past snored in their frames. Harry noticed that Phineas Nigellus, Sirius's great-great grandfather, was absent from his painting; Harry wondered idly if he was currently occupying his other portrait at Number 12 Grimmauld Place.
A thousand questions swarmed his mind, but Harry was unsure if he really wanted the answers to any of them. He wanted to be playing Exploding Snap in the common room with Ron and Hermione, wondering aloud as to what was happening beyond the walls of Hogwarts. He did not want to be here, dreading what news Lupin would deliver next.
"Harry, there is a lot I believe you deserve to know that we have lately been hesitant to share with you. Dumbledore wants you informed, I know, but even more than that he wants you focused. He has told me that your independent Divination project is little more than a ruse."
Harry nodded.
"But he has not told me what you are truly studying, and if he has asked you to keep it a secret, I respect that. But it must be important, if you are unable to speak of it, and I don't want you distracted from whatever tasks Dumbledore has given you."
"But how could I not be distracted?"
"Exactly," Lupin concurred. "With Ron and Hermione somewhere in the past, your mind is, understandably, already elsewhere, and so Dumbledore feels that you might as well know all there is to know."
"So he sent you? Have you heard from him?"
Lupin nodded. "I received an owl from him last night. He wants me to tell you of the specific matters concerning the Order at present. He is also, I am relieved to say, having me stay at Hogwarts until he is able to return."
"So you can help me get Ron and Hermione back!"
Lupin offered the ghost of a smile. "I will do what I can, and you will be pleased to know that Professor McGonagall is also working on the matter."
Harry was so relieved to hear those words that he felt ready to deal with whatever Lupin had to say. He leaned forward in his seat and waited.
"To begin, Harry, I must inform you that Tonks is not the only member of the Order in the hospital. Charlie Weasley has been there for some time."
Harry frowned. "What happened to him? Was there an accident with the dragons?"
"Unfortunately not," Lupin said. "There was an...an incident almost two weeks ago. Charlie..." He seemed to choke on the next several words. "He had an encounter with Percy Weasley. You know that Percy has not spoken to his parents for several months now, and Charlie was there to try to talk some sense into him. Make him see the error of his ways."
Lupin shook his head. "It didn't go well. They fought, first with words, but then with wands. In the end, Harry, Percy used the Cruciatus Curse on Charlie."
Harry gasped. "He...how could...how bad?"
"It isn't good, Harry. The Healers are doing what they can, but there is a chance that Charlie may never recover."
The words hung in the air. Harry could not believe his ears. Percy had changed since Harry had first met him, but had he really changed that much? How could he resort to using an Unforgivable Curse on his own flesh and blood? He was almost glad that Ron was not around to hear this.
"If there is any good news," Lupin continued, "it is that Dumbledore does not believe Percy knew what he was doing. He believes the boy to be under the Imperius Curse."
"Is there any way to prove that?"
"The Order has always relied on Veritaserum to deal with such questions. But in order for proper administration of the potion and thorough interrogation, we had to find Percy. "
Harry was beginning to put the pieces of this puzzle together. "And that's what you were doing last night, isn't it?"
Lupin nodded grimly. "We tried to intercept him as he arrived at his flat. As it turns out, he was under the watch of several people I believe may be working for Voldemort. Tonks was stunned, and we were forced to flee."
"So Percy got away and..."
"We still do not know," Lupin finished. "If Dumbledore thinks Percy is under the Imperius Curse, Harry, than I am inclined to believe so, but at times like these it is hard to know. Some people will do anything for power."
"Are the other Weasleys okay?"
"They're shaken by the news, certainly, but I think they are stronger than we imagine. Ginny is still here, yes?"
Harry felt a flash of pain. He had not yet told Ginny about Ron's blunder with the Time Turner, and he dreaded doing so, almost as much as he dreaded her finding out what Lupin had just told him.
"Yes, she is," Harry answered after a moment. "Will you tell her?"
"I think she has the right to know, but I tell you, Harry, I do not look forward to doing so."
Harry swallowed. A lump had developed in his throat. "What else?"
"We have begun working with the shopkeepers at Diagon Alley. Many of the attacks by Death Eaters have taken place there. They must find it hard to resist; all those wizards crowded together. We are arming the shop owners, training them to protect themselves. Fred and George Weasley are leading the way."
Harry found it remarkable that Fred and George were working on something so serious, but he was quite proud that they were doing so.
"The store owners in Hogsmeade are also receiving help from the Order. We would not be surprised if that was where the next wave of attacks were. Our work in the Ministry is continuing, but for every mind we win, Voldemort seems to win two." There was a pregnant pause. "I fear he will grow even stronger now than he ever was before."
Harry did not know what to say to this. He looked over at the perch when Fawkes, the beautiful phoenix Dumbledore kept as a pet, usually stood, but the bird was not there. He wished he could hear Fawkes sing his enchanting song right now...
A strange look suddenly came over Lupin. He made an odd sound and stood, shaking his head as if confused. Harry watched him pace the length of the office several times.
"What is it?" Harry asked.
"It cannot be," Lupin muttered. "How very odd."
"What?" Harry pressed. "What's odd?"
Lupin looked down at Harry with something akin to amazement in his eyes. "I knew Ron and Hermione," he said.
Harry blinked, trying to figure out what to make of such a statement, wondering if perhaps Lupin was suddenly losing his mind. "How so?"
"I meet them when I was young...fifteen to be exact...I can remember it perfectly." He was speaking slowly, as if the memories were all coming back at once, released from some forgotten vault in his mind. "They came to Hogwarts at the start of my fifth year. Dumbledore introduced them to the school. How..."
And then he stopped pacing and snapped his fingers. "That's it, Harry! Don't you see?"
Harry most certainly did not see; in fact he was more confused than ever. Lupin continued undaunted.
"It's the Time Turner, Harry. It's sent Ron and Hermione back to the time when I was a student here." Lupin smiled. "We found them. Harry."
* * *
"Can you believe this?" Hermione exclaimed, storming out of McGonagall's office, little patches of pink appearing on her cheeks. "I never would have thought, in a million years, that McGonagall would be so unfair!"
Ron was struggling to keep up with her long, angry strides, his eyes scanning the course schedule McGonagall had assigned the pair of them. "It could be worse, Mione. I mean, at least this way, homework will be a snap."
Hermione ignored him. "All because she doesn't have a record of our O.W.L scores! It is just so utterly, terribly undignified that she is making us..." Hermione lowered her voice to a whisper. "Repeat the fifth year."
She shuddered as if the concept itself made her ill. Ron opened his mouth to speak but Hermione pressed on.
"Do you know how many O.W.L.s I got?"
"Ten," Ron recited dully.
"Ten! Exactly! And yet, here I am, repeating the fifth year like some common...some common...troll!"
With a last incensed sigh, Hermione rounded on Ron, looking positively disgusted. "What class have we got first?"
Ron hesitated. "Divination."
"Divination! Oh, I thought I was through with that drivel!"
"At least Professor Trelawney doesn't work here yet," Ron offered brightly. "It might actually be worthwhile, Mione. You might even learn something."
Hermione seemed momentarily placated by the prospect, though her frown persisted as Ron led her to the classroom identified on their schedules.
In a stark contrast to the North Tower where Professor Trelawney held her Divination classes, the fifth floor classroom of this past was large and well lit, with no heavily perfumed fires to cloud their minds. Crystal balls were lined neatly on the shelves, though even from a distance Hermione could see that they were coated in a considerable layer of dust.
Hermione and Ron were among the last students to enter. Most of the seats were already taken; Hermione noticed a pair of empty desks near the seats occupied by James and his friends. She led Ron over with a nod.
"Are you sure?" Ron whispered.
Hermione did not answer as she sat down alongside Lupin, who appraised her with a polite smile as he situated parchment and a quill on his desk. Ron took the desk beside her, his eyes fixated on James and Sirius, who sat in front of them, talking energetically back and forth. Hermione noted that their school bags were near empty; neither had bothered to so much as pack a book in preparation for their lessons.
"I'm telling you, Potter, she'd rather kiss the giant squid than go into Hogsmeade with the likes of you," Sirius was saying, tilting his chair back on its hind legs, looking tremendously comfortable in his own skin. "And really, mate, can you blame her?"
James glared at Sirius, though his lips were twitching into a smile, and beside Hermione, Lupin chuckled under his breath.
"Nah, there's something strange about that girl," James said.
"Yes, that must be it," Sirius quipped. "Alert the Aurors, for Lily Evans is undoubtedly under some horrible dark spell. Don't you think, Moony?
Lupin looked up with a grin. "Quite. I cannot think of another reason that she would not be stricken by your charms, Potter."
Ron failed to suppress a snort of laughter. James, Sirius, and Lupin all turned to observe him, suddenly very aware that he was eavesdropping.
"Or maybe she's keen on someone else," Sirius suggested, his eyes going over Ron with a glint of maliciousness. "I think I saw her talking to Red over here at breakfast."
Ron blushed so deeply that Hermione suspected his new nickname was now quite sure to stick. He seemed deprived of his voice, and so Hermione said, in what she hoped was a cool tone, "I don't think you need to worry about Ron."
Ron looked at her reproachfully, as if insulted by the insinuation that he was not a threat for Lily's affections.
Sirius's eyes flicked over to Hermione, who again felt the odd fluttering in the pit of her stomach. She suddenly noticed that several of the girls seated around them, many of whom were quite gorgeous, were gazing at Sirius like he was a glass of water and they were dying of thirst.
And, though she was ashamed of herself for even thinking so, Hermione could understand why. He was easy on the eyes.
"So what's your name, new girl?" Sirius asked.
"Hermione," Lupin answered, and Ron and Hermione both jumped, surprised by his confident interjection. "You would know that, Sirius, if you had been listening to Dumbledore at breakfast."
Lupin smiled at Hermione once more; now that she had an opportunity to really look at him, she saw how tired he looked. She remembered that it had been a full moon last night and wondered if he had slept at all.
"We were listening, weren't we, Potter?" Sirius said. "Oh, no, I guess you weren't. You were too busy gawking at Evans, as I recall."
"Could we drop this subject, please?" James asked. "Let Red have her, for all I care."
Sirius and Lupin both smiled and rolled their eyes, as if this were an assertion they heard often and did not in the least believe.
"My name's Remus," Lupin said, and Hermione and Ron did their best to look like this was news. "These two gits are James and Sirius."
"Hey, who are you calling a git, Moony?"
The door swung open and a tall, elderly witch entered the room. Sirius sent Hermione one last look before turning in his seat; his raised eyebrow and half smile made her jump in an entirely unfamiliar way. She was so struck by his energy and his vigor...
And then, with a realization that sucked the air from her lungs, she remembered that this young, attractive boy in front of her was bound to suffer unimaginably in the coming years. He would lose his best friend to death, another to the service of Voldemort, and then spend all those years in Azkaban...
Hermione felt like she was about to spill out of her seat. She was tremendously grateful when the witch at the front of the room rapped her knuckles on the desk.
"All right, come to order," she said. "I want to continue our discussion on dream interpretation."
Several of the students, Lupin included, obligingly lugged heavy textbooks from their bags. James, however, pulled a torn piece of parchment from his and begin to doodle absently. Sirius merely yawned and leaned even further back in his chair.
The witch cleared her throat impatiently, reminding Hermione forcibly of Dolores Umbridge. "Please turn to page 118."
The rustle of turning pages filled the room. Hermione and Ron looked at each other, and Ron merely shrugged, clearly unconcerned about their lack of textbooks. He yawned, quite like Sirius just had, and leaned back in his own seat.
"Here," Lupin whispered, sliding his book toward her. "We can share. Not that it'll matter much. Old Professor Corner here usually just rambles on for most of the hour."
"I see. Does Professor Corner claim to...er...See?"
"Of course. Right nonsense, if you ask me," Lupin said, though he started to take notes the moment Professor Corner begin speaking, almost as if by compulsion.
"Now we all know that wolves represent coming hardships. Can anyone elaborate on the specific hardships wolves, particularly werewolves, represent?"
A few lazy hands were raised. At the mention of werewolves, James and Sirius sniggered to themselves, and Hermione and Ron could not help but glance over at Lupin, who was resolutely avoiding looking at anything other than the parchment before him.
"Mr. Black, Mr. Potter, if something is entertaining you, could you perhaps share it with the class?" Professor Corner snapped.
"No thanks, Professor," Sirius replied, with that dangerous smile of his. Several of the girls gazing fondly at him actually let out little sighs of admiration.
Professor Corner glared at James and Sirius for a moment before shifting her eyes to Hermione and Ron.
"New students, eh?" she said, consulting a piece of parchment resting on her desk with knitted brows. "Yes, Dumbledore mentioned this. Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, correct?"
Hermione and Ron nodded. Professor Corner continued to stare at them.
"I sense a great deal of extrasensory vibration around the both of you," she said, in the same brisk tone she had been using since class begin. Hermione was perplexed; it was one thing to hear Professor Trelawney say something so ludicrous in her wispy, ethereal tones, but quite another to hear the sentence delivered with such no nonsense bluster.
"Tell me," Professor Corner continued. "Do either of you find yourself possessed of knowledge of the future?"
All eyes turned to them. Sirius stared hard at Hermione and it again hit her: in her world Sirius no longer existed. He was dead. A sharp moan rose up out of her.
Ron sighed. "You have no idea."
Ron dropped his fork with a loud clatter. His eyes were wide and his mouth agape, and from the strange, gurgling sounds he was making, Hermione suspected he was attempting to speak. She could hear the bubbles of speech in his throat, and it sounded very much like he was trying to speak about Harry.
Hermione grabbed his knee and squeezed.
"Is everything all right?" Lily asked.
"Say yes," Hermione whispered to Ron.
"Yes," Ron repeated as Hermione squeezed even tighter. "Yes, just got a bit of a headache from the flight. Broom-lag, you know." He then addressed Hermione out of the side of his mouth. "Let up, will you?"
"Do you promise not to say anything stupid?" she hissed.
Ron hissed back at her, but his voice was so low Hermione could barely hear him. though she did draw her hand back. Lily was now watching them with a politely puzzled gaze.
"So you two are from Beauxbatons?" Lily asked.
"Yeah, that's right," Ron said sulkily, rubbing his knee.
"And how did you happen to end up there? Neither of you sound French, and that's where Beauxbatons is, isn't it?"
Hermione and Ron exchanged a panicked look; Dumbledore had given them no instructions on how to answer these sort of questions. Ron quickly shoved a spoonful of eggs into his mouth, leaving Hermione to answer for the both of them.
"Our parents work for the Ministry," she lied hastily. "In the Department for International Magical Cooperation. They often work abroad, and so we had to begin our schooling in Europe." She looked helplessly at Ron, hoping her story made sense. "Right?"
"Yeah, right," Ron agreed.
Lily shrugged pleasantly. "Oh, I don't know too much about the Ministry. My parents are Muggles, you see, so I only know what I learned here."
Hermione almost exclaimed, "Me too!" but managed to hold her tongue. It was striking her, however, that she was quite like Lily; the only witch in a family of Muggles, prone to burying her nose in a book at mealtimes.
"Well, I must be off," Lily said, gathering her things and shouldering a bag that looked much to heavy. "Enjoy your first day."
As Lily walked past, James Potter swiveled in his chair, his hands hastening to ruffle his hair. "Catch up with you later, Evans?" he asked.
"Bugger off, Potter," Lily replied, not even slowing to glance at him as she swept by. James blushed while Sirius and Lupin begin to snigger.
"Bugger off, then," Sirius trilled. "Ah, Potter, I think she may be smitten."
"Amazing, isn't it?" Hermione mused, shaking her head in disbelief, "Just look at them."
But Ron was staring after Lily with a dreamy sort of look in his eyes.
"She's...brilliant," he finally sighed.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "She's also Harry's mother, Ron."
"Not yet, she isn't. Right now she's just..." Ron sighed again and squirmed in his seat. "Brilliant."
"Oh, don't be vulgar," Hermione snapped. "How would you like it if Harry looked at your mother like that?"
Ron grimaced and pushed his plate aside. "And there goes my appetite."
A firm hand clasped Hermione on the shoulder. She looked up to see Professor McGonagall towering over them.
"A word in my office, if you please," she said.
Hermione and Ron rose to their feet and made to follow her. Hermione hesitated a bit as they passed James, Sirius, Lupin and Pettigrew, her eyes chancing to glance over at them.
Sirius looked up at her, and Hermione felt an odd sort of lurch in her stomach as she stared into his black eyes, like she was in an elevator traveling much too fast.
It took a great deal of willpower, Hermione found, to tear herself away from his gaze and move onward after Ron and McGonagall.
* * *
Harry was straining to be patient as he sat across from Lupin. They were seated in Dumbledore's office; Lupin had decided it would be the best place for an undisturbed conversation. How Lupin knew the password, Harry did not know, though he was dying to ask if his old professor had been in contact with Dumbledore overnight.
Lupin was sipping a cup of tea and rubbing his eyes. The sleeves of his robes drooped, and Harry noticed several violent, vivid red gashes on his forearms.
"Sorry, Harry," Lupin said after draining the last of his tea. "I haven't meant to keep you in suspense. It's just been a very long night."
"Where's Tonks?" Harry asked, the question bursting forth as if it could not stand to be left unsaid for another moment.
"She's in St. Mungo's Hospital. Now stay calm," Lupin said, noticing the flash of concern that swept over Harry's face. "She'll be all right. She was hit with quite a strong series of stunning spells last night, but the Healers should be able to set her right in no time."
There was a hint of falseness in his voice that Harry did not wish to explore. "I suppose I should be pleased she isn't worse off?"
Lupin nodded. "I'm afraid so. Last night was difficult."
He went silent again, staring out one of the tall windows that overlooked the Hogwarts grounds. All around them, headmasters and headmistresses of years past snored in their frames. Harry noticed that Phineas Nigellus, Sirius's great-great grandfather, was absent from his painting; Harry wondered idly if he was currently occupying his other portrait at Number 12 Grimmauld Place.
A thousand questions swarmed his mind, but Harry was unsure if he really wanted the answers to any of them. He wanted to be playing Exploding Snap in the common room with Ron and Hermione, wondering aloud as to what was happening beyond the walls of Hogwarts. He did not want to be here, dreading what news Lupin would deliver next.
"Harry, there is a lot I believe you deserve to know that we have lately been hesitant to share with you. Dumbledore wants you informed, I know, but even more than that he wants you focused. He has told me that your independent Divination project is little more than a ruse."
Harry nodded.
"But he has not told me what you are truly studying, and if he has asked you to keep it a secret, I respect that. But it must be important, if you are unable to speak of it, and I don't want you distracted from whatever tasks Dumbledore has given you."
"But how could I not be distracted?"
"Exactly," Lupin concurred. "With Ron and Hermione somewhere in the past, your mind is, understandably, already elsewhere, and so Dumbledore feels that you might as well know all there is to know."
"So he sent you? Have you heard from him?"
Lupin nodded. "I received an owl from him last night. He wants me to tell you of the specific matters concerning the Order at present. He is also, I am relieved to say, having me stay at Hogwarts until he is able to return."
"So you can help me get Ron and Hermione back!"
Lupin offered the ghost of a smile. "I will do what I can, and you will be pleased to know that Professor McGonagall is also working on the matter."
Harry was so relieved to hear those words that he felt ready to deal with whatever Lupin had to say. He leaned forward in his seat and waited.
"To begin, Harry, I must inform you that Tonks is not the only member of the Order in the hospital. Charlie Weasley has been there for some time."
Harry frowned. "What happened to him? Was there an accident with the dragons?"
"Unfortunately not," Lupin said. "There was an...an incident almost two weeks ago. Charlie..." He seemed to choke on the next several words. "He had an encounter with Percy Weasley. You know that Percy has not spoken to his parents for several months now, and Charlie was there to try to talk some sense into him. Make him see the error of his ways."
Lupin shook his head. "It didn't go well. They fought, first with words, but then with wands. In the end, Harry, Percy used the Cruciatus Curse on Charlie."
Harry gasped. "He...how could...how bad?"
"It isn't good, Harry. The Healers are doing what they can, but there is a chance that Charlie may never recover."
The words hung in the air. Harry could not believe his ears. Percy had changed since Harry had first met him, but had he really changed that much? How could he resort to using an Unforgivable Curse on his own flesh and blood? He was almost glad that Ron was not around to hear this.
"If there is any good news," Lupin continued, "it is that Dumbledore does not believe Percy knew what he was doing. He believes the boy to be under the Imperius Curse."
"Is there any way to prove that?"
"The Order has always relied on Veritaserum to deal with such questions. But in order for proper administration of the potion and thorough interrogation, we had to find Percy. "
Harry was beginning to put the pieces of this puzzle together. "And that's what you were doing last night, isn't it?"
Lupin nodded grimly. "We tried to intercept him as he arrived at his flat. As it turns out, he was under the watch of several people I believe may be working for Voldemort. Tonks was stunned, and we were forced to flee."
"So Percy got away and..."
"We still do not know," Lupin finished. "If Dumbledore thinks Percy is under the Imperius Curse, Harry, than I am inclined to believe so, but at times like these it is hard to know. Some people will do anything for power."
"Are the other Weasleys okay?"
"They're shaken by the news, certainly, but I think they are stronger than we imagine. Ginny is still here, yes?"
Harry felt a flash of pain. He had not yet told Ginny about Ron's blunder with the Time Turner, and he dreaded doing so, almost as much as he dreaded her finding out what Lupin had just told him.
"Yes, she is," Harry answered after a moment. "Will you tell her?"
"I think she has the right to know, but I tell you, Harry, I do not look forward to doing so."
Harry swallowed. A lump had developed in his throat. "What else?"
"We have begun working with the shopkeepers at Diagon Alley. Many of the attacks by Death Eaters have taken place there. They must find it hard to resist; all those wizards crowded together. We are arming the shop owners, training them to protect themselves. Fred and George Weasley are leading the way."
Harry found it remarkable that Fred and George were working on something so serious, but he was quite proud that they were doing so.
"The store owners in Hogsmeade are also receiving help from the Order. We would not be surprised if that was where the next wave of attacks were. Our work in the Ministry is continuing, but for every mind we win, Voldemort seems to win two." There was a pregnant pause. "I fear he will grow even stronger now than he ever was before."
Harry did not know what to say to this. He looked over at the perch when Fawkes, the beautiful phoenix Dumbledore kept as a pet, usually stood, but the bird was not there. He wished he could hear Fawkes sing his enchanting song right now...
A strange look suddenly came over Lupin. He made an odd sound and stood, shaking his head as if confused. Harry watched him pace the length of the office several times.
"What is it?" Harry asked.
"It cannot be," Lupin muttered. "How very odd."
"What?" Harry pressed. "What's odd?"
Lupin looked down at Harry with something akin to amazement in his eyes. "I knew Ron and Hermione," he said.
Harry blinked, trying to figure out what to make of such a statement, wondering if perhaps Lupin was suddenly losing his mind. "How so?"
"I meet them when I was young...fifteen to be exact...I can remember it perfectly." He was speaking slowly, as if the memories were all coming back at once, released from some forgotten vault in his mind. "They came to Hogwarts at the start of my fifth year. Dumbledore introduced them to the school. How..."
And then he stopped pacing and snapped his fingers. "That's it, Harry! Don't you see?"
Harry most certainly did not see; in fact he was more confused than ever. Lupin continued undaunted.
"It's the Time Turner, Harry. It's sent Ron and Hermione back to the time when I was a student here." Lupin smiled. "We found them. Harry."
* * *
"Can you believe this?" Hermione exclaimed, storming out of McGonagall's office, little patches of pink appearing on her cheeks. "I never would have thought, in a million years, that McGonagall would be so unfair!"
Ron was struggling to keep up with her long, angry strides, his eyes scanning the course schedule McGonagall had assigned the pair of them. "It could be worse, Mione. I mean, at least this way, homework will be a snap."
Hermione ignored him. "All because she doesn't have a record of our O.W.L scores! It is just so utterly, terribly undignified that she is making us..." Hermione lowered her voice to a whisper. "Repeat the fifth year."
She shuddered as if the concept itself made her ill. Ron opened his mouth to speak but Hermione pressed on.
"Do you know how many O.W.L.s I got?"
"Ten," Ron recited dully.
"Ten! Exactly! And yet, here I am, repeating the fifth year like some common...some common...troll!"
With a last incensed sigh, Hermione rounded on Ron, looking positively disgusted. "What class have we got first?"
Ron hesitated. "Divination."
"Divination! Oh, I thought I was through with that drivel!"
"At least Professor Trelawney doesn't work here yet," Ron offered brightly. "It might actually be worthwhile, Mione. You might even learn something."
Hermione seemed momentarily placated by the prospect, though her frown persisted as Ron led her to the classroom identified on their schedules.
In a stark contrast to the North Tower where Professor Trelawney held her Divination classes, the fifth floor classroom of this past was large and well lit, with no heavily perfumed fires to cloud their minds. Crystal balls were lined neatly on the shelves, though even from a distance Hermione could see that they were coated in a considerable layer of dust.
Hermione and Ron were among the last students to enter. Most of the seats were already taken; Hermione noticed a pair of empty desks near the seats occupied by James and his friends. She led Ron over with a nod.
"Are you sure?" Ron whispered.
Hermione did not answer as she sat down alongside Lupin, who appraised her with a polite smile as he situated parchment and a quill on his desk. Ron took the desk beside her, his eyes fixated on James and Sirius, who sat in front of them, talking energetically back and forth. Hermione noted that their school bags were near empty; neither had bothered to so much as pack a book in preparation for their lessons.
"I'm telling you, Potter, she'd rather kiss the giant squid than go into Hogsmeade with the likes of you," Sirius was saying, tilting his chair back on its hind legs, looking tremendously comfortable in his own skin. "And really, mate, can you blame her?"
James glared at Sirius, though his lips were twitching into a smile, and beside Hermione, Lupin chuckled under his breath.
"Nah, there's something strange about that girl," James said.
"Yes, that must be it," Sirius quipped. "Alert the Aurors, for Lily Evans is undoubtedly under some horrible dark spell. Don't you think, Moony?
Lupin looked up with a grin. "Quite. I cannot think of another reason that she would not be stricken by your charms, Potter."
Ron failed to suppress a snort of laughter. James, Sirius, and Lupin all turned to observe him, suddenly very aware that he was eavesdropping.
"Or maybe she's keen on someone else," Sirius suggested, his eyes going over Ron with a glint of maliciousness. "I think I saw her talking to Red over here at breakfast."
Ron blushed so deeply that Hermione suspected his new nickname was now quite sure to stick. He seemed deprived of his voice, and so Hermione said, in what she hoped was a cool tone, "I don't think you need to worry about Ron."
Ron looked at her reproachfully, as if insulted by the insinuation that he was not a threat for Lily's affections.
Sirius's eyes flicked over to Hermione, who again felt the odd fluttering in the pit of her stomach. She suddenly noticed that several of the girls seated around them, many of whom were quite gorgeous, were gazing at Sirius like he was a glass of water and they were dying of thirst.
And, though she was ashamed of herself for even thinking so, Hermione could understand why. He was easy on the eyes.
"So what's your name, new girl?" Sirius asked.
"Hermione," Lupin answered, and Ron and Hermione both jumped, surprised by his confident interjection. "You would know that, Sirius, if you had been listening to Dumbledore at breakfast."
Lupin smiled at Hermione once more; now that she had an opportunity to really look at him, she saw how tired he looked. She remembered that it had been a full moon last night and wondered if he had slept at all.
"We were listening, weren't we, Potter?" Sirius said. "Oh, no, I guess you weren't. You were too busy gawking at Evans, as I recall."
"Could we drop this subject, please?" James asked. "Let Red have her, for all I care."
Sirius and Lupin both smiled and rolled their eyes, as if this were an assertion they heard often and did not in the least believe.
"My name's Remus," Lupin said, and Hermione and Ron did their best to look like this was news. "These two gits are James and Sirius."
"Hey, who are you calling a git, Moony?"
The door swung open and a tall, elderly witch entered the room. Sirius sent Hermione one last look before turning in his seat; his raised eyebrow and half smile made her jump in an entirely unfamiliar way. She was so struck by his energy and his vigor...
And then, with a realization that sucked the air from her lungs, she remembered that this young, attractive boy in front of her was bound to suffer unimaginably in the coming years. He would lose his best friend to death, another to the service of Voldemort, and then spend all those years in Azkaban...
Hermione felt like she was about to spill out of her seat. She was tremendously grateful when the witch at the front of the room rapped her knuckles on the desk.
"All right, come to order," she said. "I want to continue our discussion on dream interpretation."
Several of the students, Lupin included, obligingly lugged heavy textbooks from their bags. James, however, pulled a torn piece of parchment from his and begin to doodle absently. Sirius merely yawned and leaned even further back in his chair.
The witch cleared her throat impatiently, reminding Hermione forcibly of Dolores Umbridge. "Please turn to page 118."
The rustle of turning pages filled the room. Hermione and Ron looked at each other, and Ron merely shrugged, clearly unconcerned about their lack of textbooks. He yawned, quite like Sirius just had, and leaned back in his own seat.
"Here," Lupin whispered, sliding his book toward her. "We can share. Not that it'll matter much. Old Professor Corner here usually just rambles on for most of the hour."
"I see. Does Professor Corner claim to...er...See?"
"Of course. Right nonsense, if you ask me," Lupin said, though he started to take notes the moment Professor Corner begin speaking, almost as if by compulsion.
"Now we all know that wolves represent coming hardships. Can anyone elaborate on the specific hardships wolves, particularly werewolves, represent?"
A few lazy hands were raised. At the mention of werewolves, James and Sirius sniggered to themselves, and Hermione and Ron could not help but glance over at Lupin, who was resolutely avoiding looking at anything other than the parchment before him.
"Mr. Black, Mr. Potter, if something is entertaining you, could you perhaps share it with the class?" Professor Corner snapped.
"No thanks, Professor," Sirius replied, with that dangerous smile of his. Several of the girls gazing fondly at him actually let out little sighs of admiration.
Professor Corner glared at James and Sirius for a moment before shifting her eyes to Hermione and Ron.
"New students, eh?" she said, consulting a piece of parchment resting on her desk with knitted brows. "Yes, Dumbledore mentioned this. Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, correct?"
Hermione and Ron nodded. Professor Corner continued to stare at them.
"I sense a great deal of extrasensory vibration around the both of you," she said, in the same brisk tone she had been using since class begin. Hermione was perplexed; it was one thing to hear Professor Trelawney say something so ludicrous in her wispy, ethereal tones, but quite another to hear the sentence delivered with such no nonsense bluster.
"Tell me," Professor Corner continued. "Do either of you find yourself possessed of knowledge of the future?"
All eyes turned to them. Sirius stared hard at Hermione and it again hit her: in her world Sirius no longer existed. He was dead. A sharp moan rose up out of her.
Ron sighed. "You have no idea."