A/n: This is a flashback chapter, I thought it was a good time to explain a few things like; why she cut her hair? How did she open a shop? And a little mention of where Kevin appeared from. Anyway I hope you enjoy and feel free to tell me what you think... Thanks for the reviews.
In Dreams
Chapter Seven
April 2000
A light spring breeze blew through the budding forest situated at the rear of a weather worn bungalow. A man, with prematurely grey hair, glanced around his homely kitchen. He liked it here, the south facing aspect, meant that the kitchen received a generous amount of light during the day. These rays caused shadows to snail across the beams, spanning the length of the roof. Remus didn't have the heart to remove the spiders that taken up residence on the old railway sleepers. The bungalow, itself, was in need of some repairs. The shale slates of the roof, were dislodging, this in turn allowed the rain to seep into the rooms below. There were no electrical lines this far from the nearest town, as the occupant was a wizard, it went unnoticed. The bungalow was comfortable - and that's all that mattered!
Remus Lupin was busying himself making lunch in the kitchen for his visitor, who was late, when he heard the clanging of tin dustbin lids. The thirty-nine year old smirked to himself.
"Sweetheart! Your late!" he playfully yelled.
"Sweetheart? How cute," was the sneering reply.
Remus froze, carefully placing down the brown enameled teapot, he slowly turned. To his horror, three unmasked Death Eaters were standing in his kitchen.
"You!" Remus growled, pointing to the silver handed man.
"What Moony, no hug?" the nasal voice replied.
The only female in the group, a young chubby girl no more than twenty-three, was staring oddly at Remus with wide almost transparent eyes. She stood behind Pettigrew, and was a good head taller than him. She was grinning madly and clasping her hands delightedly together, she started chanting, "We found the werewolf, we found the werewolf," in a sing-song manner.
"Indeed," casually remarked the third.
Pettigrew made a sudden movement forward; Remus with faster reflexes moved too. The dark man curtly whipped out his wand and shook his head. Remus stalled. Pettigrew, however, was stopped when the blonde caught his elbow.
"Tut Tut Peter, you know the rules. I get to play with the beastie first. When I'm finished, you can have him."
Wormtail turned abruptly pulling his elbow roughly from the woman's surprisingly strong grip. He looked to the other man for acknowledgement.
"Let her play," Avery commanded. "I've had enough of your squabbling."
While Remus had been preparing lunch, he had left his wand on the draining board. He was mentally jinxing himself, if 'Mad-Eye' knew, he'd kill him. First rule of the Order - don't put wand out of sight. Well second anyway, Moody was behind the first - don't put wand in back pocket.
He could see it - all nine inches of it; if he could just grab it he'd be sorted. His opportunity seemed to arise; Avery and Pettigrew appeared to be having a muted argument. Rockford, however, noticed Remus' arm slowly extended and inch towards the wand. She waited until he had almost gripped it before nonchalantly calling out, "Accio wand!"
Remus' breath hitched as he saw the beech fly past his face and into the smirking girl's out stretched hand.
Rockford approached the disheartened man, a smile playing on her overly red lips and whispered in his ear, "How very naughty of you, I'm just going to have to teach you a lesson."
"I wouldn't mind her half-breed," remarked Avery. "She's a little crazy. One too many Cruciatus curses... melted her mind." Avery grinned.
Remus caught the girl's eyes again; they weren't transparent, as such, but glassier. He momentarily wondered if she was aware of her surroundings. Perhaps he could use this to his advantage; she after all was holding his wand.
The young woman ran her ring finger along Remus' rough jaw line, "Oh! Stubble. I like my men rugged," she continued seductively, before pulling away biting her lip and giggling insanely.
"Rockford – No!" commanded Avery, from his new position. He had taken to leaning against the cracked blue painted wall. "Don't lower your already, low, standards."
Rockford's head shot around to face Avery's. Though she didn't say anything, Remus imagined her eyes narrowing at the older Death Eater.
"Moony's-" began Wormtail.
"Don't you call me that," growled Remus, trying desperately to figure away out of his predicament.
"The Wolf is enjoying it. Really who would willingly associate with a half-breed?"
"I was fine company for you once."
"That was many years ago."
"Why did you do it?"
"Do what?" Peter replied innocently. Taking a step forward he grabbed Remus' wand from Rockford and began to wave it mockingly in the werewolf's face.
"Betray James and Sirius," Remus bit out. His quick eyes were following Peter's podgy body and determining a pattern in the shorter man's parading. Waiting for his moment, Peter's nasal voice washed over Remus.
Pouncing Remus caught the Death Eater off guard, his fist met with the mound of flesh above Wormtail's jaw. Due to his sudden surprise, Peter dropped both wands. For a moment everyone stood still, each with their eyes aimed at the discarded sticks. Both men leaped at the same time, resulting in a mad scramble, where Remus stood victorious. With both wands held firmly in his drowning man's grip, he stood posed for a duel. In the jostle, Remus had elbowed Peter in the nose. The mousy-haired man pulled himself from the tiles, and looked at Remus with disgust plastered on his face. There was a cold, tingly sensation around his nose. Running a finger over it he saw that he was bleeding.
"You never were quick, Wormtail," said Remus. Pointing a wand at the bleeding Death Eater he said "Petrificus Totalus" Peter fell rigidly to the kitchen floor with a dull sound.
Avery, no longer against the wall, started to clap acerbically. "Well done; nice show, but now you face me."
The two men circled one another, the best that they could in a small, cramped kitchen. Rockford jumped onto the draining board to watch, wearing a smile similar to a child on Christmas morning.
"Hey Wolf," she called to Remus. "Do you mind if I eat some of your food? Of course you don't... you two - play nice!"
Remus drowned out her voice; he needed to concentrate on the other Death Eater.
The young girl watched fascinated as the two men dueled, yelling various curses and counter-curses. When it looked as though Avery was about to fall, Rockford casually pointed her wand at Remus again.
"Expelliarmus! She called and successfully disarmed the werewolf. She never removed herself from her position but as Avery revived Peter she remarked, "Don't look so down trodden. We're Death Eaters; of course we cheat in duels." She beamed happily at Remus.
Peter, now standing, approached the slumped body of Remus. "Stand up," he roared. Turning away he said indifferently, "They weren't worth it."
"What?" Remus groaned. He tried to sound threatening but the blast into the wall winded him.
"Padfoot and Prongs, they weren't worth it. Lily well she was something even if she was a Mudblood, bet she tasted like strawberries. It's a pity really, she didn't have to die."
"If she didn't, then we all would have known you for the rat that you are," Remus said heatedly.
"Didn't think of that, just as well she's dead then, eh Moony?" Peter jeered.
"You bastard!" spat Lupin.
"Language! It's nothing personal, but I think it's time you joined the other two - make a set out of it," continued Pettigrew.
"Nothing personal? You are still as stupid as you were all those years ago, when Prongs and Padfoot took pity on you - this whole war is personal, you idiot!"
"SILENCE!" three heads turned to see an irate looking woman. "Now shut it! It's my time to play," Rockford huffed, effectively silencing Peter. "And I've always found you a little sniveling... now you," she turned to Remus. "What to do with you?"
Remus continued to taunt Peter; his plan was to distract them all long enough to try and make a grab for his wand again, but also Tonks shouldn't take much longer. If he could just keep them talking till she arrived.
"So what was it he promised, to live? You know at the time, we wouldn't have killed you."
"You may have been fit company once but that was before I learned the error of my ways. Our Master showed me that."
"Your dead master," corrected Remus.
"He will resurrect again," Peter said as though reassuring himself.
"He's not the Messiah Peter."
It happened so fast, he hadn't expected it; one second he was mocking Peter, the next he was in excruciating pain in a ball on the ground. It felt like his bones were being individually bent in opposing directions. He could feel ice-cold agony shooting down his spine, while little pins jabbed and stung the exposed areas. His head was filling with white light, blinding him. He could hear an agonizing scream and with sickening realization, he knew it was himself. It finished as abruptly as it had begun. Remus pulled himself on to all fours, coughing and spluttering. His teeth were throbbing; he could hear them sniggering above, the girl giggling again. It stung to breathe, his lungs felt like they were bound in ropes and there was a tangy metallic taste on his lips. Remus spat out the blood that had pooled in his mouth, conjuring up the last of his strength he muttered, "Did you know Voldemort's father was a Muggle?"
If he were going to die, at least he'd go fighting.
Pettigrew leapt forward and struck his ex-friend with the heavy silver hand. Remus' elbows buckled under this alien weight and he crumpled to the cold, tiled floor. Peter stood triumphantly over him.
"It won't be long now, old-friend. Say hello to Padfoot and Prongs for me," and with that Wormtail dealt another harsh blow to Moony's already aching and worn-out body.
Rockford crossed her arms and huffed, resembling an infant. "Avery," she moaned. "Make him stop. He's ruining my fun."
She sat on her bed at her parent's house fixedly staring at the piece of parchment gripped tightly between her fingers. She had easily looked at it a hundred times, since receiving it the previous month. She found it odd, that such a small article held so much importance. Behind the sparkling green ink, favoured by her old headmaster, was masked the effort and work, the countless hours studying. Now she pondered, was it wasted time? All the time bent over a book, straining her eyes in a fading glow, had it been worth it? In theory yes - she had achieved what she wanted, 'Outstanding' in all the exams, but at what cost? The loss of her time? Her teenage years? Didn't her aunt not say, only two weeks ago that, "They are the best years of your life Hermione, don't waste them."
Could she have spent this time in the company of now departed friends?
Hermione picked up the second piece of parchment, on this one the writing was a lot more formal, addressed to a, 'Miss Hermione Granger.' The parchment was heavier, and obviously more expensive, inside also held an answer to her future. She was however, unsure if she wanted it. Through all her years at Hogwarts, and especially after becoming Head Girl, Hermione would have loved to work for the Minister. Now she sat utterly, utterly confused. She knew deep down, where she was brutally honest, had Ron been alive she wouldn't have spent so long deliberating. She would have replied 'yes' and sent the reply back with the same Ministry Owl.
'Should I take the job? Harry thinks yes, but he would... my parents don't understand. Who can I ask for advice? Professor Lupin? She thought.
"Honey?"
Hermione became aware of someone gently shaking her.
"Sweetheart, are you alright?"
She turned to face her concerned looking mother. "Yes Mom, I'm fine," she smiled. Standing up she placed the two offending letters on her locker. "Have they arrived yet?"
"No Dear, they're not due for another for another hour. I just wanted you to help me set the table."
Hermione nodded. "Sure I'll be down in a few minutes."
Mrs. Granger turned at the door and said, "Oh! I almost forgot there's a letter for you."
"From who?" asked a confused Hermione. There was no Muggle mail on Sundays.
"Harry's owl - Hedmig?"
"Hedwig," Hermione automatically corrected.
"Lovely looking bird, that's why I was calling you for the last ten minutes," Mrs. Granger smirked; she turned and headed towards the kitchen.
"Why did Harry send me an owl?" Hermione asked out loud pulling on an oversized grey cardigan around her.
She knew very well that 'setting the table' was code for 'I'm running late and I desperately need you to finish while I shower'. Hermione pulled her door closed behind her and on entering the kitchen her suspicions were proved correct. Her mother was frantically dashing about.
Hermione picked up the letter on the table and examined the handwriting. It was definitely Harry's, but it was in a hastily scribbled script.
Mrs. Granger noticed her daughter enter the humid room and turned around with a bowl and wooden spoon, she was about to demand some creaming when she noticed her twenty-year-old's face pale and her hand shoot to her neck. She placed down the utensils and gently positioned her hand on her daughter's forearm. Hermione shuddered at the touch.
"Hermione Honey, what's wrong?"
"Mom I'm so sorry I... I have to go. Em... apologize to the Fitzgearlds for me and eh... congratulate Joanne on the baby, but I'm sorry I have to have left five minutes ago," kissing her mom on the cheek, she disapparated.
Mrs. Granger picked up the discarded letter that had fallen to the ground.
Hermione,
Remus -- ATTACK -- Mungo's NOW...
HP.
Hermione reappeared in an alleyway near the department store 'Purge & Dowse LTD'. She rushed to the window with the dusty mannequins, sporting out of date fashions. She looked directly at the one in the green pinafore.
"Wotcher," she whispered quietly. "Here to see Mr. Remus Lupin." The mannequin nodded its head and beckoned Hermione with its jointed finger. To the more acute Muggles passing by Hermione appeared to be peering in the window of a shop under refurbishment, to the average Muggle she went unnoticed as most shoppers bustled by, not giving the shop a second glance. No one noticed the nineteen-year-old walk through the once solid pane of glass. Hermione found herself standing in the waiting room of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.
She quickly glanced through the floor guide, realizing she hadn't a notion what had happened so she resorted to asking the snappy, unfriendly brunette behind the counter. There was a short wizard in front of her who appeared to have forgotten why he was there, but a glance at his arm, deciphered that.
"Fourth floor," the brunette said, barely glancing up from her nails she was inspecting.
"Hello. I'm looking for Mr. Remus Lupin, I'm not sure where he is," Hermione said.
The young girl looked up and sighed clearly annoyed she had to do some work.
"Hold on... Lupin... Lupin you say... Nope no Lupins here." She turned back to her nails.
Hermione knocked on the glass partition, "could you check again please?"
The girl narrowed her eyes. "Name?" she grunted.
Hermione suppressed the urge to scream, she was in a hurry. "Remus, R-E-M-U-S. Lupin, L-U-P-I-N."
"Yeah there's one. Go to the third floor, first corridor on the right. Follow it until the end, climb the stairs, then take second left. Shouldn't miss it, only ward there." The girl replied indifferently and grabbed a bottle of purple nail polish.
Hermione sighed and headed in the direction of Remus' ward. His ward was isolated from all others, and with great difficulty she finally found it. Only because one of the portraits took a liking to the very dressed up young witch, and showed her the way. He also told her that in his day, bushy hair was a sign of possession and if she wanted he could take her to a secluded ward, and he'd be sure to frighten any demons away. Hermione ignored the painting; instead, she concentrated on the echoing click of her heels in the empty halls. She hadn't had a chance to change out of her formal clothing. She realized she must look ridiculous in her formal attire and oversized, shabby, grey cardigan.
Eventually she spotted the messy dark hair of her friend. "How is he?" asked Hermione glancing in the ward window, and seeing a very pale looking Tonks holding Remus' hand.
"The Healers say he'll be ok," replied Harry, "that he was lucky."
"Lucky?"
"Much more and he would have died."
"What happened?" Hermione asked in a mixture of curiosity and genuine concern.
"Wormtail!" spat Harry.
Hermione gasped, "the silver hand." Her gaze automatically returned to the bed.
Harry nodded mutely.
Hermione continued to question not removing her eyes from Remus' sleeping form, "Did they get him?"
"Yes and Avery and 'Maddie' Rockford."
"Well at least some good has come of this, they alive?"
"Pettigrew and Rockford are. Avery went down fighting."
"That's got to be it," she muttered to herself. "There's no more - right?" Hermione asked pleadingly.
"You know as much as I do. Though the Ministry thinks there is still a handful left. I doubt they'll do anything, bide their time and return in a few years, different names..."
"Why Professor Lupin?"
"Don't know. Avery knew the Order was after him, Pettigrew is a fool and Rockford well she's a little unpredictable."
"No I mean... did they just come across Professor Lupin or what?" Hermione asked.
"No. Wormtail tracked him down, wanted to finish the last of the Marauders off - the bastard!" Harry yelled, kicking the wall angrily, his eyes glistening. "They ganged up on him. Tonks arrived out and thought it seemed quiet even for Remus, so she called backup. Merlin Hermione, he was crumpled on the floor in a bloody mess. Pettigrew was repeatedly striking him with the silver hand. You should have seen him, so pale and bruised, I... I thought he was dead," Harry's voice choked and he sniffed. "If Tonks hadn't had turned up..."
Hermione silently shook her head.
"More Aurors turned up," continued Harry, "they captured those two, but in the process Remus' bungalow was burnt down - he's lost everything, it's all gone!"
Hermione looked up and whispered, "not everything," and indicated to Tonks, who was on her way out of the ward.
"Hermione," Tonk's weak voice forced out.
"Hey," she replied, wrapping her arms around the Auror and bringing her into a hug.
May 2000
Silence. That's what greeted her. Hermione looked around the dark kitchen of Grimmauld Place. They were all purposely avoiding her gaze, looking fixedly at the table instead. Banging her mug against the wood, heavier then she had intended, caused Harry to grimace.
"You will all be giving evidence though, won't you," she asked again, fixing her stare on her emerald-eyed friend.
"Well you see... me and... Tonks and I... well we're Aurors..."
"And?
"In this case, we've already given evidence." Harry looked at Tonks, whose violet hair was hard to miss, silently asking for help.
"When?" Hermione asked.
Harry took a deep breath, "our reports."
"Your what?" He'd expected that. "Harry you're still in training - how could you have given a report?"
Silence.
No reply only fuelled her irritation with the situation. Hermione turned to face Remus and asked much softer, "Professor, you'll be there though." They avoided her eyes again.
Remus sighed deeply. "No, I won't be."
"And why not?" said Hermione, not allowing Remus the chance to finish.
The purple haired woman squeezed her boyfriend's hand before speaking. "Hermione, the Minister thinks that evidence from Remus will only... only hinder Pettigrew's conviction."
"That's ridiculous!" cried Hermione.
"I know, we all know," said Tonks. "But the Minister has the final say."
Hermione looked at the disconsolate faced gathered around the kitchen table. If Professor Lupin wasn't going to give evidence, how was Pettigrew supposed to be charged? Then it hit her. Hermione glanced at the ex-professor, he had healed quickly, but because the inflictions were with a silver implement, he hadn't healed fully. She wondered if he would always carry some marks of the attack, just another reminder of the werewolf inside of him.
Hermione stared directly into his milky-blue eyes, and spoke sadly. "But Peter isn't been charged with Remus' attack, is he?"
Remus shook his head.
She wanted to say it was unfair, to scream and complain, but what good would it do. Instead she said dejectedly, "so only my evidence is being heard."
"No," said Harry. "Out of us though, only you will give evidence in the trial."
"When?"
Harry handed Hermione a piece of parchment.
Hermione turned it over; the red wax seal displayed a barn owl holding a scroll in its beak and weighing scales in its talons, the emblem of the Wizengamot. "What's this?"
"Just read it."
Dear Miss Granger,
You are requested, by order of the Minister for Magic, to give evidence in the forthcoming trial: The Wizarding World Vs Peter Pettigrew.
You are expected to be at Courtroom nine at: 12.30 pm on May 12.
With best wishes,
Yours sincerely,
S.W. Waddell.
Senior Undersecretary to the Minister.
Ministry of Magic.
Hermione sat silently contemplating what she just read for a few moments. "This is on Friday. Three days time! I don't even know how the Wizengamot works."
To say she was surprised would have been lying. She had expected this outcome, but it still hadn't prepared her. Pettigrew, deserved to be punished, justice called for it. He had done many terrible things, but the Kiss? The thought of the Dementors lowering their dark cloaks, and revealing what was beneath, made Hermione shudder. Lock him away for eternity; curse him to feel every pain he ever inflicted, but taking someone's soul - his essence, that was literally a fate worse than death. If only Sirius was still alive, it would have been easier. She didn't know how to handle Harry anymore. She felt as if they were slowly growing further apart.
Peter's trail was, to put it mildly, disturbing. When she had sat in the public gallery at Rockford's, she had felt uncomfortable and ill. Rockford was a woman she didn't know, never fought. Rockford was insane, that was obvious, and if the situation wasn't so serious, she may have felt sorry for the woman.
The Minister for Magic, Cornelius Oswald Fudge, who somehow managed to be re-elected, was asking the young blonde questions. Rockford completely ignored him. She was rocking in her chair and only her cracked lips were visible beneath her matted hair. She appeared to be mumbling something that was inaudible.
Fudge was becoming more and more enraged until eventually he shouted her name, "Madison Rockford."
She looked up, causing the blonde strands to fall away from her wide eyes. She smiled at him. Fudge looked furious. Yet, still the Death Eater continued to ignore the questioning, seeming oblivious that she was in court. Her chanting became louder, causing the Wizengamot and public gallery to erupt into loud whispers. It was this that really got Hermione. Either Rockford had Muggle connections or, and the 'or' was even too awful to contemplate. How had a Death Eater, come to learn a Muggle nursery rhyme?
Her sentencing had caused an outcry. Hermione, as she silently slipped out of the courtroom, couldn't decide if it was fair sentence. Madison Rockford had been involved in the assault on Professor Lupin, for which she was not charged. She had done many awful things but Hermione believed that the 'punishments' inflicted on her by Voldemort, had effectively erased what had been the original Madison Rockford. For all the Wizengamot knew, the Death Eater could have been under the Imperius Curse. One thing Hermione did know was she didn't deserve to get off. Some form of punishment was deserved and that came in the form of 'a life sentence, to be served in a secure ward of St. Mungo's. For her safety and the safety of others.'
This was probably best for the girl who was deemed, "so 'disturbed', that even the Dementors had no affect on her", in the Daily Prophet, the following day.
Peter's trial was different. Hermione could feel the heavy air radiating out the doors and into the darkened corridor, to which she had been led to wait in. There were no windows enchanted like the ones near Mr. Weasley's office. The only light was from the candles floating far above her bushy hair, reflecting a dull orange glow onto the gloomily painted walls. The dreariness of her surroundings gave the young witch a foreboding feeling. To keep her mind from the trial taking place, she had tried to estimate, how far beneath London she currently was. If she had gone down so many floors, each with a twelve foot high roof; that would make it... She never got to finish that thought as she heard the short Junior Secretary call her name.
"Miss Hermione Granger," the soft male voice called again. The little wizard escorted Hermione to the entrance; he smiled encouragingly before leading her to her seat.
From her chair in the middle of the long room and facing the Minister, Hermione could tell the entire, plum coloured robe wearing Wizengamot was in attendance. She quickly searched the sea of faces for a familiar one. Spotting Remus, he gave her an encouraging smile; Harry merely nodded and turned to Ginny. Hermione furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, but didn't have long to ponder it when deadly silence surrounded her. The air circulating around her seemed drenched. It felt as though the atmosphere was compressing about her, and prodding onto her mind. She could scarcely think, and momentarily wondered had a spell been cast. Her eyelids felt weighed down; she glanced around to see if anyone looked different. Everyone looked the same, blank expressions, awaiting a response. It looked as though Fudge was smiling.
"Hermione Granger?"
She looked up. 'Answer him - say yes!'
"Yes," she spoke in a voice unlike her own.
Fudge launched into a long series of questions about Hermione's involvement in the war. What had she researched? Was it true she helped Harry Potter? Who did she fight? Where was she when Harry had killed Lord Voldemort? That had caused a few shudders. Then he asked about Ronald Weasley. She had dated him, correct? What happened? How had a young skilled potential Auror been killed? How had it happened when a young witch, who from her own testimony sounded very qualified, had been present?
Hermione's mind seemed to have answered all the questions till now...
'What does this have to do with Pettigrew?'
'Just answer-'
'Why?'
'Tell him the truth; tell them you did it. Tell them you killed Ron.'
'No.'
'You killed him, didn't you?'
'No.'
'DIDN'T YOU?'
Her own consciousness snapped back. "What does this have to do with Pettigrew?" Hermione asked, her voice sounded loaded.
"Answer the question, Miss Granger," Fudge demanded. His eyes caught something behind her.
This didn't go unnoticed, and the teenager glanced behind her, but there was nothing there. She could feel it; the pressure was falling on her mind again.
"Miss Granger, an answer please."
She went to open her mouth, when Dumbledore stood. "Minister, I don't believe this is of any relevance."
'Dumbledore? When had he arrived?' She tried to replay the last few minutes of her life, but found she couldn't... what was going on?
Fudge continued to question the old Head Girl, all the time she could feel the prodding at her mind but she had become more aware of it. So when Fudge brought up Sirius Black, Hermione automatically shifted into cautious mode. Every time she was asked a question her mind automatically screamed the answer, but luckily her mouth was slower on the uptake. Which enabled her to formulate an answer better; though it was not helping that her mind was displeased she wasn't telling the whole truth.
Remus was becoming worried, Hermione had been sitting there for almost forty-five minutes, the other witnesses had spoke for a maximum of fifteen minutes. Not to mention, Fudge, the questions he was asking were inappropriate and it looked as tough he was looking beyond Hermione. What was he doing, there was nothing there. Remus was momentarily relieved when Dumbledore stopped the Minister. What had Ron's death have to do with anything? The break in the questions also seemed to wake Hermione up. She had been answering the questions fast, almost too quickly for his liking. He was even more thankful that Hermione was more alert, though not much more, when Fudge, started asking about Padfoot. Remus' eyes widened in shock when he heard the last question asked.
"Isn't it true Miss Granger, that you were aware of Sirius Black's location, when he escaped from Azakaban?"
Remus quickly turned his gaze to Hermione. Her face didn't seem anymore nervous then would be expected; yet her eyes showed she was having a mental argument. The werewolf looked across the crowded public gallery to where Dumbledore was seated, behind Fudge and to the right of Amelia Bones. Albus leaned forward and whispered in the Minister's ear. Fudge's face became stony as he announced to Hermione that they were finished.
The feeling of relief Hermione felt when she was told she could leave was indescribable. She immediately jumped from her seat and practically ran from the room. Outside, she took deep breaths of the colder air to compose her self, and then headed to meet Harry and Remus.
"That was horrible," Hermione whispered, when she sat beside Harry in the public gallery.
He mumbled something and nodded his head.
"Are you alright?" asked Remus.
"Of course Professor, a little shook up - but generally fine, Why do you ask?" she replied.
He looked her over, "just checking."
"How long was I there for?" Hermione asked.
"Almost an hour," Ginny said.
"An hour!"
"Shh!" Harry lightly hit her arm.
By the time Peter was led flanked by two Dementors, Hermione's head was swimming. She was drowsy but as soon as the Dementors entered the hall, she perked up like someone had thrown ice cold water at her. The emotion in the room was dark, and the expression of every wizard and witch showed the strain of the cloaked creatures' presence. After five minutes of hearing the wizard protest his innocence she had to leave.
"I'm going to go," she whispered. The looks in Harry and Remus' eyes didn't help either.
"We'll see you back at Grimmauld Place," Remus said darkly, never removing his gaze from the friend that had betrayed him.
Ginny waved solemnly, Harry ignored her.
'What did I do?'
Thus, she was sitting in Grimmauld Place when Remus delivered the news.
"The Kiss?!"
Remus Nodded.
Hermione felt nothing, no shock just emptiness. "When?"
"Three days time.
"Oh!"
"Take it Remus told you." Harry's voice called to her.
"Yeah.
"Are you going to come with us?" he questioned.
Hermione knitted her eyebrows. "Where?" she asked cautiously.
"To Azakaban, all the Order members have to be there," Ginny said. She was standing behind Harry holding his hand.
"I'm not going," Hermione automatically answered.
Harry's eyes darkened, "you have no choice.
"Yes I do," Hermione retorted standing up.
Ginny and Remus glanced at each other and wordlessly agreed it best to leave the two, to their stand-off. They both quickly exited the kitchen.
The nineteen-year-old male leaned across the table, his face almost touching Hermione's. He stared right into her chocolate coloured eyes and ordered. "You will be there Hermione." He stressed each word fully.
"And what will be achieved by my attendance?"
"Have you forgotten what he did?" Harry asked through gritted teeth.
"No."
"Then you'll go," he said softer, though his voice still sounded harsh.
"No."
He looked livid, Hermione had never seen him look this mad before, his eyes were glimmering desperately, and truthfully she was a little frightened of him. "I will not sit and watch someone's soul be sucked out of them, it's not right, whoever they are." She said as calmly as she could manage.
This only incensed Harry more, "Pettigrew's a monster and he deserves everything he gets!"
Hermione took a deep breath to calm her shaking voice, "I disagree Harry." She didn't need to fight with him, but she couldn't stop herself. Their friendship was strained since Ron's death and now was definitely no time to argue.
"Will it make you feel better?" she asked.
Harry turned away from her; she could see him clenching his fists, and the whites of his knuckles shone against his tanned skin.
"Well, will it?" she asked her voice rising again. "What good will it do Harry. He got his punishment what else-"
Harry broke her speech, banging his fist on the table. "God dam it Hermione! Have you forgotten everything?" His voice was so bitter it hurt.
"No," she responded sheepishly.
"That fucker killed my parents."
She looked down at the table.
"He stole Sirius away from us; he tried to kill Remus... should I go on?
"Yes Harry but-" her voice sounded so timid against Harry's deep growl.
"That bastard deserves everything he gets," he spat.
"I'm not denying that but-"
"And I will be there to make sure that he never comes back to ruin my life or anyone else's again."
"I understand-"
"No you don't," he shouted.
"For Merlin's sake Harry, let me speak," Hermione yelled. "I know what he did... I'm very aware of what he did... it's just..." She turned her gaze to the table, picking up a silver teaspoon she ran it between her fingers and spoke in a voice so quiet he almost didn't hear her. "I... it doesn't mean I want to witness his demise..."
He just looked at her, his eyes shinning with unspent tears. Swallowing the lump in his throat he said, "f... for Ron."
"Huh!"
"Go for Ron - you remember him don't you," Harry said bitterly.
"What's that suppose to mean?"
"Exactly what I said," he spat.
Hermione opened and closed her mouth, she could taste salty liquid in her mouth; she hadn't realized she was crying. "Fuck you Potter - FUCK YOU!" she yelled throwing the spoon she had picked up earlier at Harry. He easily dodged it and the metal clanged in the stainless steel sink.
"That's it! I've had enough of you - if you don't think, I think about Ron every bloody day, then we've become more of a lost cause then I thought."
Harry only seemed to realize what he'd said.
Hermione leaned in close to Harry's face, so close she could smell his aftershave and whispered beside his ear, "Harry, you didn't stand helpless while your best friend was murdered - did you?"
"Hermione, sorry… I didn't-" he whispered, unable to catch her eye.
"No Potter," she sneered. "This time you went too far. You can just... just... Argh!" The young witch turned and marched out of the kitchen.
Harry threw the cup she had been drinking from against the wall. It shattered loudly, splattering droplets of cold coffee and porcelain to the floor.
Three days later Hermione found herself in a small rectangular balcony at Azakaban. The design of this particular section of the Wizard Prison, reminded Hermione of an amphitheatre. She couldn't help but be bitterly reminded of what had occurred in them too. She was sitting quietly beside Harry and every time she looked at him she could feel shivers run down her spine. She did not like this attitude of Harry's. Eventually she had conceded to go to Azakaban, she only went so Harry wouldn't hold it against her. Though she would prefer to be anywhere right now. She'd even prefer to be in Snape's bed than here. She shuddered.
Looking around the somber faces, she saw many she knew, either members of the 'Order of the Phoenix' or she had seen their faces at the trial. She couldn't help but wonder if some were here out of some perverse, morbid pleasure. On the balcony, directly across from her, she saw the Murphy family. Pettigrew was suspected of torturing their daughter Penelope and killing her husband. How many faces here had been in some way affected by the antics of the Death Eaters?
On her way in she had seen Tomas Chroniqueur, a journalist from the Daily Prophet, so they would have an article on this, probably with the headline: "Boy-who-lived; LIVES again!" or "Peace for Poor Potter."
The creaking of a door alerted Hermione, she allowed her eyes to look in the rectangular room below, and there she saw the pathetic form of Peter Pettigrew. Momentarily she wondered what they use to be frightened of this pale, squat, sheepish man. Peter was skittering around like a trapped mouse. Banging on the now invisible doorway, he had entered through.
A loud hateful voice, possibly a woman's, resounded equally about the balconies. "Peter Pettigrew - you have been convicted by a jury of your peers to receive the Kiss. By Wizarding Code, you are entitled to your last words."
Hermione shivered, this was sick and the voice was so cold. Pettigrew's beady little eyes darted around the balconies as he pleaded in a sullen voice, "I didn't do it, I didn't do anything - I'm innocent." Finally he rested his gaze upon Harry, Hermione noticed the helplessness there, and for some reason a strand of hope. "Harry y... you said before - th... that J... James wouldn't..."
"Shut up!" Harry screamed. "Never speak his name."
She couldn't look; turning away from the sickeningly harsh and deep voice she caught a pair of silvery grey cold eyes. Gasping with realization, they belonged to Draco Malfoy, Death Eater.
She couldn't take it anymore, it was choking her, Harry's hate, the pleading of a damned man and Malfoy's smirk; it was laughing at her. She had to leave. Standing abruptly, she swiftly exited the chamber only to hear a spine-chilling scream.
Entering her front door, Hermione threw her keys on the hall table. The smell of cooking reached her nostrils, but the sweet aroma only reminded her of the stench of Azakaban.
"Hermione? Sweetheart! How did it go?" her mother or maybe it was her father asked.
She didn't care - she'd damned a man! Running towards the bathroom she swung the door closed. She had thrown the cheap wood with such force that it reopened, to reveal the bushy haired girl retching over the toilet.
Hermione sat back, leaning her back against the plastic molded bathtub, shivering. Tears leaked out the corners of her eyes. She had damned a man's soul, her testimony helped in the murder of a man. He wasn't an innocent but she still felt tainted. She couldn't remove the image of his eyes and his pitiful cries for help, echoed in her head.
"Get out... get out..." she whispered to herself through sobs.
She felt dirty; she needed to wash away the filth. Only, scrubbing her hands and skin red raw didn't help. She could feel the emotion, the sickness, guilt, evil flowing thickly through her veins, clumping in her lungs, seeping through her scalp. Hermione ran a hand disgustedly through her brown hair; it was here too.
Eying a silver implement, she grabbed it and started to cut. She needed to remove it from her. The tears steadily flowed down her cheek. A sharp intake of breath at the door, made Hermione look up, Mrs. Granger stared at her daughter, tears rolling down Hermione's pale and blotchy skin. Long, uneven clumps of brown hair surrounded her scrunched form on the lino.
Kneeling down beside her daughter, she removed the scissors from the weak grasp and lovingly caressed Hermione's head.
"Your hair!" Mrs. Granger said sadly.
June 2000
It was a month since Azakaban; Hermione hadn't seen Harry as he was training in France with a colleague of 'Mad Eye' Moody's. She had made a decision about her job offer, she could not work for a man who could use the Kiss or not charge the Death Eaters for what had happened Professor Lupin. She had some money in Gringotts; her Great-Aunt had left her some. She would do something with that instead. The idea of traveling has occurred to her; she always wanted to go to Mexico and Peru. However, after accidentally bumping into some ex-Hogwart's students, she put that idea on hold.
Knocking on 12 Grimmauld Place, she was answered by an improved looking Professor Lupin. It was a horrible thought, but since Peter's death Remus was looking less worried. Hermione followed the ex-Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor into the kitchen, where he offered her some tea or coffee.
"I still can't believe you cut your hair," said Remus.
Hermione glanced at her hands; that wasn't her finest hour. Forcing a smile she said, "I fancied a change Professor."
After a moments silence Remus spoke, "So... not that I mind the visit, but... why have you called?"
"Well I was in Diagon Alley last week and I bumped into Susan Lyons, do you remember her? Ravenclaw prefect, two years ahead of us."
Remus nodded.
"Anyway, she asked me to go to lunch and well I had nothing planned so I went. I met some of her friends, one of them Kevin Raftery-
Hermione subconsciously blushed causing Remus to smirk. However, she didn't notice and continued to talk.
"- well he said that 'Tiberius' Apothecary' was shutting down and that the owner would be renting the premise... eh, I know the owner quite well, so we had a nice chat and he's agreed to rent me the space and at a reduced price too. Actually, that was more Kevin's conversational skills..." she smiled.
Remus asked, "What do you plan on opening?"
"A book shop."
"Should have guessed!" he mocked.
"Well that's not why I came though... I was wondering... I'll understand if you don't want to... but maybe... perhaps..."
"Hermione just tell me, you're making no sense," Remus smiled over the rim of his teacup.
"Professor, would you like to work with me?" she blurted out.
The werewolf's eyes widened slightly and he placed his teacup gently on its saucer. "You want me to work for you?"
She nodded. "Well not for, but with me."
"Em..."
"You don't have to Professor," she said a little disappointed.
Remus surveyed her for a moment, "if I did you'd have to do something for me."
"Anything," she replied eagerly.
"Stop calling me Professor!" he smirked.