Chapter Five: A Momentary Reprieve

Days had passed, but Hermione could still remember what Peter had said as she and Remus were walking out. It was true, Hermione had been taking up a great deal of his time, but she hadn't realized that any of them had resented it until then.

Therefore, Hermione was quite pleased when, on the day of the Quidditch match against Slytherin, Sirius came up to the library to drag herself and Remus down to watch. It had been a great while since Hermione had taken in a decent game of Quidditch, and Gryffindor vs. Slytherin matches were always intense.

"Hermione, Remus," Sirius said, greeting each one in turn. "It's time for the match, you know? Come on," he had prodded, poking Remus in the arm playfully.

Remus glared at Sirius for a second, then glanced at Hermione skeptically. She looked from him to Sirius, then firmly stated, "We'd love to come down."

She packed up their books, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "Let's bring these up to the common room first, though."

A few minutes later, the three were on their way down to the Quidditch stadium. "I'm glad you came willingly," Sirius said, coming up beside her, "because I promised James that you would be there, and the idea of tying you up and dragging you didn't seem too appealing."

"Indeed, it doesn't," Remus said, looking around Sirius to catch her eyes. Hermione noticed that he seemed to be doing that a lot lately. "I'm actually glad you came up to retrieve us. We needed a bit of a break from all that studying and research we've been doing."

"I agree completely. Unfortunately, the break can't be too long though because we do have the O.W.L.s to worry about at the end of term," Hermione said. It was odd, but for the first time ever, she wasn't looking forward to the end of the term exams. Usually she was pleased to take them, and she always did well, but this year she was dreading the idea of tests. Perhaps I've been spending too much time with this lot, she thought with a small laugh.

"What's so funny?" Sirius asked curiously, but Hermione merely shrugged. "No matter, we're almost there."

The Quidditch stadium and pitch was another thing that hadn't seemed to change in twenty years. The benches were just as worn looking now as they had looked in the future, and the grass seemed to be the same shade of green.

Hermione, Remus, and Sirius all hurried to the Gryffindor section of the stands where Peter had been saving them a front-row spot. He pulled four pairs of magnifying goggles out of a bag by his feet, handing one to each of their little group.

She thanked him, holding the lenses up to her eyes and scanning the sky for James. She finally saw him, shooting down the middle of the pitch with the Quaffle in hand. In fact, if it wasn't for the Quaffle he was holding, Hermione would have easily been able to mistake him for Harry.

Harry. I wonder what he's doing right now, she thought. Would he be in the middle of a lesson, or was there a Quidditch match in their time too? Would Dumbledore have reassured him that she would be all right, or did the Dumbledore of her time even know what had happened? Did everyone think she was dead, or simply gone away? Better yet, did anyone think of her at all?

Hermione felt the goggles slip from her hands, landing on the stand with an loud thump. Peter and Remus turned to look at her, while Sirius merely glanced from her to the goggles and then turned his attention back to the game. She could feel the other two boys' eyes boring into her, and she backed away as if their gazes were acidic.

"Hermione, are you all right?"

She heard Remus's concerned voice float into her mind, but could not bring herself to form the words to answer him. Hermione stumbled back again, bumping into her housemates as she groped her way along the rail to the stairs.

"Hey! Watch it!" someone shouted at her, but she continued pushing on.

"Hermione?" Remus was coming closer to her now, closer with every step until he was nearly on top of her.

She turned, calling "I'm sorry" over her shoulder as she bolted out of the stadium and onto the grounds below. Hermione tried running through the snow that blanketed the ground, but it would not allow it. It was early March, and the air was bitingly cold, stinging her lungs with every gasping breath she dragged in.

"Hermione!"

She could hear his footsteps pounding onto the frozen ground behind her, but she never slowed her pace. She had to get away; she needed to think. Harry, Ron... where are you?

"Hermione!"

His hand was upon her shoulder, and she swung out with her arm, connecting with his rib cage. He released her with a slight groan. The footsteps continued. It would take more than that to lose him.

"Hermione?"

He reached out to her again, but she brushed him away, continuing on her path towards, well, anywhere but the Quidditch stadium she supposed. Finally, he resigned himself to just following her, calling her name out every once in a while as if to check that she really existed at all.

After an hour of wandering in the bitter cold, Hermione finally paused by the lake. She was shivering, but it didn't matter to her. All she could think of was Ron and Harry. Their faces were emblazoned on her mind, consuming her thoughts, until finally, all she could do was sob. The tears flowed freely, as they had been threatening to do for so many months now.

Hermione felt his arms first. They surrounded her, ever so gently, until finally she was crushed against his chest, his face buried in her hair as hers was in his robes. They stood there for what seemed like an eternity, her staining his robes with her grief, and he whispering comforting words into her ear.

In fact, it was his soft breath against her ear that broke Hermione from her fit of tears. Pulling away from him, she wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her robe and sighed. "I'm sorry. I didn't intend for you to see me like this."

"Like what?" he asked softly. "All I see is the same girl that I've always seen. The brave one that lost her entire existence in a moment, but never let it weaken her." He seemed to study her carefully for a moment, then pulled her closer to him until she was flush against him. "Every day you amaze me, Hermione. No one else could handle everything you do and still be so beautiful inside."

She sniffled, wishing, for a moment, that she could just melt into his arms and forget about all her worries. But it was just for a moment, and after it had passed, the weight of her situation came crashing back down again and the tears returned. "I know you think I'm strong, but I'm not. I'm just a weak, tired little girl who wants to go back home."

He pulled back again, and she looked up at him with wide, tearful eyes. For the second time that week, her breath caught in her throat. However, this time it was due to the fact that Remus Lupin was leaning in dangerously close to her lips. Closer, closer, and then suddenly they were upon hers and she could think of nothing else but this kiss, in this moment, and how perfect it all seemed.

But that moment could only last for so long, and when they parted, she felt the bitter cold seep into her once more.

Hermione touched her lips in shock, then looked up at him. "I'm sorry," she murmured as she half-ran, half-stumbled her way towards the school. This time, the footsteps didn't follow.