Hermione wasn't in the mood to give Sirius a tour of the place - not just now, not when there was so much she wanted to talk to Harry about. Fortunately, Sirius seemed to have similar intentions - she figured he, James, and Remus had managed to arrange a meeting, as well. That or he just wanted to sleep, which was more than understandable - it was nine in the morning, and none of them had slept.

Her curiousity got somewhat the better of her, though, and instead of just pointing him down the stairs, she led the way. Since he already knew that her room was upstairs from his, she didn't mention it, but did point out the corridor to the right, at the bottom of the stairs, which led to Harry's room and so also to James'. She really wanted a good look at Sirius' room, but only got a peek as Sirius bid her good night and slipped in. What she saw surprised her.

So far, the rooms she'd seen - hers and Harry's - had expressly suited the personalities of their owners. Harry's was green, and very... somber, but comfortable. Sirius' room was done entirely in black with white highlights, in stark, utilitarian designs. Perhaps, though, this was because these rooms had been selected for their occupants somewhat at random, where the other rooms had been... intended, in some sense, for the time travelers. Promising herself she'd look into the whole thing later, she turned and headed for Harry's room.

The door was open, Harry waiting for her on a somewhat-squashy, dark green sueded leather couch. The trim of the room was mostly a striking shade of grey, though there were subtle highlights of both gold and silver. The combined effect was that of subtle power, giving off a feeling that might be intimidating, though Hermione herself felt oddly comforted by that power. Much like Harry himself. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that she completely and utterly trusted the one who was in possession of that power.

She tucked herself into the opposite corner of the couch he was on, and brought her feet up to sit indian-style facing him, settling her back against the armrest. He smiled at her juvenile perch, and she grinned back at him "I'm hardly going to pass up the opportunity to act eleven again."

Harry couldn't help but grin back at her, infectious as her cheerfulness was. "Makes me halfway hope we're stuck like this" he said, then whispered "it's been a long time since there was anything to smile about, y'know?"

Her look turned serious, and she reached forward to put a comforting hand on his. "I know, Harry. I know."

"So." Harry began, "There are so many things we have to talk about, so many things to decide, that I don't even know where to begin."

Hermione sighed. "There are, at that."

"Hermione, do you think we should, well, have a sort of a memorial. For, well, for everyone." Harry's voice fell to a whisper. "For our whole world."

She shook her head, and spoke firmly. "I haven't given up on going back to them yet, Harry."

"But, this bond. Hermione, we can't…"

"Yes, we may change things. I don't know what will happen, Harry, and neither do you. We may not even end up forming the bond, might find a way back, and Dumbledore will obliviate everyone after we go. You can't know. We can only do the best we can do, here and now."

Harry nodded, but spoke again. "But if we can't go back, Herms, what then?"

Hermione sighed, feeling it so hard to reassure her friend, when she herself was so uncertain. "Then, Harry, and only when we're sure, then yes, we'll have a memorial. And we'll make certain it's an event to remember, even over the course of the next three hundred or whatever number of years we live."

Hermione didn't catch that she had said "when" instead of "if" – but Harry did. He knew what she was doing, and he thanked her. But he really rather thought it would be healthier for them to get used to the time they were in, and make the best of it. For now, though, he'd let her pretend, and he would pretend right along with her. He knew she needed to ignore reality for a bit, every bit as much as he did.

So he started a conversation revolving around everything they should and shouldn't tell the marauders, and what bits of it would be safe to mention in front of Draco or Neville. They talked long into the night, until the conversation died down into sitting comfortably side-by-side, occasionally making points on things they'd forgotten.

Long about three in the morning, Harry felt himself dozing off. He felt Hermione tug a blanket over him, and found that he was entirely content to remain on the couch. The last thing he heard was the click of the lock, as she shut the door.

It was nine thirty in the morning, and Hermione was wide awake. She was also certain she was the only one who was.

It was about time they got down to really discussing things. Hermione was tempted to make use of the incredible table in the midst of the room, but something held her back. There was a sense of magic about it, that somehow both called to her, and pushed her away. Instead, she settled down in the Ravenclaw section of the room.

The section-decision was calculated. She knew she couldn't settle in either the Hufflepuff or Gryffindor sections, else everyone would be distracted. Frankly, the Slytherin section would be the best choice, as it was set up for plotting and planning, but she was worried about house prejudices. Ravenclaw, however, was comfortably neutral.

Hermione Grinned at herself. "Comfortably Neutral" was exactly what she herself wished to be, especially in the coming discussion. Perhaps she was projecting her feelings on her new house? Then she frowned. No, she didn't wish to be entirely neutral. No one can really be neutral, with a madman like Voldemort on the loose.

Seeing as no meeting had been "officially" called, she expected there would be rather a long wait, before anyone else appered. Itwas most likely everyone'd had a late night, all things considered. If the rest were anything like Harry and Ron had always been, she would find herself sitting here until one or two. Though Ron, unlike Harry, wouldnt've gotten up, even had she tried to wake him.

Then, Hermione realized what she was thinking. Ron. Ron wasn't here.Ron wouldn't be there to be woken up, not ever again. Oh, gods, she missed Ron. She'd been trying her hardest not to think about it, to convince herself there was a chance they would all be going back, even if only for the sake of the others. Caught up as she'd been in the whole anti-aging crisis, she had even forgotten her plan to get everyone focused on something.

Hermione snorted. No need for the old plan anymore. Reality had provided them with ample distraction, in the form of the bonds. Even now, she was distracted by it. Distracted from everyone she'd left behind, everything she would never do. Not just Ron, but her parents, her friends. Her schooling - everything she'd ever done was completely meaningless, as now, it hadn't happened.

She found herself sobbing, clutching a pillow, without even realizing she'd begun crying. Everything seemed to come down on her at once, and she let it come. No-one was there to see; no one she had to be strong for. For just now, just these moments, she could let herself be weak.

There was no-one now, for her. No parents, none of the mentors she'd always had to rely on. Harry was here, sure, but he always relied on HER. She was alone, now; abandoned. The tears fell down, soaking the pillow, and she wished, more than anything, that she could cry on a shoulder instead of a bit of cloth and cotton. But her mothers' hands would never gently brush away tears again; her father would never pull her into his arms and tell her it would be all be okay.

She tried to keep herself quiet, not wanting to wake the others, not wanting them to know. But it felt as though her world were ending. In some ways, it had. The world in which she'd awoken just two days ago, never would be again.

"Why me? Oh, God, why me? Nothing, nothing I've ever done, ever been, has mattered. There's no one I matter to, no one knows who I am or what I stand for. Nothing has counted, not for anything. I may as well have died. Why couldn't I have? Why couldn't I just have died from it?" Hermione pleaded. Her breath caught in her throat, and she whispered past the pain. "Lost, so lost. Everything lost. Nothing. No-one. No-one to cry to, never again."

Then, almost as though she'd summoned them, warm, rough hands, much like her fathers', gently tugged the pillow from her grasp, and pulled her toward their bearer. She fought, for a moment, stubbornly trying to keep curled in on herself, but the other wouldn't have it, and she relaxed. Strong arms wrapped around her, and pulled her close; enveloping her in familiarity, in the scent of one she knew she could trust. He didn't speak, not a word, and she hadn't opened her eyes; yet she knew, without a doubt, who held her.

It should, perhaps, have been akward. While Remus Lupin had been her mentor since third year, and her friend since she spent all of last summer at Grimmauld place, this younger Remus knew none of that. He had no memories of the time she'd been forced to stay in the old, dingy house for her own safety. No recollection of mourning both the loss of Sirius, and Ginny's capture early this past June.

Yet no matter the differences, this Remus was much the same. He must've heard her crying, with his wolven hearing. He might easily have ignored the sound, but he hadn't. He might have, in trying to comfort her, sat akwardly beside her, uncomfortably patting her back and mumbling meaningless words of consolation. He hadn't.

Instead, he had refused to let her cry alone, pulling her to him despite her protests, exactly as the Remus of the future would've. It was enough to convince her to let go, to simply cry, and get it all out. She cried for what seemed like hours, and still, he made no move of protest. Finally, slowly, she stilled, sobs quieting. She shifted, to pull herself away, and he tugged her closer for a moment, before letting go.

"Thanks" Hermione whispered, greatfully, suddenly feeling timid.

Remus only smiled, softly, watching her.

"I- I suppose I should tell you why -"

"I heard." Remus said simply.

"Oh, er...yeah, I guess you would have." Hermione blushed. "I didn't really mean, you know, any of those things I was saying."

"Yes, you did."

Hermione ducked her head. "Yeah. I did."

They sat, silent a moment, the words hanging between them.

Remus watched her a while, as though trying to decide how to word something. Abruptly, he spoke. "You aren't, you know."

"Aren't what?"

"Alone. You have your friend, Harry. And James, he's practically decided to adopt you, with this bonding thing. Which means you have us, too. Sirius, and Peter. And, well, me."

He paused, his expression softening, and looked her straight in the eyes. "Don't ever wish yourself dead."

Hermione flinched. "It's not so easy to do as to say."

"I know." Remus responded, the words carrying the weight of personal experience. "Things will happen. Lots of those things will be terrible. But they will always end, and there will always be something good that comes of them, when all is said and done."

"What good could possibly come of this?" Hermione whispered, sadly, looking to Remus for an answer, for hope.

"We might not know all the answer to that for years, yet. But here's some of it: us, Hermione. This bond. It's a guarantee that, no matter what, you will always have us, or, at the very least, James. That's not a guarantee many have."

"I... hadn't thought of it that way." Hermione said.

"I know. And, bond or not, you've also got us. Sirius and I. And our friend, Peter, too, I'm sure."

Hermione suddenly looked very uncertain. "Remus, about that, there's something we have to tell you. It's about -"

"Hermione, you're up early." A voice interrupted.

"Hey, Harry. And no, I'm not, you're up late. It's nearly noon." Hermione said.

"It's before noon still? Well, then, like I said; early."

Hermione laughed at this, but then sobered. "I was just about to tell Remus about Peter."

"Oh." Harry said. "No, not yet, Hermione. Wait until everyone's up, first. I don't want to tell that story twice."

"What about Peter?" Remus asked, sounding worried. "Does he die? Does he get hurt, or unfairly imprisoned, or...what?"

Hermione exchanged a glance with Harry. Since he was still standing behind Remus, Harry could signal in their code without Remus knowing. I want to tell them all at the same time. He said. They won't believe us. Don't trust us yet. I want that fight only once. Anyways, we have lots to get through before that. Wait. Please.

Hermione sighed, and returned fine, but I disagree.

Remus caught her movement, and looked between them speculatively. "And what was that about?"

"We're going to wait to tell everyone at once." Hermione responded. Then, catching his look of worry "It's nothing that happens so soon that a few hours will matter."

Remus looked skeptical. Hermione sighed. "I swear. On my honor as a Phoenixer." Then, realizing her mistake, clapped a hand over her mouth. Harry rolled his eyes, and snorted.

Remus looked at her with an odd mixture of surprise and respect. "Don't worry, I won't ask about it, and I won't tell the others."

"Won't tell the others what?" Called a voice. James was apparently awake, coming across the room followed by Sirius.

"Nevermind about that, what's for lunch?" Sirius asked.

Hermione laughed. "Males and food." She regarded James and Sirius quizzically. "You know, I didn't figure a single one of you would be up before noon."

Sirius grinned in return "We weren't. It's twelve fourteen. And Remus, here, has always been an early riser." He shook his head, and sighed. "Mad, if you ask me."

The mood in the room had definately lightened. Harry was practically glowing at his father and godfather, he was so happy to see him alive and well. He grinned to Hermione, and signed Wow. I'm so happy he's here.

Hermione just grinned back.

Sirius and James, and to a lesser extent Remus, were simply disgruntled that information was changing hands and they were unaware of its contents. James voiced an opinion for all of them. "You know, it isn't fair to know our code while we don't know yours. Whyever did you develop your own, anyways, if you knew ours?"

"Likely to hide their misdeeds from us, Sirius, considering we're the responsible adults in their time." Remus said.

Harry and Hermione sighed at the same time. The cheerful mood was gone as suddenly as it had come. They'd developed the code for use in battles; made their own because Pettigrew knew the Marauders' code. They'd never had the proper time to use it for mischief.

"Let's wait on that, until after lunch." Harry said. The others nodded, having felt the change in atmosphere.

"Speaking of lunch" James said, "I do believe that table's got it for us."

The others glanced over, surprised and somewhat puzzled. The table, the one at the far end by the window, did, in fact, appear to be piled in food. A mad dash ensued, for places around the table, as though the teens thought they might not get anything to eat should they take too long in getting there. Even Hermione participated in the charge, excusing it as part of feeling "eleven".

She did, however, think it immature to eat without Neville and Draco. She commented on it, pausing in the midst of filling her own plate. "Um, guys?" She paused, uncertain how to refer to them, but continued after a moment "shouldn't we see if Neville and Draco are up, and if they want anything?"

"They're up." James and Sirius answered at the same time. "We checked before we came out here, actually." James continued. "Your Neville... he's not so happy about this all, but he's been up for a while. Was finishing his own lunch, when we dropped by. Apologized for being short with us last night, and asked us to pass on a message to you. Says he's dealing with it, but doesn't want to talk about it, and not to bother him, or to expect him out for a while. Draco, on the other hand... well, we went to talk to him. He's... I don't exactly know how he is. Anyways, I don't expect he'll be joining us anytime soon."

Hermione sighed, swallowing a mouthful of hashbrown. "That's just as well. We've a lot to tell you, that doesn't concern them."

The three marauders exchanged glances. "Same goes with us, actually."

"My room would be best, I think, for conversations." James said. "Do, er... I feel foolish asking this of eleven-year-olds, but do either of you know how to put up a silencing charm?"

"Of course." Hermione said, feeling the question almost an insult to her intelligence.

"Hermione" Harry warned, "You look eleven just now, not sixteen. And there isn't a war on, here. They don't have the same sorts of pressures we did."

"Actually" Remus said, "There is a war on. Only no-one wants to teach children anything, seeming to assume that we can't be hurt by spells we don't know."

"It's scary, you know, how much you are like your older self." Hermione said. "I do believe you used exactly that point to convince Dumbledore to let us train for battle, and to join the Ord- um, the, ah..." Hermione glanced at Harry, pleadingly.

"It's okay, Hermone, we know about the order. All our parents are in it." James responded.

Sirius snorted, muttering something that sounded like "I wish" under his breath.

"Sirius, I count my parents as being yours, you know that." James said.

"Yeah, I know, Jamie. Just... bothers me sometimes. You know?"

James clasped his friend on the shoulder. "I know, Siri."

"Right, what were we saying?" Sirius asked.

"I believe the basic gist of it was 'we should go talk some stuff out, and put up silencing charms." Remus responded.

Hermione, realizing Professor Dumbledore arrive any time, added "We really should get to talking, then; the Headmaster said he'd be by today, and there are some things we need to discuss before he comes."

Her suggestion was met with nods of approval, and the teens rose, heading for James' room. They soon discovered why he'd suggested it. It was nearly as Ravenclaw-ish as Hermione's room, except that it was also, very obviously, intended for gatherings; it had a living room. It wasn't exceptionally spacious, but the room quite comfortably seated the five of them, and would have seated twice as many in a squeeze.

Harry and Hermione shared a glance, and Hermione raised her wand for the silencing charm.