Lilly had led the chase for hours, now - searching the castle from the owlery to the great hall. The only place they'd been unwilling to check - sadly, the place they were most likely to find the absent potions genius - were the dungeons. Lilly had wanted to start there, but Hermione had been adamant - risking her being seen, or even Remus being seen - wandering the dungeons would be inviting disaster. And sending Lilly there apparently alone (both Remus and Hermione were hiding under the invisibility cloak) would be inviting an attack. Lilly protested that she often went down to meet Severus for tutoring. And Hermione knew full well - and told her companions- that meeting a Slytherin in their dungeons implied the protection of that Slytherin. Going down in search of him un-called-for implied no such thing.

So they'd searched the rest of the castle in the off chance that he'd taken to wandering for the day. It was getting on towards evening, and they'd seen no sight of him. They had, however, discovered something that just might be of equal importance; each other. Hermione being herself had begun, early into their wanderings, chattering on about the history, relevance, or significance of this, that, or the other. She did, after all, have an audience that hadn't heard it all from her before – an opportunity she'd not really had since first year.

She was disappointed when Remus first interrupted her – but only for a moment. Because, unlike Harry or Ron might once have, Remus hadn't interrupted to say he didn't care to know, or that she was speaking over his head, or to tell her she was odd for knowing such things. He had, in fact, interrupted because he already knew what she was telling – and had heard a different view on it. Hermione was stunned into silence for a minute, but only for a minute; she quickly formed an argument for her original statement. The discussion soon evolved into a point-and-counterpoint discussion of wizarding history, and as they both began ranting on the views of wizards towards muggles, magical creatures, and mixes of all sorts, they were both startled to hear a third voice joining the debate.

And so the hours had passed, seeming less like a half-boring-half-strenuous search for someone they doubted they'd soon find but were seeking almost-desperately, and more like a fascinating round-table debate on every topic they could manage to cover. They knew, after all, that they'd find Snape at dinner, and that, despite their current sense of urgency, it was really rather unlikely that anything drastic would happen to Harry or Draco in a few hours. Besides which, Hermione had the utmost confidence that Snape would easily create the counter-potion, and her confidence had rubbed off on both of her new friends. For that was what the three most certainly were, now; friends.

They'd found in each other something they'd always found lacking, however forgivable, in those they were closest to. Remus and Lilly had, of course, met before. Under any other circumstances, however, they wouldnt've been unlikely to really talk, the closest they came being prefect duty. Their friends, or, mainly, James, stood between them.

Hermione, for her part, was simply thrilled. There was still the aching sadness of Ron's absence, and she was hardly trying to replace him, but her grief was more… controlled, in the presence of these others. She was thankful for the distraction they were providing, pleased by the chance to speak about her opinions and beliefs to someone who had well-formed ideas of their own. It was almost a shock to find such things in someone her own age, let alone two such someones. It was even more amazing, however much it shouldn't have mattered, to find that sort of companionship with another girl. She was truly, deeply happy that Lilly would be bonding with Neville; that if Hermione were stuck for the next however-so-many years in this timeline, that someone like Lilly would be around to keep her sane. She was also, however, struck by the sharp knowledge that Remus wouldn't be bonding with anyone, and that his curse would likely take him from the realm of life even sooner than most.

Lilly was even more delighted than Hermione about the whole thing. Without the lingering grief that was plaguing the other girl, she was free to simply revel in the newfound companionship. Lilly also, unlike Hermione, had never really had any close friends. The other girls in her dorm were vapish and flitty; rather foolish and stereotypical examples of teenage girls. The males in her generation were, on a whole, little better than the Marauders, whom she thought were unequivocally the worst sort of lazy, boisterous boys.

And Remus? Remus was simply thrilled.

They were tucked away, back in the common room, waiting for Lilly to return with Severus. Dinner was laid out on the table in front of them, mostly ignored, tucked in between the multitude of books that covered every available surface as they sorted out what they could.

But the thrilling feeling of earlier had faded, replaced by an anxiety that Remus knew all-too-well the source of, and hated it all the more for knowing.

"I have to ask you something." Remus said.

Hermione looked up from her text inquringly.

"Do you care... you know, about me being a ... about what I am?"

"That you're a werewolf?"

Remus flinched. "Yeah. About that." He wasn't quite sure why he asked her that - or if he wanted to know the answer.

"Nope."

Remus stared. "You're kidding." Even James, and Sirius, and Peter had cared when they first found out. Oh, but then -

"I guess you've known for a while, then, huh?"

"Since Third year. Three years, if you're curious. But it didn't bother me then, either, if that's what you're thinking." Hermione said.

Remus was stunned. "I... it... it didn't?"

"Nope."

Remus quirked a half-smile. "You know, I might end up with one of these bonds, you know, and have my older-selfs' memory. No sense in lying, you know."

Hermione turned a tad cold. "I'm not lying. And I wouldn't lie to you, not about something like that. I would never -"

Hermione froze.

"What?" Remus asked. "Remember your /actual/ reaction?" He said bitterly. For a moment, just a moment, he'd thought he found someone who was different. Someone who wouldn't always have that subconcious fear and aversion. Someone with whom he could be just a friend, and not a monster or a pity case; someone who saw him as human.

"No" Hermione's voice was a whisper, but it cut through his musings.

"What, then?"

"It didn't bother me when I found out. Not at all. I swear"

"What were you going to say, then?" Remus' voice was quieter, now.

"I - I was going to say that I'd never hold it against you. But I did, once."

"Yeah. I thought so." He turned away.

"Not like that. Look, this would be so much simpler if you remembered. And I almost wish I could lie, about this. But" Hermione sighed. "It was when we found out about Peter, and about Sirius. We thought Sirius was the one who had betrayed Harry's parents. And you came in, and embraced him - we didn't know what was going on. We thought - no, I thought. I thought, for a minute, that you were in league with him. That I had been wrong in not telling anyone about you - I was the only one that had known, for a year. And, for just that minute, just that one, I held it against you. Held it against you that you were a Werewolf."

"Oh." Remus didn't quite know what to say. He wasn't entirely certain he understood. "Could you, er... I mean, what did you..."

Hermione bit her lip. "Look. There's... I could show you, if you want. You'd see it as me, and know what I felt. If you want, that is."

Remus blinked. He certainly didn't feel any /less/ confused. "Huh?"

Hermione sighed. "It's sort of like a cross between Legillimency and using a pensive, except instead of me looking in your mind you'd see into mine. It's a tad disorienting, but I swear it's not dangerous or anything."

Legilly-what? Remus had no idea what she meant. She wanted him to look into her mind? "Um, I guess..."

"Don't worry, I'll cast the spell. All you have to do is, er... 'allow' it, okay?" Uncharacteristically nervous, Hermione didn't even give him the time to respond. Suddenly she grabbed his hands from his lap, saying '/snemilligel!"

And suddenly, Remus found himself inside her memories. And not just watching, like in a pensive... he was /her/. He felt what she could, even as he felt his own reactions to it. Scenes rushed past, and he felt as though he were in an immense, dark room, watching as images and feelings swirled and crashed in every direction.

As quickly as it had started, the rushing stopped, and he found himself in a place that was, recognizably, the shrieking shack. It was as though time were frozen; no-one was moving. And he was staring at Sirius Black - only he wasn't. The man in front of him bore so very little resemblance to the Sirius he knew, that he wouldn't have even recognized him, if it weren't for Hermione's recognition of the being in front of him. He got the feeling Hermione had stopped things, in order to let him get a feel of where he was, and what was going on. Examining Sirius, he looked wasted, skeletal even; Remus felt Hermione's fear of the man, and he could understand how she believed him a murderer.

And then, it was as though someone pressed the "play" button. Remus watched himself burst through the door, calling the wands of everyone in the room, and embracing Sirius. He felt Hermione's indignation, her pain at having trusted him, and having covered what he was. He felt her defeat, as she "learned" that "everything the wizarding world says about werewolves" was "right". He felt the echoing sadness that they must be right about Muggle-borns as well. He realized that she'd held him - the older him - up as an example, as a role-model; that one didn't have to be what society claimed them. That /she/ didn't have to be a "dirty Mudblood", just because people called her such. Her feelings of betrayal became almost overwhelming, and then he heard her declare his secret. Spitting out the name of what he was like so many had spat "Mudblood" at her. He felt her pain, her own feelings of having betrayed him, even as memory-Hermione tried to squash them.

And then, he was pulling out of the memory. For just a second, he was Hermione. Not dream-Hermione, but present day Hermione, and he knew what she knew, felt as she felt. And suddenly, he knew exactly why she'd wanted him to see that.

She wanted his forgiveness. She felt infinitely guilty about what she'd said, and had never quite had the courage to tell his older self, or to ask for forgiveness. It had, or so she felt, always stood between them. And now, Hermione was feeling that she would never have the chance, feeling the loss of his older self. It was an odd emotion, for Remus, feeling someone grieve in a way for your loss, when you were right there. But she was right, the person that he was in that memory, was someone he now would never become.

So now she was asking his forgiveness, even if he couldn't /quite/ grant it, in place of his older self. His professor-self and Hermione had apparently become fairly close, over the course of the year, and she felt he'd been distant with her in some ways, for a long time after that night. Remus - 14-year-old Remus - couldn't imagine why his older self had been distant. He did know that, whatever it was, it had nothing to do with that moment, or her accusation.

Then he was himself again - simply himself.

He almost couldn't believe what he'd just witnessed. She hadn't held it against him. And he'd hardly hold it against her that she'd assumed any and all sorts of horrible things of him in the situation she described - the situation he'd just lived.

He hated what he had to say to her, knowing how it would affect her. But he just couldn't bring himself to lie. "I can't forgive you, Hermione."

"Wha - ?" Hermione was speechless for a moment, obviously surprised, but then she composed herself. "I... I understand, Remus. I... I just... I think I need to go. I'm sorry. I really am, you know." Hermione finished in a rush; by the end, her voice had fallen to a whisper. She jumped up from the sofa, turning to dash off.

Remus shot out a hand "Wait."

Hermione didn't even turn back to him, but she stopped.

Gently, Remus continued. "What I meant was, I can't forgive you for him. Because I'm not him, Hermione. Not more than just a bit."

"But you are, Remus. You can't not be - the way you talk, the way you... just the way you are. You might be older, but - "

"But I haven't experienced the very thing you want my forgiveness for, Hermione."

"I - oh. I... I know. I know you're right. I knew, even before. I shouldn't have asked that of you. I was just... hoping, you know." She turned towards him again, and offered a soft, sad smile.

"Don't go yet, Hermione. The point is... what I mean to say is, I can't forgive you. But he did."

There were tears in her eyes by now, but Hermione refused to let them fall. "You can't know that. Just like you can't forgive me."

"Trust me on this, Hermione. I may not be him, but I'd like to think I'd know him better than - well, than most, anyway. And he/I, would never/never/ hold that against you. Not when even my best friends reacted badly, having known me for almost two years. I don't hold it against them, and what you did, what you said - it wasn't even -"

But Remus didn't get a chance to finish, as a brown blur launched itself at him. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

"I didn't do anything, you know, Hermione."

She pulled back away to smile at him wetly. "Yeah, you did."

"You had to have suspected how I, or, er, he?" Remus sighed. "You had to have suspected that's what my-his reaction was."

"I did. But I just - with all this, you know? With everything that's happened, I needed to know." She quieted. "What if you do complete a bond, and it turns out you're wrong?"

"Hermione, listen to me. I swear, if I complete the bond, I'll forgive you. For real and truly, alright? It'll be the first thing I say afterwords, and that's a promise."

"How do you know? How can you -"

"Listen to me, Hermione. He wouldn't have held it against you."

Hermione stared at him. "I thought you said -"

"I can't forgive you for him, because I'm not him, and I won't be. Not unless I bond, and even then -" Remus broke off, but it was obvious what he would have said. If he were to attempt the bond, it was more likely that he'd die, in the worst case even bringing Harry - if indeed he and Harry were compatable - with him.

"What I mean is, even though I'm not the... the person I became, in your time. Even though I'm not him, I'd like to think certain fundamental bits of me wouldn't change. And I wouldn't hold it against you. He didn't hold it against you. I doubt he even gave it a second thought, after that."

"But you, that is he... was so... distant, after that. It got better, later, but it was like there was always this thing..."

"Trust me, Hermione, it wasn't that. Perhaps you were projecting your feelings, your worries, onto m-, ah, him?"

Hermione sighed. Yes, that was entirely possible. And entirely like her, too, making more of a situation than was there.

"You're right."

"Just trust me, Hermione. I almost hope I get the chance to prove it to you."

Hermione gave him another watery smile, but hugged him again just the same.

Remus smiled at her. "That said, how 'bout we go back to our books?"

Hermione grinned at him, and Remus couldn't help but returning the sentiment. He'd never had anyone who shared his enjoyment of learning and reading to talk with before. When Hermione bounced back to her seat, and tugged a tome up onto her lap that was about half her size, dusty and old enough that James or Sirius would've run screaming for simply having caught sight of it - that even he might have balked at reading it - Remus couldn't help but grinning.

Lilly felt oddly conspicuous at the Gryffindor table, in the absence of her companions. As though they'd sat and walked by her side all her life, the space around her seemed to be specifically made for them. It was unsettling, to say the least; she'd only spent the morning with them, after all. She prided herself on her cool calculation, purposely kept a distance from most others, but in the course of only a day she'd gotten herself attached to people she knew little about. Still, it was hard to be upset by the lonliness. The comfortable companionship of the morning seemed to settle a sort of fuzzy glow to her emotions.

She reveled in it for a moment, but was brought sharply to earth when she met Severus' eyes. He was quite aware of the change from her normal state, and she flushed when she realized how obvious she'd been. A glint in the Slytherins' eye hinted amusement, and Lilly forced the heat from her cheeks to meet his gaze levelly. Once certain she had his attention, she gestured towards her books, and raised an eyebrow. He cocked his head, studied her a moment, then nodded. She smiled at him... and he retaliated with a smirk, before returning to his dinner.

It was almost a code, between them, though not anything nearly so obvious or definite as what the Marauders used. More a sly game of "guess-what-I'm-inferring", played between two intellectuals who tended to delight more in the subtlety of the game than in actually getting a message across. Tonight's message had been quite simple, though, as Lilly didn't want any chance at confusion. She was, however, amused to note that Severus seemed to know her intentions might not be purely to do with studying, from the way he was watching her. She almost grinned as she realized it had been the very obviousness of the message that had given her away – the simplicity of the message had, obviously (at least to Snape) been hiding something more.

Conscious of his eyes on her, but carefully not looking his way, Lilly gathered her things to her, and proceeded out of the Great Hall. She walked slowly in the direction of the Library, which was high enough up that he could easily catch sight of her on a staircase, even if it were a few minutes before he escaped dinner.

Having accomplished her mission for the present, Lilly felt oddly anxious. There was a great deal that could go wrong in the next space of time, and she certainly hoped Hermione had accounted for it. Spy Severus might be in the future - or in Hermione's past, at any rate - but for now he had not even become the death eater that brought that about.

Lilly jumped when someone tapped her shoulder. Spinning, she realized he'd snuck up on her… again.

The look on his face was almost a smile – for Severus. His eyes sparkled, though whether it was from catching her unawares, or curiosity over whatever she was hiding, Lilly didn't know. Assuming the latter, she offered him a half-mocking, all-knowing smile. "Good evening, Severus"

"Evans." He responded, giving a slight bow of his head.

He still used her last name, even though he'd asked her, long ago, now, to use his first. She, of course, had suggested he use her first name as well, but he'd declined. Somehow, though, where it might have felt a stiff formality from anyone else, from Severus it seemed… almost a gesture of respect.

She held her silence, playing the game, certain that his curiosity would win out over his stubbornness. She knew, somehow, that to win this game would win respect. Respect she'd need, if she planned on convincing him to help.

A moment later, she was proven right. The glitter in his eyes seemed a life force of its' own, seeming an odd mixture of pride, respect, and curiosity. "And what might this be about?"