Unbeknownst to anyone, Hermione hadn't had a proper night's sleep since the night she had nearly drowned. Whether she tossed and turned until two or three in the morning trying to get to sleep or was woken with a jolt by a nightmare that faded before she came to full consciousness, the result was the same. Hermione was not sleeping more than three hours a night at best.
For the life of her, she didn't know what was wrong. All she knew was that she felt a restlessness in her spirit that wouldn't let her be. When she was able to aid Dumbledore in the war against Voldemort and his Death Eaters, she had felt driven and useful. She had slept well then. Now that Dumbledore had refused her help, she felt like she lacked purpose. She felt powerless to stop what she feared was coming.
Hermione did her best during the day to tire herself out. She spent endless hours studying in the library, she went for long walks with Remus every afternoon after class, and she even stayed up in the common room playing chess, exploding snap, or just gossiping with the rest of her friends. But as soon as her head hit her pillow, her eyes seemed to snap open.
It was in these late hours, and only then, that she dwelled on the night she had seen Harry and Ron in her vision. The longer time passed, the more sure she was that she had been with them that night. But that did little to comfort her. Harry had started to tell her of the Department of Mysteries and the room with the time turners and she knew that the answers to all her questions would be there. The problem she now faced was deciding whether she really wanted answers.
Hermione was getting very good at hiding her lack of sleep from everyone. When exhaustion and crankiness seemed just about to overtake her she would excuse herself and seek out a few minutes of solitude to get herself together. She also began using spells to cover the darkening circles under her eyes.
For the most part it worked. No one seemed to notice that Hermione was on the verge of a serious mental break down. No one, that is, except Sirius. He watched, in the weeks following her accident, as the brightness in her eyes seemed to dim. He also noticed that she rarely smiled anymore. She laughed at every joke she was told, but never smiled and the laughter never seemed to reach her eyes.
One late night when everyone had gone to bed, but Hermione and himself, he approached her. She was sitting on the floor hunched over a long roll of parchment, a quill in her right hand.
"Hermione," he began tentatively.
"What?" she asked looking up, trying desperately to keep the edge from her voice.
"Why don't you call it a night," he suggested. "You look dead tired."
"Can't," she said through a yawn. "I've got to finish this Transfiguration Essay."
"That's not due for another week," he remarked.
"I don't want to get behind," she replied testily.
He sat down carefully next to her, not saying anything, just watching. After a few minutes, Hermione threw down her quill and turned angrily to him. "What?"
He shifted uncomfortably, but matched her gaze. "Are you going to tell me what's the matter with you, or should I start to guess?"
"Sirius," she began the irritation clear in her voice. "What are you on about? I'm trying to finish this essay."
He bit back the sarcastic comment that came immediately to mind. "I'm just worried about you, ok. You're not yourself lately."
Hermione looked at him warily. "I'm fine," she said returning to her essay. Sirius reached over and plucked the quill from her hand. "Hey," she protested. "Give it back," she said grabbing for the quill.
"No," said Sirius stubbornly. "Not until you tell me what's wrong." Hermione pushed him back forcefully and pinned him to the ground. Sirius grunted with pain as her knees dug into his side. She yanked the quill from his hand and pushed herself back up.
Sirius didn't sit up, but watched her curiously as she hunched back over her parchment and resumed her scribbling. He was so flabbergasted by what she had just done. They had tussled often enough, but always in a playful and teasing manner. It wasn't like Hermione to be rough. She was always so gentle and patient with everyone. He saw nothing but hollowness in her eyes.
Sirius slowly pulled himself up, never taking his eyes from her. He settled himself back on the couch and watched her in astonishment until she gathered her things and stormed up to her room without so much as a backwards glance at him.
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Remus and Hermione were walking around the castle grounds. Remus was doing his best to keep the conversation moving, but Hermione wasn't being very cooperative.
"Hermione," he said softly. "Are you even listening to me?"
"Yes," she returned.
"What's the matter?" he asked.
"Nothing," she said quickly, too quickly.
He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it. "You've been quiet like this for weeks now. I thought you were just trying to process what happened to you on Sirius's birthday, but that was nearly a month ago. I'm starting to think it's me."
"It's not you," she said trying to assure him. "It's me." Then she laughed. "That's a horrible line. It's not you, it's me."
Remus didn't laugh. "It's not you, it's me always means the exact opposite is true."
Hermione stopped and pulled Remus around to face her. "It doesn't this time." She sighed wanting to be able to talk to him about what she was feeling, but not knowing what to say or how to begin. She couldn't even explain it to herself. "I love you," she began.
"I love you too," he replied, but his response was guarded as if he was afraid of where she was going.
She smiled sadly and moved toward him. She put her arms around his waist and rested her forehead against his chest. With a sigh he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. "I talked to Sirius this morning," he said softly.
She tensed in his arms, but he held her firmly. "Do you want to tell me what happened last night?"
She sucked her teeth and with only a little effort, pulled away from him. "Nothing, Sirius is just such a pest sometimes."
"True," agreed Remus. "But he is your friend and he's worried about you."
Hermione put her hands on her hips. "Well you can tell him that I don't appreciate being interrupted when I work."
Remus raised an eyebrow at her. "I'd say tackling him was a bit of an overreaction, even for you."
"I barely touched him," she replied with a roll of the eyes.
"He's not the only one you've been touchy with lately," Remus continued. "You and Lily seem more like uncomfortable acquaintances than friends lately. And you can't even look at James in the eye anymore. The only person you can spare any patience for lately is Peter and he deserves it less than anyone."
"I have to, none of you have any patience for him," she snapped. But she immediately felt ashamed for her harsh tone. She wanted to deny his other charges, but she knew they were true. She wasn't sure when it had happened or why it had started, but she and Lily grew further apart each passing day. And she couldn't look at James because the mere sight of him reminded her of everything she wanted to forget.
"I'm just tired," she said lamely.
"And that's another thing," he continued. "Lily says you're up till all hours of the night, but there isn't a morning I don't have to pull you out of the library to come eat breakfast."
"It's the N.E.W.T.s," she said, offering up the most likely excuse.
"No, it's not," he returned. "There's something else. I wish you would talk to me," he said with a sigh."
Hermione paused, suddenly feeling every sleepless night and stray worry in her body. "I want to," she said. "But I'm afraid you'll think I've completely lost it."
He smiled. "I would never think that. You can tell me anything."
"Be careful what you wish for," she teased half heartedly.
"Hermione, you're stalling."
"Okay," she sighed. She took a deep breath before plunging ahead. "I saw something that night, the night at the lake," she said quietly. "And I haven't been able to stop thinking of it since."
"What do you mean you saw something?" he asked.
"Before you pulled me out of the lake..." she paused, feeling anxiety coursing through her body. "I think, that is I did, at least I think I did. Oh bother, I saw Harry and Ron. I spoke with them."
He took a step closer to her so that he could look in her eyes. He could see how upset and unsure she was. "Hermione," he began gently. "You nearly died that night. It probably wasn't anything but a hallucination or something like that."
She shook her head. "Don't you think I've told myself that every day for the last four weeks? I can't shake the feeling that there's more to it than that. I feel like there's something I have to do."
He looked away from her. "What?" she asked. Remus felt decidedly uncomfortable. "What?" she repeated.
"Don't you think, maybe, you're trying to find an excuse to keep busy? I mean, since Dumbledore stopped meeting with you. Why can't you just relax?"
"What are you talking about?" asked Hermione, trying to keep the edge off her voice. "I can relax. What are we doing right now, walking around the lake?" she challenged.
Remus couldn't stop the smile that flicked across his face. "I'm sorry. You're right. We're very relaxed right now." He squeezed her hand tightly. "Honey, I just want you to be happy."
"I can't be happy with all these unanswered questions. Can't you understand that?"
"It sounds like you've made some kind of decision about something and you just don't want to tell me."
Hermione looked into Remus' eyes and suddenly she realized that she had made a decision. She would never be able to rest until she had answers. She had always been this way and fighting her true nature was making her sick. She sighed deeply. "I need to go to the Department of Mysteries."
"The Department of Mysteries," he repeated. His memory flashed back to the night of the accident. He remembered holding her in his arms and hearing her mumble incoherently. She had said something about Ron and Harry and the Department of Mysteries. He wondered why he had blocked that bit out until just now. "What's in the Department of Mysteries?"
"Answers," she stated simply.
"What are the questions?" he asked in frustration, moving away from her.
She let him take a few steps away from him before she started to follow. "You have to understand," she began.
He turned back to her angrily. "Understand what? That you want to leave? That's it isn't it? That's why you've suddenly become so cold and distant. You want to go to the Department of Mysteries to see if they can send you home." She was surprised to see that there were tears in his eyes. "After we pulled you out of that lake the person you called out for was Harry. With you, it's always about him. You changed the future to save him. You're helping Dumbledore defeat Voldemort for him. You've said more than once that you would die for him. Well I think you love him and you've realized you can't be without him."
"This isn't about Harry," she interrupted.
"It's always about him," he shouted angrily. "I had you in my arms and I was thanking the fates that they didn't take you from me and you called out for him."
"You're being jealous for no reason. I'm not in love with Harry and I never was. I'm in love with you."
"Then why don't you want to stay here with me?" he asked weakly.
"I never said I didn't. You're the one who thinks I want to leave you. I don't."
"Then why go to the Department of Mysteries?"
She couldn't look at him. "Because I have to, I have to know what that vision meant. Harry and Ron as good as told me to go. I know it's what I'm supposed to do. I feel it."
He looked at her and she could see only pain in his eyes and then anger. He turned and quickly strode back to the castle.
"You asked," she shouted accusingly at his back. "If I can't be honest with you, then let me know. If all you want to hear out of me is how great things are and how happy I am then just say so." She wished desperately that he had turned and continued their argument, but the fight had left him and he continued moving away from her.
Hermione balled her hands into fist so tightly she could feel her nails cutting into her palms. She was so frustrated. Nothing in her life had prepared her for what it would feel like to be in love with Remus. The giddiness and anxiety that came from being close to him was always threatening to overwhelm her. She was happy just to spend a quarter of an hour talking to him, but always with the happiness came fear. She knew how dangerous their world was and it only got more dangerous by the day. She couldn't imagine losing the love of her life, because that's what he was to her, when she had just found it.
She had only ever thought herself in love once before, but the confusing feelings she had had for Ron Weasley were nothing like the overwhelming feelings she had for Remus. It was only now that she realized that Ron would have never been more to her than her best friend.
She knew she was starting to make a life for herself in this time and she knew that meant letting go of everything she had left behind. But she would never be able to let go as long as there were unanswered questions. It wasn't in her nature to leave a question unanswered. So, even if it meant hurting him, she knew she had to go. She only hoped he would forgive her when she came back.
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A/N: Wow, that last chapter broke all records for reviews. I can't imagine the response if I had actually had Sirius throw him off the balcony. This was a transitional type of chapter, but I hoped you enjoyed it. Was it a little too dramatic? I really want to know even if the answer is yes. I just hope that it's clear that the stakes are getting very high for Remus and Hermione emotionally. Well anyway, hope you all enjoyed the chapter, now sending me lots of lovely reviews so I can be inspired to write my little heart out. (I'm such a horrible beggar, aren't I?)
For the life of her, she didn't know what was wrong. All she knew was that she felt a restlessness in her spirit that wouldn't let her be. When she was able to aid Dumbledore in the war against Voldemort and his Death Eaters, she had felt driven and useful. She had slept well then. Now that Dumbledore had refused her help, she felt like she lacked purpose. She felt powerless to stop what she feared was coming.
Hermione did her best during the day to tire herself out. She spent endless hours studying in the library, she went for long walks with Remus every afternoon after class, and she even stayed up in the common room playing chess, exploding snap, or just gossiping with the rest of her friends. But as soon as her head hit her pillow, her eyes seemed to snap open.
It was in these late hours, and only then, that she dwelled on the night she had seen Harry and Ron in her vision. The longer time passed, the more sure she was that she had been with them that night. But that did little to comfort her. Harry had started to tell her of the Department of Mysteries and the room with the time turners and she knew that the answers to all her questions would be there. The problem she now faced was deciding whether she really wanted answers.
Hermione was getting very good at hiding her lack of sleep from everyone. When exhaustion and crankiness seemed just about to overtake her she would excuse herself and seek out a few minutes of solitude to get herself together. She also began using spells to cover the darkening circles under her eyes.
For the most part it worked. No one seemed to notice that Hermione was on the verge of a serious mental break down. No one, that is, except Sirius. He watched, in the weeks following her accident, as the brightness in her eyes seemed to dim. He also noticed that she rarely smiled anymore. She laughed at every joke she was told, but never smiled and the laughter never seemed to reach her eyes.
One late night when everyone had gone to bed, but Hermione and himself, he approached her. She was sitting on the floor hunched over a long roll of parchment, a quill in her right hand.
"Hermione," he began tentatively.
"What?" she asked looking up, trying desperately to keep the edge from her voice.
"Why don't you call it a night," he suggested. "You look dead tired."
"Can't," she said through a yawn. "I've got to finish this Transfiguration Essay."
"That's not due for another week," he remarked.
"I don't want to get behind," she replied testily.
He sat down carefully next to her, not saying anything, just watching. After a few minutes, Hermione threw down her quill and turned angrily to him. "What?"
He shifted uncomfortably, but matched her gaze. "Are you going to tell me what's the matter with you, or should I start to guess?"
"Sirius," she began the irritation clear in her voice. "What are you on about? I'm trying to finish this essay."
He bit back the sarcastic comment that came immediately to mind. "I'm just worried about you, ok. You're not yourself lately."
Hermione looked at him warily. "I'm fine," she said returning to her essay. Sirius reached over and plucked the quill from her hand. "Hey," she protested. "Give it back," she said grabbing for the quill.
"No," said Sirius stubbornly. "Not until you tell me what's wrong." Hermione pushed him back forcefully and pinned him to the ground. Sirius grunted with pain as her knees dug into his side. She yanked the quill from his hand and pushed herself back up.
Sirius didn't sit up, but watched her curiously as she hunched back over her parchment and resumed her scribbling. He was so flabbergasted by what she had just done. They had tussled often enough, but always in a playful and teasing manner. It wasn't like Hermione to be rough. She was always so gentle and patient with everyone. He saw nothing but hollowness in her eyes.
Sirius slowly pulled himself up, never taking his eyes from her. He settled himself back on the couch and watched her in astonishment until she gathered her things and stormed up to her room without so much as a backwards glance at him.
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Remus and Hermione were walking around the castle grounds. Remus was doing his best to keep the conversation moving, but Hermione wasn't being very cooperative.
"Hermione," he said softly. "Are you even listening to me?"
"Yes," she returned.
"What's the matter?" he asked.
"Nothing," she said quickly, too quickly.
He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it. "You've been quiet like this for weeks now. I thought you were just trying to process what happened to you on Sirius's birthday, but that was nearly a month ago. I'm starting to think it's me."
"It's not you," she said trying to assure him. "It's me." Then she laughed. "That's a horrible line. It's not you, it's me."
Remus didn't laugh. "It's not you, it's me always means the exact opposite is true."
Hermione stopped and pulled Remus around to face her. "It doesn't this time." She sighed wanting to be able to talk to him about what she was feeling, but not knowing what to say or how to begin. She couldn't even explain it to herself. "I love you," she began.
"I love you too," he replied, but his response was guarded as if he was afraid of where she was going.
She smiled sadly and moved toward him. She put her arms around his waist and rested her forehead against his chest. With a sigh he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. "I talked to Sirius this morning," he said softly.
She tensed in his arms, but he held her firmly. "Do you want to tell me what happened last night?"
She sucked her teeth and with only a little effort, pulled away from him. "Nothing, Sirius is just such a pest sometimes."
"True," agreed Remus. "But he is your friend and he's worried about you."
Hermione put her hands on her hips. "Well you can tell him that I don't appreciate being interrupted when I work."
Remus raised an eyebrow at her. "I'd say tackling him was a bit of an overreaction, even for you."
"I barely touched him," she replied with a roll of the eyes.
"He's not the only one you've been touchy with lately," Remus continued. "You and Lily seem more like uncomfortable acquaintances than friends lately. And you can't even look at James in the eye anymore. The only person you can spare any patience for lately is Peter and he deserves it less than anyone."
"I have to, none of you have any patience for him," she snapped. But she immediately felt ashamed for her harsh tone. She wanted to deny his other charges, but she knew they were true. She wasn't sure when it had happened or why it had started, but she and Lily grew further apart each passing day. And she couldn't look at James because the mere sight of him reminded her of everything she wanted to forget.
"I'm just tired," she said lamely.
"And that's another thing," he continued. "Lily says you're up till all hours of the night, but there isn't a morning I don't have to pull you out of the library to come eat breakfast."
"It's the N.E.W.T.s," she said, offering up the most likely excuse.
"No, it's not," he returned. "There's something else. I wish you would talk to me," he said with a sigh."
Hermione paused, suddenly feeling every sleepless night and stray worry in her body. "I want to," she said. "But I'm afraid you'll think I've completely lost it."
He smiled. "I would never think that. You can tell me anything."
"Be careful what you wish for," she teased half heartedly.
"Hermione, you're stalling."
"Okay," she sighed. She took a deep breath before plunging ahead. "I saw something that night, the night at the lake," she said quietly. "And I haven't been able to stop thinking of it since."
"What do you mean you saw something?" he asked.
"Before you pulled me out of the lake..." she paused, feeling anxiety coursing through her body. "I think, that is I did, at least I think I did. Oh bother, I saw Harry and Ron. I spoke with them."
He took a step closer to her so that he could look in her eyes. He could see how upset and unsure she was. "Hermione," he began gently. "You nearly died that night. It probably wasn't anything but a hallucination or something like that."
She shook her head. "Don't you think I've told myself that every day for the last four weeks? I can't shake the feeling that there's more to it than that. I feel like there's something I have to do."
He looked away from her. "What?" she asked. Remus felt decidedly uncomfortable. "What?" she repeated.
"Don't you think, maybe, you're trying to find an excuse to keep busy? I mean, since Dumbledore stopped meeting with you. Why can't you just relax?"
"What are you talking about?" asked Hermione, trying to keep the edge off her voice. "I can relax. What are we doing right now, walking around the lake?" she challenged.
Remus couldn't stop the smile that flicked across his face. "I'm sorry. You're right. We're very relaxed right now." He squeezed her hand tightly. "Honey, I just want you to be happy."
"I can't be happy with all these unanswered questions. Can't you understand that?"
"It sounds like you've made some kind of decision about something and you just don't want to tell me."
Hermione looked into Remus' eyes and suddenly she realized that she had made a decision. She would never be able to rest until she had answers. She had always been this way and fighting her true nature was making her sick. She sighed deeply. "I need to go to the Department of Mysteries."
"The Department of Mysteries," he repeated. His memory flashed back to the night of the accident. He remembered holding her in his arms and hearing her mumble incoherently. She had said something about Ron and Harry and the Department of Mysteries. He wondered why he had blocked that bit out until just now. "What's in the Department of Mysteries?"
"Answers," she stated simply.
"What are the questions?" he asked in frustration, moving away from her.
She let him take a few steps away from him before she started to follow. "You have to understand," she began.
He turned back to her angrily. "Understand what? That you want to leave? That's it isn't it? That's why you've suddenly become so cold and distant. You want to go to the Department of Mysteries to see if they can send you home." She was surprised to see that there were tears in his eyes. "After we pulled you out of that lake the person you called out for was Harry. With you, it's always about him. You changed the future to save him. You're helping Dumbledore defeat Voldemort for him. You've said more than once that you would die for him. Well I think you love him and you've realized you can't be without him."
"This isn't about Harry," she interrupted.
"It's always about him," he shouted angrily. "I had you in my arms and I was thanking the fates that they didn't take you from me and you called out for him."
"You're being jealous for no reason. I'm not in love with Harry and I never was. I'm in love with you."
"Then why don't you want to stay here with me?" he asked weakly.
"I never said I didn't. You're the one who thinks I want to leave you. I don't."
"Then why go to the Department of Mysteries?"
She couldn't look at him. "Because I have to, I have to know what that vision meant. Harry and Ron as good as told me to go. I know it's what I'm supposed to do. I feel it."
He looked at her and she could see only pain in his eyes and then anger. He turned and quickly strode back to the castle.
"You asked," she shouted accusingly at his back. "If I can't be honest with you, then let me know. If all you want to hear out of me is how great things are and how happy I am then just say so." She wished desperately that he had turned and continued their argument, but the fight had left him and he continued moving away from her.
Hermione balled her hands into fist so tightly she could feel her nails cutting into her palms. She was so frustrated. Nothing in her life had prepared her for what it would feel like to be in love with Remus. The giddiness and anxiety that came from being close to him was always threatening to overwhelm her. She was happy just to spend a quarter of an hour talking to him, but always with the happiness came fear. She knew how dangerous their world was and it only got more dangerous by the day. She couldn't imagine losing the love of her life, because that's what he was to her, when she had just found it.
She had only ever thought herself in love once before, but the confusing feelings she had had for Ron Weasley were nothing like the overwhelming feelings she had for Remus. It was only now that she realized that Ron would have never been more to her than her best friend.
She knew she was starting to make a life for herself in this time and she knew that meant letting go of everything she had left behind. But she would never be able to let go as long as there were unanswered questions. It wasn't in her nature to leave a question unanswered. So, even if it meant hurting him, she knew she had to go. She only hoped he would forgive her when she came back.
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A/N: Wow, that last chapter broke all records for reviews. I can't imagine the response if I had actually had Sirius throw him off the balcony. This was a transitional type of chapter, but I hoped you enjoyed it. Was it a little too dramatic? I really want to know even if the answer is yes. I just hope that it's clear that the stakes are getting very high for Remus and Hermione emotionally. Well anyway, hope you all enjoyed the chapter, now sending me lots of lovely reviews so I can be inspired to write my little heart out. (I'm such a horrible beggar, aren't I?)
