It was only a short matter of time before Mrs. Weasley came up to the room containing Harry, Ron, and Hermione, calling them down for supper.
"Yeah, right," Ron said to his mother, who then went back downstairs again.
Harry remembered dinners at the Headquarters of The Order of the Phoenix to be rather interesting, as it was a, usually, civil gathering of people who had interesting jobs in order to over-throw Voldemort… Or at least try. "What members of the Order are in?" Harry asked.
"Well, not much, actually," was Hermione's response.
"What are you talking about?" Ron said, bewildered. "There's Lupin… There's Lupin… And for all we know there's even a third side to… Lupin."
Harry snorted, finding this somewhat amusing, but Hermione's face was stern.
"Don't make fun of him like that, Ron. This is a really hard time for him…" She looked uncertainly towards Harry. "…And for Harry."
"Yeah, but you don't see him acting like a nutter," Ron pointed out.
Hermione sighed in exasperation. "Yes but Harry has hope to cling to. He doesn't think that Sirius is gone and he's got the Time Turner to try to bring him back again. The difference between both of them is hope."
"Yeah, back to the Time Turner. Why didn't you let me use it when I asked but now you're letting him use it, first ask?"
"You just wanted to go back in time to kick Snape from behind in Potions!" Hermione snapped. "Hardly a fit reason for manipulating time. Honestly…"
"That's not true," Ron flared up, "I also wanted to hand in my work so to avoid detention!" Obviously, to him, this was a worthy effort of going back in time and Hermione most certainly should have agreed, considering her near spotless record.
Hermione was about to retort when Harry said, rather loudly, "Why don't we go down for supper?"
Ron's growling stomach was answer enough and Harry felt slightly proud at having saved them from a third World War of Ron and Hermione.
They went downstairs, tiptoed past the veiled portrait, and they entered the kitchen, quite starving. Seeing as the only people at the table seemed to be Mrs. Weasley, Lupin, and themselves, Mrs. Weasley had made a smaller portion of tomato soup. She ladled the steaming liquid into bowls for them all before sitting down herself.
"You look as thin as a pin, Harry," she commented in a motherly way. "When you're done that, there's more in the pot."
"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said.
Other than that, conversation was limited. Everyone busied themselves with eating; Mrs. Weasley still seemed somewhat shaken by Lupin's earlier comment, and Ron and Hermione were still somewhat cool after their most recent of their frequent "small disagreements." As for Harry, he was preparing himself for his trip back in time. It wasn't a surprise that when everyone was done all that they did was quickly clean their bowls before rushing off to where they had previously been, so as to ignore awkwardness.
However, Harry split up from Ron and Hermione in the entrance hall to go upstairs to begin his trek through time. Ron and Hermione still had to sort out what was wrong with Lupin first hand, instead of just analysing the situation from afar. Besides, they had told Harry that they would deal with it.
"Only major problem now is finding Lupin." Ron snorted at his own assessment. Either the things that they were doing were becoming more stupid, or he had begun to assess situations a lot lighter. Or both.
Hermione nodded, before leading the way back towards the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley was still inside.
"What was the point in even leaving if you're coming back?" she snapped. Apparently she wasn't in the best of moods. The pair scrambled back out the door, before they could do further to anger her.
"Okay, so we'll find him some other way," Hermione said, almost huffily. If there was one thing that she liked even less than getting a question wrong on a test, it was someone hindering her in her efforts to do something. Grumbling, she led the way again. A few doors later, they came upon him.
"Er, Professor," Ron began, using Lupin's previous title in their third year, "what're you doing?" It was a perfectly reasonable question, as Lupin was muttering to himself while looking into a fire.
Hermione noticed whose portrait it was that hung above the fireplace, though how it had gotten there she had no clue, as most assuredly Sirius nor his family would have done it. "Professor," Hermione tried louder than Ron, as he had not responded to Ron.
He jerked. "Huh? What?" He looked around, seemingly confused.
Ron was about to blurt out, What the hell is wrong with you? But Hermione stopped him with a glance, somehow feeling that she had made some progress. Yeah, some progress, thought Ron. He twitched. Amazing.
"I think that I know why you're like this," Hermione stated simply, hoping that Lupin would respond somehow.
Lupin seemed to disagree because he snorted in amusement. "You are the smartest witch in your year, Hermione, but even I don't fully understand what's going on…" He seemed vague.
"Look, Lupin," Ron burst out, not using the normal title for the werewolf, "she is the smartest witch in our year and she's trying to use those smarts to help you. I don't know if you've looked in the mirror lately, or anything, but you're not exactly well." Ron took in the seemingly aged appearance of Lupin. As he had said, he looked not well at all. "And you'll cut out now, this whole stupid behaviour of yours where you're all sorry about what happened." He took a steadying breath, not exactly knowing why he had had such an outburst.
Hermione seemed more affected by his small speech than Lupin, but just for a moment. A look of dawning seemed to have come over the remaining Marauder.
Disgusted in himself, Remus clawed at his own skin, as if hoping to push off some sticky residue or an unpleasant filth. He struggled like that for a moment before he righted himself in the chair, close enough to satisfied. "You're right, Ron, you're right," he said quietly.
Ron's jaw dropped, having expected to be reprimanded or something. But, then again, Lupin had always been the understanding sort, except for when he was werewolf. But he couldn't help that, so Ron didn't hold the transformation against him.
Lupin looked scathingly around, as if it some evil spectre. "It's this house. It's grabbed a hold of me. It had such evil inhabitants and this house has bared so much grief, I suppose that somehow I took that on. Thank you for your… resurrecting speech. Sirius, James and Lily are, if anything disgusted by my display. Though I still fully intend on killing that pathetic rat, I feel more myself now. My identities have returned to the number two, thanks." At their non-plused expressions Remus added, "Remus Lupin, once Marauder, and a werewolf."
Hermione seemed quite satisfied by this revelation, so she left the room, getting one last glance of Sirius Black's portrait above the fireplace.
Sensing something amiss all of a sudden, Lupin asked, "Where's Harry?"
"Erm…" Ron looked back at the door, hoping somehow for Hermione's miraculous return to explain everything. Alas, that never happened. "He's… busy…"
Lupin raised his eyebrows.
Feeling detention coming on Ron plunged on, "He's using Hermione's Time Turner from our third year to try and get back Sirius." With that confession out, he followed, with much haste, Hermione's path of exiting. Sorry 'bout telling, mate, but I had to do it to avoid detention, Ron thought miserably. He was about to go up the stairs when he paused. What the hell? He can't give me detention! He's not even a teacher anymore and it's summer!
"Damn!" Ron said, in quite over a whisper. It was enough to send the portrait of Sirius's hideous mother off and, now knowing that he would have to deal with his own mother, Ron scrambled, full speed, up the stairs to avoid head severing.
And, sure enough:
"Ronald Weasley!" Ron, even nearly up the staircase, could hear his mother's yell. It even drowned out the portrait, and that was saying something.
"Uh oh," Ron muttered before he shielded himself behind a door, hoping that it would stand the impending blast.