AN: Technically, this was supposed to be part of Ch. 20, but I got impatient. So I give you Banefully Awry: Part II!
Reviews: Due to new policy, I will no longer thank reviewers in my story. (I fear being reported and my stories going bye-bye! It nearly happened before on another site!) Signed reviewers will get a reply sent via the new service so if you do not sign in or do not have an account…well…try and sign in or sign up! I'll only be able to just thank people in general on here now. Sorry!
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Last Chapter: Creepily familiar gray eyes observed her, but the empty, hungry expression behind them was foreign to her. "Remus?" she whispered, hesitantly. Her still body had began to shake as the wolf in front of her bared its teeth and the hair on its back stood up. "Oh my…" she choked out. Hermione knew then that Remus was gone and what in front of her was all that was left.
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Little by little, the world began coming back. Mostly, in pieces. The sound of a bird, the smell of the ground, and then suddenly as if flipped on by a switch, the feeling of pain, mind-blowing pain. He wished himself back to oblivion, but it did not work. Stiffly, he laid there, his now open eyes staring at the trunk of a tree. Remus could hear his own jagged breathing, loud and heavy laden in his ears. Carefully, he tried to push himself up, but he collapsed back onto the grass. His right arm was useless. Remus' cry of pain caused the birds to squawk in alarm and fly away.
Something was stuck in his right shoulder. Groping haphazardly, he felt the serrated edge of something protruding from below the shoulder blade. His hand came back slick with red. That's when he realized everything around him seemed to be covered in it. Blood. His blood. It felt as if every inch of him had been stabbed. Deliriously, he tried again to get off the ground, feeling all his strength going into that with none left to scream. This time he swayed standing up, nearly falling over, yet a well-placed tree was there for him to grab. The sight of darkened blood was sickening to him and he knew why his vision kept flashing dark at the edges.
What happened?
Still grasping the tree, he turned his head around the area before he caught sight of a dead deer poking out from behind a bush.
My God… What have I done? What have…?
A hand to his head, his mind flashed back to the house, back to Hermione. He continued staring at the deer. Everything was a blank. Shakily, he let go of the tree and started laboriously forward as fast as he could go. Fear began replacing the intense pain.
When I get back, don't be dead.
Don't be dead because of me.
Don't…
Don't let me have killed you.
His right arm was a weight. With each step, the object in his back shifted as if going farther inward. Remus did not care. He could die and it would not matter as long as he knew, as long as he found out she was still alive. Finally after what seemed like hours in the forest, he emerged. Hobbling as he had the entire trip, he managed the steps and found a pile of broken glass shards all over the porch. They were tipped in blood. His hand traveled over his face where the points had penetrated. He shook as he opened the door, fearing what was on the other side.
The initial scene was one of chaos. Wood was splintered in the middle of the room that had once been the coffee table. A shredded chair stood farther near the corner. That was not what his eye locked on, no; it was the foot sticking out from under it that did. Limping toward it, Remus nearly tripped over himself trying to get there.
With his good left hand, he pushed the chair back away from the corner. There sprawled behind it laid Hermione, her upper body leaning against the wall while her legs extended out in front of her. Her head was turned inward toward the corner. She did not move. Tears stung in his eyes, not just from the pain of getting down on his knees, as Remus touched the gaping rip at the bottom of her gown. He could see no bite marks as he looked over her arms and legs. Not taking a breath, he placed his fingers to the side of her neck. He waited. Then faintly, he felt it. A thump. After that another.
Thank you.
The tension in his body left and he felt the strength that had been driving him toward her give away. She was alive. He had not killed her. His pain came back full force, rushing back in. As the world began to dim, his brain stupidly realized his utter lack of clothing. She had already seen him at his worst; she did not need to seem any lower than that. Hazily, he reached over onto the couch where a pile of something sat. He picked it up. A bed sheet. Wincing, he wrapped it around his waist the best he could, the bit of what he knew now as glass biting. Shock was overcoming that now.
Sharply, the world darkened again. He slipped forward; he could not afford fall on his back. Remus eased himself down into the small wedge of space between the corner and the couch. His head rested on something soft and warm. The basically dead right arm was propped up. He could not think on what. Everything was gone from his head, save one thought.
She's alive.
With that bit of comfort, his aching mind slipped away, dragging him with it. Then he blissfully fell away into the darkness.
Her head throbbed tremendously, an unfortunate after effect of heavy wandless magic. She pressed her left hand shakily to her forehead as if to ease the pain. Letting it fall back, her hand then held another. Hermione's eyes fluttered open as she realized something was next to her and even slightly on her.
The hand turned out to be attached to an equally, incredibly bruised and bloodied body. She quickly grasped it with her own as she used the other to smooth back Remus' hair. His head lay across her chest.
"Remus," she said urgently down at his unmoving body. No answer came. Then the horrid sight of the piece of glass came into view. His body seemed to have been attacked with its sharp points all over. Remus' exposed back was like a lattice of varying red gashes. The sight caused tears to form in her eyes, but she blinked them back. This was not the time to lose it.
"Dear lord…Remus. Oh my…," she continued. His pale face looked strangely peaceful and she anxiously wondered how much blood he had lost. He needed medical attention; his face was like a sheet.
"Remus, I'm-I'm going to have to take out the glass before I can move you or else it might kill you. Can you hear me? I don't know how you got here with it in. Remus?"
For a moment, his eyes fluttered rapidly before stilling again. Hermione whispered a soft, "I'm sorry," before grabbing the glass safely with a ripped bit of her gown and giving it a swift tug. It tore free and Remus kept his silence no more. He let out a hissing moan of pain. Swiftly, Hermione applied pressure to the newly opened wound as it bubbled up blood.
"Okay…okay…it's going to be alright," Hermione muttered, mostly to herself as she frantically watched the cloth turn red. "Now, Remus, I'm going to get you off me and onto the couch. You need bandaging; you've lost a lot of blood. Just try and uh…lean on me a bit…"
Still in her sitting position, Hermione took a hold of Remus' uninjured arm and carefully got a grip around his waist. Slowly, she used her legs push her up and slide herself along the wall, nearly falling in the process under the strain. Remus at one point slipped from her grip, causing them both to become entangled in the sheet. Luckily though, Remus had enough consciousness to keep them from coming down in a heap and to stay standing.
With trepidation, Hermione maneuvered his sagging figure over to the couch and tried to gently place him on it, back facing up. As he creaked slowly down, his pain was clear in the grimaces of his face and the gasps of pained breath that escaped. She brushed back the hair that fell into his face and pulled a nearby throw over half of his strangely cool body. Taking out her wand, she quickly summoned some potions from upstairs that zoomed readily into her hand. Strategically, she began applying them before saying a long string of incantations she had learned during a brief stint with Pomfrey in Magical Healing class.
She watched as the smaller cuts started to close, but it did not extend to the larger ones completely. He seemed to be turning paler by the minute. Not only did he need all of these closed, he also needed blood to replace what had been lost. Idiotically, she thought of a blood transfusion with needles and IVs. Biting back tears of frustration, she suddenly remembered a book Dumbledore had sent along, something about Advanced Healing. It was in Remus' room, but what was it called? She glanced once more at his still form before tearing up the stairs.
Hurriedly, she tore open the drawers in Remus' desk where she saw him put the books. The only things in the first row were three empty potion vials stuffed into the very bottom. Briefly, she puzzled over them. The labels…she knew them… Then shook it off. Questions could wait. In the second to last drawer, she found Intricate and Complex Healing Methods. With it in tow, she flew down the stairs once more.
Hermione flipped through the pages rapidly until she found 'blood replenishing.' Breathlessly, she read through the instructions, faltered a bit, and then determinedly took up her wand. Putting the book on the floor, she knelt next to Remus. Uttering a phrase at her wand, she enclosed her hand around it. She bit her lip hard in preparation. Quickly, she pulled her wand out from her fist. The knife-spell had done its work. Her palm glistened crimson.
Not wasting time, she placed her bleeding hand onto one of the larger cuts on his back. She started reading from the page. The incantation began to blur as Hermione felt herself being depleted of blood as it went into Remus. Swaying in place, she finished the last word. The edges of the world were fading for her. Through bad vision, she could tell that his back was no longer a red network of gashes, but were instead vibrant pink lines. Even his face seemed to have lost some of its chalk coloring. Her palm on the other hand was a different story.
Blearily, she dabbed potion onto it and wrapped it up. She was too drained from the previous spell to even try to repair her palm. Hermione took up some of the remaining cloth to bandage over Remus' back incase the magic holding accidentally split and it began to bleed anew. She pulled the covers up around his shoulders, being careful to place Remus' hurt arm. A quick setting charm put it back into proper position, but that was as far as her skills went. Another Accio and quill, parchment, and the inconspicuous folder landed on the floor. Shakily she wrote out, "Send Madame Pomfrey. ASAP. An accident. I've tried my best. Remus in bad shape." Then promptly placed it in the folder and heard the pop as it was sent.
She tenderly placed a kiss on his cheek before pulling over the unscathed wingback chair and putting it next to him. Her energy was waning once again. Wearily, Hermione sank down into the cushions then sat waiting for a reply and thankfully watching as Remus' steadily breathed in and out. What in Merlin's name had happened?
"I'll tell you what happened," said Mr. Granger in a roar, waving his hands about. "We let her go off to that blasted school. And now this!"
"Marcus," implored his wife, "do sit down; the mailman is watching you."
The tall, hefty man looked over his shoulder to see that indeed the carrier was interestedly looking into the bay windows. Mr. Granger quickly pulled the curtains shut and turned back to readdress his wife.
"Helen, you can't tell me that you have no regrets about what we did. A strange place we didn't know, where they taught her magic…and not to mention she got caught up this Potter fellow who seems to attract the worst attention! Now see what has happened. That bad luck has rubbed off on her and our little girl…"
Marcus Granger had to break off in mid-sentence as he was overcome with emotions. He held up a picture. A scratchy moving picture of a humanoid figure kicking. "Our little girl is expecting and we've got no clue as to much else," he said after regaining composure.
Taking his hand, Helen Granger tried to console him. "I don't know much about the Wizarding world, nor do I really care to. The place seems too scary for my taste, but our Hermione, she's a brave girl. Got some buck in her. I worry all the time though. I think about her all the time. I believe her assurances that she is well placed from harm, just as we are. She'll let us know anything as soon as she does. We've got to trust her like we always have."
Slowly, he nodded in agreement. "But you never…" he persisted.
"Not a day in my life did I regret sending her. Never," she added with emphasized certainty.
"Good. As long as one of us still believes that then maybe we've got some hope." He got up to put away his teacup in the kitchen when he added, "Next she'll be telling us about how she's holed up with some vampire or werewolf and then tell us not to worry! Probably with the vicious creature right now; they seem to run around readily enough in their world." He waved his hand vaguely at the door.
"Marcus," muttered Helen, rolling her eyes slightly. "Don't be so dramatic. She told us about one of her professors that was…" she searched for a euphemism, "afflicted," was what she settled on. "Hermione spoke well about him."
"Yes, yes. What's-his-face was nice, caring, and what-not until he's raving around trying to bite your blooming leg off. I say no thank you to that sort of company."
"I do believe his name was Professor Remus Lupin," she said, interrupting.
He looked incredulously at her. "What sort of nutter names their son that? Trying to curse him?"
"I wouldn't know. You were the one who came up with Hermione, remember?" She raised her eyebrows at him.
"Never mind…" he grumbled. "I don't care what his name is; I don't ever want to meet somebody who'd consider me for supper. He was smart for resigning when he did. Might have kept Hermione at home if he hadn't."
Helen had her hands at her hips, just staring at him. "You are a doddering old fool after all. There are these potions, Marcus, for people like him. Didn't you listen to Hermione when went over this the last time? Not to mention you are being completely prejudice…" she trailed off as he started to leave the room. "You come back here! Did I say I was finished?"
"No," hollered back Mr. Granger from down the hall, "But I did."
"Mr. Shacklebolt!" yelled Helen, as she went to opposite direction looking for the Auror placed there for protection. "Would you kindly explain to Marcus about full moons once more? He's being…"
She looked around the corner into the back den and caught sight of his robe whipping around a door. "…stubborn again," she finished. "Fine," she breathed out. "Next time he wants me to take up his side in those stupid football arguments, forget it."
Her eyes fell on another ultrasound-like picture and under it in Hermione's neat handwriting it read, "Jonathon Marcus." Gently, she picked it up and traced a finger over the image. She didn't understand. She didn't understand anything at all. Why her? Why Hermione? A sob threatened to escape, but she held it back. She had to be the strong one to keep this fragile house of cards from falling in. It was all unfair. Helen couldn't be there when she got her checkups, thought of names, or even feel him move. Wiping her eyes hastily, she put the photo back and left the room, regaining her cheery composure.
Unfortunately, Kingsley Shacklebolt was in the kitchen when Mrs. Granger returned and immediately wished himself elsewhere as he saw her coming toward him with a grin on her face.
"Now, back to werewolves. You wouldn't mind giving that lecture again to Marcus would you."
He smiled slightly and longed to trade guarding duty with Remus at the moment. Not only to get out of the headache arguments, but wouldn't Mr. Lupin be surprised when he found out the person that could be guarding him would like to tear his blooming arm off, as he would put it. Or rather his daughter's arm at the moment. Lupin. Lucky devil.
Remus began to cough and he felt the innate need to cover his mouth, only to find his arm was not complaisant. It did not move at all and if he tried, an intense burning sensation emanated from his right shoulder outward. He now unfocusedly stared forward. To his surprise, he found himself surveying the living room from an elevated point and the fact that he was no longer on the wood floor. His eyes darted around as he continued to cough, looking around for Hermione. It was not long before she crossed his line of vision.
Instantly, he tried to get up, but soon a hand was softly applying pressure to his back and her voice above him entreated him not to move. "Don't. Don't," she said in a soft, hurried whisper as she knelt beside him. He saw her wince as she put her left hand down to steady her descent.
He felt his eyes flick over her, unable to believe it. Of course, he had made sure she was live, but seeing her up, moving, and in spite of everything, caring was beyond anything he had ever thought. She produced a glass and vigilantly watched as he swallowed some water down. The dry from his mouth gone, he tried to speak but she shook her head before bringing a vial to his mouth.
"It's for the pain," she said. Soon after, Remus indeed did feel a floating sensation travel down his body as the pain seemed to numb away. "That's better," Hermione smiled slightly in relief as she saw it take effect. Her hand was warm against his face as she caressed his cheek. He couldn't figure out how anyone could be so…
Suddenly though, a hand was helping her up and she escaped his vision. Soon, Madam Pomfrey's stern face appeared, but he noticed it soften as she drew closer and brought out her wand. "Let me set your arm, dear. Miss Granger informed me about the pain potion. You shouldn't feel a thing." With that he heard a sickening popping noise and braced himself for whatever else she decided to 'set.'
Dumbledore led Hermione over to then entrance of the kitchen and conjured up a squishy armchair for her before bidding her to sit. He noticed her cradling her left hand and asked, "What exactly happened, Miss Granger?"
"I-I," she faltered, "I'm not sure. It was like the Wolfsbane didn't work. There was a shield…and…and…then he just flew out the window…" She looked helplessly at him as if lost for words.
"Your hand. Let me look at it." She complied by holding it out.
Dumbledore undid the bandage. "It looks deep. He didn't give this to you, did he?" he asked softly.
"No," she answered quickly. "He had lost a lot of blood. I was worried that he wouldn't make it," she began to feel her outer walls crumble. "I did a blood replenishing charm and I needed another source. He pulled through." Hermione wiped at a stray tear. She watched Pomfrey sealing up Remus' back up more. "I didn't think he would."
After a quick prod from the wand, Dumbledore zipped back together Hermione's hand in time before she wrapped up in the chair and started letting the flood gates go. He wrapped an arm around her to comfort her and heard in between the silent hiccups, "I'm sorry, but I'm not strong at all. People always say that I am. But I'm not. I'm not."
A few hours later, Dumbledore sat next to a now sitting Remus. Hermione had been forced into bed by Madam Pomfrey after having one look at her and declaring her unfit to even be standing.
"Albus," started Remus in a hoarse voice, "you know what I'm about to say, but please, just listen. I'm a danger to myself, the mission, and her." He shifted his mended arm. "I want to be removed as acting Phoenix member in this operation and I believe someone more capable than me should step in to replace me. Before something much worse happens."
The older wizard regarded him for a moment then whispered, "She's listening at the top of the stairs." He continued in a normal voice, "You will remain at your post until done. A new uncontaminated supply of Wolfsbane will be sent shortly." Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "Much worse could happen. If guards were to be changed, Voldemort would note your sudden reappearance and you'd be taken within the hour for torture beyond even this until you revealed everything you knew."
His voice dropped low. "She'd never recover if you left, Remus. Neither of you would. You'd be fraught over the other's safety all the time. Nothing would be accomplished then. You will stay in position and report as usual. Understood? I can't bear another…"
In his mind, Remus finished it. He couldn't bear another repeat of Lily and James, but still neither of them was…
"Sir, I respect what you are saying, but you must realize that I'm still more of a threat by being around; no matter what good effects it has on her, on me."
Dumbledore simply stared at him. "Do not abandon your post. There are still parts yet to be played out in this." With that he blinked out, leaving two people with furrowed brows.
In his darkened cell, he sat straight against the cold wall. He hadn't seen the room around him in days since they stopped opening the slot or even taking him out for another round of torture.
He had his eyes closed, muttering to himself
"The lock and the key. The lock and the key. They must find each other. The lock and key. The lock and the key. The message is-"
He stopped short as the door banged open. "I'll show you a bloody lock an' key, you nutter. Crucio!"
Between shrieks, the entire dungeon was filled with "the lock and the key…the lock and the key…"
