A/N: A new chapter! Sorry this one took a little while to happen. I am on a roll writing so who knows, maybe there'll even be another chapter in the next couple of days! Though I am writing this as I go, I promise I have a plot fully planned out. A bit of both 1993 and 1997 in this chapter. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. All applause can be directed to J. K. Rowling. You will also see some dialogue taken word-for-word from chapter 10 of Prisoner of Azkaban in this chapter.

1997

When Hermione came to, she was laying on a hard wooden floor. She coughed at the amount of dust that floated up in a cloud when she tried to sit up. She realized that she hadn't simply appeared - instead, the apparition had been enough to knock her unconscious. She briefly wondered why - side-along apparition only had that affect if a wizard was horribly injured or exhausted. Her question was answered, however, when a sharp pain shot across her arm as she attempted to lift it to her face. With a sharp gasp she let it fall back to the floor.

"Oh, you're awake," said the pleasant voice of Remus Lupin. Hermione managed to lift her head enough to see the man standing in the dim room, silhouetted by the front window. He had his wand raised, muttering some sort of incantation, and a worried frown was on his face.

"Where's Ron?" Hermione asked.

"I sent him to fetch water," said Remus. "There's a stream nearby." Seeing the unasked question on her face, he gestured at the tiny room and explained, "I used to come here to transform. Never took much care to keep it neat, though. It's in the middle of nowhere. I figured it'd be as good a place as any to lay low for a while."

Just then the front door swung open with a menacing creak. Hermione was surprised it didn't fall off its hinges. Ron stepped in, two pails of water levitating behind him. They clattered to the floor, however, when he saw her. "Hermione, you're awake!" he shouted.

She started to sit up but once again pain shot through her arms. She looked down and saw that her arms, bare because of the tank top she was wearing, were covered in angry red lines.

Ron dropped to his knees beside her, setting a hand on her wrist, careful not to touch the wounds. "Careful there, Hermione."

"I don't understand," she said, looking between the two men. "Ron, you were hit by a spell! Why am I the one who's injured?"

"He was hit by a modified stunner," Remus explained. "Nothing worse, fortunately. I rennervated him easily. You, on the other hand," he gestured at her arms. "Got some nasty burns from that disintegrating ward."

She remembered now, the wards above Shell Cottage falling like burning embers, and grazing her arms. She noticed a pile of shredded robes on the ground in the corner - perhaps the men had been protected by their long sleeves…

"Wards aren't meant to fall, obviously, so when they get destroyed like that they can get tricky," said Remus. "What you have is like sunburn, but much worse. Plus this drains your magical core, not just your physical energy. I put some burn salve on, and you should be good as new tomorrow, but you need to rest for now."

Hermione obeyed, sinking to the floor. She noticed, however, that Remus had continued to mutter spells under his breath. This time she caught sight of a silvery streak exit his wand and shot out the window.

"You're sending patronuses," she observed. "To the others?"

"Have you heard anything back yet?" asked Ron.

Remus shook his head slowly, the look of concern on his face growing. "Nothing yet."

Ron got to his feet. "You've been trying for over an hour. Surely someone would've replied by now."

Remus shook his head, letting his wand fall dejectedly to his side. "No one in the Order has replied," he said slowly.

"What does that mean?" Ron demanded, his voice raised. "Why aren't they replying?"

The truth was hitting Hermione like a rock.

She reached out and set a reassuring hand on Ron's arm. "The Order houses were under Death Eater attack…" she said slowly.

Ron shook her arm off. "No. No. They must just not be getting your patronuses!"

"Ron," Remus said in a voice that tried to be placating. But he had his thumb and forefinger pressed against his brow, an utterly strained look jeopardizing his normally calm expression.

Hermione looked at him from her position on the floor. "Have you heard from Tonks?" she asked. But she feared she already knew the answer.

He looked up, meeting her eyes, and she had never seen so much emotion in his gaze before. "No," he replied simply. "She's just as silent as everyone else."

A feeling of dread settled over the small, dusty room.

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1993

Harry awoke late the next morning. Mid-morning sunlight streamed through the dormitory's window and flooded across his thirteen-year-old face. He took a moment to just stare at the stone ceiling above his head. It felt surreal, after months on the run hunting horcruxes, to wake up in Gryffindor Tower. He didn't know how to feel - should he enjoy it? Panic? Or simply try as hard as he possibly could to get back to 1997, back to Ron and Hermione, who were battling for their lives without him?

Did the future he came from even still exist for him to go back to?

Well, there was nothing to do but put one foot in front of the other, to take everything one step at a time. That method had kept him sane on the Horcrux hunt; instead of worrying about battling Voldemort again, he focused on one horcrux at a time, one meal at a time. One conversation with Ron and Hermione, one new location to stay. One day, one week, all that mattered in the moment. No point in worrying about what might happen in the future until it happened.

Harry took a deep breath and swung his legs off the bed.

Sitting on his bedside table was a hastily scrawled note in Ron's handwriting. Hogsmeade visit today, it said. Thought you might want to sleep in. Hope you don't mind.

Harry nodded to himself as he started to pull on a set of school robes. He didn't mind at all. It wasn't like he was allowed to go in his third year, anyway.

He froze, arm halfway through the sleeve of his robe. It was December, and Hogsmeade was happening today…

With sudden realization, Harry hurriedly finished dressing and ran out of the dormitory. Despite everything, a small smile came to his face as he remembered what this day meant for him the first time around.

In five minutes flat Harry had reached the statue of the hump-backed, one-eyed witch. He slowed his step and walked by in what he hoped was a convincing display of casualness, sticking his thumb in his pocket and absentmindedly twirling his wand.

"Psst - Harry!" came the whisper that he had been expecting.

Harry turned at once to the statue. Fred and George Weasley emerged from behind it. He almost startled at how young they looked, but he restrained himself. Remus was right - he should avoid telling too many people that he was a time traveler. Harry still didn't understand how any of this worked but it seemed like spilling secrets about the future to anyone who crossed his path was not the smartest decision to make.

"Hello," he greeted them in what he hoped was a surprised tone. "What are you two doing here?"

"We've come to give you a bit of festive cheer before we head off to Hogsmeade," said Fred with a wink.

"Blimey, Harry, we've been waiting for ages for you to show up," added George. "Come in here."

They led him into an empty classroom. Harry felt a distinct sense of deja vu, but he forced himself to act natural. He couldn't afford to screw this exchange up.

George produced a very familiar piece of parchment from inside his robes. Harry had to resist the urge to grab it from him immediately. Instead he asked, "What's that?"

"And early Christmas present for you, Harry," answered George cheerily.

"It's the secret to our success," Fred replied with equal manner of excitement.

They quickly launched into an explanation of what the Marauder's Map was. Harry already knew everything about it, of course - even more than the twins did, in fact. But he nodded along, watching attentively as they showed him the password to open it and explained about the secret passages within the school. When they left the classroom, smirking in a satisfied sort of way, Harry was gripping the Map tightly, protectively, glad to once again be in possession of one of his most prized heirlooms.

He looked down at the parchment, finding his own tiny dot. The one-eyed witch's hump was just outside, beckoning him toward Hogsmeade. But Harry didn't need to go today. Instead he checked the map briefly, looking for one dot in particular, whispered "Mischief Managed," and headed for Professor Lupin's office.

"Harry," Remus greeted when Harry knocked on the door and entered. The man looked at him warily, as if wondering if he was planning to stand by his claims from yesterday.

Harry set the Map on Remus' desk without ceremony. "I just got it from the twins."

Remus' eyes widened. He reached for the Map, looking at it with an expression akin to someone meeting a long-lost brother, and picked it up. He pulled out his wand, reverently said, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good," and watched with a smile as the ink snaked its way across the parchment.

"The Weasley twins had it in their possession, you say?" he asked without taking his eyes off the Map.

Harry nodded. He took a seat on the other side of the desk, glancing absently at the hinkypunk in a tank in the corner. "They nicked it from Filch their first year."

"I remember when James got it confiscated…" Remus said, voice lost in memory. Then he shook his head as if to clear water from his ears and looked at Harry.

"Tell me everything," he said. It wasn't a demand at all, but a simple request. His gentle kindness once again reminded Harry why he had chosen to go to Remus above any other professor.

"I already told you about how I got here," said Harry.

Remus shook his head. "Not about that," he said. His eyes held depths, and Harry for the first time realized how much the man had seen in his few decades of life. "About the war."

Harry looked back at his professor, his thoughts raging through his head. "Is it safe to tell you about the future?" he asked uncertainly.

Remus frowned. "In all honesty I have no clue. But I can see it in your eyes, Harry. You've seen things. You don't need to bear this alone."

Harry opened, then closed his mouth. He instantly tightened his grip on his wand - not because he didn't trust the man in front of him, but because it had become a coping mechanism. Wand in hand, he felt like he had some control over the problems he was facing.

"There's nothing you can help with," he said to the professor slowly. "Maybe I shouldn't change the future. What if I want to go back?"

"Dumbledore can obliviate me if it comes to it," said Remus. He looked Harry in the eye. "You said we were close in the future, correct Harry?"

Harry nodded.

Remus fought back a small smile. "Well then you know I was close with your father. And if things hadn't gone the way they did, I would've helped raise you. Please, Harry. I want to be close with you now. And if you can't or don't go back, then I need to know what you've been through."

Harry stared, lost in the thoughts swirling aggressively through his head. But as he loosened his grip on his wand and set it in his pocket, Harry nodded. And he started to tell Remus about the war.

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1997

Hermione should've been sleeping off the effects of the burning wards, but she refused. There was too much to deal with for her to sleep.

Ron was pacing the tiny shack, running his hands through his hair and muttering things under his breath. They still hadn't heard back from anyone in the Order. Hermione refused to think about what that meant. She refused to think that the Death Eaters might have succeeded. That the three of them might be the only ones left alive.

Remus was taking a quieter approach, but she could tell that he was more worried than Ron. Tonks, his wife, was pregnant with their child. As Remus gazed out the window, not saying anything, she knew that his vacant expression was hiding the fear that he had lost both his wife and child.

Hermione was tempted to slap herself out of her thoughts. She couldn't afford to worry about what they didn't know for sure.

There was no way to help any of the unaccounted for Order members right now. But maybe, just maybe, she could do something to help them find Harry.

"What are you doing?" Ron asked her, striding over to where she sat propped against a wall. Hermione had painstakingly dug a DA enchanted galleon out of her beaded bag. She had let out an involuntary whimper of pain lifting her wand to the coin. Her arms felt like they were on fire, and movement caused even worse pain. But whatever salve Remus had used was working. Hermione could already see the burns becoming less angry, the bright red turning into more of a pink. The pain hadn't subsided yet but she knew it would soon enough, and surely after she slept tonight her energy would be restored.

"I'm contacting the DA," she said through a pained grimace. "They can do research for us, in Hogwarts' library."

Ron looked at her like she had grown a second head. "What do you need research for?" he asked incredulously.

"Harry," she replied. "I think I saw the three spells that hit him. I don't have the proper books in my bag and I left a few at the campsite, but the Hogwarts library has plenty. If they can research those three spells, maybe they can figure out what happened when they hit Harry."

Ron's eyes lit up with pride, a stark contrast from looking at her like she was insane. "You're brilliant, Hermione," she said.

"Knowing how to research isn't brilliant, Ron," she said. But she knew that her cheeks had probably turned as red as the burns on her arms.

"Okay, then what spells did he get hit with?" Ron asked, sitting down eagerly beside her.

She squinted, concentrating on the memory of the attack. "One was an impedimenta, I think," she said. "And one was a nasty cutting hex."

Ron nodded eagerly. "And the third?"

The horrible scene of the bright green light played through her mind. "The Killing Curse," she said carefully.

Ron's face went pale. "You didn't tell me he was hit with a killing curse."

"You didn't ask."

"Then how do we even know he's alive?!" Ron nearly shouted. His yell was loud enough even to stir Remus from his daze by the window.

"He has to be!" Hermione replied. "They way the curses combined...and he disappeared in a bright flash...I think he's okay." She looked into Ron's eyes. "He has to be alive."

Ron stared back at her, hard, for a moment. Then he nodded, even managing to crack a smile. "At least it wouldn't be the first time he's survived a killing curse," he joked dryly.

Hermione allowed herself the smallest of smiles. She tapped the galleon, whispering the words she wanted it to say. Help. Need research. What happens when Impedimenta, Sectumsempra, and Killing Curse combine?

She only hoped the members of the DA still had their coins on them. And that they took her request seriously.

Her magic felt even more drained, but before she could mention it something broke them all out of their thoughts, distracted them immediately from their pain.

A patronus. Silver and beautiful, a wolf darted into the room.

Remus, it said in Tonks's voice. We're alive.

The patronus evaporated into smoke. They all stared at the spot where it had been, barely believing their eyes. Remus looked suddenly years younger. Hermione thought she even caught a few tears dripping down his cheeks.

Maybe all hope wasn't lost, after all.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Please review, so I can know what you thought about it! Next chapter will include some revelations, more planning, and maybe an introduction to everyone's favorite animagus...

Until then!