Important author's note: Okay, Hermione 24 years old. All the years and such that I use as reference follow the correct time line of events, so it's 6 years after they would have graduated Hogwarts. Yes it's right.
AND
The whole story is in Hermione's POV just fyi.
Disclaimer: I am in now way assosiated with J.K. Rowling, Scholastic, or Warner Bro. I'm simply mucking around for my enjoyment. I also do not own the last line. It only made me cry. :) Also, I've just noticed that this story bares a slight resembalance to 'Comfort' by Andrian1. (At least the first chapter or so. This was totally unintentional and just a fluke thing because it's been like a year and a half since I've read her story. But I definatly recommend giving her's a read. (So don't flame me and tell me to come up with my own story ideas okay? Fanfiction has become a small word. You're lucky if you're idea hasn't already been used twice over.)
Dedication: R.I.P Brittany Morgan Neville (3/11/1989 - 4/27/2006) I will remember to never forget you. Ever. I miss you too much for words.
I was alone in that room in the Department of Mysteries. The dais was there and I was standing on top of it, staring at the veil. Fluttering ever so gently in that damned nonexistent wind. I heard voices from behind me. No I was alone. The voices were coming from the veil itself.
'Help me.' The voices turned to a more familiar one.
I stepped off the dais and took a step closer to the fluttering cloth.
'Help me.' I heard it louder this time and the voice was still so familiar yet I still couldn't place it with anyone I knew.
Another step closer and I heard, 'Help me.'
The name was on the tip of my tongue but my brain was functioning properly down here. Was there something in the air?
It was someone I knew, rather they were probably close with Harry and that's how I knew them. Wait, where was Harry? My attention was momentarily adverted from the veil as I looked around the empty room wildly.
'Help me Hermione.' This time I distinctly heard my name and I felt as though some force was pulling me toward the veil in front on me. Someone wanted me there.
One more step forward and I was nearly face to—well—veil with the fomented cloth. Now I could see shadows and shapes moving. They were so close I could reach out and touch it. My fingers stretched out in front of me like a magnet was pulling them. I reached for the part in the veil. In fact, I could almost see someone standing there right in front of me! I knew him, he was so familiar. Good gods, it was—
- - - - - - - -
"Sirius!" I gasped out as I awoke in a cold sweat. "Not again." I mumbled to myself. This was the third night I had awoken from said dream in this state. I began to mull things over in my head as I tended to do.
Let's go over a checklist shall we? Location: Number twelve Grimmauld Place. Reason: The order meeting were becoming to frequent so I asked Harry if I could just stay a while. Day—
I looked over and groaned; three a.m. Again.
What a lovely way to start off a Monday.
I sat up in bed and wearily rubbed my eyes. There was no sense in going back to sleep now. I knew it would never come.
A muffled sound from the kitchen broke me from my stupor. I brushed it off as one of my order members coming in late from guard duty or perhaps Harry or Ron just needed a glass of water.
They had the right idea.
I weighed the pros and cons of getting up and going all the way down to the kitchen to get a drink or just turn on the gas lamp and read a book, but when the muffled sounds continued, curiosity got the best of me.
I grabbed my dressing robe and tucked my wand in the right hand pocket and quietly opened the door and peeked out in the hallway.
The darkness surrounded me completely but I knew the hallways from ten years of walking them. Twelve steps to the loo, twenty eight to the stairs. There were nineteen steps down to the bottom landing then forty three down the hall and into the kitchen.
Now that I was just outside the kitchen door the muffled sounds from upstairs sounded more like sniffling, sobbing actually. I wondered if Percy had sent something of Mrs. Weasley's back again. Slowly I opened the door praying that it wouldn't squeak like it always did.
Damn. At least it was consistent.
Opening the door the rest of the way, I stepped into the dimly lit room.
At first glance it looked as thought no one was in the room. I shook my head and told myself that I must be going barmy in this house.
A loud sniffle however caused me to jump and knock into a chair that had been forgotten to be pushed under the table. That's when I was introduced to the slumped figure of my favourite professor.
Remus hasn't been your professor for years Hermione really. Now he's—
A what?
Well a friend I suppose. Acquaintance seems too impersonal. So friend it is then. Ermh, friends comfort friends, right?
Remus Lupin seemed to have not noticed that he wasn't alone and brooding anymore. He gave another shuddering sigh as I moved closer to where he was seated. I put a shaky hand on his slumped shoulder.
"Pro-Remus?" My voice barely came out as a whisper but with it being a week until the full moon I figured he could hear me quite well.
If the werewolf could hear me he made no notice of it. He continued to sit there, arms covering his face, drink in his left hand.
I carefully pried the glass from his vice-like grip and gingerly sniffed it.
Firewhiskey.
Poor Professor Lupin must have drunk himself into a stupor. From what I'd heard from the other order members this wasn't a rare occurrence.
I took the half full cup to the dingy white sink and poured the contents out and got him a new glass, this time; water.
"I was drinking that you know." A slow rumbling voice came from behind me.
His voice startled me but I turned around none the less and placed the water glass in his out-stretched hand.
"Well try this."
Remus weakly lifted his head and I had to stop myself from shaking mine. This was not the Remus Lupin I remembered. Scruffy face, blood shot eyes, mussed and tangled hair. No, no, no, this was not right at all.
The bum that was Remus lifted the glass to his dry lips and took a sip.
"Gah," he said as he spewed the water over the table. "What is this foul concoction?"
"Oh, just something I like to call water." I replied stiffly. "You need to rehydrate. I'm not sure how much you had from this bottle—" I picked it up off the table and turned it over, watching the last drip fall to the dirty floor. "—but it can't good."
He mumbled some curse words and let his head thunk back down onto the table.
"I don't care where you put you left foot just drink the water and I'll leave you be." I told him, my bossy side getting the better of me.
Remus sat up quickly, which I was surprised he could still do and no fall out of his chair, and grabbed my wrist tightly.
"Please don't leave me." He begged me. "Don't leave me like everyone else has."
"Remus, you're drunk. You should get some sleep." I truly had no idea what he was talking about and dubbed him a babbling idiot.
"I'm certainly not that drunk." He told me, too eloquently to be the man I just saw sleeping at the breakfast table.
I raised an eyebrow at him.
"Ask me any question, tell me to walk a straight line, anything but pat my head and rub my stomach, I could never to that even when I was sober, and I'll prove to you that I'm not drunk.
It's too early for this.
I sighed. "Still, it's three in the morning, what aren't you at least drunk in a bed?"
He gave the glass of water a dirty look but drank from it none the less. "I'm sure for the exact same reason you aren't." He turned his attention back to me, "Any reoccurring dreams lately?"
I could only stare at him dumbly.
How did he know?
"Well you're not the only one love." He said patting my hand. "Have you seen the circles under Harry's eyes? It's this house." He paused and took another drink. "It's his house, his memory. Am I right?"
I nodded my head and cleared my throat. "O-of course I noticed Harry." I had to clear my throat again. "I'm not his best friend for nothing you know. But I-I mean I couldn't—well I guess I didn't want to say anything and-and be the first one to bring it up." My gaze lowered to the table. I felt like a child that got caught with their hand in the cookie jar.
"You don't need to be ashamed Hermione we're all as guilty as the next person. We all haven't said much on it and it's been almost eight years. We're all guilty." He told me consolingly, his amber eyes looking unblinkingly at mine.
I sighed again. "I'm sorry Remus." I felt horrible. "I mean we barely knew him and you—"
"It doesn't matter for how long you knew someone but for the imprint they left with you."
"You're a very eloquent drunk I'll give you that." I told him with a small smile.
Now it was his turn to sigh. "I really am not drunk Hermione. You want the truth? I haven't slept since the first night I stayed her. I-I can't sleep here. Not anymore." His strong professor façade was crumbling and the small scared child was coming out.
I took the hand that had been patting mine and took it lightly in both of mine.
"Hermione I—" He started.
"Have you been dreaming about the veil too Pro-Remus?" I stared at him through large, round eyes.
He snapped his mouth shut, which had previously still been open from when I cut him off, and audibly gulped.
"I—you too?" he asked dumbly.
"Yeah." His amber eyes seemed to grow at my confirmation. My gaze dropped down to our intertwined hands. "Do you-do you actually see him or do you just hear him?"
Remus hesitated for a moment. "Well I-I haven't really um, slept properly since that first dream and um," he began to pull his hand away from mine but I held tight.
For some reason I needed to know.
"I hear him too." I told him quietly. I began to rub the top of his hand subconsciously probably trying to comfort myself more than him as I talked. "He-he asks me t-to help him. Every time," Now I was close to tears.
Don't cry, don't cry. He needs you more than this right now.
Without Remus knowing what he was doing his other hand was at my face wiping a stray tear from my cheek. "Then you've seen him too?" It was more of a question than a statement, again I saw that scared child.
"Well," I started, noticing his hand hadn't left my face, "It was more of his shadow really, but I just-I just knew it was him."
He sighed and closed his eyes then let out a bitter chuckle. "You'd think—after eight years we'd be over it. But then again, you never really get over something like that—do you?" At the last two words he opened his eyes to look at me.
"Never," I agreed. "And I also agree with you that being back in this house does amplify the feeling." By now Remus had both his hands covering his face. I couldn't hear anything but I did see his shoulders begin to shake.
"Oh—Remus," I didn't even think of what I was doing, I just did what felt instinctive. I reached over and wrapped my arms around his scruffy neck. His hands dropped as they encircled my waist. At the same time he buried his face into my shoulder and began to cry.
I bet he never had proper time to grieve. He must have just bottled it up and this is the repercussion of it all.
I moved my hand and began stroking his light brown hair in a soothing manner, not even noticing the gray that peppered it.
"But honestly I don't think we're meant to just 'get over' something like this. I think we should remember them, keep their memory alive, you know. And really now, who could ever forget the famous Sirius Black?" I cracked a small smile when I heard a watery chuckle come from my shoulder.
"Maybe we should talk about him now that we're all here. And by 'we' I mean Harry and you. You both can't be the stronger person, which is exactly what you two are doing. Right now that's my job to be that person fro you." I heard him suck in a breath to say something but I quickly cut him off. "No Remus, I want to be that person."
I do? Of course I do.
Then I decided that my heart was doing a better job of talking so I just shut my brain off and told it to take a holiday.
I felt him shift in my arms and lift his head from my shoulders, but I didn't feel his arms leave my waist so I kept mine around his neck.
"Hermione why—" He started.
"Because I want too, and it's your turn Remus. You deserve this."
I must have left him speechless because he just looked at me strangely, like he had never deserved anything less in his life.
I moved my arms and I swore I saw him almost frown but I only moved my thumbs to wipe away the tear streaks left on his face.
"Remus, you deserve this just as much or probably more than any other person I know. And you've always help up a strong front, put up your walls and your guard. I'm just happy you let them down around me." My cinnamon eyes locked with his amber ones, waiting for the classic Remus trait: to push me away, hand me some chocolate, and tell me everything would be fine.
It never came.
"I-I do need you Hermione." He told me at last.
I smiled and sighed, "And I you Remus, and I you." With that I pulled him closer and our lips crashed together. We fit together like two puzzle pieces finding their match. It was perfect. It was bliss. It was what we both needed. We pulled away and I wrapped him into another hug with every intention of never letting go.
That's how Harry, Ron, Ginny, Mrs. Weasley, and a few other order members found us in the morning, asleep in each other arms, finally understanding what our haunting dreams had been trying to tell us.
- - - - - - - -
Mr. Prongs would like to welcome Mr. Padfoot home.
Finite