Retribution

ret· ri· bu· tion | \ ˌre-trə-ˈbyü-shən

: punishment inflicted on someone

as vengeance for a wrong or criminal act.

The damp, stone floor of the Ministry holding cell was cool against Hermione's face. Her eyes darted back to the watch on her wrist as it marked the seconds in incessant, metronomic beats. It continued to tick away precious time, the shadows of guards passing by in systematic rounds, over the last two days. Their hundreds of steps disturbed the sliver of yellow light that filtered through the gap beneath the door, and Hermione's head was pounding with exhaustion. Her eyes burned with dried tears and sleep deprivation.

She was dangerously close to smashing the timepiece to the ground in frustration. It felt like it was mocking her. The harsh tick, tick, tick, a constant reminder that she had been horribly unprepared. More than that—she had been stupid. She'd allowed her emotions to get in the way, and grossly underestimated Harry.

Her eyes landed on the face of the watch again, reading the time in the faint light.

It was well after three in the morning.

She counted the seconds until the night guard's footsteps would pass again, trying to come up with some semblance of a plan. She sat up and pressed her ear to the door. Silencing charms were effective for a short period but, after an extended amount of time without being refreshed, they began to wither. She could make out muffled voices throughout the day and shouts from drunk wizards that had been picked up in Diagon Alley at night.

Hermione could hear the deafening screech of ill-oiled metal as the guard opened the window on the door next to hers. She checked her watch—twelve after three in the morning. She had to act now.

Quickly, she shoved herself up off the ground, scuttling to perch on the edge of the camp bed. She ran a hand down her legs, trying to still her bouncing knees as she stared intently at the gap in the bottom of the door, awaiting the shadow of heavy boots. It felt like an eternity before the small window in her door let out an angry squeal as the man slid it open.

His eyes appeared, bright blue and heavy lidded, surrounded by wrinkles from decades of stressful work and lack of sleep. Hermione leapt from the bed, putting her slapdash plan into action, and waved her arms wildly in the air to get his attention. She felt utterly ridiculous, but had run out of time to come up with anything more effective.

"Excuse me?" Hermione shouted, "Excuse me, sir?"

"What?" The man snapped, eyes narrowing.

Hermione let out a sigh of relief and moved closer to the door, saying the first thing she could think to say, "I'd like to use the loo, please."

"Ministry rules regulate holdee's facility time with—"

"Yes," Hermione interrupted hastily, then swallowed, "Yes, I understand the rules. I realize there are allotted breaks for lavatory use, however," she lowered her voice, making a bit of a show of moving closer to the little window to whisper. "I do believe my monthly visitor arrived, and I would like to be able to clean myself up a bit."

The man stepped away from the door, his eyes narrowing in confusion. "You're being held for your own protection, Miss Granger. Auror Potter's orders."

"I understand," Hermione insisted, her desperate voice cracking, "I really do, and I wouldn't bother you if it weren't absolutely necessary. And, I don't think my good friend, Harry Potter, would appreciate that I'm being restricted access to feminine products when needed."

Through the small hole, Hermione could see the man's face pull in disgust. She breathed out through her nose, trying to contain her thumping heart within the confines of her chest. This had to work. And, while she wasn't thrilled with exploiting sexism for personal gain, she couldn't think of anything better to get her out of this cell.

"Right," he said, his voice gruff and tired. "Of course, Miss Granger. Stand back, if you please."

Hermione offered a shaky smile, letting out a breath of relief. "Thank you, sir," she rambled, "I'll be sure to let Harry know how thorough and dedicated you are to your position here."

The guard grumbled in some sort of acceptance and waited for Hermione to move away from the door. She inched back, attempting to appear less manic than she felt, as the man fumbled with the lock. Part of her mind was blank with panic, unsure of what would happen from here.

Because, no matter what, she was about to break out of a Ministry holding cell. She swallowed, trying to remind herself that she would probably get off with a light sentence, maybe some community service or something equally inconveniencing. Either way, Harry wouldn't let her be thrown in Azkaban. She was, after all, being held for her own protection. So, if she chose to forfeit her own safety, well, that was her decision, wasn't it?

Hermione buzzed as a rush of sound swallowed the cell and the grinding lock gave way with a click. She'd have to disarm the guard and get her wand back. That was the only way Hermione would get out of here. She prayed that his reflexes were as slow as his steps.

The door creaked open, and a wrinkled hand came into view, wrapping around the metal frame. Her breath came in sharp and fast as adrenaline surged, and she could barely hear over her pulse thundering in her ears. Lying in wait had never been a strong suit of Hermione's, but the maddening amount of patience she had learned in her time spent with Remus had at least done some good.

The guard stood in the doorway, hunched and tired, as his wand dangled uselessly at his side. Sparse white hair covered his sweaty head, and he breathed heavily as he spoke.

"I'll take you to the facilities."

"Thank you," Hermione sang, forcing a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

When she didn't move, he stepped further into the room and Hermione struck—leaping forward to shove the door shut. Both now locked in the cell, the man's eyes went wide and he raised his wand. Hermione charged the man, wincing as a stinging hex caught her elbow. She bowled him over, tackling him down around the waist to shove him hard onto the ground. His wand flew from his hand, bouncing across the uneven floor to roll to a stop beneath the bed.

"I'm sorry," she cried, scrambling for purchase on the flagstone, as she fought to get to the wand first, "I don't want to hurt you."

He shouted, wrapping a stubby, liver-spotted hand around her ankle. She kicked, grimacing as the heel of her foot connected with his nose. His hands left her and flew to his face, swearing loudly as blood began to spill down his chin. She pulled herself to her hands and knees, stretching to reach under the bed. When she felt his wand in her hand she jumped to her feet, turning back to the guard.

"I really am sorry," she said, her voice shaking. "Episkey."

The guard moaned in pain as his nose snapped back into place. He opened his mouth in protest, but Hermione pointed the wand at him again. "Silencio. Petrificus Totalus."

She looked at the guard one last time, pushing down the guilt that bubbled in her stomach, before bolting out the door. She needed to get to Wales. She needed to be there before the Auror's showed up. She had to get to Remus. She had to warn him.

Hermione sprinted down the corridor, silently thanking Merlin that she'd forgone heels the other morning in favor of flats. This late at night, there was only one guard on duty, and Hermione made a mental note to tell Harry that this was probably poor planning. If she still had any type of friendship with him after this was said and done, anyway. The idea of losing Harry felt so far-fetched that she couldn't even imagine it. He'd always been there and he would forgive her. Eventually. But, the thought of Remus being thrown in Azkaban to rot or be killed? That made her feel sick.

She used the old man's wand to break open the locked desk at the front of the hall. Sifting quickly through the drawers, Hermione looked for anything that could be of value, anything she could use. Inside the bottom drawer was a metal box containing a handful of confiscated wands. She rifled through them, locating the familiar vinewood and tossed the guard's wand into the box with the others.

She took off as fast as her legs would carry her. Bursting through the door that led to the stairwell, taking the steps two at a time, she ignored the stitch that formed in her side. Her mind raced, trying to figure out where to go. The Atrium led to the Floo Network, but Remus wasn't connected, and going to her own flat would be a waste of time. She'd have to get all the way outside to apparate…unless…

Hermione continued to climb with renewed vigor, the sound of her panting breath echoing around the stairwell. She could feel sweat beading on her forehead and the back of her neck, her palms damp and slipping on the railing. Finally, when she reached the sixth floor, she wretched the door open. Hermione had never actually been to the Apparition Testing Centre. When she took the test, it was at Hogwarts with all the other students. But, she'd come to the Magical Transportation Department enough to be familiar with the other offices on the floor.

Without stopping to take a breath, she careened to the left knowing every plaque that marked each door by heart. Broom Regulation Control, Portkey Office, Floo Network Authority. At the end of the hall, the last door on the left, sat the Test Centre. Hermione gripped the knob and let out a whine of frustration when it refused to turn.

"Alohomora," she hissed, jabbing the door with her wand.

She nearly cried with relief when it opened, not really keen on having to damage Ministry property any further. But, at this point, she supposed it didn't really matter.

The room was large and open. Massive red hoops lined the floors for testers to practice and Hermione stepped inside one, her eyes landing on a poster on the wall that read: Destination, Determination, Deliberation.

Destination. Well, that was easy enough. The Copi Gwynthi Forest in Wales. She pictured it clearly in her mind. The massive trees covered in moss, the thick grass littered with drooping bushes and fallen twigs, the muddy clearing that she'd spent hours waiting in.

Determination. She had that in droves. She was fueled by Harry's words still ringing in her ears. "You've never been that reckless for someone you didn't love." She didn't think she was in love with Remus, for Merlin's sake. But, she didn't not love him either. And right now, it didn't matter. What did matter was that Remus was going to be arrested or killed and she could figure out whatever feelings she may or may not have for him later.

Deliberation. She didn't need to deliberate. She needed to get to Wales. She needed to feel the mud on the bottom of her shoes and smell the shit-pit of manure that stung her nose and she needed it now.

Hermione felt the compression of apparition almost instantly. Her chest was so tight her lungs seized up, breath catching in her throat. She felt the stretch of her muscles as she dematerialized from the inside of the red hoop. Her stomach clenched as her feet hit hard ground. Her knees buckled and she pitched forward, catching herself with her palms against the underbrush.

The silence was deafening.

A breeze rustled the trees and Hermione looked around, "Homenum Revelio."

A silvery orb of light emitted from the tip of her wand, hanging in the air for only a moment before dissipating back into the stagnant, July heat. She shook up the sleeve of her robes, looking down at her watch. She had two minutes. Two minutes to sit and wait. Two minutes to figure out how to stop Remus from finally apprehending the one person who had turned his life upside down so many years ago. To figure out what to say to get him to reconsider.

How was she supposed to convince a man who cared so little for his own life that his life was worth living?

She let out an angry, frustrated scream. This was a waste of time. She had no idea where Remus was to go to him there, and the longer she sat waiting for him to arrive, the more likely she was going to get caught by Harry when he inevitably showed up.

One minute.

Hermione's heart hammered in her chest. The sound of blood rushed in her ears. Her stomach felt queasy with adrenaline. She moved back toward the large tree she had taken a liking to in the few times she'd followed Remus here.

Seconds later a crack of apparition signalled Remus' arrival, followed by a low snarling.

"You think you can show up and what? Kill me?" Greyback stood before Remus, his face bloodied. "Try again. I'm your sire, Remus Lupin. Your Alpha. You will never—"

"Incarcerous," Hermione hissed, pointing her wand at Greyback's chest.

Remus wheeled around, his face beaten and bruised. "What the fuck do you think you're—"

"We don't have time for this right now, Remus!" Hermione asserted, urgently. "Harry knows. He'll be here any minute. Leave him. We need to go."

"No," Remus spat, "he'll die like the rest of them, begging for his life."

Remus turned sharply around to face Greyback, cutting his wand through the air with a "Crucio" on his lips. Greyback howled, writhing around on the ground in agony. Remus pointed his wand at the werewolf's chest, his eyes cold and jaw clenched.

Hermione groaned and strode forward, placing a gentle hand on Remus' wand arm. He growled dangerously, tearing his eyes away from Greyback. His top lip curled up in a snarl, his sharp teeth bared.

Her eyes searched his face, pleading with him to listen to her. "We do not have time for this. We need to go. Now."

"Listen to your bitch, pup," Greyback choked out.

"Oh for fuck's sake!" Hermione cried, whipping around to face Greyback. "Silencio."

She smirked with satisfaction as Greyback opened his mouth to retort, his face going red with rage as he tried to scream insults at them.

"Remus, listen to me," Hermione began, stepping between Remus and Greyback to bring her hands to his face. His amber eyes landed on her, nostrils flaring as he took angry breaths. "We have to go. Harry is going to be here any second, and he's going to—"

Another crack of apparition alerted them to Harry's arrival and Hermione stepped to the side, squinting to see in the dark.

"Stop!" Harry said, his voice loud and authoritative.

Remus looked at Hermione and back to the direction Harry's voice came. A moment later, Harry stepped forward, a disillusionment charm fading quickly.

His eyes landed on Hermione and he shook his head. "I should have known better."

"Yes," she agreed. "You should have."

He gave her a sad smile before redirecting his gaze to Remus. He held his hands out in front of him, as if approaching a wild animal. And, Hermione thought, that was probably a good tactic considering how close to the moon it was.

"Remus," Harry began, "Don't do this. I know he deserves it, I know the pain he's caused you—"

"You know nothing, Harry," Remus murmured. To anyone else, it would have sounded almost pleasant. But Hermione knew the difference. She knew the sarcastic, biting lilt to Remus' words. He was placating Harry, and Harry was a fool if he thought Remus would turn himself in quietly.

"I know that's a wanted Death Eater that you've got bound and silenced on the ground. I also know that turning him in could be used as a bargaining chip during a trial. Just come with me. I swear to you, Remus, on my father's grave, I will not let them treat you unfairly."

"You have no say in what the Wizengamot decides," Remus hissed. Harry stopped inching forward, looking stunned by the dangerous tone Remus used. "This beast is the reason I have been tossed aside for almost forty years. I will not give up my one chance to put an end to it."

Hermione swallowed, her wand hand twitching. She could tell Harry was trying to deescalate the situation, which was why he hadn't drawn his wand yet. He really was trying to make this as easy as he could, trying to keep true to his word. But, Hermione knew the second Remus acted, Harry would not hold back. Remus was a vicious dueler, but so was Harry.

"Remus, please," Harry begged.

Remus' eyes narrowed, the muscles along his neck jumping as he worked his jaw. He gave Harry a scathing look before turning back around to face Greyback. Hermione felt her stomach drop, her eyes glued to Harry.

Harry shook his arm, his wand sliding from its holster to land smoothly in the palm of his hand. His opposite hand grasped the Auror badge on his robes and Harry requested backup.

"No," Hermione said. "Harry, please."

"I'm sorry," he said, his wand pointing between Remus' shoulders.

Hermione jumped forward, putting herself between Remus and Harry, her wand held out in front of her.

"Finite Incatatum," Remus snarled. "I want to hear you beg for your life, the way I begged for mine."

"Harry," Hermione begged, her eyes wide, chin trembling.

She could hear Greyback taunting Remus, could feel the anger rolling off Remus in waves. She looked over her shoulder as Remus raised his wand again.

When she looked back to Harry, he was burning holes into her face. A silent demand to step aside. She shook her head minutely, her eyes filled with tears as she spat Harry's own words back to him.

"I'm sorry it has to be like this right now but you'll forgive me one day. Incarcerous."

Harry's eyes went wide, his wand dropping from his hand. Thin, magical cords snaked their way around his torso, binding his arms to his sides.

"Hermione," he gasped, his voice stretched thin with distress.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, wipingly furiously at the tears that began to fall past the rims of her burning eyes. Hermione grasped Remus' arm, and he tore his eyes away from Greyback, staring intensely at her.

"Let go of me," he ordered, his voice low and menacing.

"No," Hermione grit out through clenched teeth.

He jerked his elbow, shoving her away from him. She stumbled backward and landed on her arse, pain rocketing up her spine.

Remus turned back to face Greyback, his wand held steady, directed at the man's bleeding face.

"Avada Kedavra."

A flash of green.

A thud of a body.

A pop in the distance.

And then another.

And another.

She tore her eyes away from Remus to look at Harry one last time, trying to put as much of an apology into her quick, tear-streaked glance as she could. Then, in a single movement, she pushed up from the ground and lunged forward to grab Remus' arm.

Her nails bit into the skin of his wrist as the sounds of Auror's apparating ito the clearing echoed around them. With a deep breath, Hermione turned on her heel, shouts of stunning spells and jets of red light crashing around them.

The compression of apparition pulled her and Remus away in a cyclone of rain soaked leaves.

Fin

a/n: I just want to give a big huge shout out to my amazing betas for this fic. JessiRomantic worked with me as an alpha. She was also a second beta on the first five chapters and DrunkenWinky Beta'd every damn chapter, spending hours of her time to help me get this right. Literally, this fic would be nothing without them. Please, if you enjoy rarepairs, check them both out on AO3. They're incredible.

Thank you so much for reading! For every comment, follow, and fave. I appreciate them all so much. Come hang out with me on twitter sometimes mimifreed

xoxo

Mimi