Tie your Heart at Night to Mine, Love

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: Hello again!

I decided to continue this story – yay! LOL

I know the chapter is too short, but I'm a heavy procrastinator and it takes me way longer to write long ones. The next ones will probably be short as well, but I solemnly swear to update every week to make it up to you!

I want to send a huge thank you to the reviewers (pianomouse and Ominouswolf), followers (pianomouse, Calindy and Phoenix in the ash) and to Phoenix in the ash for adding the story to the favorites. You guys are awesome! :)

Enjoy,

BHS

P.S.: If you read To Catch a Heart, don't worry – I haven't abandoned it and I've already sent the next chapter to my beta, so I'll post it soon.

Hermione disentangled herself from Professor Lupin's arms long enough to push herself to a sitting position and pull him towards her. Her wand had flown from her hand when he had tackled her to the ground, but she made no effort to look for it and retrieve it. The battle was over— the war was over—but then it wasn't. She swallowed. It couldn't be. Voldemort was dead, yes, but the void in her chest told her that the moment it was over she would go into shock and the man whose head she was cradling in her lap needed her to fight.

Her hands were clammy as she brushed his sandy brown hair from his face. Birds chirped somewhere – the morning had come and Hermione stared at him, almost expecting his eyes to slowly open. He looked like a morning person. But there was dried blood and dirt caked across his cheeks, chin and the all the way down his neck and she knew he wouldn't wake up simply because there were bloody birds chirping. She checked for his pulse, avoiding the open cuts and the tender spot in his jaw that was starting to change color. There was still a beating – a very strong one, in fact, but paired with an uncommon heat of his skin. Was it a werewolf thing? She'd never touched him for more than a few seconds at a time before and her mind came blank as she searched for the answer in her head.

"Help." She whispered. Hermione looked up and forced her voice to work, managing a raspy shrill tone, "Help! Somebody help!"

Heads turned her way – the students she had saved were still close by, yet in no condition of assisting her. They were battered and shaking, and having been to the wrong end of a Cruciatus herself, she knew it was a miracle they were still conscious at all. Hermione finally looked around for her wand. Broken bricks from the demolished wall were scattered around her and the concrete dust had yet to settle, making it even more difficult to spot it. She looked back at Lupin – Professor Lupin, she corrected – and her eyes trailed down to his body, covered by a brownish green robe that had once probably been a lively agate tone and free of rips. She found his wand, still clutched in his right hand and without trying to pry it open, she covered his large hand with hers and lifted it.

'You really are the brightest witch of your age', she remembered. "Expecto Patronum!"

For a moment, she thought that the memory had been too weak, as thinking of the Professor's words had brought tears to her eyes, but the white mist began to form at the tip of his wand. Her otter seemed uncommonly large through her blurry vision, but she dismissed it as a result of having her eyes full of tears. "Professor Lupin needs help, please come."

The white patronus left her and it felt like ages had passed until Kingsley Shacklebolt arrived, followed by Mr. Weasley and Professor McGonagall.

Hermione wiped her tears with the sleeve of her jeans jacket, not caring that her cuts stung and probably reopened as she rubbed the rough cloth against them.

"Hermione, what happened?" Mr. Weasley asked. Hermione felt a pang of guilt as she saw the concern etched in his already grief-stricken expression. Auror Shacklebolt looked more collected and began waving his wand it in a very familiar way.

"Don't!" cried Hermione, hunching over the werewolf's body in a protective gesture. At his inquisitive glance, she explained. "He was hit with a wordless spell, purple sparks. If we levitated him he might get worse. He was trying to save me."

The Auror nodded and tucked his wand beneath his robes. Along with Mr. Weasley he moved to lift the unconscious Professor Lupin off her lap. Hermione tried to get up, only to almost fall as her numb legs gave out. Professor McGonagall's hand gripped her arm before she fell.

"Hermione, are you alright?"

Hermione nodded and willed her legs to stand straight. The head of Gryffindor's hand was still wrapped around her arm. "I'm okay, Professor. I have to go with them. The students, will you care for them?"

Hermione turned her head towards the fifth years on the ground and McGonagall's gaze followed. There was something sad and pitiful in the professor's eyes as she looked back to Hermione and released her from her hold. "Yes. Yes, I shall. Go on."