A/N: Two short-ish chapters before the long weekend! Hopefully I'll have a longer update for you lovelies next week! Thank you for all the reviews and favs and follows! I adore you all. And to Jimmielee, you reviewed as a guest so I can't direct message you, but don't worry, the door and the universe have a plan for Hermione. :]
oOo
"I thought I'd find you here."
Hermione looked up into the sage green eyes of the werewolf towering above her and smiled warmly. "It is my new favorite room in the house." She admitted.
Since the night Hermione had dubbed "Don't Ever Get That Fucking Drunk Again, Granger" and the "I Fucking Hate Sirius Black" hangover that had followed it, Hermione had been alternating her time between the library at Hogwarts and the extensive collection that made up the Black Family library. Perhaps it was the differing timelines or perhaps the Hogwarts library simply didn't have the same books in 1982 as it would have in 1998, but Hermione had found the Forbidden Section to be lacking. The library at Grimmauld Place, on the other hand, had managed to impress the amber eyed bibliophile.
As soon as she had stepped foot into the neglected room -Sirius needs to learn a simple cleaning spell for Godric's sake- Hermione could feel the low and study hum of old magic, arcane magic. The type of magic that came with the written word. Words had power. Spells and charms, enchantments and curses when spoken or written could alter the very fabric of reality itself, easily setting aside the laws of science and nature. The curly haired Muggle-born witch had never forgotten the importance of words, but purebloods, she had found, were less impressed with words and their power. Sirius had even begun to let this marvelous room succumb to decay, a process Hermione had taken upon herself to reverse.
"You've had your nose in one book or another for the last forty-eight hours." Remus commented, plopping down gracelessly besides Hermione on the small couch she had practically burrowed into. "Hiding out here all day- if I didn't know better I'd say you were trying to avoid me."
"No!" Hermione closed the tome she had been reading, her thumb still holding her page. "Never you, Pr-Remus!" Though this Remus Lupin only resembled her own in the most superficial of senses, it was still a struggle to not call him "professor."
"Ahhh... but you're avoiding someone then?" Remus looking sideways at Hermione, a tiny smile tickling at the corners of his mouth. "Some dark haired wizard, perhaps?"
He wishes I would pay enough attention to him to avoid him.
"I'm not avoiding anyone, I'm simply conducting my research." Hermione huffed, opening her book once again. "I do have an assignment, as you well know. Lots to do, little time to do it."
"Of course, how silly of me to suggest something so ridiculous." Remus chuckled to himself. "But y'know, love, you're not the only one with an assignment."
Damn, damn damn damn.
"Sirius and I were given direct orders from McGonagall herself to assist you with whatever you needed and so far you haven't given us anything to do." Remus practically whined. "I'm trapped here in this house with nothing to do."
"You made me tea earlier." Hermione quickly reminded him.
"Oh yes, how could I have forgotten. The Great Brewing of 1982." Remus spoke with mock propriety. "The good Lady Granger did bestow upon me the most important task of brewing her tea. A more gracious or kinder lady the wizarding world has never seen."
"Shut it, you!" Hermione giggled, elbowing Remus in the side.
"And then, after having found the tea to be unsatisfactory, the great lady did bless me with the knowledge of tea brewing, which until that moment, I apparently had no idea of, despite living my entire life as a Brit."
"It is not unreasonable to want one's tea brewed in a specific way!" Hermione insisted.
Can no one in this reality brew a simple cup of tea? Come to think Ron and Harry are awful at it as well, perhaps it's a male thing...
"Then you should brew it yourself, you shrill harpy." Remus teased, ignoring another elbow in his kidney.
"I tried! You insisted on doing it for me."
"Exactly! I'm desperate! I need a task, dear heart." Remus put his hand dramatically over his forehead and flopped down across Hermione's lap as if he were faint. "I will simply waist away to nothing out of sheer boredom if I can't find something to do. I haven't even left this house in days-"
"Just two." Hermione snorted.
"An millennia! An eternity trapped in these musky walls desperately in need of new wallpaper."
"Or no wallpaper."
"Trapped, oh woe is me! Trapped!"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "I haven't forced you to stay here."
"It's that bloody Auror, our jailer! He won't let me go anywhere, say's you have to be protected. The great prick is convinced there could be Death Eaters behind every tree and bush-"
"Hasn't kept the great prick from searching for other bush." Hermione muttered.
"What?" Remus whipped his head to look at Hermione,.
Fuck, that was out loud, Granger. "Hmm, oh? nothing, I was just agreeing with you that Sirius is paranoid." Excellent cover up, brilliant really. Quick, deflect! "I noticed that Sirius's asinine no leaving the house rule because you and I went out and had a little drink hasn't stopped him from leaving. OR bringing others over for that matter." In the last two nights Sirius's had managed to bring over no less than three random witches after his Auror shifts had ended, a feat Hermione couldn't help but be impressed with. She was less impressed with his ability to cast a silencing charm.
You're just jealous, because you haven't had sex in months. Well, good sex at least. Hermione had to admit, if their sexual relationship was anything to go by then her and Ron's romantic relationship had died months, maybe even years ago.
Fuck, did they ever even have a sexual relationship? They had sex, sure, but had it truly meant anything? In her twenty-two years Hermione had kissed three -Harry doesn't count- TWO men and had sex with one. She probably didn't even know what good sex was like, but she was pretty damn sure Ron was lousy at it.
Gods, at least I'll never have to lay through him trying that awful thing with his tongue again...
"Helloooo, Earth to Hermione, you alive in there, love?" Remus was waving his hand in Hermione's face.
Focus, Granger!
"Yes, right, sorry. I-I was just thinking about the book I was reading." And what real shagging might be like. FOCUS.
"Must be interesting." Remus mused, reaching under his back and pulling out the now crushed book. "Magical Treatise of Solomon? Godric, how old is this thing?"
"Medieval. I think it may be a second edition, though."
"Fuck!" Remus exclaimed, trying to smooth out the bent pages. "Don't tell Sirius."
Hermione guffawed. "I hardly think he'd care."
Remus considered this. "Good point, don't tell any of the other Blacks then."
Hermione froze. "Other Blacks?" She asked carefully. "What other Blacks? I thought Sirius being the last was the reason he inherited this house."
Remus nodded. "He's last Black heir sure, but not the last Black. He's got three married cousins and I'm pretty sure he still talks to at least one and the others... not so much."
"Bellatrix and Narcissa?"
"Yea." Remus wiggled in Hermione's lap to get a better look at her face. "How'd you know?"
"I asked Sirius for a list of all the known Death Eaters and he named Bellatrix and Narcissa's husband, Lucius."
"Lucius he just suspects, officially the Malfoys are clean, but Bellatrix..." Remus bit his bottom lip and furrowed his brow. "Bellatrix isn't someone you'd like to cross."
Been there, done that.
"So I've heard..."
A silence fell between the two and Hermione mindlessly began combing her fingers through Remus's hair the same way she had done to Harry on countless occasions, before he was dating Ginny. The familiar act soothed her, while her mind wandered.
Hermione had not seen Bellatrix since she'd watched Molly Weasley, in a brilliant act of murderous rage, send a curse into the crazed witch's heart during the Battle of Hogwarts. That moment had been satisfying and perfect and Hermione didn't want it spoiled by seeing Bellatrix's disgusting face alive and well. Hermione could hear her laughing, she could always hear her laughing...
"So!" Remus broke the silence. "Tell me what you've got chief. I have been known to pick up a book or two in my time, let me do some research."
Crappity crap crap.
"Oh, Remus... I..." Hermione floundered. "I've really got it under control."
Remus raised on eyebrow.
"Really, it's fine, I've got it. Hermione continued to insist despite Remus's silence. "No need to worry, Hermione Granger is on the case." What the fuck did I just say? "That is to say I've got it under control, all clear y'know, it's a-okay. I've got it figured out, it's on lockdown, it's all good-"
Remus put his hand over Hermione's mouth. "I don't know why you're saying those ridiculous things, but it need to stop." And then seriously he asked, "Hermione, do you not want our help?" An edge of hurt to his voice. "Do you not trust me?"
Hermione's eyes widened. "What? No! I mean, I mean yes! Don't look at me like that! Of course I trust you, that's not it at all."
"What is it, then? I just don't understand, why don't you trust me?"
Gods, it's like he's a fucking puppy. How can anyone be this sad yet adorable? My aching heart, stop looking at me! Hermione turned away. "I do! I do trust you!"
"But you won't let me help? Please let me help, Hermione. Couldn't you use a little help?"
Oh for Godric's sake. "Yes, yes I s'pose I could use a little help..."
"Excellent!" Remus exclaimed, popping up from Hermione's lap. "Tell me everything."
You've been played, Granger. Classic.
Hermione grumbled and slid from the couch to the floor, motioning for Remus to do the same. With a flick of her wand she summoned her papers from the table by the couch and they came flying to the floor. With meticulous precision, Hermione slid the papers, notes, and lists out between herself and Remus.
"Remus," Hermione began, staring into the wizard's deep pools of green, and considering her words carefully. "There are... things. I cannot tell you, even if I wanted to McGonagall has insisted that certain aspects of my mission remain a secret. For everyone's safety, something you simply cannot know."
Remus met Hermione's gaze and nodded slowly. "I assumed as much, I understand."
"These is... something I have to keep from happening and in oder to do that there are some things I have to find."
"By all means, Hermione, don't be too specific." Remus drawled.
"Shut it, Lupin! I'm doing the best I can." Hermione waved her finger at the wizard. "Just shut up and listen,"
Remus sighed, Hermione ignored it.
"So these things I'm trying to find, have dark secret in them, dark...things inside of them."
"Are these things objects?"
Hermione hesitated.
"C'mon now, Hermione."
"Yes, they're objects."
"So we're looking for cursed artifacts, simple enough."
If only anything about this could be fucking simple.
"Who cursed them?"
"Can't tell you."
"What if I guessed?" Remus grinned.
"I couldn't confirm or deny anything."
"Salazar Slytherin?"
"Nope."
"Solomon!"
"Nope."
"Voldemort."
"Nope."
"Baba Yaga."
"Seriously?"
"Fiiiiine. Let's just call whoever cursed these mystery objects Evil McEvilPants."
"Y'know, I was pretty convinced that of the three, you were the less ridiculous, but now I'm thinking it must be James." Hermione mumbled.
"Dear heart, you wound me!" Remus put a hand over his own heart before continuing. "So Evil McEvilPants, dastardly fellow that he is-"
"Could be a 'she'." Hermione pointed out.
"Could be, but I invented the character and I say he his most definitely a he. So, he cursed a few objects and set up some sort of evil plan to do evil things, yes?"
"I suppose in the simplest of terms, yes."
"No, your terms were the simplest of terms, I've added some dramatic flair to the whole thing."
Despite herself Hermione laughed. "I can't believe I'm sitting here on the floor discussing Evil McEvilPants with you."
Remus gave her a toothy grin. "I know, bet you never thought you'd be so lucky."
"No, pro-Remus, I never did." She admitted.
Remus looked at her strangely. "Hermione, why do you do that?"
"Do what?" Hermione asked, rearranging a few of her papers.
"You start to call me 'professor' and then stop yourself."
Hermione did not miss a step, she smiled up at him and told the truth. "Sorry, you remind me of a professor I used to have."
"Do I?" He asked. "What about me?"
"Your eyes." She stated.
"Hermione."
"Yes, Remus?"
"You talk in your sleep."