Date:

February 4th, 1980

Living in the past was like reading your favorite book in a different language.

So many things were the same, and yet so decidedly different. Diagon Alley was the same street, but housed different shops. The clothes people donned as the walked were ones that Hermione was familiar with only through pictures and movies. Even the way people spoke, the expressions that they used, was odd and out of place to her.

She loathed it all.

The constant reminders that she was so far from home set her on edge. And the research, which was unceasing and utterly discouraging, didn't help matters at all. All she'd discovered in trying to find her way home was that she despised the study of time travel.

Aside from her brief soiree with a time turner in her third year, time travel had never been a subject of much interest to Hermione. It wasn't that the material wasn't fascinating, because it certainly was. It was just that the entire thing was so… so… theoretical. With time travel, nothing was certain. Even time turners, which were real and tangible, were a mystery; with their creator destroying any evidence of how they are made or function.

The abstract nature of it all was troubling to Hermione, as her problems were anything from hypothetical. They were real, and tangible, and not able to be solved by theory alone.

Since her accident she'd read roughly 22 books concerning time travel, the shop's entire inventory on the subject. Each had varying degrees of credibility.

Some were all theory, discussing the different possible ways that time travel could affect the timeline. Other books were more practical, and discussed accounts of others who had attempted the practice. These were all roughly the same in structure. They'd discuss how they subject had gone about their experiments, and how they had all, inevitably, failed.

Hermione's favorite so far had been a rather apocalyptic tome covering ancient ruins. It asserted that if a certain set of ruins were combined in the right scenario, they would trigger someone to travel backwards in time and kick start the end of their world. It wasn't helpful in the least, but the colorful language had been a nice change of pace.

That had been the one Remus had caught her reading. The same one that Lily had read.

Lily.

She was another problem entirely.

When she'd first come to the past, Hermione not only used the shop as a cover, but also as a source of materials. Now that she'd searched all the useful material, it was only logical that she should move on and find somewhere else with more variety. Maybe a library. Except….

Lily Potter had studied time travel in the very place that had sent her to the past. Having been an intern, she almost certainly had studied the Box. She was probably the person most suited in the entire world to help her with her research. It would be almost unthinkable to not try to pursue the possibility of an interview, and yet Hermione wasn't sure.

It didn't feel entirely ethical.

Hermione knew she couldn't change the past. It was a lesson she'd learned well in her third year. Experience with a time turner had taught her that time was cyclical. You couldn't go back and change something in the past, because, if you tried, you'd only find that you'd already gone back and done it before. While knowing this didn't really help her, it did give her some comfort. It allowed her to go out into the world without fear that her every movement was causing some catastrophic event.

No, no matter how much she wished otherwise, Lily & James Potters fate was sealed, and therefore should have no bearing as to whether or not she met either of them. Still, she couldn't think of the meeting without her stomach turning. Could she really sit across a table and chat with a woman she knew would die less than two years from then? Could she stand to take her advice and her research and use it to her own advantage?

Logically, yes, of course she could. If she wanted to get home, she had to accept any help she could, no matter the source. But would she be able to look Harry in the eyes afterward? How could he not resent her? She'd tell him there was nothing she could have done, that it went against every rule of nature. He'd assure her that he understood, but, in his heart, he wouldn't. What were the rules of nature to the man who had cheated death twice? He'd continue to be her friend, but it could never be the same. She would always be the witch who'd let his mother die.

She shook her head, trying to clear her mind of those thoughts. It was no use worrying about such things now, she reminded herself. The chance that she would ever actually meet Lily were slim to none.

No, if she were honest with herself, she knew she should cut her losses and move on. She'd done all she could at the shop. Seeing Remus had already been a lark, and an odd one at that. He'd asked her so many questions, as if wanting to get to know her, as if he already knew… No, he was just being nice. That was the kind of person Remus was, friendly and naturally curious. It had probably meant nothing to him.

She couldn't waste anymore time.

After a sleepless night of waring between her head and her heart, she was determined to give it one more week. If nothing happened in the next week, then she could move on in peace, confident in her choice. However, if something did happen...

'Don't you dare hope.' she told herself. 'Hope is something you can't afford.'

This time she saw him before he spoke.

She was re-shelving books toward the back of the store, leaving Owen to man the register. This suited him well, as it gave him the opportunity to flirt shamelessly with every witch that came through the door. The physical labor was good for her, as it gave her a reprieve from the constantly whirling thoughts in her head. She was perfectly content with the task, until she'd heard footsteps, and looked up to see a familiar intruder.

He was wandering the aisles, clearly looking for something, and before she could turn her back, his eyes caught hers. A spark of recognition shone, and he bound towards her grinning.

Hermione tried not to let her hopes rise at his appearance, but she felt her heart swell slightly despite her best efforts. After the uncertainty of ever seeing him again, his appearance now, so soon after their last interaction, was a relief.

"Good morning Jane." His voice was cheery, and it struck her as odd. His manner the previous evening had been markedly awkward, and yet today, he seemed confident.

"Oh, hello." She nodded at him slightly, before returning to her task at hand. She still couldn't appear too eager. It would not do her any good to have him grow suspicious of her.

"How are you today?" He asked politely, still with a large smile plastered on his face.

"Fine. And yourself?"

"Perfectly well. Thanks for asking."

They lulled into an awkward silence between them, as she continued shelving. After a moment, seizing on her Gryffindor courage, she decided to forge forward.

"Is there any particular book that you need help finding?" She asked, finally pausing in her task, and turning towards him fully.

"No. I actually try to stick to just buying one book per month, which I got yesterday. It takes some self control, but I manage." He chuckled lightly at his small joke, but she only smiled lightly.

"Do you need help with something else then?" Her voice was polite, and despite her best efforts, slightly strained. As much as she'd been hoping to see him, this wasn't going exactly as she'd thought it would. In her mind, the only reason he could be here was to tell her that Lily had agreed to meet, but the longer they stood without getting to the point, the more anxious she became.

He visibly lost some of his bravado, and began to shuffle from foot to foot.

"I… ummm... do you enjoy reading?"

Immediately, Hermione's guard raised, and weariness began to spread within her. She racked her brain trying to think of any reason he might be questioning her like this. Coming up with none, she decided to be as vague as possible.

"I work in a bookshop." She said dryly.

"Yes, I've spotted that." He leaned against the bookcase, trying to make himself comfortable. "I just didn't think that it was a generally held belief that your place of work dictated your interests. For instance, your coworker over there doesn't strike me as much of a reader."

He indicated to Owen, who was doing his best Gilderoy Lockhart impression trying to impress the young witch who had just come in.

"Maybe he's the exception." She replied flippantly, trying not to encourage the conversation.

"And you're the rule?" His eyebrows rose. "What do you enjoy reading? I can only assume that time travel isn't your only interest."

"No, it's not." Her words were quieter, and she was beginning to feel trapped by his line of questioning. This was not how this was supposed to go. Why would he care about her reading habits? Was he questioning her for some other reason?

"Then, what else are you interested in?"

"Mr. Lupin…" She started, somewhat warningly.

"You should call me Remus."

"No, I really don't think I should." Her voice was low and sarcastic, and she saw him flinch. Instead of shrinking away, however, he seemed to rise to the challenge.

"Why not?" He questioned.

"Because I don't know you! And you don't know me!" She exclaimed, finally letting some of the tension she'd been building release.

"I think you may have failed to notice that I'm trying to get to know you." His voice was light, almost gentle, the kind that you'd use when trying not to scare an animal away.

"And why would you be doing that?" Hermione couldn't understand his motive at all, and that, combined with the very familiarity of him, was beginning to drive her mad.

"Well…" He stopped, his confidence seeming to falter. "I'd like to take you out sometime."

Huh.

For a moment her mind was blank, unable to process what he'd just said.

"What?" She was surprised her voice even worked

"If you'd let me, I'd like to take you to dinner. We don't have to talk about reading if that's a sensitive subject for you." The way he said it, one would think it was the most casual request in the world, though she could see that it took him some effort.

"I don't understand."

"You don't understand that I'm asking you on a date?" He asked, faking a laugh to hide the tension that he felt.

"I thought..."

"What?" He seemed genuinely concerned, his brow furrowing in confusion.

She'd been a fool, and worse than that, she'd been inexplicably cruel. So focused on her own motives, she'd never stopped to seriously consider his. She'd written him off as artificially nice, because it was easier than thinking of him for what he truly was. A person. A man. Someone with feelings and motivations seperate to her own. He was not some tool to be used for her own advantage.

And now, facing the stark reality was like a slap in the face.

No. It was obvious. She couldn't do that to him. No. Not even if he had one hundred friends who studied time travel.

She couldn't sit across from him and pretend to be normal when she knew the suffering that faced him in the future; when she knew the date of his death. It would be a mockery, one that he didn't deserve. Not for the chance that he might be able to introduce her to someone who might be able to help her.

She shook her head sadly. "I'm sorry, but I can't."

"Oh." He didn't make any moves to walk away, but instead stood there quietly for a minute with a contemplative look on his face. "Can I ask why not?"

She felt herself grow defensive at that. No, she couldn't explain why, and no, it wasn't her fault. She'd not asked for any of this. She didn't ask to be yanked from her world. She didn't want to meet anyone she'd know in the future. And frankly, she didn't understand his intentions at all. Why would he want to go out with her in the first place? What gave him the right to even ask?

"What if I said you couldn't?" Her words weren't exactly angry, but they had enough of edge on them to give away her irritation. It was the harshest she'd ever spoke to Remus, in either time, and she immediately regretted the words.

"Then, I guess I'd have to be fine with that." He shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets, while his shoulder shrugged in defeat. "Have a good rest of your day then."

He began to walk away, and she felt her heart pull in anguish. Merlin, she really was a monster.

This was Remus. Kind, sweet, Remus who spent his entire life feeling like he wasn't good enough because of his disease. She couldn't understand his rationale for asking her out, and there was no way she could allow it to happen, but she also didn't want to hurt him. Not anymore than she already inadvertently had, at least.

"Wait, I'm sorry. That was inexcusably rude." She said, now desperate to try to make up for any harm she'd caused.

He stopped, and turned around. His face wasn't nearly as open as it had been before, but she could clearly see the hurt in his eyes. "You don't have to apologize. You shouldn't feel obligated to go out with…"

"No, it's not that." She cut him off quickly. "It's just… I didn't do a very good job verbalizing what I wanted to say. You caught me off guard. I didn't mean it the way it seemed." She flinched at her jumbled words. At least he'd stopped. She had a chance to make this right.

"Ok. How did you mean it?" His words were calm, but no smile graced his face as he spoke.

"It's not you. It's me."

His sudden laughter startled her.

"Wow, that's a line."

She blushed at the realization of exactly what she'd said, and rushed again to correct herself. "No... again I'm not good at this. I don't date. Anybody. Period."

His eyebrows rose, and his head turned slightly, considering her words.

"At all?" He questioned, seemingly genuinely surprised.

"No. It's just not something I'm interested in right now."

He ran a hand through his hair, clearly thinking the whole situation over. "I guess that's fair."

"So please, don't take it personally. I'm sure you're lovely." She tried to sound reassuring, and even smiled slightly, though she was sure it looked strained.

"I'll try to keep that in mind." His smile wasn't nearly as wide as earlier, although Hermione was glad to see a smile nonetheless. "I'll see you around Jane."

"Goodbye Remus."

Date:

February 14th, 1980

It had been ten days since she'd seen Remus.

If she were honest with herself, she didn't know why she had expected to see him again. Typically, people who are shot down don't come back for a repeat performance. It should have been a good thing, his absence. It would allow her to move on to another place, a more productive place, without worrying that she had missed an opportunity. She should be relieved.

She looked at the bookshop around her, wondering for what felt like the hundredth time why she wasn't relieved.

He had come into her life like a tidal wave, doing just enough damage to disturb her life, before retreating and leaving her to pick up the pieces. Before she'd seen him, she'd been fine. Well… relatively fine. As fine as someone could be in her situation.

After he left, however, she was forced to face the reality of her situation.

She was lonely. Desperately so. She'd been so focused on her research, on her survival, on following her own self-inflicted rules, that she'd failed to notice how blisteringly lonely she'd become. Sure, she was constantly around people in the shop, but when was the last time she'd had a meaningful conversation with someone? How many weeks had it been since she'd laughed, genuinely laughed, with someone?

How had she been so thick as to not have recognized it before?

What Remus had offered her was companionship. He was a person that could help her carry her load. He would never be able to actually help her, not in an academic sense, but he could give her a chance to take a break from chaos that had become her reality, and connect, really connect, with another person.

And she had turned him away.

Of course, it had been the right thing to do. She wasn't wrong in her assessment of the situation. Forming a relationship, romantic or not, would never be fair to him. That didn't stop her from regretting that she couldn't though.

In his absence, it'd been all she'd been able to think about; the possibilities of what could have been playing on a constant loop in her mind. It was almost pathetic how she kept up her work in the shop, just for the chance that she might see him again. It was an act of self pity.

"I've been thinking about what we talked about the other day." A voice startled her out of her thoughts, and she turned to see the very man who had occupied them.

"It's you." She turned around, and gaping at Remus, as he leaned casually against a nearby bookcase. Hermione stared at him hard for a few seconds to make sure he was really there, and remarkably enough, he was.

"Yes, and I've been thinking." He stated plainly, not acknowledging her surprise. He held himself differently than he had the other day. While previously he'd been all false bravado and nervous energy, now his stance was similar to someone that was preparing for battle.

Something else was different to.

"You're hurt." She exclaimed, pointing to the nasty looking cut above one of his eyebrows. He only shrugged it off.

"It's nothing." He replied nonchalantly.

"It looks infected." Her eyes were still focused on it, as her mind raced through the dates on her calendar.

There hadn't been a full moon in the last ten days, which meant… He'd been out for the Order. The thought sent a shiver down his spine. Remus had never shared much with them about his time with the original Order. They were clearly painful memories to relive, and none of the Golden Trio had ever had the heart to push him to.

This Remus was living those memories. While he wasn't unharmed, it seemed he'd gotten out of this one relatively unscathed. She wondered just how bad it had already gotten. But no, she stopped herself before she thought about it for too long. The Order here wasn't any of her business.

"Believe me, I've had worse. Anyways, we're getting off track here. I've been thinking about what you said concerning dating." He continued.

"Ok." She responded, hesitatingly, slightly worried where this was heading.

"Well, I've come up with a compromise. Just because you aren't interested in dating doesn't mean we can't get to know one another." He started, smiling as if he'd solved a particularly tough riddle. "We could be friends."

"Oh."

Friends.

Her first instinct was to say no immediately. Nothing had really changed. It would still be unethical. She'd still be withholding massive amounts of information from him. It would be selfish, and mean, and…

She wanted to say yes so very badly.

"I… don't know what to say." She answered honestly.

"Yes, is always a good answer." He replied cheekily. While his posture remained casual, she could see a sort of tension in his stance. This conversation clearly mattered to him. For some reason, she mattered to him.

Hermione thought about it for a moment before continuing.

"Is that really what you want? Just to be my friend?"

His eyebrows rose slightly. "That's what I said, wasn't it?"

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to seem… hesitant. It's just that I'm slightly confused. Before you asked me on a date, and now you come in claiming all you'd like to be is friends. Which is it?" She needed to be sure. If this was going to work, if she were to give in and let him in as a friend, he had to know now that they could never be more.

"Yes, I can see why you might be confused." He paused for a moment, looking at his feet. "Look, I'll be honest with you. I think you're beautiful, and smart, and wildly mysterious, and I would love for the chance to take you out."

Her heart dropped. "Remus…"

"No, let me finish. I can accept that you're not interested in getting to know me romantically. What I can't accept is losing the chance to get to know you at all. I think you'd make a good friend, so why not?" He replied earnestly. The conviction in his voice rang true, but still...

"Will it be enough, just being friends? You have to know upfront that my opinion on dating is not going to change."

He didn't answer right away, clearly considering her words carefully. The silence weighed heavily on her until he continued.

"Yes. Jane, I'd never want to take anything you're not willing to give."

She believed him. Merlin, she had no actual reason to, but she believed him. Her heart started beating a little faster as she considered what was actually happening. A sudden horrifying thought struck her, and she couldn't let this go forward before putting it into words.

"What if I'm not what you expect? You don't really know me. What if you're disappointed?"

His grin was back, and he shook his head as if she'd said something ridiculous. "Trust me, I won't be."

"I guess if you're sure…" She trailed off, not exactly know how to finish her thought. It suddenly struck her how terribly formal this all felt. "Friends it is."

Remus looked at her as if she'd given him a brand new Firebolt, his face awash in joy. They stood for a moment, with him smiling down at her, before he seemed to remember himself, and blushed slightly. He cleared his throat, and powered onward.

"Well, if we are going to be friends, we should get started on the basic friendship protocol."

"Of course." She said with a small smile. A part of herself still rebelled at the idea of letting this go any further, but at this point she was not sure she could stop herself. "Remind me exactly what the protocol is again."

He huffed, rolling his eyes in fake annoyance. "You must be really out of practice if you can't remember the simple stuff. Friendships must be built on general understanding of the other person."

"And how are you expecting that we gain such understanding?" She asked, interested in the game that he was concocting.

"Oh, you know, the usual way." He said, shrugging his shoulders. "Get pissed, swap life stories, commiserate over old disappointments. Things of that nature."

It was her turn to look skeptical. "That's how you usually make friends? Get pissed and cry about the past?"

"You know, come to think about it, I may be a bit rusty at making friends, as well." He said, his eyebrows knitting together in contemplation. "I haven't really had to do it since I was 11 years old and a first year at Hogwarts."

"I can't imagine you got pissed as a first year."

He looked slightly surprised at her little joke, but obviously took it as a good sign. "Don't start underestimating me, love. I'll have you know my mates and I got into heaps of trouble at school."

"And that's something you brag about?" She queried.

"I couldn't have you go around thinking I'm anything less than a bona fide bad boy." She took in his smirking face for a moment before turning back to the work that she'd been neglecting since he'd come in. "What about you then, what kind of student were you?"

"I was... Studious." She said, feeling that it wasn't necessarily a lie. Because, she didn't really want to lie to him. Not about the things that she didn't have to.

"Hmmm… I can't imagine that. You don't seem like the bookish type at all." He remarked in fake disbelief.

"Ha Ha" she responded sarcastically.

He sobered slightly, and looked at her sincerely. "But, seriously, I know you didn't go to Hogwarts. Where did you go?"

Hermione thought back to the cover story she had concocted, and regretted having to use it. But that was the bargain she'd have to make. She'd let him in, and allow him to assuage her loneliness, while at the same time being wracked with the constant guilt of lying to him.

"I attended Beauxbaton." She stated. It was better to keep facts short, and not elaborate unless completely necessary.

"In France?" He queried. "How very unpatriotic."

"The decision to send me there had very little to do with patriotism, I assure you." Hermione snorted.

"Then what was it about?"

"My father is French. His parents had attended Beauxbaton and he'd always dreamed of going, but since he was a squib, he never got the chance. When I started showing signs of magic, he was adamant that I should attend where he could not." She smiled, as she recalled the kernel of truth that had led to the story.

While her father was not a squib or even French, he had always been a Francophile, and was severely disappointed when his own parents hadn't sent him to an exclusive French boarding school. As an adult, he frequently took his family on trips to the continent, and had planned to send Hermione abroad before her Hogwarts letter arrived.

"And your mother? Is she… English?" Hermione heard the question he wanted, but was too polite to ask.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Yes, my mother is English, and she's a muggle. Not that it matters."

"Of course it doesn't matter." Remus started quickly. "My mum's a muggle as well."

"Really?" Hermione said with real surprise. The Lupin in her time had never shared the fact with her.

"Yeah. She stumbled across a boggart in the woods and was frightened nearly to death. Luckily my dad was around, recognized what it was, and 'saved' her." He put finger quotes around the word saved. "Didn't get around to telling her she was never in any actual danger until after they were married. Decent bloke he is."

"That's a nice story. Your parents must really love each other."

"It is, and they do." A wistful smile crossed his face. "They're good people, my parents. I don't get to see them nearly enough, as they live in Wales."

"Yes, because wizards haven't come up with ways to travel long distances quickly." The sarcasm dripped from her voice, and it was his turn to roll his eyes at her.

"You've got me there." He chuckled, if not a little sadly. Hermione wondered if it wasn't physical distance that was keeping the Lupins apart, but emotional. "And what about you? Are you the good daughter who visits mummy and daddy every Sunday for roast?"

Her face fell. "No, actually. That would be quite impossible. They both passed last year."

He immediately looked aghast at his thoughtlessness.

"Oh, Jane. I'm so sorry."

"Thank you." she turned as not to make eye contact. Lying about her parents felt wrong. While claiming they were dead was easier to explain than that they were living and currently raising an infant version of herself, it still felt like a betrayal. "It was an accident. Ran off the road in the storm. I was told they didn't suffer."

"That doesn't make it easier though." He added softly.

"No it doesn't."

Their conversation lulled, and Hermione tried not to let her hurt show as her mind moved to her own parents. Had they retrieved their memories only to have their only daughter disappear? No... don't think about it.

"So, what do you think of the carnivorous plants of the Amazon?" He asked, his voice artificially cheerful. The oddness of it was enough to break her melancholy.

"Where did that come from?" She laughed.

"The book you're holding." He indicated towards her hands. "'The Complete Encyclopedia of Carnivorous Amazonian Plants and Fungi. Vol. 1.' Surely there can't be enough to warrant two volumes?"

She shook her head. "No. I mean... I don't know. I've never read this one. Just re-shelving it."

"You mean to tell me that someone actually took the time to pick that book off the shelf?" He laughed.

"Apparently." She took a minute to look down at the book, thinking. "Maybe they're planning a foreign expedition and wanted to get caught up on the terrain."

"If that's the case, I hope the poor fellas changed his mind."

"Why do you say that?" Hermione asked.

"Well, if this book did its job it should have scared him out of the idea entirely."

Not being able to hold it in any longer, Hermione laughed, and Remus joined in.

A/N- Thank you everybody for reading! And especially thank you to those who have taken the time to leave a review. I really love hearing from you all. For the reviewer who commented on the date discrepancy in the last chapter, thank you so much for pointing it out, and I've gone back and changed it to show the correct date! This was by far the hardest chapter of the whole story to write (I don't always go in chronological order), but in the end I'm happy with it. Hope you enjoy, and I'll see you next Friday for another update!