Be Silently Drawn
Part Two

Hermione lay restlessly in the darkness of her bedroom. Sleep eluded her again tonight like it had done so often lately. As much as she wanted to, she simply could not turn off her mind, could not stem the flow of her thoughts, which gravitated toward Remus and the time she'd spent with him twenty years in the past. The memories, so achingly bittersweet now, gripped her firmly and would not let her go.

Their first kiss under the star-strewn night sky…

Butterflies swooping in her stomach every time he smiled at her…

The warmth of his embrace melting her in the midst of the stinging cold snow…

Hermione didn't know how she had survived the last few weeks without him after spending the previous three months constantly by his side. She missed Remus so much. Like she'd done countless times since she'd returned to the present, she took the rose from her bedside table, the beautiful, magical rose that somehow looked as freshly picked and as gorgeous as it had the night Remus had plucked it from the Weasleys' garden. The only comfort she had was its scent, his scent. But that was not nearly enough.

Sitting together by the fireplace, his fingers interlacing with hers…

The hours that flew by while they studied together, and their stifled laughter in the quiet library whenever they got off track…

Their last night together in the boys' dormitory…

Hermione heaved a frustrated sigh and glanced at her alarm clock: 1:17 AM.

A few minutes later, having accepted that trying to find sleep tonight was futile, Hermione sat in the kitchen of her parents' home, idly submerging a teabag into a mug of steaming hot water and reading a book of poetry written by a man called Rumi.

"I knew you'd be up."

Hermione looked up from her book. Her mother stood at the entrance to the kitchen wearing a blue dressing gown and a tired but gentle smile.

"I'm sorry, Mum. I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's all right, honey," Mrs. Granger said, moving toward the counter to pour herself a glass of water. "Like I said, I expected you to be up. You never can sleep the night before school starts. Every year I find you awake, drinking tea or hot cocoa and poring over one of your new textbooks." She took a seat next to her daughter. "Which one is it this time?"

"It's not a book for school. It's a collection of poems."

"May I have a look?"

Hermione sipped her tea while her mother read the poem she'd been contemplating moments before, the poem from which the three words engraved on the necklace Remus had given her had been taken. Shortly upon returning to her parents' home the day after Harry's birthday, Hermione had done some research on the phrase and gone to a nearby bookshop to purchase Rumi's work.

"Ah," Mrs. Granger said when she reached the lines Hermione had highlighted. She put the book down on the table and studied her daughter closely with her keen brown eyes. "When are you going to tell me about him?"

"About who?"

"About the boy who gave you that necklace you're always wearing and that rose you keep on your nightstand. The boy you're in love with."

"How did you know I'm…?"

Hermione trailed off, unable to bring herself to say the next two words. Not because they weren't true — they absolutely were — but because in some ways the realization that she was in love with Remus, and the vulnerability that came along with that realization, terrified her.

"I'm your mother. I know these things," Mrs. Granger replied with a warm smile. "So, who is he and when did this happen? I want to know all about this boy."

Hermione hesitated. She hadn't told anybody anything about her time traveling experience or her relationship with the younger Remus. She hadn't even told Ginny, whom she usually confided in when it came to boys. She just couldn't. It was all too incredible, too personal, and she didn't know how to even begin to explain everything that had happened to her in the past. She was also afraid of what her friends might think.

But keeping all this to herself had been slowly wearing on Hermione to the point that she felt like she needed to talk to someone about Remus right now, however vaguely, or she might explode.

"His name is Remus," she said, certain that she'd never mentioned his first name to her mother before. She didn't want her parents to know she was in love with Lupin, the man she'd told them about in the past, the one who had been her professor in third year and who also just happened to be a werewolf. They would undoubtedly disapprove of that. "He's very smart and brave and good at magic, a powerful wizard, and a real gentleman, too, sweet and thoughtful, and also very handsome and funny in a quiet sort of way."

"He sounds wonderful."

"He is."

"Then why do you look so sad, dear? Is it because you miss him? But you'll see him tomorrow at school, won't you?"

"I'm not entirely sure I will, Mum. I don't know whether he'll be returning to Hogwarts, and if he does…I don't know what will happen. I don't even know if he has feelings for me anymore."

"He obviously likes you very much if he's giving you flowers and jewelry."

Hermione shook her head. "I don't know, Mum. Things are different now. Even if he did…we couldn't…"

"Why not?"

"Because…it's complicated."

"Relationships tend to be that way," Mrs. Granger sighed. "But I think you should have a talk with this Remus as soon as you can, figure out where you stand."

Hermione wished it was that simple. She wished she could just talk to Remus about their relationship, but according to his Obliviated memory they'd never had a relationship. To him, she was only a former student and a friend of Harry's. He had no idea he had once asked her out, that he had once had feelings for her, and it wasn't like she could just tell him.

So what was she to do? She didn't know, which was why she hadn't even considered seeking him out since returning to the present. In truth, she was a bit terrified of seeing him again for the first time since their romance in the past, afraid of how she'd react. She didn't know how she should behave around him, didn't know whether she could pretend like nothing had ever happened.

As Hermione returned to bed a short while later, she pondered one of her mother's questions: when did this happen? When exactly had her feelings for Remus grown so strong? When had her schoolgirl crush on the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher develop into the love she felt for him now? Had it ever been simply a crush?

Hermione thought back to her second year at Hogwarts. She and many of her classmates had been impressed by Professor Lockhart's charming smile, charisma, and supposed heroic adventures. That had only been a schoolgirl crush, superficial and evanescent. What she'd felt for Remus the next year had been distinct, differing also from the way she'd fancied Viktor Krum and Ronald Weasley in later years. Her feelings for Remus had been more subtle and harder to define, but the pull she felt toward him was very much present even then, and strong, strong enough for her to want to protect his secret.

A memory from her third year sprang to mind…

With difficulty, Hermione successfully managed to cram her Defense Against the Dark Arts book into her overstuffed bag. Her relief, however, was short-lived. Just as she was heaving her bag over her shoulder, a classmate accidentally knocked into her in his haste to exit the classroom. Her bag fell to the floor, bursting open, and out spilled some of her carefully arranged books. With an exasperated groan, she knelt down to pick up her things.

Everyone else had already gone, but Hermione could still hear the voices of Harry and Ron, who were lingering at their desks, speaking in low, excited tones. She glanced up at them. When Ron caught sight of her, his expression darkened. He nudged Harry toward the door and glared at her as they walked past, leaving her behind in the classroom, alone once again.

Hermione finished gathering her books and miserably began reorganizing the contents of her bag. She was close to tears, feeling overwhelmed by everything she'd been dealing with lately, the worst of which — even more awful than the constant stress of keeping up with her overloaded course schedule and ever growing mountain of homework — was this horrible rift that had developed between her and her two best friends.

"They'll come around."

Hermione started at the sound of the nearby voice. She spun around to find Lupin standing at his desk, packing up a stack of papers he'd apparently forgotten. She'd been so consumed by her troubles that she hadn't even noticed when he'd reentered the classroom. Her professor clasped his briefcase shut and looked up at her with his kind eyes.

"Harry and Ron will come around," he repeated.

"I don't know," Hermione said uncertainly. "They were angry at me before for getting the Firebolt confiscated, and now they're not talking to me because they think what happened to Scabbers is my fault."

"I'm sure you're not responsible for what happened to Scabbers, and you were right to tell McGonagall about the Firebolt. Harry's safety is far more important than a silly broomstick or Quidditch match."

Lupin stooped down to retrieve her quill, which had tumbled over toward his desk when her bag had fallen.

"They'll wise up, Hermione," he said, handing her back the quill. "Sooner rather than later, I reckon."

Hermione stared after Lupin as he left the room. She knew he was a werewolf. She had known for a long time, ever since she had written that essay for Snape, and she knew she should have probably informed somebody about him. But she hadn't. She hadn't told Dumbledore (who certainly wouldn't have knowingly employed at his school a werewolf as dangerous as described in the textbooks) about Lupin's secret even though she was well aware of the possible threat he posed to the safety of everyone at Hogwarts; yet, as a precaution, she'd told McGonagall about the new broom Harry had mysteriously received.

There was a clear inconsistency in her actions here. Why hadn't she divulged Lupin's secret to a single soul, not even to Harry or Ron? Why was she covering for him? Because she didn't want him to be fired. Regardless of what he became every full moon, he was a more than capable teacher, and she also believed him to be a good man. His comforting words to her just now supported that belief. She wouldn't reveal his secret because she trusted him and wanted to protect him. And because she didn't want to see him leave…

Remus had ended up leaving. It wasn't until the summer before her fifth year at Hogwarts that Hermione had met him again at Grimmauld Place thanks to the rise of the Order of the Phoenix, and for the subsequent few years she'd seen him but only on occasion. But that had been okay then because she hadn't yet become aware of the nature of her feelings for him. All she'd known was that she liked it whenever he was around.

Then, at Harry's birthday party last month, something had changed. She'd felt uneasy as she'd watched Remus leave and now she understood why. The war had ended, the Order disbanded, and she'd had no idea when she'd meet him again. Surely Remus would want to keep in touch with Harry, but what about her? If he didn't take the Defense Against the Dark Arts post at Hogwarts, when would she see him again?

And what if after their conversation at the Burrow he had decided to take the D.A.D.A. post? Come tomorrow he would be her teacher once more and she his student, and she knew nothing romantic could happen between them then. She was sure there were rules against that sort of thing. But she supposed simply being around him at Hogwarts was better than not seeing him it all, wasn't it?

Hermione realized now that the rose, being sent to Remus in the past, had been a real blessing. Not only had she finally been able to acknowledge her true feelings for him, she'd been able to act on them. She'd tried to resist at first, but it had been useless. She'd been too strongly drawn to Remus. She had always been drawn to Remus.

Hermione mused over the quote she'd highlighted in Rumi's text: Let yourself be silently drawn by the strange pull of what you really love. It will not lead you astray. She decided she would live by these words. She would continue to allow herself to be silently drawn by Remus, come of it what may.

After reaching this resolution, Hermione at last managed to find some sleep.

A/N: Thanks so much for your lovely reviews last chapter :)

Part two begins! I really hope you like what's to come, especially the parts from Remus's perspective since the rest of the story is as much about his journey to let himself "be silently drawn" as it is about Hermione's, if not more so.