"Legilimency," Hermione listened to Remus lecture, "is an obscure branch of magic, one that can be both helpful and extremely dangerous. It's an ability that can be used to discover lies and hidden truths about a person or event, but in a manner that inherently violates a person's right to privacy. For that reason amongst a few others we don't normally teach this particular magic at Hogwarts, only its theory and the theory of its defense, which we will be going over today. But first, what exactly is Legilimency?"
Hermione's hand shot into the air.
"It's the ability to magically penetrate the mind of another person. It's sometimes referred to as mind reading, but it's much more nuanced and complex than that. An accomplished Legilimens can delve into a person's mind, navigate through its many layers, extract thoughts, feelings, and memories, and interpret their findings accurately."
"Couldn't have said it better myself," Remus said and Hermione smiled to herself, pleased. "Very few witches and wizards are accomplished Legilimens — it requires an incredibly high level of skill — but those who are may use their ability for good or for bad like anything else. Dark wizards have utilized this power to mentally defeat their victims by learning their fears and weakness and using that information to influence them. Fortunately, there is a defense against Legilimency and that is—?"
"Occlumency, sir," Ginny answered before Hermione could, and then she stuck her tongue out at her teasingly.
With a slight chuckle at the face Ginny pulled, Remus said, "That's right. Occlumency is the defense of the mind against magical intrusion and influence. Now, how exactly do we seal our minds from external penetration? Any ideas? Neville?"
"Legilimency requires eye contact, so avoiding it would be the easiest defense, wouldn't it, Professor?" Neville said.
"Yes, eye contact is nearly always essential to Legilimency, so avoiding it would be a simple way to prevent someone from trespassing into our minds. However, avoiding eye contact isn't always possible, convenient, or entirely effective. How else might we protect our minds?"
"By clearing it of all thoughts and emotions," Hermione answered. "Give the Legilimens nothing to see, nothing to use against you."
"Precisely. Clearing your mind might seem like an easy task, but in the moment when you are under attack it's exactly those thoughts you wish not to be discovered that will likely flood your consciousness. To become proficient in Occlumency, discipline of the mind is critical. One must have great strength of will and a careful, absolute control over one's emotions and memories. So, everybody, let's try this right now. Let go of everything — all your wandering thoughts, feelings, everything — and clear your mind."
The room went very quiet as Hermione and her classmates attempted to empty their minds of all thought. A chair suddenly squeaked and somebody giggled. Silence once more.
"Everybody's mind clear?" Remus asked after a few moments.
There was a mixed response in which several students laughed at their failed attempts. Remus smiled.
"All right, for homework—"
"Wait, sir," said Dean. "Aren't we going to practice Occlumency on each other?"
"How would we do that? We don't know Legilimency," Ginny pointed out.
"You won't be tested on Occlumency in the practical portion of your N.E.W.T.s," Remus informed them. "You only need to know the theory for the written exam."
"Can we at least have a demonstration, Professor?" Dean suggested. "Can you and Hermione do it like in Defense Club?"
The entire class spoke up in eager support of the idea — everybody except for Hermione. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. If Remus were to look into her mind, he'd see everything. He'd know what had happened between them in the past and how strongly she felt for him now...
"Okay, all right," Remus said, quieting down the class. His gaze settled on Hermione whose heart began to pound away in utter panic. "Hermione, if you will."
"Um, Professor, I—"
"Don't worry, I won't really look into your mind," he assured her. "We'll just talk the class through what it would be like."
"Okay."
Hermione stood before Remus in the front of the classroom, her heart still beating anxiously.
"A Legilimens would look directly into their victim's eyes." Remus did to Hermione as he described to the class, his sage-green eyes locking with hers. "It would seem like their eyes were boring into you." Indeed, they did. "So to defend yourself you would look away as Hermione just did instinctively. But if you couldn't look away for whatever reason, what would you do, Hermione?"
She tentatively met his gaze again. "Clear my mind."
"And how would you do that?"
"I'd do my best to stay calm and to stop thinking and feeling. I'd try to shut down my emotions entirely."
"Go on, then. Clear your mind for us."
Hermione found it extremely hard not to think or feel anything when Remus was standing right before her and staring at her like that. What he'd said earlier about the things you wish most to stay hidden being precisely the things that came to the forefront of your mind in moments like this was absolutely true. All she could think of was all the romantic moments she'd shared with the younger Remus, all the times they'd kissed, their last night together in his dormitory, her longing for the Remus before her now, how much she wished he would just lay her on the teacher's desk beside them and snog her like he'd done in the past—
Merlin's beard, she needed to get a grip on herself. She needed to stop fantasizing about Remus while she was in class, especially when he was looking at her expectantly like he was right now.
Uncomfortably aware of him and all her classmates watching her, she did her best to suppress her memories and emotions. She thought she must have succeeded well enough in doing so when Remus spoke next.
"Note her blank, closed off expression," he said to the rest of the class, his eyes never leaving hers. "Now, Hermione, if a Legilimens attempted to probe further into your mind, if they wanted to force their way through memories you'd prefer them not to see, or influence your emotions or actions in undesirable ways, what would you do?"
"I would push them out by creating a mental barrier," she said, "a shield to keep them from delving any deeper into my mind."
Remus continued to look intently into her eyes, and she wondered if he really was trying to peek into her mind. She didn't know what it would feel like if he were to do so, if she would even feel it at all, so she had no idea if he was doing it or not. She kept her guard up just in case.
"Notice how her expression remained calm and closed as she responded to my question," Remus said to the class. "She did not lower her mental shields. She would not be an easy victim. Her mind has sharp defenses. Very good, Hermione."
He finally broke their eye contact and a relieved Hermione took her seat again, letting out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.
On their way to the Great Hall for lunch after class ended, Ginny gave her a little smirk. "You all right, Hermione? That looked intense."
"It was. Could you imagine if he had really done Legilimency on me?
Ginny's expression turned thoughtful. "Maybe you should have let him do it."
"What? No way. He'd find out everything—"
"Maybe that would be a good thing. Maybe it would initiate something between you two."
"No, I couldn't do that," Hermione said, thinking of the boggart-Remus. "Especially not in class in front of everyone like that. I don't know how he'd react."
"Well, you need to do something soon before that Vivienne woman gets her claws on him."
"What am I supposed to do? Throw myself at him?" she shot back in frustration.
"Maybe you should! Before she does — if she hasn't already." Hermione winced and Ginny immediately apologized. "I'm sorry, Hermione, but I just want you two to work out, and I'm afraid if you don't do something soon…"
That same fear had been dwelling within Hermione for the past two weeks, ever since she'd met Vivienne, but she didn't know what she could do to make Remus take notice of her, to make him acknowledge the feelings Dumbledore had believed he had for her. She was afraid she'd somehow missed her opportunity. Maybe there was nothing to acknowledge anymore.
When Remus entered the Room of Requirement with Hermione Friday evening, they found that the collection of books on the shelves lining the walls, which usually consisted only of texts on defensive magical theory, had expanded to include books on many other subjects for their reading pleasure. The extraordinary room had provided them their own personal library since they so often came in early for Defense Club like they did today or lingered afterward to read.
He and Hermione browsed through the new books and settled themselves on large, crimson cushions with their selections. A companionable silence fell between them as they began to read. At least, Hermione began to read. Remus had a book, but he was too busy stealing glances at the girl beside him to pay much attention to the words on the page he was opened to. He watched as she turned a page in her own book and smiled at something on the next one.
What was she thinking?
Ever since he'd lectured on Legilimency yesterday, Remus wondered what he would find if he were to look into Hermione's mind. He wanted to know everything. What she thought of him, for example. Or if she'd felt what he'd felt when she'd held his hand in her own after mending it in his office a couple weeks ago.
Hermione glanced up and caught him watching her.
"What are you reading?" he asked to cover up for his staring.
"Wizarding fairy tales, but I'm mostly just looking at the pictures." She flipped through the pages to show him the colorful illustrations. "They're very beautiful, aren't they?" She randomly landed on a page depicting the full moon shining brightly over a forest. Upon seeing his involuntary frown, she quickly apologized and turned to another page.
"It's all right, Hermione," he said, relaxing his face. "I've always thought the full moon was beautiful. I just don't get to appreciate it the way I used to. May I see?"
Remus took her book and flipped it back to the picture of the moon. It brought to mind a tale he'd heard in his youth.
"I remember when I was very young my mother told me a story about a boy who was terribly afraid of the dark. He would curl up in bed with a flashlight every night because that was the time when all the monsters would come out of hiding to prey on little kids like himself. But when his friend found out he was frightened of the dark, she told him there was no reason to fear the night so much because the moon would always be up in the sky, ready to make light of the dark. She told him that even though there was nothing but darkness sometimes, the unfailing moon would gradually appear in the succeeding nights, providing more and more light and protection over all the children in the world. Then they thought of the clever idea to camp outside when the moon was full and bottle up the moonbeams, so they could have light saved up to protect them from the monsters when the dark nights came again."
Remus hadn't thought about that story in ages and was surprised he'd told it now. He looked up at Hermione, who was watching him closely.
"That's a lovely story," she said.
Remus agreed, though for him the inaccuracy of the tale had long since overshadowed the positive meaning that could be derived from it. He'd learned in a harsh manner soon after his mother had told him the story that the full moon didn't protect, it incited and unleashed danger; and in reality, it was the night of the full moon and not the dark nights when the real monsters came out to prey. He knew that all too well because he was one of them now.
Students began to arrive for the Defense Club meeting a short while later. Joining the group who normally showed up each week was Nicholas, a very bright Ravenclaw boy but a second year. He was too young for the club, which was intended for fifth and seventh years only.
"But Professor Lupin," Nicholas pleaded when Remus told him this, "I want to join. I promise I won't be any trouble. I just want to learn and practice with you guys. Everyone's always talking about how fun it is."
"Oh, let him stay, Remus," Hermione said. "He can do what he can and then watch and learn from the others."
"Fine," he acquiesced. "You can stay."
"Yes!" cheered the boy.
Hermione smiled. "You can be in my group, Nicholas."
Later on, while his group of seventh years were practicing nonverbal spells on each other, Remus briefly stepped away from them to see how Hermione was doing with the fifth years she was in charge of. Like always, he was impressed by how well they were getting on and thought that Hermione would make a great teacher with her extensive knowledge and patience and skill. He watched as she went over to the struggling Nicholas to help him with his Stunning Spell and noticed the Ravenclaw had curly brown hair very similar to hers. The two of them looked like they could be related.
And then a picture developed in his mind of Hermione gently admonishing her young, bushy-haired son for eating one of the Christmas cookies they'd baked for the Weasleys. She then made a useless attempt to tame his unruly hair and called out to her husband, telling him to hurry up getting dressed or they'd be late for dinner at the Burrow. Remus imagined her husband coming into the room — a husband that looked an awful lot like himself — and her beaming at the sight of him in the new sweater she'd given him. And like she'd done at the Burrow on Christmas Eve, she gave him a sweet kiss on the cheek before he pulled her into a proper kiss that made their son crinkle his nose and tell them to get a room—
Merlin's beard, where did that come from? Remus hurried away from Hermione and Nicholas. He needed to get a grip on himself and rein in his imagination. A werewolf did not belong in that scene he'd just envisioned anyway. He did his best to fight off the bitterness that came along with that realization as he returned to the seventh years to watch them practice.
After the Defense Club meeting was over and only Hermione remained in the Room of Requirement with him, helping him tidy it up a bit, he asked her, "Have you ever thought about becoming a teacher?"
"Yes, I have, actually. But I think I'd rather go into the Ministry of Magic now that Kingsley's in charge and is making the changes it's needed for too long. I want to work in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and fight for the rights of house-elves and werewolves."
"So you're going to continue the work you began with S.P.E.W.?"
She looked at him in surprise. "You remember that?"
"Of course I do. The Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare — you spoke so passionately about the cause when you first told me about it. Not many people your age think about those types of issues, much less actually do something about it."
"I really hope I can do something about it. I hope I can make a difference, however small it may be."
"I have no doubt you will."
She smiled.
"I suppose we should go," he said after they'd lingered by the door for a bit too long.
"Remus, wait," Hermione said hurriedly, taking hold of his arm to keep him from leaving. "Can — can you stay a minute?"
His hair stood on end when her hand lightly ran down his arm as she let him go. A similar sensation to when she'd caressed his palm after healing his cut — didn't she realize how that kind of touch could affect a man? But she didn't seem to notice she'd had any effect on him. She looked too preoccupied. He saw a struggle in her eyes.
"Is something wrong?" he asked.
"No. I just wanted…" She trailed off, biting her lip and looking uncertain, and as she subtly shifted her weight forward, Remus realized she was standing too close to him. He should move away, step back. But his muscles didn't seem to want to respond. "Remus, I—"
They both started when they heard the door to the Room of Requirement swing open and Hermione swiftly stepped away from him as McGonagall came into the room. The headmistress looked distractedly between the pair of them.
"Good, you're still here, Miss Granger," she said in a rather odd voice. "I — I need to speak with you. Remus, you should hear this as well."
He noted her unusually pale complexion. "Is everything all right?"
"You should take a seat," she said in that odd voice, conjuring up a couple of chairs for them. He and Hermione exchanged a curious look before doing as she told them. Only after they were seated did McGonagall say, "It's about Mr. Potter."
"Harry?" Worry crossed Hermione's features. "Has — has something happened to him, Professor?"
"Yes, I'm afraid so," the headmistress replied heavily, glancing between Hermione and him with red-tinged eyes. "Mr. Potter went on a mission for the Auror Department earlier today and — and something went wrong. He and a fellow Auror were ambushed by a band of wanted wizards."
Hermione gasped beside him, her hand shooting to her mouth, while Remus froze, his heart speeding up as his gaze remained fixed on McGonagall, waiting impatiently for her to go on.
"One of them was a Death Eater who had eluded capture since the war, and he hit Mr. Potter in the chest with an unknown spell that knocked him unconscious. Mr. Potter is at St. Mungo's now, but he's — he's unresponsive, in a magical comatose-like state. The Healers say he's in very critical condition—"
"But — but he'll be all right, won't he?" Hermione asked in a high, shaky voice. "He'll wake up and — and he'll be fine?"
McGonagall's lip quivered. "His condition is steadily deteriorating."
"No," Hermione whispered.
A strange ringing filled Remus's ears.
McGonagall continued, every word appearing to cause her pain. "The Healers fear there's nothing they can do."
Hermione covered her mouth with her hands, muffling the sound she made, something between a choked gasp and a strangled cry, and Remus felt like he was in the middle of a nightmare. This had to be a dream. It couldn't be true, this couldn't really be happening…
"Minerva—?"
Unaware of when he'd leapt out of his seat, Remus was gripping McGonagall's arms now and wildly searching her eyes, willing her to tell them something more, anything that would give them some sliver of hope for Harry. But she shook her head slightly, a tear dropping down the lines of her weary face, and his blood ran cold.