Disclaimer: I like Remus, and I like Hermione, and I like the series and all, but I'm just as good not owning it. I have a pretty good life…without owning HP, and JKR probably has a pretty good one owning it. I'm not JKR…SURPRISE! I'm 13. She's not. I'm short. I'm pretty sure she is over five feet. I am not, on the other hand. I'm NOT JKR. Obviously.
Previously: Sirius escaped from Azkaban, leaving Remus in a rage, Meghan and Ashley quite overjoyed, and Sirius, well, out of Azkaban. Meghan wrote to Remus…He was in the process of receiving the letter.
Chapter Three: You Learn Something New, in which old friends are reunited.
Remus unfolded the thick, cream-colored parchment hesitantly. The lines of quickly-written text within hadn't even reached his brain when he dropped the letter.
"Meghan," he whispered. "There is no bloody way." But even before he picked up the letter and read the characteristically Meghan words, he knew there had to be a way, because this was Meghan. From the ballpoint pen to the straightforward words.
He finished reading, reached for his own pen, and detailed his address on the back of the parchment. He signed it carefully. He looked over the meager communication, reading only his yes and his address. His right hand hovered over it, itching to fold it up and send it before he couldn't reach her anymore. He stopped himself with a resolute feeling in his head. Would he be taken in that easily? Would it be the simple work of a forgery to fool him? A similar owl to one very familiar, perhaps? He wasn't going to send it. It was too simple to be real. Would Meghan be back, just like that? Had she just now decided to spread the word? He wouldn't be taken in so quickly, he decided firmly.
Hermia hooted softly in confusion. He looked questioningly at the owl, pointing to the paper. She hooted again and nodded, clicking her beak. Remus knew owls told no sort of falsehoods—everyone knew they couldn't even speak. But he still didn't want to believe it. The owl stuck her leg out irritably, hooting a third time.
"Just like your mistress," Remus chided as he had often in the days before the rush of murders. Nonetheless, he attached the letter to the owl's leg. She winged off before he could say or do anything else. "Hermia's always so impatient," he murmured out of habit. Then it hit him like a ton of bricks.
Meghan was alive.
He'd immediately known no one could so closely imitate her confident writing style when he read the energetic letter. He'd known that she'd never handed out samples of her distinctive handwriting to anyone who might use it against her. He'd known that the only person who would know the writing style well enough to imitate it—Sirius—would never have stooped that low. As Death Eater as he was, he was still a Gryffindor by his mind, and he would confront people head-on, as he had shown by his past action. Remus flattered himself that he knew Sirius well enough to trust in that.
BREAK
Hermione Granger scaled the geometric dome. She met Harry Potter at the top. They sat in an awkward silence. For the first time, their cherished shield of silence was dysfunctional.
Hermione broke it first. "You think it's true?" she asked quietly. "You think your parents were actually murdered?"
"They were," Harry confirmed. "I see it sometimes, in my nightmares. A lot of green light, a woman's voice pleading for someone to leave me alone, and some crazy man laughing. I used to think it was the car crash, but the green light seemed out of place. I dunno. I trust him—Mr. Lupin. How about you?"
"I think I do. I mean, I've always been able to do these freaky things. It could be magic, I guess. I don't really know." She sighed and stared out at the sky. "I know my parents don't understand. Not at all."
"My aunt and uncle don't either," Harry confided, running a hand through his messy black hair. "I think they know, though, because it was my aunt's sister. So she would have known. They probably think I'm a freak because of it."
"My parents do anyway. They don't even know." Hermione didn't know what it was about Harry, but she couldn't stop talking about home in front of him.
Harry didn't know how she did it, but Hermione was silently persuading him to spill his home life's secrets. His stomach ached with hunger—his last meal had been two days ago—and his neck hurt from the time the night before that Uncle Vernon had throttled him. He had bruises from Dudley and his friends' latest beating, and he didn't feel that great. So he'd decided to see if the strange but nice playground girl—Hermione, he reminded himself—was there. He had to wait a while, but she showed up.
"I dreamed about my parents last night," Harry offered. "They were really nice people, and they had some really good friends. Only, one of them was called Serious. I couldn't figure it out. Who names a boy Serious?"
"Well, could it have been Sirius, for the Dog Star?" Hermione suggested. Harry looked at the precocious brunette, confused. "It's the brightest star in the sky," she explained.
"It might have been," Harry agreed. "Maybe I'll ask Mr. Lupin next time I see him. He probably knew him too, if he was my parents' friend." They sat in silence for a few more minutes.
"So," Hermione tried. "You're a wizard."
"You're a witch," he returned. "A good witch," he added a little shyly. "I think you're nice, Hermione." Hermione smiled bashfully.
"I think you're nice too, Harry," she said quietly. They smiled at each other, letting their emotion show for a rare moment in their lives.
"Can we be friends?" Hermione asked tentatively. After a minute, Harry nodded a little shyly. Hermione smiled again.
"I'd like that," Harry said.
"Friends?" Hermione asked again, offering her hand cautiously. Harry took it, and they shook for a brief moment. Hermione stared out to one side of the geometric dome. Harry stared at the other side.
"Can we meet here often?" Harry asked suddenly.
Hermione swung back to look at him. She thought about it. She wasn't going anywhere this summer, although her parents were. "Umm, well, sure. We can meet every day you'd like," she agreed. "I can make it pretty much any day."
"Oh. Good." He thought a minute. "Me too. As long as I don't make Uncle Vernon really mad. Or if I don't have to cook."
"You can cook?" she asked, intrigued. Harry nodded. "Can you teach me sometime? I'd really like to learn."
"Sure. I guess." They went back to staring at their respective areas. Harry interrupted the calm again. "You're good in math, aren't you?" he asked her.
"I don't know. I'm not so bad," she said modestly.
"Well, I mean, I'm not going to actually do it right, because then I'd be better than Dudley and that wouldn't be good. But I think it'd be good to know, you know. So, maybe you could help me this summer?"
"Of course. I'd love to help."
"And I'll teach you to cook."
"Thanks, Harry."
"Thank you, Hermione."
BREAK
Hermione's parents left for a month's holiday in Spain nearly two long weeks later.
They called a woman in her early thirties, Mr. Lupin's age, to baby-sit for Hermione while they were away. Her name was Katherine Bassett.
Miss Bassett had waist-length dark-brown hair and brown eyes that were always laughing. She was of average height and she wore a lot of bright colors and blue jeans. Hermione tiptoed carefully around the unknown. She still had to figure out how to act around the woman. She wasn't sure what was expected of her. She would tiptoe past the guestroom at six in the morning only to find the odd woman already in the kitchen fixing breakfast for the two of them. Miss Bassett was a very good cook.
Three days after Miss Bassett had come, Hermione screwed her courage to the sticking point and spoke up over a summer lunch of thick sandwiches.
"Miss Bassett?" she asked carefully when she had swallowed her mouthful of lunch. The woman looked up from the paper she had been reading.
"Call me Kate, Hermione," the woman invited for what must have been the tenth time that day. Hermione nodded meekly, obediently. Whatever she said, right?
"Miss Kate, I was just wondering," she began, but her next words stuck in her throat. Miss Kate looked at her expectantly.
"You were wondering?" she prompted. "Only say the word, and I am yours to command," she smiled, inviting Hermione to share her joke. The girl didn't laugh.
"Well, you know the park?" she asked. The woman nodded. "I usually go there every day and I see my, umm, my friend Harry. I was just wondering if we could, perhaps…" she trailed off.
"Go to the park after lunch?" Miss Kate finished. "Of course we can, Hermione. I would be thrilled to go to the park with you." Hermione beamed inwardly, applauding her rarely displayed courage. She liked Miss Kate. Miss Kate might even like her. She smiled a little bashfully at Miss Kate as the brunette woman took a bite of her sandwich.
At last! Kate thought. A display of emotion had come from the little stone-child. Her quiet smile lit up her whole face, and her green-hazel eyes shone. It was a pity she didn't smile more often. It looked positively adorable. Kate winked at her as she chewed her sandwich. Hermione tucked her head shyly. Kate rolled her eyes inwardly. Why was this girl so bloody shy? It was only a trip to the park, for God's sake!
Kate cleaned up the Grangers' kitchen. The Granger girl had tried to lend a hand, but Kate smiled, said that she'd take care of it, and sent Hermione scurrying off to put on her shoes so they could leave.
Pretty soon, Kate, in her emerald-green shirt, golden straw hat, and sunglasses was following a silent, shod Hermione down the path to the Little Whinging Residential Area Park.
They arrived with little fanfare. The ever-stoic Hermione looked more and more excited as they got closer. Her eyes lit as she noticed the boy on top of the geometric dome. His black hair was messy, and he simply watched the other visitors to the park.
"Your friend?" she asked, nodding toward the boy on the dome. Hermione nodded.
"May I?" she asked politely, pointing to the dome. Kate smiled, nodded, and sat on the park bench to watch her charge.
The brunette eight-year-old scaled the dome with practiced ease. Kate watched as she and the boy greeted each other. They demonstrated a sort of easy camaraderie that reminded Kate of a pair from her own earlier life.
Meghan Potter and Sirius Black!
Katherine Theresa Bassett, a Muggleborn, Hogwarts-educated witch and a special-clearance Unspeakable, had gone through Hogwarts with the Potters, Blacks, McKinnons, and company. She had been in the Marauders' year at the school, in Gryffindor. Sirius had been a class- and housemate, younger Meghan a housemate and lower-classman best friend. The two—Meghan and Sirius—had long failed to notice that they were almost exactly identical—at least inwardly, with their mannerisms and personalities themselves being very similar. They had finally figured it out during the summer of 1974, when Meghan was nearly sixteen and Sirius was seventeen, due to Sirius's personal crisis that brought them together. The two children—Hermione and her unnamed friend—seemed quite the same as Sirius and Meghan had been in the 1973-74 school year. Close enough friends for now, but not inseparable—yet, anyway.
Thinking about Meghan and Sirius led her to another raw, unhealed wound, nearly ranker than Sirius's betrayal and Meghan and her daughter's death. Remus Lupin. The friendly man had never known about the secret crush she'd had on him. Or she hoped so, at least. She'd taken care with that secret. Not even Meghan and Lily, her closest friends, knew about it. She'd never even let on about it to Remus.
Obviously, the love had been unrequited, for there had never been any acknowledgement of similar feelings from the object of the crush.
Remus had acknowledged her quietly in the halls, and in class. He had made certain to be courteous to her—as he was to everyone. But she'd never seen anything more in those expressive green-hazel eyes. All her hopes had reached far too quickly for the sky, and so they had crashed painfully to the ground in her seventh year. She had rarely dated anyone since. She probably wouldn't ever find someone else right for her. She still loved him, with all her heart.
BREAK
A knock on his door startled Remus Lupin out of his stupor. He sat straight up, suddenly enveloped by a feeling of excitement.
Meghan Black tapped her foot on the pavement. She had purposely come with her hair black and natural, not brown as Louise Campbell. If I want to do it, I should do it right. She knocked again. Suppose he doesn't believe me? What then? Do I go out looking for my love myself? I can't leave him out there, all alone. She raised her hand again and knocked on Remus's nose.
"Didn't realize you'd opened the door. It's me. Meghan Black. Remus Lupin, I presume?"
"Would you please just come in so we can talk? I hope none of the neighbors are wizards."
"Nope, just rumormongers. Interfering busybodies like most people. We're probably a couple in their minds." Remus looked at the matter-of-fact woman, one eyebrow raised. "Not my idea. You're nice, Remus, but you're not my type. There's only one person who is anymore." The same one who was before, she thought but didn't say.
They walked into the kitchen, where they had a seat. Meghan surveyed the room.
"Well, Remus, I know you love your kitchen and all," she said wryly, "but I'm sure there's somewhere you're more comfortable. You'll need to be comfortable when I tell you my news."
Remus thought about that for a moment. "Well," he said after a while, "there is this kids' playground-park sort of thing" that your godson and nephew frequents "that I'd been visiting daily before I got your letter," he suggested.
"A playground?" she asked, nonplussed. "Oh well," she shrugged when he nodded. "To each his—or her—own, I suppose," she said dubiously.
The two adults, who were in their early thirties, set off for the Muggle children's playground in Little Whinging. Remus was apprehensive. Not just because of his friend's news, but also Harry's characteristic appearance at the park.
Meghan, for her part, felt mildly foolish. She, a grown woman, her daughter at home with her grandparents, was heading for a kid's playground. She felt five years old again, begging to be allowed to play Quidditch with the boys.
Remus expertly led the way, thinking his own quiet thoughts as he navigated through the small-town pavement. Meghan followed, fumbling slightly to turn the right way and knowing she really out to make more of an effort to keep up.
"So, Remus, what were you doing at a Muggle playground?" Meghan asked curiously with a toss of her long, straight black hair. Remus shrugged.
"Well, after the Department of Mysteries fired me—" he began.
"You were fired? In the name of God and Merlin, why?" Meghan interrupted.
"Don't ask me. They didn't say anything. I was just, well, uh, fired. Sometime last year. Mid-September, I think. Oh well. I started to go to the park to think about things. Kind of like a second Shrieking Shack."
Meghan nodded, understanding. The Shack had been the Marauders' place during Hogwarts, and it was special to Remus in particular, because he had always gone there, monthly, for his werewolf transformations. "Anybody we know living in Little Whinging?" she asked, changing the subject. "Meet anyone interesting?"
"Maybe so," he said evasively. "Maybe so." Meghan raised her eyebrows. Remus shook his head. "You're altogether too curious, Meghan."
"My job," she replied. "You haven't seen, well, Padfoot around anywhere, have you?" she asked innocently. Remus looked at her incredulously. Why the hell did she want to know that? He'd think she'd be running for the hills now that he was out. He was the worst person alive, at least to Remus.
"No. One would think he'd be keeping a low profile," he said icily. Meghan, oddly enough, looked perfectly crestfallen. "What is wrong with you, woman?" he demanded.
"Nothing!" she exclaimed. "What's wrong with me? I'm not allowed to miss my husband, Remus Lupin? Don't you think you would miss Kate if you two had figured out how much you liked each other sooner?"
"Shut up! I do not like Kate!" Meghan gave him a Look. "Alright, fine. She was pretty. And smart. And she was nice. So maybe I like her. Oh well. Here we are."
Blindly arguing with his raven-haired friend, the brown-haired wizard backed into the park and toward the bench. He was so busy talking and not turning around that Meghan didn't notice there was someone already on the bench until they were less than ten feet away.
Remus continued to back up, oblivious as he protested something or other that she had just said. Meghan pointed warningly at the bench. But Remus had already sat down, right next to the woman already sitting there.
It was Kate Bassett, Remus's schoolboy crush and Meghan's best friend.
Her warm brown eyes widened and turned cold in her incredulity as she jumped back. "Oh my God. Not Remus Lupin?" she asked. She looked almost frightened—like she didn't have very good memories of the man.
"Kate?" he wondered aloud. Oh my God! Remus was thinking. I didn't know she lived here in Little Whinging! "Long time no see," he tried to recover. She was still watching him carefully, almost fearfully.
"Longer time no see," Meghan joked. "I think." She walked up to the duo. "Room for a long-dead Auror on this bench? There's nowhere else to sit. Besides the ground."
Kate was shocked. Remus? Forget him—Meghan? Her closest friend, who had been presumed dead for seven years? Not to mention that they boy sitting with Hermione was starting to look very familiar.
"Meghan?" she whispered. The black-haired woman grinned and nodded casually. "What the hell are you doing alive?" she demanded, careful to keep her voice low enough that none of the children would hear her.
"Never died. Say, is this a rendezvous for old Hogwarts friends? Or do all Little Whinging's magical people just gravitate toward the little kids' park? First Remus, now you. You have a kid? An alter ego, perhaps? What's with you two and the park?"
Kate was still stuck on sentence one. "You never died? Then what was with the big state funeral and the Death Eater duel, hmm? Your death was plastered all over the Daily Prophet for—"
"Two days in a row, I know," Meghan said with a crooked smile. "Narcissa Malfoy always was good at poker faces, remember?"
"Narcissa?" Kate asked. "You dueled Narcissa Black Malfoy and you lost?" she screeched. "That's impossible. We are talking about the same Narcissa here, right? Just to make sure?"
"Yes. Look, I'd spent the whole day crying my eyes out over James and Lily and Harry, Kate dear. I wasn't exactly up to par, with my reflexes dulled like that. It was bad. I did hold my own for most of it, though," she said, halfway satisfied with her disappointing performance. "Now. Back to my other question. What are you doing at the park, Katherine?"
"Oh, I'm babysitting this girl named Hermione Granger. She wanted to come meet her friend. They're up there, right on top of the—"
"Geometrical dome. They show up there every single day. At least, she did before the school year ended. They're both magical, and the girl's as quiet as a mouse." Remus rolled his eyes.
"Hermione's magical? The rest I know. I've been babysitting for three days, and today, we actually had some form of a conversation. About coming to the park to see this friend. And I just realized I don't even know this kid's bleeding name—"
"It's Harry," Remus interrupted. "It's Harry, he's kind of short with black hair and green eyes, he's also very quiet, and in case you were wondering about his last name—"
"It's Potter." Kate was already on her feet, moving. Meghan was already at the dome. In a moment, the two women were scaling the dome. Some of the children were openly pointing and laughing at the thirty-year-old women climbing the playground equipment.
Meghan pulled young Harry into a precarious but tight hug. Kate was watching him, her eyes open to their full extent and her eyebrows raised as she watched her friend's nephew. She sat carefully on the metal next to her charge.
"Do you, er, know Mr. Lupin?" Hermione asked tentatively. Kate looked at her oddly. "I—I'm sorry. Children should be seen and not heard." She looked at the ground, strangely embarrassed that she had asked a question.
"No, Hermione, that's not it," Kate contradicted the timid girl. "I just didn't know you knew Remus. I went to school with him and Meghan right there."
Harry nearly fell off the dome. "Meghan?" he murmured. "Not really, is it?" He got another look at her face and blanched. "I dreamed about you and someone named Sirius. And my mum and dad."
Meghan smiled at her nephew. "We were all teasing your dad, right?" Harry nodded. "We always did." She ran a hand through her thick black hair. "Why don't we all go down there so I can talk to Remus? And Kate too, of course." Hermione and Harry dropped quickly. Meghan followed suit, but Kate shook her head and climbed down carefully. It was no secret that Kate Bassett was afraid of heights.
When they were all grouped on or around the bench, Meghan spoke. "We know this place is safe, right?" She got a nod of confirmation from Remus. "Good. But I'm going to try to make it a story. Can you kids try to back it up with some questions and expressions?" Harry shrugged. Hermione nodded. "Thanks. Let's begin.
"Once upon a time—" Remus snickered. "Shut up, Remus. Once upon a time, a bad wizard named Voldemort decided he wanted to go around bullying people. He killed a lot of them. And he wanted to kill a lot more people. One of these people was named James. Another was his wife Lily, and a third was their son Harry." Harry's eyes clenched shut.
"Green light," he whispered. Hermione patted his shoulder awkwardly, trying to reassure him. He opened his eyes and smiled at her.
"So someone, some man with a long beard in charge of everyone who wanted to fight Voldemort, decided it would be best to hide them away with something called the Fidelius Charm," Meghan continued. "No one would be able to find the place unless the Secret-Keeper tells them where to find it.
"The Secret-Keeper was supposed to be Sirius Black."
"Did—?" Harry cleared his throat softly, suddenly finding it hard to speak. "Did he have black hair?"
"Yes. Yes, he did. Sirius was James's best friend and baby Harry's godfather. Lily was like the argumentative sister he had never had. Sirius was even married to baby Harry's aunt and going to be a dad. He loved the little family, so he was the perfect choice to keep their secret.
"But then they figured out that everyone expected him to be their Secret-Keeper. So he thought it'd be a good idea to trade Secret-Keepers—without telling anyone."
Kate's eyes were darting from Meghan, to Remus, to Harry. This could mean so much. Who had they switched to? Hadn't James and Lily and Sirius trusted them enough to tell them?
BREAK
A/N: ALmost a cliffy...SO CLose...and yet so far...
M: What's with the weird caps?
LP: emphasis...that's what caps are for dear.
M: Ah. You know the drill. LP is a hypocrite, but she wants to hear how awful her story is. Tell her and she'll be happy.
LP: As stupid as that sounds, it's the truth. I know it sucks, just prove it to me.
Luv,
LysPotter and Meghan