Author's Note:

Thank you again to:

smithback
ariah23

for your continued encouragement.

Ariah23: I agree poor Hermione, but she's a tough cookie ;) And it becomes clearer in this chapter what Molly meant. :)

I PINKY PROMISE next chapter will have Remus galore.

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. JK Rowling owns everything. She sells 250 million copies of her literature worldwide in 55 different languages. I sell cookies at a bake sale entirely in English.

Expect the Unexpected

The house had finally settled into a peaceful state just as the first colors of dawn crept over the horizon. Staring at the ceiling, Arthur listened intently for the gradual onset of silence and when he could hear no more of the hushed voices above, he rose to depart.

Knowing full well that at any moment the children could (and decidedly would) wake and see which direction he was headed, he snatched up his flat hat and hastily retreated out the back door toward the rolling Devon hills.

He knew that his presence would be an unwelcome one, but he was more than certain once he explained the situation, this order member in particular would be unable to say no.

Turning back to see that the house was fully beyond the distance of his vision, he took a deep breath, closed his eyes and disappeared with an audible pop.

Back at the Burrow, the remaining inhabitants began to stir. Slowly but surely, the baggy-eyed Weasleys and pajama clad Harry emerged from their short lived slumber. Watching the figurative living dead filter into the kitchen, Molly beckoned them all to the table where their usual breakfast for twenty, had grown into a feast fit for a small army.

Ginny frowned inwardly. She knew after observing her mother's actions the night before that Molly was still incredibly worried about not only Hermione's health, but the state of the rest of the children as well.

"Mum, I don't even have an appetite this morning." She complained, dropping into the seat next to Harry.

"Yeah, Mrs. Weasley, no offense, it's just with Hermione n' all…" Looking up apologetically, Harry frowned. George nodded in agreement.

Despite their protests Molly began filling everyone's plates. "Don't be ridiculous. Eat up. One sick child is bad enough." She shoveled a pile of eggs on to Harry's plate.

After looking at each other in defeat, the three slowly began picking at the food in front of them. As much as they didn't want to eat, they'd rather not be on the receiving end of Mrs. Weasley's incessant nagging until they did.

Smiling in triumph, Molly began up the stairs to Hermione's quarters with a small washcloth and vial. Opening the door, she found not only Hermione, who, by evidence of the steady rise and fall of her chest, was still deep in sleep, but Ron. Lying with his arms crossed on the bed in front of him, it was evident by the loud and almost defining snore that he too was in fact, asleep.

"Ronald Weasley!"

His head jerked up violently at the sudden intrusion from his slumber. Blinking a few times and adjusting to the light, he finally pulled into view the very cross and flushed face of his mother.

"I trust you slept here?" she continued hotly as she placed the cloth and bottle on the table beside the bed.

"Erm…ah…yeah mum. I was worried. I didn't want her to wake up alone you know?" He paused as he looked down, scratching his head at the still form of his best friend. "But she hasn't woken up." He added despairingly.

Molly's face softened a bit. "She's had a trying night Ronald. I wouldn't expect her to wake so soon. Now, downstairs with you. I trust not even a little scratch on Hermione will have dampened your appetite."

Ron glanced up guiltily at his mother. Giving Hermione a small kiss on her forehead, he lingered perhaps a bit longer than he should have before retreating out of the room.

Such a shame. Molly thought as she applied the cool cloth to the wound on Hermione's hip. She knew her son still had feelings for Hermione, but it was evident that the young witch simply didn't feel the same way. From what she observed, there were never any hard feelings between the two. In fact, it appeared that they had even become closer as friends after their short lived romance.

Shaking her head at her own wistful thoughts a series of soft moans broke her concentration.

"Hermione?"

She felt the young woman begin to shift slightly beneath her. First her small hands began to twitch, followed by movement in her feet. She watched as the young woman's actions progressed to violent, jerking motions and her cries jumped quickly into a crescendo.

Sensing the poor girl must be having a terrible nightmare of her ordeal, she shook her by the shoulders and called out. "Hermione! Hermione wake up!"

The beast had just reared back for its final strike. She knew her body was too weak to continue the struggle. It was over, both in her mind and undoubtedly within the mind of the blood thirsty werewolf. She closed her eyes and waited for the end.

"Hermione!"

She could hear the ghosts of the people she loved. The people they lost, calling for her from beyond the veil. Through the snarling and growling that filled her ears, she could almost make out who it was. Professor Dumbledore? Sirius?

"Hermione!"

Or was the one voice she secretly longed to hear. The one that made hear knees weak when she was only a girl. The one that pulled on her heart strings whenever it spoke her name. The one voice that could only belong to Rem-

"Hermione. Wake up!"

-Molly?

"Hermione!"

Molly! She wasn't dying! Molly! Molly!

"Molly!" Hermione cried out as her eyes shot open wide.

"Oh Hermione! Dear! Thank goodness you're awake!" Without thinking she pulled Hermione in a crushing embrace.

"Oof, ouch Mrs. Weasley, please. My hip is on fire!" She cried out hoarsely as she struggled out of the bear hug.

"Of course honey! Oh I'm so sorry! I am just so relieved that you are alright." Releasing her death grip on Hermione, Molly accioed a glass and filled it with water. "Here, drink. It's water, you sound a bit horse."

Gratefully accepting the liquid, she took a succession of tiny sips to alleviate the unnatural burn in her throat. When she had successfully quenched her thirst she pulled herself up and propped onto her elbows.

"How did you find me?"

Mrs. Weasley smiled. "You can thank Arthur and the boys for that. Ginny was a bit put out about not being able to help in the search as you can imagine."

Hermione grinned knowingly and turned her attention to the mirror on the dresser across the way. Shifting a bit higher in the bed, she nearly gasped aloud when she saw her appearance.

Although she had only been unconscious for a few hours, she hardly recognized her own face in the glass in front of her. She was considerably dirtier, with splotches of top soil covering her face and even some crusted blood over her left brow. Her hair hung limp and loose past her shoulders and her eyes harbored some very dark circles.

"Merlin I look worse than Neville after Double Potions!" She exclaimed not taking her eyes away from the girl in the mirror.

Chuckling softly, Molly stood and offered an arm to help her up from the bed and to the washroom. Careful as to not re-aggravate the wound on her hip, she waited until Hermione felt well enough to take some tentative steps before releasing her grip.

"Well as long as you're up, why don't you take a long shower and get yourself 'de-Neville-fied'. I'll be down in the kitchen with the others. I am sure they will be ecstatic to hear that you're up and about again."

Hermione nodded in agreement. She hadn't even thought about how concerned everyone must have been when she didn't return home for supper. She felt a slight pang of guilt as she thought about them all, searching around the house wondering where she could be. She didn't mean to worry them, it wasn't her fault that she was bitten by a-

"Mrs. Weasley?" Hermione called tentatively as the red headed woman exited the washroom.

"Yes?" She answered back, popping her head back into the room.

"I was...I mean…in the forest…well...I…"

"I know dear" was all Molly solemnly replied with. "They all do."

Great. Hermione thought. It's going to be a very eventful breakfast.

After she showered and cast a quick drying spell on her hair, Hermione slipped into her muggle sweats and loose white tee. She knew it wasn't the most attractive outfit in her armoire, but the wound on her hip was still rather tender and she didn't want anything rough or constricting to bother it.

Feeling the shooting pains of her injury with each step she made, it take considerably longer for her to make her way down each flight of stairs. Using this extra time to her advantage, Hermione braced herself for the onslaught of questions about her new condition.

When she reached the floor before turning the corner to the kitchen, she took a deep breath.

They're your friends Hermione. No. They're your family. They understand. You know what to expect.

After nodding her head curtly to assure herself she was completely ready for what lay ahead, she turned the corner only to find the exact opposite of what her personal pep talk had prepared her for. Stopping dead in her tracks, she locked her deep brown eyes with the icy blue ones looking up at her expectantly from the table.

"Pro-professor Lupin?"