XVIII
If I wake up crying
She was lost in some dense wilderness. It took her several moments to realize with a start that this was the Forbidden Forest. She turned, looking around at the darkened trees, her heart beating loud and fast in her ears. The air felt thick and heavy, making it difficult to breathe.
Suddenly a noise pierced her consciousness, reverberating through the trees of the forest. She listened to the long, drawn out howl. It was raging, desolate, and desperate.
Hermione followed it.
She took off at a run, tracing the noise as it continued. The beast didn't stop howling and she didn't stop running.
But the air was growing heavier, thicker. She could feel her lungs and chest being constricted as she tried, with great, gasping breaths, to get enough air. The beast's howl became tortured, changing in pitch to something lower and more desperate.
Tears were blurring her eyes, streaming down her cheeks and burning her skin. The air began to burn too. Everything began to burn and she felt her bones shift and break and reform anew. She was screaming and he was howling. She had to find him.
She continued running, and soon the sound of her heartbeat was joined by another. She could hear the rapid thrum of his own heart; she could sense his chest rise and fall with each inhale. She had to find him.
But she couldn't breathe at all anymore and everything was burning and now she was howling too. She collapsed to the ground. He was close, his terrible howling louder than ever. He was so close but she couldn't find him. She clawed at the thick air with abandon. She could feel him missing from her.
Hermione jumped.
Her chest was heaving and tears were stinging her eyes. Bolting upright in bed, she searched her surroundings, finding that she was not the Forbidden Forest, but somewhere else entirely.
She was in bed, in her room at Snape's Estate. Ginny's bed was across the room, empty and rumpled from the girl's sleep. Sunlight streamed through the windows. The scent of bacon wafted under the closed door and towards Hermione.
Hermione hugged her arms around herself, calming her heartbeat and slowing her breathing. She'd never been the type to get nightmares; it was very strange whenever she did happen to have one.
After several minutes Hermione got out of bed, fetching a t-shirt and some ratty lounge pants from her trunk and putting them on. She didn't bother to try and fix her haphazardly disheveled braid, deciding that breakfast and tea must come first.
Downstairs, many of Hermione's housemates were already in the dining room eating breakfast. With a mug of tea in her hand, she sat down between Ginny and Fred – or was it George? She couldn't differentiate this early in the morning – and allowed Ginny to pass her a plate with a large portion of eggs and sausage. Draco walked into the room a few seconds after her, looking more tired and less put-together than she'd ever seen him. It was almost comical.
"Rough morning?" Harry asked, eyeing her across the table with a look of sympathy. Sirius and Remus sat beside him, both watching her.
"Mmm," she grumbled, sipping her tea.
"I'd say so," Ginny answered, "she was talking like a maniac in her sleep last night."
"I was?" Hermione whipped her head around to face Ginny, who wore a mischievous and sly grin.
"Oh yes," Ginny chuckled, returning to her plate. A part of Hermione was curious about what she'd said, while another part was very glad Ginny wasn't disclosing it in front of everyone else in the room. At the far end of the table Draco arched an eyebrow at her. She scowled at him before turning back to her breakfast.
"Moony used to talk in his sleep," Sirius said, glancing at Remus beside him. He said it with an air of nonchalance, but something in his tone sounded more mischievous than Ginny.
"That I did," Remus conceded, meeting Hermione's eyes. For one strange moment she was reminded of her dream, and she was lost in the Forbidden Forest, desperately searching for the source of that haunting howl.
Just then the door to the dining room opened, hitting the wall behind it with a thump and revealing none other than Professor Snape.
"Don't worry, Black" Snape drawled bitingly, "I'm not here to share your morning tea with you."
Hermione looked across the table and saw that Sirius was openly glaring. Harry frowned from his place beside his godfather.
"I'm only here to deliver this," Snape pulled a stack of paper out of his robes and dropped it on the table near Ron, "and to impress a few rules upon the… children." He finished his sentence with a pointed look at Sirius. Hermione guessed that the only reason Sirius hadn't jumped up and hexed Snape yet was because Remus was gripping his arm tightly in warning.
"Rules?" Ron asked, looking almost scandalized.
"Yes, Weasley, there are rules here," Snape murmured. He stepped closer to the long table, leaning over it and scanning the room with a menacing glare. "The wards around the Estate take up an acre total. None of you are allowed to venture past them, even if you find a way around my barriers, which you won't. You are permitted in the gardens and the greenhouse out back, but beware of the property lines. No going in the attic, no going in my potions lab, and no snooping around."
When Snape finished speaking he quickly turned and left the room. Everyone else in the room was displeased with the man's strict rules, but Hermione was beaming with excitement. Her mind was racing at the mention that he had a potions lab here. Would he ever let her use it to continue her research?
Ron interrupted her thoughts with an outraged exclamation. "He's locked us in here?"
"They're wards, Ronald," she said by way of explanation, "Wards require barriers of some sort."
"I don't like it," Ron's tone was suspicious now, his eyes drifting to Draco.
"It's not my fault, Weasley," Draco responded, "he may be my Godfather, but that doesn't mean I helped him set up the fucking wards."
"He's your Godfather?" Fred asked, shocked.
"That's right terrible luck, Malfoy," George commented.
"I almost feel sorry for you," Fred continued.
Draco arched a brow at them.
"Fuck."
Hermione's eyes darted to Ron, preparing to chide him for his crude language, but she froze when she saw what he was looking at.
The stack of paper that Snape had dropped on the table was today's copy of the Daily Prophet. Ron was looking down at it slack-jawed. Ginny leaned over his shoulder, eyes scanning the page, her mouth falling open as well.
"What is it?" Harry asked, sitting up straighter and trying to get a look from across the table.
Ginny looked up from the newspaper, glancing between Hermione, Harry, and Ron with an expression that was quickly becoming amused. Hermione was really getting nervous now. "Let me see it," she said, reaching across and swiping the copy of the Prophet out from under them.
All eyes were on her as she inspected it.
Just below the fold on the front page was a large picture of Hermione wearing her graduation robes, happily embracing Harry, who was also clothed in his graduation clothes. Ron stood nearby in the background. The headline of the article, in bold, read,
HERMIONE GRANGER'S DESTRUCTIVE LOVE TRIANGLE
"Oh my god," Hermione breathed, dropping the paper on the table.
"What is it?" Harry leaned forward, finally getting a look at the article and blanching. Beside him, Remus and Sirius wore equal expressions of surprise. Tonks, who had just entered the room, let out a quiet laugh at the sight of it before sitting down.
"I guess since no one else wants to actually read it…" Tonks murmured, picking up the paper and beginning to read aloud.
"Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, has had a wild history of past relationships, only topped by his best friend, the brains of the group, Hermione Granger. This past Thursday, at the annual Hogwarts graduation ceremony, Daily Prophet reporters saw first hand evidence of the Trio's tangled history of lovers and the wreckage it has caused in their friendship."
"Oh my god," Hermione intoned, letting her head fall into her hands.
"Granger (18) has oscillated between Potter (17) and Weasley (18) for the majority of their time spent at Hogwarts, pausing for a brief, passionate love affair when she was fifteen with Bulgarian Quidditch Legend, Viktor Krum, who was eighteen at the time."
Hermione groaned. Fred, George, and Ginny were all guffawing with delighted laughter.
"According to an inside source at Hogwarts, throughout her fifth, sixth, and seventh years, Granger carried out secret relationships with both Potter and Weasley, pitting the best friends against each other and destroying years of friendship, not to mention the boys' relationships with their own girlfriends, Ginny Weasley and Lavender Brown respectively.
"At Hogwarts Graduation this past Thursday, Potter embraced Granger with all the looks of a young couple in love, Weasley looking on with a jealous and lovesick expression-"
"Can you stop?" Ron asked, a sour frown on his face. Hermione smiled at him and apologetically.
Tonks put down the paper. "Well now we know it's not just the Ministry that's gone to the dogs."
"That was awful," Harry murmured, "it wasn't even halfway up to their usual standards of reporting."
"Merlin," Sirius mused, "you three have a more legendary romantic reputation than even I did at Hogwarts."
Just then Mr. Weasley entered the room, a mug in his hand and a cheerful smile on his face. "Oh is that the Prophet? Severus said he'd drop it off." Mr. Weasley picked up the paper, looking it over before quickly placing it back down on the table. "I find myself suddenly not inclined to read the Prophet anymore," he mumbled, leaving the room.
Hermione met Remus' eyes across the table. Despite trying to give her a look of sympathy, she could see the amusement just behind his eyes. "It's not funny," she told him pointedly.
"C'mon, Hermione," Ginny interjected, "you have to admit that it's a little funny."
"Yeah," Fred agreed, "why would they think you'd ever be in love with our git of a brother?"
Ron elbowed Fred in the side.
"Hey, at least they didn't figure out what's actually been going on," Ginny mumbled.
Hermione huffed, knowing that Ginny was referring to her Lycanthropy and the attacks by Lucius Malfoy. When she looked up at Remus again he wore a downcast expression.
"And what exactly has been going on lately?" Draco asked, looking around the table at the various solemn expressions.
"You should know, Malfoy," Ron piped up, his tone suddenly quite spiteful, "your father's the one that caused it."
Draco furrowed his brow, glancing at Hermione and Ginny. "Why would they write about my father attacking them in the Prophet?"
"That's exactly it: they wouldn't," Hermione said shortly, standing up from the table and walking briskly from the room. Draco was getting too close to the true secret of what happened that night in the Forbidden Forest. If the others in this house weren't careful he would soon find out that Hermione hadn't come out of the attack completely unscathed.
Hermione ended up spending the next part of her morning perusing the library, excited to explore all the books and to clear her mind since that incident with the Daily Prophet. However, before she could get very far into her exploration, Ginny arrived, informing Hermione that Mrs. Weasley wanted the girls to help as they began going through the house and cleaning up.
Mrs. Weasley instructed most of the boys to get to work on the inside of the house, cleaning bathrooms, spare bedrooms, and the entry hall. Meanwhile, Mrs. Weasley, Hermione, and Ginny were to venture outside to the gardens.
"Wow," Ginny exhaled, stepping out the back door of the house and into the sunlight. Mrs. Weasley followed, and then Hermione.
The gardens were beautiful up close. She had only just gotten a peek of them from inside the house earlier that day, but they were truly amazing now that she was actually standing within them.
A murky pond dominated most of the southern edge of the garden, a large, hanging willow tree shading half of it. On the opposite side of the willow tree was where the garden began. There were plenty of spaces for various flowerbeds and shrubs, but most had withered and died long ago. Still, it left an impression of the great beauty it once contained.
The rose garden was the really impressive part. There was a large bed of red roses, springing up from the ground as if they were in full bloom. Hermione found this quite confusing, as all the other plants were dead and gone. Why had the roses survived?
Near the house, across from the rose garden, was the greenhouse. It also left the impression of a sort of annihilated beauty; dilapidated but with beautiful ferns, ivy, and shrubs still living inside and outside. Hermione found herself very inclined to venture into the greenhouse and see what it was like on the inside. Some part of her was certain that it would be even more beautiful if one was standing inside it, the sun streaming through the glass panes of the ceiling and walls, overgrown plants all around.
"Well," Mrs. Weasley sighed, placing her hands on her hips and staring out at the gardens, "it looks like we've got our work cut out for us."
Hermione, Ginny, and Mrs. Weasley spent most of the day working in the gardens, cleaning the place up and dealing with a gnome infestation near the pond. By about four o'clock, Hermione and Ginny were sent back inside with a bit of a suntan and an incumbent need to wash off all the dirt.
After bathing, Hermione decided that it was high time she found Professor Snape and asked him if he would help her continue the Wolfsbane research. As luck would have it, she ran into Snape on her way upstairs. The conversation was short and surprisingly painless. She asked him about the potions lab. He informed her that it was on the second floor, where he was staying. He wanted to be left alone and she promised she'd leave him alone if he allowed her to start working in his lab the following day. He agreed, stalking off to his room and leaving Hermione with a triumphant grin on her face.
As it grew later in the afternoon, Hermione found herself approached by none other than Remus while she was looking through the books in the library. She wasn't facing him when he entered the library, but she knew beyond a doubt that it was Remus because of the burst of tranquility she suddenly felt.
"Hello, Hermione," he greeted her, entering the library and looking around.
"Hi," she replied, feeling a sudden onset of shyness.
He was at her side now, looking at the bookshelves in a sort of pleased curiosity that she knew all too well. "Haven't seen you all day," he commented, eyes still roving over the books.
"Mrs. Weasley had Ginny and me work on the gardens with her." She said, "it's really nice out there. Have you seen it?"
He took his eyes off the books and looked down at her, "there's a view from my window, but I haven't been out yet. I was helping the others clean some bedrooms."
"Do you want me to show you?" she perked up. Sunset would be here any minute. They only had a short while until the gardens wouldn't be very visible anymore.
He considered the offer for a moment, and then nodded.
Hermione led him out to the gardens, grinning at his appreciative expression when they stepped outside. They began to walk toward the pond at the other end, the sun lowering in the sky behind them.
"Remus?" She gave him a sidelong glance as they walked, feeling her heart thump just a little faster at the realization that they were alone together and that she wasn't his student anymore.
"Hmm?" he looked at her.
"What are we going to do for the full moon?"
They were at the pond now. She stopped beside him, looking down at the tadpoles swimming at the surface of the murky water. "Albus said we could use the attic. It's been heavily reinforced with both wards and- well, we can reinforce it with furniture as well." A twisted look crossed his face as he said this.
Hermione nodded, swallowing a lump in her throat. "That sounds like it'll work."
"Sirius offered to join us- as Padfoot, that is. Do you mind?" He was watching her closely.
She smiled. "Not at all. I think that would be nice, actually."
"It's better when he's there," he mumbled, watching the swaying branches of the willow tree. She wondered if he was imagining the Whomping Willow.
They stood there in silence for a few moments before he spoke again. "How did it go with your parents yesterday?"
Hermione inhaled deeply.
He quickly amended, "It's alright if you don't want to talk about it."
"No," she shook her head, "I do. It's good to talk about things like this." He nodded and she continued, "they know that I'm trying to hide the severity the war from them, and that I'm keeping secrets. My mum kept telling me that I was only isolating them by not speaking candidly." Hermione frowned at the ground, digging the toe of her shoe into the dirt. "It felt awful not being able to tell them the truth, but I- I really couldn't do it. They'd be terrified and… angry and… I couldn't do it."
Remus put his hands in his pockets, and she could almost feel the guilt resurface within him. "Your parents seemed like wonderful people," he finally said, surprising her.
"They are."
"I'm sorry you can't be with them."
"It's okay."
Silence descended upon them as the sun began to set into the horizon. Eventually, Hermione suggested that they look at the greenhouse. He agreed, falling into stride beside her.
The inside of the greenhouse had turned out to be very beautiful, especially after Hermione cleaned all the panes of glass and swept the floor. She watched Remus as he looked around the interior. He grinned, something reverent in the glint in his eye. "I like it here," he said.
The sun was setting deeper in the sky. Steams of orange and yellow mingled as they shone through the glass panes of the greenhouse. Hermione decided right then and there to do something very bold.
She turned to face him, inhaling deeply before she spoke. "I'm no longer your student."
He nodded slowly, staring off into the brightly colored horizon through the windows.
She didn't know quite what to say next, surprised by his calm reaction, so she settled on saying something she probably shouldn't have. "I had a dream about you last night."
"Oh?" he smiled, amusement written in the curve of his lips.
"Well, it was sort of about you… but… never mind." She was cursing her own awkwardness. Why was he making this so difficult for her?
He took a long, deep breath before turning around and inspecting the house through the panes of the greenhouse. Once he was finished with this inspection, he turned to face her. "I know what you want, Hermione," he said, quite suddenly, "and I think you need to consider the fact that things like this-" he gestured between them, "they don't often work out."
"What do you mean?" Her voice came out shakier than she wanted it to.
"I'm too old for you. I'm years older than you, and relationships of any type between two people with this much of an age difference seldom end well. Not to mention the fact that I was your teacher…" He studied her intently, as if gauging her reaction. "Some young women… they go through a sort of phase…"
Hermione frowned, deciding right then and there that she wasn't going to let him finish that sentence. "Do you think I don't know that? Do you think I haven't thought about all that? God, Remus, do you think it hasn't kept me up at night- thinking about that?"
He picked up a hand to rub his temple. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to insinuate-"
"No," she stopped him quickly, "you don't get to talk anymore. It's my turn to talk, because I have a lot of things I want to say to you."
For a second she thought he might leave; walk out the greenhouse and back into the house, but he didn't. He stayed there, nodding in silence for her to continue.
"I've always been mature," she said, pushing down the quiver in her voice, "You know that just as much as anyone. I've always looked for companionship in older, more mature people. Sure, there's Harry, Ginny, and Ron, but do you see me having any close friends my age other than them? For the past three years I've nearly been on a first name basis with most of my teachers. I'm mature. I'm not a girl going through a- a phase."
He took a breath as if to say something, but shut his mouth and decided against it.
Hermione was realizing that she'd been planning for this conversation – plotting out these arguments and stringing these words together in her mind – for weeks. She continued speaking, "Now, I've thought long and hard about this whole werewolf thing, and I'm sure you have as well. I've come to accept the fact that other people – normal people – can never understand me on the level that another werewolf can. No one-" she swallowed dryly, praying that she didn't start crying, "no one can understand me like you can. I know we have- I know there are issues because of how this all began." Her voice grew shaky as she remembered the fear and devastation from that first night in the Forbidden Forest, "but I also have so much faith in our ability to work through this, and to do it together."
He was regarding her with a thoughtful, albeit slightly unreadable expression.
"There's a war going on." She sighed, "I know there's a war going on and that things are different now, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't be happy while we can. Just because there's death and violence and hatred doesn't mean we can't try to be happy. It doesn't mean we can't try to make happiness."
He closed his eyes as Hermione said those last few words, his jaw clenching with some sort of influx of emotion. Finally, in the silence that stretched between them, he opened his eyes, looking at her with a terrible twist of sadness and relief and something else she couldn't pick out.
"Lily said almost those exact same words to James once," he explained, his deep green eyes boring into hers. It was now that Hermione recognized that other emotion swimming in his eyes as nostalgia. The sun had completely set now, leaving only his silhouette and traces of moonlight to outline his features.
"Harry's parents?" she asked, already knowing the answer.
"Yes," he nodded, "just before they got married James had some doubts." A forlorn and wistful smile grew on his lips. "She talked him out of it, of course. Lily always had a knack for getting through to people when they were being thick." His smile changed into something happier as he looked at Hermione. She felt like her chest was going to burst.
In that moment Hermione wanted more than anything to know Harry's mother. She wanted Lily and James to be alive, loving their son and bringing Remus and Sirius back form this darkness that must have set in with their deaths.
In Hermione's silence, Remus' expression had changed again. He was back to that look of doubt and sadness. "Hermione…" he began.
"No," she cut him off again, "I- I still have more to say."
With a quirk of his lips, he conceded.
"I know that the fact that I was your student and that I'm Harry's age bothers you. At the risk of sounding like Mrs. Weasley, it should bother you." He smiled a little at that. She trekked on, "but just because our relationship is unusual or that it might not be viewed in the best light by some people doesn't mean we should cast all of it aside. You said it yourself: these are special circumstances. We've gone through too much together to care about the fact that I'm young or that you were my teacher. It's insignificant compared to- compared to this," she waved her hand between them, running out of words to say.
The greenhouse fell silent.
She watched his expression closely, with a sort of hopeful determination rising in her chest. He searched her face, a small smile once again gracing his lips. "I care about you very much, Hermione," he finally said, making her heart beat ten times faster with those words, "and although I will admit to having many worries and doubts… I think you're right."
Hermione didn't know what he thought was 'right', but she allowed herself to assume that he meant everything. A brilliant smile lit up her face.
"I think there's a lot more we still need to discuss," he swallowed, "but dinner is soon and it's getting cold out here." As if to prove this claim, he looked pointedly at the shivering of her shoulders. She was still only wearing a t-shirt. Remus continued, "I would- I'd very much like it if we could speak more later tonight."
"Okay," she said, trying to ignore the bubble of excitement rising up in her stomach. "When?"
"After the others have gone to bed," he muttered, "meet me in the library."
She couldn't resist another broad grin at these words. "Alright."
He nodded before turning and looking back towards the house. It was rather dark now. "It's about dinnertime," he observed after checking his wristwatch, "we should go back inside."
Together, the pair of lycanthropes strolled back to the house, neither speaking but both battling a hundred rising emotions at once. Luckily, their absence had gone unnoticed. Mrs. Weasley was calling the household for dinner. Ginny quickly pulled Hermione away to sit with her and the boys. Throughout all of dinner Hermione couldn't shake the thought that everything had changed.
Author's Note: I played around with a little imagery in this. Let's blame it on all the classics I've been reading lately. Anyway, I hope everyone liked this chapter. I'm going to try to post the next one soon, and then you all can find out what happens when Remus and Hermione meet in the library…