Chapter 58: Friday, December 5, 1980 cont'd

"Death divides people, not souls."

-Rehan Khan


At the age of twenty-three, Hermione could count on both hands the amount of times she'd been properly drunk in her life. The first time, she remembered, had happened the summer before fifth year while she was staying at Grimmauld place. Harry had just been cleared by the Ministry and Fred and George decided they should all celebrate with the Firewhisky they had nicked from Sirius' stash that was in an antique cabinet in the dining room. She had taken three shots and promptly fell asleep, waking up the next morning nauseous and parched.

Since then, she had certainly learned to hold her liquor, and drank a bit of wine relatively regularly, but she very rarely allowed herself to be completely void of her inhibitions. But, for some reason she couldn't fathom, she let Sirius talk her into drinking far too much, again.

And now, as she swayed on the spot from which she had jumped up when Remus appeared in the living room, she realized the very questionable situation she was in. She, of course, was fully clothed. A dark pair of jeans with a rather large flare, a tight fitting blue jumper and of course the ring Remus had given her for her birthday. The ring she currently twisted nervously around her finger as Remus' eyes flashed gold, his nostrils flaring in anger as he looked between a very naked Sirius black and a very drunk Hermione Granger.

"So… Is anyone going to tell me what the hell this is?" Remus said, his voice low and steady. A tell tale sign he was trying to control his emotions.

Hermione stared at him for a few more seconds before her brain finally caught up to what he had asked. Don't say it, don't say it, don't say it, she thought. But still, "It's not what it looks like!" Had come from her mouth before she could stop it.

Remus snorted, a repugnant sound coming from him as his eyes roamed over Sirius and back to her, "What's it look like then?"

"I should go…" Sirius said, slowly.

Remus' arm flew out to the side, his wand on the end, trained on Sirius, "You'll stay right here, mate."

"Moony-

"Why are you naked in my fucking house while my girlfriend is so pissed she can barely stand up straight?" Remus hissed, his eyes finally leaving Hermione to stare furiously at Sirius.

"Remus, I'm fine." Hermione said, and as if on cue, as if the entire universe decided that right now was the perfect moment to completely wallop her, she stumbled a few feet to the side. "Shit."

"Yeah, shit." Remus said, his chest pulling in sharp and angry breaths. "Pads, you've got exactly three seconds to tell me what the fuck is going on here before I hex your knob off."

"Moony…"

"One…"

"Okay! Okay! Merlin! I got into a fight at the pub and the bloke pissed himself and it got on my trousers! I needed to take a shower, 'Mione—

"Don't call me that!"

"—Needed to get her mind off whatever the hell it is you've been out there doing for almost a month! I took her out to unwind a bit, is all!"

Remus stood still, his wand still pointed at Sirius as he considered his words. Finally, his arm fell back to his side and he looked around, his eyes landing on the bottle of wine sitting open on the table with the glass that was three quarters of the way drained next to it. He took a step closer to Hermione and took a deep inhale through his nose, wrinkling it up as if she smelled incredibly unpleasant before he tucked his wand away, reaching out to grab her elbows and gently lowered her into the chair.

"Sober-up is in the spare room, top shelf, third row from the right," Remus said over his shoulder to Sirius.

"On it."

"Are you okay?" He asked, finally turning his attention to Hermione, his angry features softening a bit.

Hermione nodded, "I'm fine. Just… sozzled." She admitted, a sheepish smile on her lips, "I'm glad you're home. I've been worried about you!"

"Don't worry about me, I'm fine."

Even as inebriated as she was, Hermione could tell that Remus was absolutely not fine. He seemed on edge, testy, even. Usually when he came home from assignments, he was exhausted but tonight he seemed perturbed— antsy. His eyes darted in every direction, scanning around the house and he kept tilting his ear toward the hall, listening to Sirius as he moved about the house.

Hermione reached a hand out toward his face, her palm resting against his cheek, bringing his attention back to her. "Remus, are you sure you're okay?"

"Fine," he said.

Sirius stepped back into the living room, pulling Remus' attention away from her again and handed Remus the phial. He was wearing his jeans and t-shirt again, giving a small smile to Remus, "Sorry, had to use a cleaning charm before I put them back on. I'll head out. Glad you're home, Moony."

"Yeah," Remus said, pulling the stopper from the phial. "Thanks Pads."

"See you later, kitten."

Before Hermione could respond, Sirius apparated with a soft pop. She stared at the spot he had just been for a moment, her vision blurring considerably before the phial appeared in front of her, held out by Remus' slender, scar covered hand. She gave another small smile and took the phial swallowing down the contents. A few seconds of feeling like her head was being smacked into by a branch from the whomping willow, and she blinked rapidly. The nauseous, bubbling feeling in her stomach stopped and she cleared her throat. Remus grabbed the wine glass from the table, vanishing the contents and filling it with water from his wand before handing it to her. Hermione took the glass and sucked down the contents greedily, ignoring the bit of water that dripped from the corner of her mouth and down her chin as she gulped the cool liquid.

"Sorry," she said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, setting the glass down.

Remus shook his head, "Don't worry about it. I'm going to take a shower and go to bed, I'm knackered."

Hermione bit into her lower lip and nodded, "Okay."

After Remus showered, Hermione did the same and by the time she got back into the bedroom, clad in a pair of knickers and one of Remus' oversized t-shirts, Remus seemed to already be asleep. An incredibly uneasy feeling filled her gut and she couldn't shake the feeling that Remus showing up while Sirius was nearly naked in their living room wasn't the only thing that had him completely agitated.

She quietly pulled back the covers, and climbed into the bed, tucking herself into Remus' side. In sleep, he still pulled her closer to him, his arms wrapping possessively around her waist as they always did. But something was off. She laid her head on his chest, her hair draped over his shoulder, her hand coming up to trace the familiar silvery lines of scar tissue across his chest.

Even in sleep, he seemed far more tense than he usually did, his grip on her an iron hold as his chest moved stiffly. She could see the twitch of his eyelids and the small wriggle of his nose as his senses picked up his surroundings, surveying the area even while he slipped into much needed realm of sleep. Her hand fluttered lower on his torso, resting on his stomach and she inhaled sharply as she felt something unfamiliar. Her fingers gently traced the marks that stretched across his stomach, from just above his navel, slashing down to his left hip bone, tearing the left side of his lightly outlined lower abdominal muscles. The wound was gnarled and raised, rough with scabs and hot to the touch. Her heart jumped into her throat and she nearly fell from the bed, ripping the covers back in the process as she twisted in Remus' grip to grab her wand and light up the room.

"Unghh!" Remus groaned, an arm coming up to slant over his closed eyes, "Hermione, what are you-

"What the hell happened to you?!" Hermione cried, looking at the gash in his lower belly.

There were three of them, distinct claw marks, jagged and twisted across him. The skin split still, red and swollen in places—it looked infected. Before Remus could answer, she pulled herself out of the bed and rushed into the spare room to grab her bag, bringing it back with her. She began pulling out several different phials of antiseptic potions, numbing agents and healing salves. Hermione conjured a bowl and a white cloth, mixing the potions together to create a solution that she diluted slightly with water before dipping the cloth into it and then pressing it onto the wounds.

Remus hissed, his body jerking slightly as his arm fell away from his face and he tried to push himself up on his elbows to see what she was doing. "I'm fine," he said. "It can wait until morning."

"Remus, this is infected!" Hermione said, "Didn't you wonder why it was so hot?"

"My skin's always hot."

"Do you see these red streaks?" Hermione said, lightly tracing the marks around the wound. "That means it's infected. How long has it been like this?"

Remus shrugged, "I got attacked during the full moon."

"The full… That was weeks ago! You could have died had this gotten bad enough!"

"Lucky it didn't, I reckon."

Hermione stared at him in disbelief, "What happened?"

"I told you-

"No. You said you were attacked, weeks ago. Why were you still out there if you were attacked? Why didn't you come home?!"

"I had things to do!"

"What could possibly-

"I was trying to secure allies!" Remus said, his voice gaining a sharp edge. "I'm trying to do something useful instead of just sitting around twiddling my thumbs! There's so much movement out there, Hermione! People, creatures, beasts… Everyone is choosing a side! I don't have time to waste to come home so my girlfriend can patch up a cut! I rubbed some dirt on it and kept moving because that's what I was expected to do!"

"Expected to do?" Hermione repeated, a huff of humorless laughter on the end of her words. "Expected to die of a simple infection that could have been avoided? A wound I could have healed in no time and you could have been back on your way?"

"I can't just leave the werewolf colonies once I'm there. It doesn't work like that— especially if they're hostile."

"I thought you were going with allies."

"I was going to Poland to try and convince them to become allies. They didn't really fancy a visit from a british bloke who eats well, I had to prove myself."

"Prove yourself?" Hermione asked, re-wetting the cloth and pressing it back over the gash. She reached into her bag and pulled out another healing potion and pulled the cork out, handing it to Remus to take. He did so, without question, giving her back the empty phial. "What does that mean?"

The silence was thick between them, heavier than it had ever been. The look on his face was tortured as he closed his eyes, his mouth twisted into a grimace-turned-frown as his brows came together, creasing his forehead. He looked as if he would be sick if he thought about it much longer, the arduous burden of the last three weeks exacting its revenge on his psyche.

"It means," he whispered, his voice shaking. "I had to do a lot of things that I am not proud of."

Hermione didn't ask anymore questions. She continued to press cool cloths that were laden with healing solutions into the heinous slashes across his stomach and tried to ignore the soft sniffles coming from him as he bit into his fists and tried to pretend that he wasn't staining his pillow case with tears.


The morning brought no reprieve of the anxious, troubled energy that seemed to wrap itself around Remus. Instead of a lie in, which he normally took when he came back from an assignment, particularly if they had stayed up late, which they had, Remus was out of bed before seven.

A few minutes after he had pulled himself from the twist of thick blankets, Hermione joined him in the kitchen. She wanted nothing more than to stay in his arms the entirety of the day, to lavish him in affection and show him how much she had missed him. However, it seemed as if Remus was going out of his way to put distance between them. Even as he sat with his cup of coffee at the table, he sat on the opposite side of his usual spot, putting a few extra feet between them. Hermione tried to understand that perhaps he just needed a bit of time to himself, this had been the longest assignment yet and he had admitted to it being difficult. She felt an ache in her chest as she recalled how he had cried himself to sleep only a few hours prior, and she had chosen to ignore it, not wanting him to feel as if he couldn't have a good cry if he needed it.

Despite the last few weeks clearly weighing on him heavily, Hermione knew that she had to deliver more upsetting news, and it was better to get it out of the way now than to wait.

"Morning," she said, pulling her foot onto the seat of the chair and wrapping her arms around her knee.

Remus made a noncommittal sound, not looking up from his mug as he bobbed his head a bit.

Hermione blew out a heavy breath, taking a sip of the too-strong coffee and bit into her lip before clearing her throat. Remus finally looked up at her, his eyes darting around, surveying the room before landing on her face. She got up and walked into the living room, pulling the note from Lyall off the end table where she had placed it for safe keeping and brought it into the kitchen.

"What's that?" Remus asked, a skeptical look on his face.

Hermione fiddled with the edge of the parchment, "I already wrote back, it wasn't addressed so I didn't realize… Anyway, I'm going to take them lunch today and to check in but…" she trailed off, handing him the letter. She watched as his eyes scanned the few words several times before he looked back up at her. "I'm planning to go over at half twelve."

An exhausted look of defeated sadness settled into his face, aging him several years in the matter of seconds as he slowly nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, half twelve will be okay."

"Remus, are you-

"I'm fine."

Hermione considered him for several moments, but finally nodded. "Okay."

He was definitely not fine, but she decided not to press the issue. It was clear that whatever had happened had taken it's toll and Remus needed time to process it. She could be patient, she could allow him the time to deal with whatever it was that had happened and she would remain calm and steady for him.


Hermione checked the clock again as she packed the sandwiches she had put together into a basket along with some fruit, crisps, and biscuits she had picked up from the bakery in town. Remus had left shortly after they talked this morning and hadn't been back, and while she was sure Hope would prefer her son's fresh made shortbread over the ones she had purchased, Hermione didn't want to ask him to make them.

Finally, just a few minutes before she was going to leave, she heard the pop of apparition, and sighed in relief when Remus entered the room. He looked utterly exhausted, the bags under his eyes pronounced and dark against his pale skin. His face looked almost washed out, void of it's usual warm humor. His eyes seemed dull, the amused twinkle that typically lit them was replaced by something haunted, hollow, almost.

Hermione swallowed back the urge to ask him again, if he was feeling okay. She knew he would answer her with a curt 'I'm fine' and she didn't want to upset him any further. Briefly, her mind wondered if perhaps he was still upset for the predicament he had walked into upon his arrival last night. Was he angry at her for allowing Sirius to take her to the pub? Is that why he was giving her a cold shoulder? She shook her head. No, that couldn't possibly be it. Remus, while territorial close to the moon, was not jealous. He wouldn't remain angry over something as petty as Sirius needing to take a shower.

"Hi," he said, quietly as he entered the kitchen.

"Hi."

"Sorry I just erm… I just sort of ran out on you earlier. I needed to meet with Dumbledore and Moody before we left."

Hermione gave a smile that she knew probably looked half-hearted, "You don't have to explain, I understand."

Remus nodded and took a few steps, closing the distance between them and wrapping his arms around her neck, his face buried in her hair. She returned the embrace, holding tightly to his waist and breathing in deeply, feeling his chest move against her face as he did the same.

"Sorry I've been a prick."

"You haven't," she assured him.

"I have. I've just got a lot on my mind."

Hermione held tightly, her fingers pressing into his back as she listened to the flutter of his heartbeat, always racing so much faster than her own. The warmth of his skin permeating through his jumper and warming her in a way she hadn't realized she had been missing so deeply since he had left. A sudden thought rocketed through her mind and she wondered when she returned to her proper timeline, if she would ever feel warm again, the way she did when Remus' arms were wrapped around her.

Shoving the thought to the side in an attempt to stifle the emotion swelling in her throat, she pulled away slightly, pushing up to her tiptoes to place a small kiss to the underside of his chin. He tilted his head down at the last minute and captured her lips, lingering for a few seconds before pulling away and placing another chaste kiss to her forehead.

"We should go," Hermione whispered.

"Yeah."


Lyall Lupin looked as if he hadn't slept in weeks.

The previously indomitable man jumped up from the sofa the moment Hermione and Remus cleared the hearth, dusting the soot from their clothes and shaking out their hair. Remus muttered a cleaning charm to collect the mess and stepped into the room, his eyes landing on his father and his shoulders slumping almost instantly.

Lyall looked almost unkempt. His eyes were bloodshot, dark rings stark against his lightly tanned skin. His facial hair was at least a few days past a shave and his clothes were shabbier than normal. He looked thinner, as if stress and uncertainty had quite literally ate away at his broad frame and instead of the stern set of his jaw, his face seemed slack with worry and grief.

"Dad?" Remus asked, his voice indicating his shock at seeing his father look so… broken.

"I wasn't expecting you, Remus." Lyall said, his voice hoarse. Whether it was from not being used or sadness, Hermione couldn't be sure. "Hermione wrote yesterday and said…"

"Got in late last night," he responded. "What's going on?"

Hermione did not miss the tremble of Lyall's chin as his eyes became brighter than they had been moments before, he sniffled, taking in a sharp breath before giving a shrug. "We don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know?" Remus asked, the words coming out slowly as he stared at the man before him.

"Took her Mungo's, they have no idea what's wrong. There's a lot they can't do because she's a muggle, you understand. She can't…" Lyall stopped for a moment, clearing his throat before continuing, "She can't metabolize the stronger healing potions the way we can. She just rejects them, vomits them right back up. They suggested I take her to muggle hospital, that muggles sometimes have diseases that we don't get. We knew that, of course. Told her years ago, before you were even… Before… That she has some muggle disease. Well, you know what it's been like…"

Remus nodded, taking a tentative step toward his father. "Yeah. She's been sick on and off for years, I know. You take her to muggle hospital, then?"

"Yeah," he said. "The healer there did some… all these tubes and these words.. I- I don't know what any of it meant and th-they…"

Hermione saw the moment Lyall began to break down for what she assumed was not the first time today. Remus' eyes grew large and he suddenly looked very young, like a terrified child with no idea how to get away from the monsters lurking in the dark. Hermione set the basket of food they had brought on the ground next to her and moved forward, in an attempt to console the man, she embraced him.

Hermione thought for sure she had overstepped her boundaries when the man stiffened, but a few breaths later, he had folded himself over and enveloped her in a crushing hug, his soft sobs wetting her shoulder and his sharp intakes of breath blowing her hair about her face. She closed her eyes and hugged him tightly, rubbing circles into his back as the older man cried. When she opened her eyes, they stung with unshed tears, the pain of Lyall Lupin palpable, and she locked her gaze onto Remus. Remus stood a few feet behind his father, his eyes red rimmed and his cheeks wet as he watched his father fall apart.

After a long while, Lyall seemed to calm, stepping away and looking embarrassed. Hermione conjured a handkerchief and handed it to him, a soft smile on her lips.

"I'm sorry," Lyall said.

"Don't be," Hermione whispered. "May I go see her?"

"Yeah," he said, nodding. "Yeah, I think she'd like that. Down the hall, last door."

Hermione offered another kind smile before crossing the room, reaching up to cup Remus' cheek for a moment, brushing away the wetness beneath his eyes. "Talk to him," she whispered.

Remus gave a nearly imperceptible nod and Hermione continued down the hall to the door leading into the master bedroom. She knocked lightly, and smiled to herself when she heard Hope's voice on the other side.

"Come in," she said.

Hermione pushed the door open, stepping into the room. "Hi."

"Oh, Hermione!" Hope smiled, her ashen face brightening a bit as she struggled to push herself into an upright position. Hermione quickly stepped to her side, helping her prop up and fluffing her pillows a bit behind her back "Thank you. Lyall said you might be stopping by today."

"Remus is here too. He got in late last night, he's talking to Lyall now, but if you'd rather-

"Oh I'm certain he'll interrupt us soon enough," Hope said. She shifted her legs a bit, patting the space beside them for Hermione to sit. "Has Lyall stopped crying yet?"

Hermione took the seat, fiddling with the ring on her finger. "No, he's still quite upset."

"I keep telling him it was only a matter of time. We've all got to go eventually and no one is entitled to a long life, I think I've made it lucky to get nearly fifty years in. So many don't see that, especially in this climate. I'm confident you know that better than most, though."

Hermione stayed silent, her mouth twisting down a bit as she chewed on her bottom lip, her eyes roaming over Hope. Her hair had been braided back and her face was sunken in and void of colour, the usually rosy apples of her cheeks pale and her lips chapped. Her large, mossy green eyes still sparkled with mirth, however, something that Hermione found to be strangely comforting.

"Although," Hope continued after observing a few moments of silence. "I will say I'm disappointed to depart this earth before I see my son call you his bride. I see my ring on your finger, and I know he did not ask the question he should have, but I would have so loved to see him have that."

Hermione swallowed hard, her breath shaking a bit as she exhaled.

"Have you any knowledge of Greek Mythology, Hermione?" Hope asked, rather suddenly.

"Erm… A very limited amount. I never saw the purpose for following stories of forgotten Gods," she admitted.

Hope smiled, reaching out to take her hand. "I have a bit of an interest in the subject myself. Your name is not just a Shakespearean anecdote, did you know? Hermione is the female form of Hermes."

"The Messenger God," Hermione said.

"Indeed. Did you know that not only was Hermes the messenger, but he was a protetor as well. Said to have watched over travellers and merchants, even soldiers. But more than that, Hermes was a conductor of souls, leading newly departed souls from this world to the next."

Hermione tried to make sense of the information, wondering why Hope felt the need to tell her the origin of her name and the connection to mythology. She remained silent, listening to her as she spoke.

"I find it so interesting that like Hermes, you are a protector. Here to heal and to guide, when needed. I do believe my soul and that of my son's, is in good hands."

Hope reached out and grasped Hermione's hand, her thumb rubbing small circles in the thin skin on the back of her knuckles. If only Hope knew what Hermione was fighting off—that she wouldn't be saving or guiding souls… she would be stealing and damning them.

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a/n: Hey all! Sorry for the late af update! I finally got to spend time with my family for Christmas, so I was away from the laptop all day! But, here it is! I hope you liked it!

Just a reminder, Thursday will be the last update for about two weeks! If you'd like to stay up to date and chat a bit with me here and there, please feel free to join my group on FB: Mimifreed Writing :)

xo

mimi