Chapter 108: Thursday, August 15, 2002
"When life is too easy for us, we must beware or we may not be ready to meet the blows which sooner or later come to everyone, rich or poor."
-Eleanor Roosevelt
"ARGH!"
Remus jolted at the sound of the bellow, smacking the back of his head on a low hanging tree branch—hard.
"Merlin, Remus! Are you okay?" Hermione asked, her face pulled in concern as she rushed over to him, leaving her basket of daisy roots on the ground.
"Shit," he groaned, touching the spot gingerly. "Yeah, yeah I'm fine—"
"ARGH! 'MIONE?! REMUS?!"
"Ron," Hermione breathed, her eyes growing wide. "You're okay—you're sure?"
"I'm fine," Remus said, pulling himself to his feet and gripping his wand.
Another terrified shriek ripped through the trees and Hermione took off, sprinting toward the sound with Remus bounding close behind her. Ron had gone further into the forest in hopes of collecting flobberworm mucus from the colony that was living in a dead tree and had assured them both that he would be fine on his own. The sound of hysterical screams coming from the thick of trees had Remus cursing at himself for allowing Ron to split off from them.
He knew better. Remus knew what could happen when a group split—images of waking up to a pair of shattered horn-rimmed glasses with James nowhere to be found surged into the forefront of his mind.
Remus' heart pounded in his chest as he ran, leaping over fallen logs and following Ron's screams-turned-whimpers. They neared a copse of trees, shrouded in darkness created by the thick foliage of late summer leaves hanging high above them. It seemed to be at least ten degrees cooler, this deep in the forest, and Remus felt a chill run up his spine. An ominous yet familiar feeling crept into his bones.
Ron sat, frozen in fear at a half-rotted log, his hands covered in a thick, sticky substance and his eyes blown wide. Surrounding him were a dozen acromantula—their pincers clicking rapidly. Remus could see the breeze rippling through the hair that covered their legs and he watched as the light that pierced through the canopy of leaves glistened against their many beady eyes.
"Ron?" Hermione spoke first, taking a tentative shuffle forward. "They're just insects. We invaded their space first we—"
As Hermione took another step forward, a twig cracked beneath her shoe and all twelve heads simultaneously swiveled, staring curiously at her.
"Not...insects…" Ron croaked.
Hermione's brow furrowed as her eyes darted around, scanning the area. Remus' eyes finally adjusted to the low light and he noticed—a moment too late—the holes in twelve of the surrounding trees.
In the span of a few heart beats, the acromantulas shifted—twisting and turning themselves inside out in a swirl of black until, one by one, a thud hit the ground and Hermione stumbled backward.
The forest floor was filled with bodies.
Harry; mangled and bruised—eyes unseeing through shattered glasses. Ron; with blue lips and bulging eyes, a silent scream etched into the line of his mouth. Draco; a crumpled heap on the ground. Ginny, Blaise, George, Charlie, Bill, Justin, Theo, Tonks…
And, Remus himself. Screaming in agony at her feet. His body covered in deep wounds in the shape of chain-links. His torso torn apart from silver restraints and his eyes flashing between green and gold.
Remus inhaled sharply, staring at his own body as it writhed at her feet. Guttural sobs wracking through his—its—shaking body.
As he watched, he could feel the dull ache in his wrists and ankles, the burning of silver against his chest. This particular fear was a memory. This boggart had taken on the form of Remus after they had been captured while looking for Marlene.
"Hermione," Remus murmured, reaching a hand out to touch her shoulder. "Hermione, I'm here. It's a boggart. They're just boggarts."
She swallowed and nodded minutely, her shaking hand raising her wand. The boggart sobbing at her feet, wearing his skin, abruptly stopped its cries and stared at Remus, a slow smile creeping over its bloodied face.
Another breath, another heart beat, another blink of an eye—and all twelve ascended on him.
He slashed his wand through the air, but before he could shout "Riddikulus" six of the boggarts fell to the ground in a bloody heap of chestnut curls while the other six stood over them, massive, fur-lined chest heaving and a muzzle that foamed with blood. After a moment of watching his Werewolf form looming over Hermione's lifeless body, the boggarts began to twist and contort again. Remus felt his face pull in confusion until the area burst with Acromantulas, a few versions of himself writhing on the ground, a dead Harry, Ron, Draco, and Ginny.
And, standing directly in front of him, another version of Hermione. Her face distorted into a saccharine smile, her eyes wild. This strange dramatisation of Hermione had her hand stretched out before her, palm face up. Sitting in the center of her hand was a golden, glowing rock.
"Go back," she whispered. "I don't need you here. You forced your way in when I didn't want you."
"No, that's not—"
"I left you and you're so stupid that you followed. Can't take a hint, can you? I don't love you. Look at you—who would want something so broken and ragged?"
"Remus," Hermione's voice came from his right, shaking and thick. "I love you, don't listen to it. R-riddikulus!"
Remus blinked several times, his heart thumping hard, the sound of blood rushing his ears making it difficult for him to concentrate on the whooshing sound as boggarts disintegrated around him. But, still, this one continued to stare coldly at him.
"You're a Werewolf and you thought you ever stood a chance at happiness? A chance to grow old with me? Ha. It's pathetic. I took pity on you. You were always meant to be alone—"
"Riddikulus!" Ron boomed from somewhere on his left and Remus shook his head to snap himself out of the fear-induced trance. He heard Hermione call out the spell and then, once he was sure he could cast it without his voice wavering, Remus followed suit.
One by one, they banished the boggarts into the largest, hollowed out tree. Once the twelfth had deflated into a puppy and scampered off into its hiding place, Remus approached the tree and sealed it.
"Fucking hell," Remus sighed, sliding down the tree to land on his backside. He drew his knees up and ran a hand through his hair. He felt sick and exhausted. Even though he knew the boggart was just playing off his worst fears, he was still shaken. "That was shit."
"I've never seen so many at once," Hermione said, taking Remus' lead and sitting across from him with her legs folded in front of her.
"Well, no," Remus agreed. "They don't usually colonize. But, it's been known to happen. If they really want to lay claim to a specific place, they'll sometimes return with more. It looks as though that's the case here."
"You mean someone else has already banished boggarts from here?" Ron asked.
"Looks that way," Remus nodded.
"We should banish them completely," Hermione suggested.
Remus shook his head, "Let's leave them for now. There's so many of them—which really only adds another layer of protection to Headquarters. I can't see anyone getting through to the Shack coming this way. Not with a dozen boggarts roaming around."
With that, Remus stood, dusting the back of his trousers off with his hands before offering a hand to Hermione and hoisting her up from the ground. He held a hand out to Ron who shook his head, smiling sheepishly as he looked down at his mucus coated skin.
"Thanks, anyway." Ron smiled, "On the bright side, I've got about a litre of Flobberworm Mucus."
Hermione sat low on the sofa, sunk into the corner cushion with her feet tucked under her while she chewed absentmindedly at her thumbnail and flipped through the new journal. Her eyes read over the same scribbled writing she had seen every single day for weeks now. Each passage practically ingrained in the back of her eyelids. It was unsurprising that she just stared at one page, the edges of her vision blurring as her mind wandered back to the forest and the sight of her friends dead before her. The sight of Remus, once again, writhing in pain at her feet.
"Knut for your thoughts?" Ginny said, falling onto the cushion beside her with a carton of ice cream and two spoons.
Hermione felt her lips tug up and took the spoon Ginny held out for her, dipping it into the strawberry side of the neapolitan carton. "Thanks, Gin."
"You're welcome," she smiled around her spoon. "It's been a while. Looked like you could use it."
Hermione nodded, "Definitely."
"So…" Ginny pressed, raising her eyebrows at Hermione while she dipped her spoon back into the carton.
Hermione sighed, "You heard about the boggarts?"
Ginny nodded, "Ron mentioned it, yeah."
They ate in silence for several minutes. Ginny fidgeted and opened her mouth a few different times as if to say something, only to close her mouth around her spoon again. Finally, after the fourth failed attempt to start whatever conversation was clearly weighing on Ginny's mind, Hermione let out a slow breath and let her spoon rest in the carton.
"What is it, Ginny?" She asked, patiently.
Ginny looked at her, her eyes owlish, like she'd been caught nicking biscuits off the counter before dinner. "I—nothing. I didn't say anything."
"I know. But, you keep acting like you're going to. So…" Hermione made a vague hand gesture at Ginny, urging her to speak. "Go on. Out with it, then."
Ginny let her hand fall into her lap, her fingers going lax around the metal. "It's just...Well...I think...Well...you see…"
"Gin…"
Ginny puffed out a heavy breath, "Draco and I have been talking and I think you need to start figuring out when the right time to send Remus back to his own time is going to be."
The words came out rushed, like they burned her mouth as she put them into the air. Hermione stared at her, unblinking, for several seconds.
"Okay…" She said, drawing out the word as she tried to figure out what to say.
"It's nothing personal," Ginny insisted. "I swear it's not. I know Draco teases Remus, but he does that with everyone, you know that. Remus...well, brilliant and he's been a huge help! Everyone loves having him around."
"But?"
"But," Ginny put emphasis on the 't'. "It's becoming very obvious that Remus is changing the course of things. It's not a bad thing, really, but we don't know—"
"There's no way to know what's being affected because of his interference," Hermione finished.
Ginny nodded, "Yeah."
Hermione sighed, sinking further back into the cushions of the sofa and rolled her head to look at Ginny. "He's helping us, though, Gin."
"I know," she murmured, leaning forward to deposit the carton of ice cream and their spoons on the small table in front of them. She sat back and reached for Hermione's hand, holding it between both of her own. "That's sort of the problem though, isn't it? Everything we've accomplished, it's been because of Remus' help. Had he not been here, we may not have done them, or it might have ended differently."
"That's not a bad thing though!" Hermione argued, her throat feeling tight. "We've saved people that we probably wouldn't have if it wasn't for him! We got extra information from Ministry files that Penelope refused to go out for. He's a brilliant researcher—he's pieced together things even I haven't been able to work out!"
"No one is questioning his abilities, Hermione. We all know he's brilliant—he taught us half of what we know! He was only our professor for a year and I still think he taught me more than any of the other Defense professors combined! And then when you take into account the D.A. only existing because Harry was confident in his abilities thanks to Remus…" Ginny trailed off and huffed out a breath, looking past Hermione to the fireplace for several seconds.
"It's not a question of if we want him here. Of course, we do! But, he can't stay. You know this. Remus knows it, too. You need to think about when will be the right time to send him back. If he doesn't go back, none of this will happen. Everything we know could just…" Ginny pulled her hands away and mimicked an explosion with her fingers. "Poof."
Hermione's head fell back and she stared up at the ceiling. Ginny was right—of course, she was right. Remus had been here just over five months now, and like it or not, he was an integral part in their successes. His being here was affecting everything they did on a daily basis. He was becoming indispensable. And, as much as Hermione would never voice it aloud—Remus being indispensable was not a good thing for them. They relied too heavily on him; expected far too much of him. The longer he stayed, the more they would need him.
"How do I ask him to leave?" Hermione whispered, clenching her eyes shut in an attempt to ignore the burning behind her lashes. "Ginny, how do I ask him when I don't want him to go?" She pulled her chin toward her chest and looked at Ginny, tears clouding her vision. "How do I look him in the eyes and tell him he has to leave and go live a life of suffering and loneliness? I've never loved anything the way I love Remus."
"I know, Hermione, I do. But—"
"No, you don't understand!" Hermione said, her chin wobbling. "The only way Remus is going to leave of his own free will is if I convince him that I don't."
Hermione stared at Ginny, tears finally slipping past her lashes, burning hot against her cheeks. Ginny frowned and bit into the inside of her cheek.
"If you just explain to him the consequences…?"
Hermione shook her head, "It won't matter. He knows the consequences of his being here, he wouldn't have come if he didn't. Remus isn't completely reckless. He knows that his being here can unravel everything—he's not an idiot."
"No one thinks he is," Ginny insisted. "Look, I'm not saying he had to leave tonight or even this month. Just...just promise me you'll think about it. You'll have a conversation with him."
Hermione swallowed thickly and nodded, "I promise."
Ginny offered a sad smile before squeezing Hermione's hand and exiting the room, leaving the half-melted carton of ice cream on the table.
Thursday, August 22, 2002
Hermione was hiding something.
Remus knew that was more than likely untrue, she probably wasn't deliberately being secretive or avoiding him...probably. But, she had been distant and seemed off for the last week. She had completely locked herself in the recovery room with Justin the last five days—since he finally woke up and seemed to be a little more talkative and in less agony. She had explained he was still declining, but without the added potions to alter his blood, he was finally truly stable.
He was glad, of course, that Justin seemed to be on the mend. Well, as on the mend a person transforming into a Dark being can be, Remus supposed. And he knew that Hermione would have loads of tests to run and questions to ask him, but he still felt like she was...off.
You've probably gone and fucked it up, like you do with everything else, you great moron.
I've taken the potion all week, why are you still here?
Even if you keep sedating me, we're still the same person. I'm still inside your head.
We are not the same.
You're right. I would never lay about like a useless lump pissing and moaning about why our mate won't talk to us.
The moment I figure out how to drown you without killing myself, I'm going to.
Do us both a favour and just do it now, anyway. It'd probably do her a favour too, you cunt.
Remus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Is everything alright?"
He looked up from his place on the sofa to see Hermione crouched down in front of the book case, sifting through what looked to be a box of records.
"Moony," Remus answered, bitterly.
Her fingers stopped moving and she looked over her shoulder again, her brows furrowed. "I thought he was quiet when you took the potion?"
"He usually is. However, he can still communicate even while sedated, but he just usually keeps his big fucking mouth shut."
Hermione frowned, "Are you sure you've taken all of the doses this week? You haven't skipped any?"
"Yes," Remus bit out, feeling irritated. "Every foul fucking sip."
Hermione bristled and Remus instantly felt like a complete arsehole for snapping. He sighed and ran a hand over his face.
"Sorry," he mumbled.
She stood and shuffled toward him, straddling his lap and sitting back on his knees. Her hands cradled his face and she leaned in, pressing her lips gently against his before pulling back to look at him. He watched her as her fingers traced over his face to comb through his hair and he felt his shoulders sag with the scrape of her nails against his scalp.
"It's alright," she whispered. "Moonrise isn't far off, I know it can be difficult—some months more than others. Are you sure you're okay?"
He closed his eyes and nodded, "I'm fine. Are you?"
The pause before her answer forced his eyes open and she gave a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Of course, I am. Why wouldn't I be?"
He could almost always feel her magic thrumming within his own chest. On most occasions, the unusual sensation of foregin pitter-patters in his chest was a comfort, something he had grown used to—a reminder that she was here and alive and okay. But, right now, the way his chest twisted uncomfortably felt like a confirmation that she was lying.
He leaned forward, stealing her lips in a slow kiss and pushed her hair over her shoulder so he could trail kisses up her neck. He stopped below her ear and whispered, "You'd tell me if anything was wrong, wouldn't you?"
She sat back, out of his reach and stared down at him for a moment, "Remus, there's nothing wrong. I just have a lot on my mind with Justin waking up. And, now, Harry's been talking about sending groups out to find foreign allies so I've been doing some extra research there. I'm just tired, but I'm fine, I promise."
He held her face between his hands and let his eyes roam over her before bobbing his head a few times, "Okay. Yeah, okay. I love you, you know that, yeah?"
She smiled, "I do. And, I love you, too."
Hermione pecked the tip of his nose before climbing off of him to return to the box of records and Remus let out a low sigh. At least that last smile reached her eyes.
The uncertainty of what was going on in Hermione's mind followed Remus heavily the rest of the day. He found himself going out of his way to observe her, paranoid by two years of secrets kept—he knew she could withhold information if she needed to. He also knew that she wouldn't outright lie to him, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. That she was simply trying to ease his worries by omitting whatever it was that was bothering her.
At nearly half past ten at night, when the moon was at its peak and Remus hit the ground with a guttural scream of pain, he couldn't shake the clouded look of Hermione's eyes from his mind. With every crack and fracture to his bones, every twist of muscle and tear of tendons, he felt his anxiety increase. Finally, when he'd let out the last sob and his vision sharpened, he clambered onto the bed and waited.
Hermione always talked to him on Full Moon nights.
He wasn't sure what had started this little ritual. The first night he had transformed here, she opened up and it continued every month since. He looked forward to it now. He enjoyed listening to her talk about whatever was on her mind, happy that she felt safe enough with him—with Moony—to unload anything she needed to say. Sometimes, she would talk about missions; where they could improve or what could have been so much worse. Sometimes she told him stories about her time at Hogwarts—which felt alarmingly dangerous compared to his own time there. Sometimes she would sing Beatles songs and talk about her parents.
It was cathartic, he thought, for the both of them. When he was Moony, he could still think like himself, but everything seemed calmer. He was hard pressed to let anxiety take him over when Hermione played with his ears or lightly stroked the fur between his eyes.
Sure enough, ten minutes after he had gotten comfortable, he heard the ladder descend from the ceiling and the creaking of the wood as she climbed it. The trap door squeaked open and she pulled herself through, letting it fall closed with a heavy thud. He looked her over and let out a small yip, wanting nothing more than to tell her she looked amazing in his pyjama bottoms and his tee shirt.
"Hi, love," she sang, scritching behind his ears and climbing onto the bed. "I hope you don't mind that I borrowed some clothes. They're always more comfortable than mine."
Remus nuzzled into her side before resting his head on her belly. He watched her intently, patiently waiting for her to begin.
She closed her eyes and they laid together for the better part of an hour before she finally sighed and looked down at him, her eyes filling with tears. Remus whined, an attempt to ask what was wrong.
"We need to talk about when you…" she took in a slow, shaking breath. Sinking her hand into the fur on the back of his neck, she pushed on, "About when you'll need to return back to your own time."
He knew this conversation would be coming sooner or later, and still, his heart sank.
.
.
a/n: Happy Saturday everyone!
I had a really fucking shit week, so getting this chapter up has honestly been the highlight of it. I hope you enjoy it! Please, if you're active on FB and haven't joined my group (mimifreed writing) or just added me (mimi freed) please do that! I'll probably be posting some information regarding updates and possible hiatus stuff there soon. (Obviously, I'll post in an authors note as well, but you'll get the full info there and probably long before a chapter update if it happens)
I'm working really hard to try and make sure I don't have to go into hiatus right now, but life is a biiiiiitch. But again, I'll always keep you guys updated and I'm active af on social media (fb and twitter mostly) so, feel free to add me.
xoxo
Mimi
