"I wish you were here
I wish you would knock on the door
And you'd tell me it's me
Guess what I'm bringing
And you'd bring me you."
Boris Vian
Hermione was standing against a tree, big tears running down her cheeks. It had taken her a superhuman effort to get out of bed but she hadn't had the courage to get dressed. So she was outside in her pyjamas, crying her eyes out. Remus had gone outside to get some fresh air too. She had heard him come downstairs a few hours earlier and hadn't seen him since. She had better not. Today was perhaps the only day they didn't need each other, because they had to express their pain without worrying about anyone else.
Everything seemed to be a peaceful day. The sky was blue, without any clouds, it was already warm even though the morning had barely begun. The sea was calm, of a beautiful blue and one could not suspect that it was icy only if one put a toe in it. Yet the environment may have been peaceful, but in Hermione's heart there was a profound chaos.
If there was ever a day when Hermione stopped being Helena, stopped worrying about her cover, her mission, it was today. Because today was May the 2nd.
If the natural order had been followed, Harry would die in eighteen years, Ron in nineteen. But the course of Time had changed and for Hermione, her friends had disappeared seven years ago. Seven years since the Great Battle. Seven years since she had seen her second home become a ruin. Seven years since she saw her friends and comrades die one by one. Seven years since her hopes died. Seven years since Harry died. Seven years since her own mind died.
But May the 2nd, 1998 was not the only one to be disastrous. It had been six years since Ron and Hermione had been caught by Death Eaters. Six years since Hermione had been more alone than ever. Six years since Ron had succumbed to torture. Six years since Hermione had been gang raped. Six years since Draco Malfoy saved her. Six years since the quest for the Jewels of Time had begun. Six years since she had become colder than stone. Six years of loneliness.
Hermione never thought she would live this long. After the Battle, when the few survivors had fled, she and Ron had talked about it, it was a miracle if they survived more than a week. They couldn't get around on wizarding transport. The week had turned into months, the months into years. Would years turn into decades? Hermione hoped not. She couldn't fight the Death Eaters and Voldemort for that long again.
Today was the worst day she had ever known. May the 2nd. Just hearing it made her hate it. She hated the month of May, but she also hated the last week of April as the deadline was fast approaching. May the 2nd was a day of mourning, the mourning of her life. Hermione would go into a crying fit every time that day was mentioned and it was a miracle that she hadn't had a memory fit yet.
Hermione didn't care about her surroundings, she just cried, her eyes unfocused. So she didn't hear that someone had approached her and was calling her softly.
Once in a year, Hermione was completely herself again, no need to be called Helena anymore. She had even removed the human transfiguration charm that made her look like a mixture of the golden trio as Harry, Ron, and her had been called all those years ago.
"Helena. Helena answer me. You have to come out of your memories. Please stop crying" a concerned voice whispered to her.
Hermione could hear the voice in the distance, but she wanted to cry, she wanted to be Hermione, with her sensitivity and fragility. But the voice insisted. It was shaking her to stop crying, to stop feeling. She became aware of who was shaking her and focused on it.
"Please go away. I need to be alone."
"You can't stay like this, under this guise, everyone will think a Muggle has passed the protection spells, or worse, a Death Eater."
He paused, waiting for her to respond, but she did not. She continued to cry.
"Why are you crying?"he asked, a little too sharply.
"It's May the 2nd" Hermione replied, as if that explained everything.
Sirius sighed. Couldn't she give him a straight answer? He knew the date of the day after all.
"And what happened on May the 2nd?
"A lot of things"
"Aren't you going to tell me more?"
The wizard had asked a simple question, but he certainly hadn't expected to receive such a full answer, honestly, he even thought Helena would curtly dismiss him, certifying that it was none of her business.
"My school was always a refuge for me and I think it was the same for all my classmates. There had been a war, a terrible war, a few years earlier and it had ended with the death of Harry's parents and the destruction of the dark mage who was terrorizing the population. My classmates and I were too young to remember that war. But nothing went as planned. The Dark Mage who had caused so much harm was not dead and he resurfaced at the end of my fourth year. Harry was the only witness who had seen him and the Ministry did everything they could to discredit him. It was a tough year for Harry, but he stuck it out. I tried to be there for him but I felt like I was smothering him. He had seen a fellow student die before his eyes and the rebirth of the greatest dark mage of all time. Harry had a connection to this dark mage, a connection we didn't know about yet. He could see his outbursts of anger as well as joy and he understood that. So he sent him a vision. He was holding his godfather. Harry rushed to the Ministry, Ron and I obviously followed him and three other friends. But it was a trap and the dark wizard's minions were waiting for us. There was a battle, but the member of the light arrived, including Harry's godfather. He was hit by a spell from his cousin and fell into the archway."
Hermione's tears had been flowing throughout her story, but her sobs redoubled when she finished her tirade. Sirius' death was still traumatic many years later. He hadn't died in pain, he hadn't bled to death or torn off his limbs, but she remembered all the suffering that death had caused.
"He was the first person I saw die. Harry did not have an easy childhood, far from it. But his godfather promised him that one day he would come and live with him and leave his aunt and uncle. He was denied that. He never knew what it was like to live with a parent who loved him."
Hermione stopped talking, for long minutes. She seemed to have paused. The silence was very heavy, but Sirius didn't dare interrupt her, he was too afraid that she would have a memory crisis again and he really didn't want to deal with that now.
"Then my sixth year came" Hermione whispered after too many minutes, which startled the wizard. "The year of my descent into Hell. The year all my classmates went down into Hell. We were only sixteen or seventeen, but we were the sacrificed generation, we knew we were going to die. So everything went to hell. I think the teachers knew that things were happening in our common rooms, but they didn't do anything. They probably thought we should have some fun. This year was horrible. The first of many. Families were being slaughtered every day, I will always remember Hannah's expression when in the middle of botany class she was told that her mother had died. We were lost teenagers who didn't know what to do. During the day, everyone acted normal, but at night... The younger ones went upstairs to bed, because they knew what the older ones were doing, and despite all that, I tried to keep them safe, I thought that was my role as a prefect."
Hermione laughed mirthlessly, as if she now thought the idea was stupid.
"And to think they're all dead" she said in a cold, almost insensitive voice.
"What was going on in your common room?"
"Like in all the common rooms of the school. Alcohol, Drugs, Sex. Most people our age do the same, because they think they're immortal, that nothing can happen to them, but for us it was different. We didn't do it because we thought we were immortal, but because we knew we were going to die. It was a dark time, I would see my friends with a different person every night, completely torn between alcohol and drugs. They were falling apart. We were entangled in threads that held us captive. We couldn't escape. Maybe we didn't really want to. But we avoided showing it to the younger kids, because we had to preserve their innocence. The fourth graders were perhaps the bravest of all. They were the ones who sent the little ones to bed at night, and they were also the ones who made us leave the common room in the middle of the night so that the others wouldn't see us in the morning. We all showed up to class, but very few of us had completely lost our minds. The anti-hangover potion was never that successful. At first, in my Miss Perfect way, I was quick to judge them. But I soon realized that I was the one who was wrong. Harry explained it well. I was never much into sex or drugs, but I became addicted to firewhisky. Between one and two bottles a day. I was ashamed of myself, then like everyone else, I got used to being drugged with the anti-hangover potion. The other houses were like us, I think it was implicitly said when we passed each other in the halls.
"How did you stop drinking? I went from everything to nothing."
"We had to leave on a mission the director had given us before he died. We barely had enough to eat, my firewhisky was the last priority, like Harry's drugs and the girls Ron was fucking. Then Harry died and I started again. Not as much as before, but I did. Until Dennis died."
"That's..."
"The one who died because of my alcohol-damaged reflexes."
"I still don't see what this has to do with May the 2nd."
Hermione shuddered at the hated date.
"We finished our mission on the first of May in the night, returned to our school and the Battle broke out. Almost all my friends died that day. Including Harry, Rem's wife and son. Ron survived another year."
Hermione fell silent and stared at the horizon, still leaning against the tree. Her tears had stopped but her eyes were still bright. Her scar hurt like hell, she really felt like Harry. She didn't want to think about May the 2nd, she didn't want to think about Harry and Ron, she didn't want to think about what had happened, about her past. Right now, she just wanted to be with Remus, to cry and comfort each other.
She turned away from Sirius and walked to the security spell barrier. Her oversized pyjamas floated behind her, as did her chestnut hair. Despite what the marauder had said, she didn't care about being seen in her true form. There was no one at the HQ and who would have known that this stranger with hazel eyes and brown hair was herself? Someone would have had to get close to her and observe her carefully to recognize her scars, which was almost impossible since most had only seen them for a few seconds.
Once through the barrier, she moved on. She thought she knew where Remus was, but she wasn't sure, he could very well be in a deserted place in the middle of the Highlands. She didn't really think about how her friend would react, they had implicitly agreed that May the 2nd was a day for them to gather individually.
She arrived at Hogsmeade and headed for the Howling Hut. Luckily, the place was practically deserted and no one seemed to care about an unknown witch in Muggle pyjamas, disfigured by the too many scars on her face. To make matters worse, her eyes were red and her cheeks still contained the furrows of her tears. She entered the cabin quietly and observed the scene before her. Remus was crying on an old bed, Hermione didn't even know there was one, and everything in sight seemed to have been destroyed.
He was vulnerable, and surprisingly, it made Hermione feel good to see him like that. Not because she liked seeing him suffer, but because like her, he didn't forget and he shared her pain. They had both survived the worst, but they didn't forget to be human again. Remus finally heard her, he was still a werewolf and had superior hearing to wizards.
"Hermione. What are you doing here?"
The witch didn't answer him and threw herself into his arms, which made them both fall backwards.
"I needed you, to feel your presence. I was so lonely, but you are always there, I mustn't forget that. But the other times, we did it on our own, so I can leave."
"You stay. I think... I think I need you too."
They stayed in the same position, glued to each other, but they didn't mind. Feeling each other's body heat, their bodies against each other, reminded them that he wasn't alone in there. They were both in there. They were still crying and destroying things, but they were expressing their pain, and even if they didn't do it the same way, it didn't matter, they were doing it together.
"I've dealt with my problem with Lestrange, I think I'll be able to deal with her next time. I could finally avenge them. Sirius helped me deal with it. We found a boggart and he showed me all its flaws, and how I could fight it better, what its qualities are and where I should be perfectly vigilant. I realised I was over this fear when the boggart changed form. Now it is you. I am horribly afraid that you will die. But it wasn't like that. You were alive, like me, and you had abandoned me, you blamed me for their deaths, but it wasn't that that has haunted me ever since, of course I couldn't sleep, I kept seeing your blames, but what terrifies me is that you're abandoning me. I know you won't let me go as such, but you can disappear for whatever reason, you can be taken prisoner, you can die in the middle of a battle, you can decide to leave everything and go live a peaceful end of life on a desert island in the Seychelles. I'm afraid you're not here anymore."
"I won't abandon you. No matter what, I won't leave you. You have my word. I will always be there for you. Don't forget that. We are more than two, but we will always be two. I don't have anyone anymore Hermione. Don't you think I'm afraid of being abandoned too? My worst fear is to see you die, the most definitive abandonment."
"You know I meant what I said when we had to describe our relationship to Lily and the others. I really do consider you my father, my uncle and my best friend all at the same time."
"I couldn't have made you such a great young woman if I were really your father."
"Of course you could, we've spent over five years glued together. You shape me much more than you know. Much more than my father ever could, from the moment I became a witch, I've grown apart from him. It's okay if you think of me as a friend, or even as the best friend of your own best friend's son, your nephew, I don't know."
"You haven't been just Harry's best friend to me for a long time. You were only Harry's best friends for a very short time. And forget about the abandonment thing, you know it's never going to happen. I won't survive leaving you, you know that."
"You won't be able to stop me from feeling this way. The worst that could happen is that you die instead of me."
"That's the most likely thing you've told me."
"I don't want you to sacrifice yourself for me."
"I would, be sure, as I have no doubt that if the positions are reversed, you will also sacrifice yourself for me. Am I wrong?"
Hermione couldn't think of anything to say to him. He was right after all. She would sacrifice herself for him. She was already doing it.
She shook her head to clear her thoughts. Remus was there with her, in better than decent shape for the day. She was fine, safe in his comforting arms. She was sad, angry, scared, that was obvious, but it was okay, because she wasn't alone. It was okay, even for May the 2nd.