DISCLAIMER. None of the characters used are a creation of mine. They belong solely to JK Rowling.

Saudade.

An absence of a loved one.

Hermione remembered how as a child she had taken to reading the dictionary for no reason other than to seek pleasure. Her classmates had laughed but her mother had tussled Hermione's hair and graciously provided her with the intricate knowledge of words.

Saudade was one beautiful little combination of letters that the Portuguese had come up with. A word the English language hadn't yet been able to fully grasp.

Saudade.

A nostalgic remembrance of someone that was no more.

Hermione couldn't tell who she felt nostalgic for. There were, of course, the dead. She would never truly be separate from them. They were a part of her, forever her essence.

But then there were those in her direct sight. Always around her. Always so close. And yet so frustratingly far away.

And she couldn't touch them. Couldn't reach out to them. Couldn't have them hold her. They were as gone as those she'd had to leave behind in her past.

Her eyes followed the graceful twirls of the green eyed redhead, clinging onto the arm of the messy haired Marauder. She could almost see another fiercely loyal young lady in the arms of another raven haired man. She smiled to herself at the irony of life.

How alike Harry truly was to his father.

Hermione revelled in the warmth that pooled at the base of her gut at seeing the future Potters finally togethe as one. As they were meant to be.

She gathered her cloak a little tighter around herself, the cold Christmas winds nipping at her cheeks, her muffled steps not far behind the Marauders and Lily walking arm in arm, talking away the morning in hushed tones as Hogsmeade loomed nearer and nearer.

As she saw them step into the Three Broomsticks, she felt on the outside looking in. A stranger. A traitor.

She saw through the window as Sirius waltzed around, wooing and dazzling Madame Rosemerta. She saw as Peter found his way to a rosy cheeked Dorcas sitting in the corner with her friends. She saw James drop a sweet lover's kiss on Lily's head. She saw as Remus looked on longingly at his friends, a certain unsettled emotion swirling on his face.

Losing her newfound family had torn Hermione's heart asunder. A pain that had felt like thousands of needles poking into her. She had been so afraid of never being able to find another soul she could grow to care for, not after the terrified life she had led where she had lost everyone that mattered. But this little group of misfits had somehow won her over. And she had lost them too. And worst of all, it was of her own making.

The sun lay hidden behind the cover of clouds as Hermione pulled herself away, her feet padding against the snow laden cobblestone, leading her to the old and dilapidated pub.

She entered the dingy place. The Hog's Head, as ever, was scarcely lit, its few customers mulling over goblets of mead and whiskey. Hermione propped herself on one of the stools against the barhead and ordered herself the forever loyal drink of forgetfulness.

'You drink an awful lot for a lady,' Reggie commented dryly from her side.

'When you've seen as much of the world as I have,' Hermione replied, 'you'll understand why.'

Reggie rolled his eyes, 'You've only been with him a year longer than I have.'

Hermione chuckled humourlessly. 'Your cousin is planning something for you. Or so I have heard. Rab keeps telling me of her pride over you.'

He sighed, 'Well, at least I can be certain my holidays will be fun.'

She nudged his shoulder lightly, grazing the tips of her fingers against his frigid hand, 'All in good time, Reggie. Have faith.'

'I am ruination, Mi.' He whispered, 'I was so foolishly naive.'

Hermione frowned, 'No, you weren't. You were innocently naive. There's a difference. You just didn't know any better. There was nobody to show you the right way.'

'There was Sirius,' he said, disappointment lacing his voice. 'You were there too.'

'It's all in the past now,' she placated. 'We have to live with our choices no matter how terrible. Accept them. Accept your weaknesses and wear them like armor.'

Reggie looked at her through furrowed brows. 'You know my mother would say it was predestined. Such honour,' he spat, 'was meant to find its way to our House.'

Hermione laughed, 'It will make you feel better to know that I happen to have the tendency to defy the written word and change the course of time.' Her eyes still twinkling with merriment, she got up and patted his head fondly. 'Someday, Reggie, this will all feel like a dream.'

'Someday,' he snorted. 'Just a fancy way of saying never.'

Hermione smiled sadly and left. Her own thoughts were too morbid to attend to that morning. She couldn't quite help out others when she felt particularly self destructive.

Once again under the expanse of the sky, Hermione felt herself shiver in the cold as tiny snowflakes paraded onto her shoulders. Wrapping her arms around herself, she trudged along the vacant street. It seemed no student was gutsy enough to brave the harsh weather this day.

Her feet led her along a path barely travelled, sparkling and crunching with the earthy loam of the thinned out woods. She traversed her steps to the outskirts of the village, the Shrieking Shack growing closer with every fervoured breath. The one place still frozen in time. It looked just the same as it did when she'd first seen Ron try to scare her.

A moment of solace might perhaps lift her spirits.

The silence seeped into her bones, the woods as still as a corpse. Her fingers once again twitched around the tiny knight in her palm.

She almost slipped, skidding to a stop by the railing of the Shack.

'Admiring the view or wondering about the ghost?,' she heard a familiar voice call out sadly from somewhere to her right.

She gasped, her eyes roving over the scarred face. She smiled, hesitant, 'You frightened me, Remus.'

The corners of his lips drooped, 'I frighten a lot many people.'

'No,' she shook her head vehemently. 'Moony frightens people. Not you.'

Remus shrugged his shoulders, looking upward to the grey skies, the frozen air delicate on his arms.

'You should run away now,' Hermione said, suddenly reminded of the painful limits that bounded her.

'Hermione,' he murmured, soft as a dove, 'you don't have to pretend. Not with me.'

Hermione bit her lip, careening her neck the other way.

He flicked his wrist, casting a quick Muffliato. Quite an unnecessary burden given the aching solitude surrounding them. 'You spend an awful lot of time with Dumbledore for a Death Eater.'

She chuckled, 'The Map!' She cursed under her breath, 'Never try to fool a Marauder.'

'You're fooling the other three just fine,' he said, bitter and fatigued, his eyes focused onto the gravel. 'I know you're his spy. He's asked me to be one too. When I graduate, I mean.'

Hermione shut her eyes, 'Oh, Remus. Please tell me you didn't accept.'

'I would be helping,' he said, not entirely certain himself. 'Relaying all of Greyback's secrets to the Order. I'm no fan of putting my life on the line but.. we do what we do to win the war.'

The snowstorm grew thunderous. The wind was howling now.

Hermione cocked her brow, her words slow and certain. 'You know, if you're wrong about me being a spy you'd be compromising your position before you'd even begun.'

'I know I'm not wrong. I trust you.'

Hermione laughed bitterly, just a little enraged at his naiveté. 'That's a heavy price you're willing to pay.'

Remus looked at her. 'You can't lie to me. Especially not so close to the full moon. I can sniff you out,' he snickered.

Hermione's eyes remained downcast. She felt Remus timidly wrap an arm around her, almost scared she'd break under his grip.

'Do they know?,' she asked, broken. 'Does he know?'

'I didn't think it was my place to tell. I reckoned you must have a pretty solid reason to hide.' He paused. 'I know you're upset. We were so quick to believe. All these years and..'

'Please,' she snorted, 'the Mark on my arm is enough to make anyone believe. I don't blame them. Not really.'

Remus nodded tightly. 'Prejudice doesn't run strong only among Slytherins. The boys can't look beyond the Mark on your arm. They don't know anything about real life. They're still so..sheltered. James is beginning to crack since his parents died but Sirius has been at the forefront since the beginning and it's easy for him to protect himself by virtue of his feigned ignorance.

'He's been raised by a family of luanitcs, Mi. His entire life he's seen purebloods bigoted in their ways but you were different. James was different. You two showed him how the world could be better. And when he saw you.. it shattered his concept of reality.'

Hermione felt tears prick her eyes.

Remus backtracked, wiping them away and looking at her sternly. 'No, Mi. I'm not blaming you. Merlin knows you're more of a Gryffindor than all of us put together. What I'm saying is that he will figure it out in the end. He will, I know it. He's blind now but not forever.'

'I know that with the way he's been raised it wouldn't be difficult for him to pounce on the fact I'm one of the Death Eaters too. It's something to be expected, to be honest.'

Remus nodded, 'I'm not trying to absolve him but he still has a long way to go, Mi. And he does doubt the picture you've painted for him. His feelings for you are as strong as ever.' He grinned tiredly, 'He's just a wounded dog.'

Hermione leaned into his side, 'Why are you out here in the cold, Remus? All alone?'

Remus' brows threaded together, 'Just contemplating.'

He tried to hide his worries but Hermione knew better. She remembered Professor Lupin and his little mannerisms. She remembered how he chose to furrow it all in, all his pain.

She hugged him lightly, 'Hey? Tell me.'

He put all his efforts into laughing it off, 'It's nothing, Mi. Don't worry. Besides,' he wagged his brows playfully, 'my werewolf skin is resistant to the cold.'

Hermione sighed. 'You're scared it'll be this easy for them to kick you out too.'

His face crumpled at the admission. 'Yes,' he croaked out. 'When I'll roam around with the pack I don't know what I'll be forced to do. There's no telling what sort of monster I'll become.'

'You can still say no.'

'It needs to be done,' he stressed.

'Not at the cost of your sanity,' she mumbled.

'I can do this,' he whispered. 'I can. And it's not like I'll be completely isolated. I'll be allowed to attend Order meetings. Dumbledore said so himself.'

She hugged his side birefly, rubbing a comforting hand against his arm, looking into his soft eyes.

Saudade.

The love that remains. An unfinished fate.

Because some things cannot be left behind.