"Do you all have everything you need?" Mrs. Weasley asked.
Kings Cross was filled with muggles and wizarding families yelling farewells, and rushing to their perspective platforms. Hermione never left the train from Hogwarts and back on her first year. She had no idea it could get so crowded. She searched for familiar faces, wondering if she might spot Luna, but quickly gave up. She would have clasped her hands to-well, she didn't know why, it steaded her, controlled her, she guessed-had it not been for Crookshanks's basket and her trunk.
Why is everywhere so damn crowded? she thought, her stomach churning.
She listened to the impatient mewing, and the conversations around her. Mrs Weasley and Arthur Weasley sounded apprehensive as they talked to each other. Harry, Ron and the twins buzzed with excitement. No, that wasn't exactly true, Harry seemed very distracted...Of course he is. I do want to try to talk about it later.
"Have you ever crossed the barrier to the platform, dear?" Mrs Weasley asked.
Hermione shook her head as they gathered around the wall between platforms nine and ten. She watched as Fred and George ran their trolleys through the brick barrier, vanishing to the other side. She had read about the platform and enchantments on it, and had seen quite a lot of impressive magic in her time, but there was something fascinating about seeing the Weasleys one-by-one move through the brick wall as if it were no more than water.
Water was not an apt metaphor, she decided when she leaned through the wall herself. It was like she fell through a whole perfectly shaped for her, and fell onto an equally bustling platform, this time with only witches and wizards. The great train sat at rest on the tracks as large groups boarded. She stood on tiptoes to see she who she could and couldn't recognise.
"Does everyone have everything?" Mrs Weasley asked, again.
"Yes, Mum," came a collective exasperated tone from the Weasley children.
"Alright, dears," Mrs Weasley beamed at the lot of them with outstretched arms.
Mrs Weasley went through her sons, one by one, standing on the balls of her feet to hug them and kiss them on the cheek. Something Ron and the twins received with groans. Ron's ears burned scarlet when she moved to her youngest, and only girl with more fervour.
Looks like Dad isn't the only one scared of something happening again...
"Okay, Mum," Ginny groaned after what must have felt to her was ages. "I'll miss the train if you don't let go."
"Of course, dear," Mrs Weasley released her, her cheeks an embarrassed pink.
"Thank you for having me," Hermione nodded to Mr and Mrs Weasley. "It was- Gah!"
Mrs Weasley threw her arms around her, squeezing her tightly to her. "It's not a problem at all, dear," she smiled before kissing her cheek.
What the actual hell?! Hermione wasn't really sure what she felt, other than uncomfortable. She was angry that Mrs Weasley just assumed Hermione was okay with being handled by a woman she had just met. It was as if she had no clue Hermione was capable of having boundaries, or she just didn't care. Hermione wasn't her child, and that-but on the other hand, it was...nice, maybe? To have an older woman give a damn about her, to be a priority-it was nice to feel cared for, wanted...but it also felt...Mrs Weasley was a complete stranger to Hermione!
I can sort this out later, "Right," she awkwardly squeaked, backing away. "Erm, thanks again for having me."
Mrs Weasley had then moved on to Harry, who also hadn't the option to initiate or back down. Though she did spare him the kiss on the cheek, leaving Hermione to wonder if it was because he was a boy or because she had more respect for his boundaries. Or both?
"Please feel free to write us about anything, Harry dear," Mrs Weasley beamed up at Harry and squeezed his shoulders. "We are always happy to have you and hear from you."
"Erm," Harry shrugged. "Thanks. For everything."
"Oh, actually, Harry," Mr Weasley placing a hand on his shoulder. "If I could speak with you-"
"Arthur," Mrs Weasley bit her lip.
"It's important, Molly," he replied.
The married couple stared at each other in silence for a moment before the much shorter woman gave a nod. Mr Weasley ushered an apprehensive, but curious Harry away from the cluster of Weasleys. Hermione was not the only one craning her neck to try and make out what the two were saying.
"Go on, you lot!" Mrs Weasley shooed them away.
Hermione turned to follow Ginny and the boys to the train when Mrs Weasley spoke again.
"Oh, I almost forgot!" she said regaining the children's attention. "That goes for you, too, Hermione, dear. You can write to me about anything."
"Erm," Hermione squeaked before nodding. "Thank you, Mrs Weasley. It's-erm-very considerate."
Hermione boarded with the Weasleys, all of them sniggering.
"I promise, she means well," Ginny assured her.
Ron scoffed and rolled his eyes. "You'd think she's looking to adopt you!"
"Are you surprised?" Fred asked.
"Mum nearly lost it when she told Dad you didn't remember having a mother!" George added.
"I, for one, would be happy if she claimed her," Ginny sighed. "Then I could have someone other than you idiots to talk to all summer!"
Hermione wasn't so sure of that. Mrs Weasley certainly made herself available as a maternal figure,which Hermione had overwhelming mixed feelings on. But she also felt a bit like a second thought. Like someone Mrs Weasley felt she should look after, apparently due to lack of a mother, but would happily forget to do so if that sense of duty didn't nag her into doing so. Mrs Weasley would no sooner adopt Hermione than her father would Harry. She was simply a second motherless child to be forced on her by her children, and one without Harry's talents or likeability.
Are you done with the pity party, little idiot? she chastised herself. "I don't know what you overheard," Hermione sighed. "But I'm no worse off for my father having raised me on his own."
"Are you sure about that?" a voice said from behind them.
Not really, but as far as you know I am, Hermione thought as she turned to see Harry adjusting his glasses and smiling awkwardly. "You're the worst, Harry."
"I know," he shrugged.
"Arse," Hermione rolled her eyes and smirked.
"Know-it-all," Harry replied.
The lot of them broke into laughter before Ron loudly groaned "Let's find a compartment, shall we?"
Fred and George broke off when they spotted Lee Jordan, leaving Harry, Ron, Ginny and Hermione to wonder for a compartment. Hermione wondered for a moment if they might find Luna and Neville around, but her pondering was cut off by the serious expression on Harry's face. Now that she thought of it, even when they were joking around a moment ago, he didn't seem all there.
"Is everything alright, Harry?" she whispered.
"No," he said. "I'll tell you as soon as the three of us are alone."
"Go away, Ginny," Ron jerked his thumb in the opposite direction.
"But-" Ginny looked at Hermione, perhaps hoping for a defence.
Hermione dug her nails into her hands and bit her lip. In truth, she thought Ginny should respect Harry's wish for the three of them to speak in private, but she also thought Ron was being a complete prat about it. She wondered if he had any respect for girls. Hermione searched for ways to say this exact thought without inviting a shouting match or insult, but as she was looking for words that would shut both avenues down without hurting either party too much Ginny spoke.
"You're an arse, Ron," Ginny snapped before stalking off.
Hermione had the sneaking suspicion maintaining a friendship with both siblings was going to prove difficult.
Resent your father as much as you want, but he would have spoke his mind long before now...
Hermione peaked into the next compartment and still had no luck. The next one was not empty as well. Though instead of being full, there was on dosing, thin man with pale skin and greying brown hair. Or she hoped he was dosing. The man clutched a small trunk to his core like a child with a comfort toy or blanket. He seemed, oddly familiar. She couldn't be sure though. He wore old, faded robes, too lose for his thin frame with patches sewn here or there. Where did she see-the man on the cliff?
Please, please be him, she pleaded silently. If it was him, then he didn't jump. If it was him she didn't abandon someone who needed her-okay not her, but someone. She wasn't quite sure, but she hope gnawed at her. Though, if she was wrong, that was dangerous.
"This might be the best we got," Hermione whispered.
"Who do you reckon he is?" Ron asked.
Hermione slipped off her shoes and crept toward the hunched over man. She noted the familiar peeling lettering on the scuffed-up trunk, and without getting too close, crouched to examine the man's face.
Her heart nearly leapt. The pale, thin man was the man on the cliff. He had the same cheekbones, pointed nose and sharp chin, the same grey cast to his pale skin, and though his eyes were closed, they seemed to be the same shape. He didn't jump! Relief from a month of self-torment flooded her brain and the hope was no longer dangerous, but justified. He was fine. He didn't jump. He didn't jump and she didn't-he was fine! Well, alive.
She softly landed before him as she let out a huge breath.
"Are you okay?" Ron asked helping her up. "He's not dead is he?"
"No," Hermione breathed. "He's just sleeping. Quite solidly, it looks," she squinted to read the peeling, faded lettering on his trunk. "His name's Remus John Lupin-or according to his trunk anyway." Wait? That Remus Lupin...would he still be friends with...no, Dumbledore wouldn't-because he's made such good hiring choices in the past!
"Hermione?" Harry asked. "You're sure you're okay?"
Hermione rose to her feet and turned to face her friends, casting one errant glance in Lupin's direction. At least he didn't jump. "I'm fine."
"Good," Harry said leading them to the opposite bench. "We need to talk about Sirius Black."
Harry told them what Mr Weasley said to him. Sirius Black was, indeed, after Harry. Or according to Mr Weasley he was. Hermione felt bad that the only reason Mrs Weasley agreed to let Mr Weasley tell him was because Harry had overheard them arguing about it.
"He didn't say whether or not Black was friends with Dad though," Harry admitted. "Suspected ties with Voldemort-Seriously, Ron?"
Ron whimpered at the casual throwing around of Voldemort's name. Hermione's reaction wasn't so overt, but she'd forever remember being five-years-old and her father grasping her shoulders with shaking hands YOU MUST NOT SAY THE DARK LORD'S NAME! The fear in his eyes while he said that-Harry might judge them for being cowards, but children raised by wizards were conditioned to fear the name, some as soon as they were old enough to string syllables together. Things that happen when you're that young...at least that image of her father shouting in fear stuck with her.
"Why did you think he was friends with my dad anyway?" Harry asked.
"Because," Hermione inhaled. "I renewed disciplinary files from when Black and our fathers would have been in school. Black and your father's name appeared together. A lot." She then pointed to the slumbering man. "And his. I would be very careful. I think it's entirely possible the three were mates in school and had a falling out before they grew up. It's really common." Or Black was too far gone and they realised it too late.
"No one's going to touch Harry, Hermione," Ron declared. "Not while we're with him. Or under Dumbledore."
"Because Harry's been so fucking safe before under Dumbledore's care!" Hermione hissed. "Just watch your back, Harry. If you can stay out of trouble, I'll tell you everything I find out."
"You know I don't go looking for trouble," Harry said. "It just finds me."
"Harry will be fine," Ron sighed. "Won't you mate?"
"Don't plan on being anything else," Harry shrugged.
"So, we're just going to ignore we're sharing a compartment with a potential friend of Black's?" Hermione said, eyeing the man. He seemed so nice in Japan. He's probably not still friends with him. I'll have to keep an eye on him.
"You just said that people don't always stay friends with their school mates, Hermione," Ron groaned. "Do you know how to relax? If so, you really should."
"But-"
"Listen, Hermione," Harry said. "Dumbledore has always kept us safe. Even after things happened. He came through before anything could happen. I don't reckon he would hire someone whose fixing to kill his students."
"But Quirell-"
"Hermione," Harry said. ""Listen to me, please."
"I'm listening," Hermione sighed.
"You told me I was in danger, and I'm not fixing to do myself in. And I trust Dumbledore not to put me in danger. After everything, you should too."
"So," Ron said after an awkward silence. "I can't wait to go to Hogsmede. They have all sorts of different sweet shops, and there are these floating sorbets and there's this pub students are allowed in that serves butter beer. Oh, and Fred and George told me about this joke shop where you can go and-" Ron looked at both Harry and Hermione, who were staring at their feet. "Erm, you know Hermione, Hogsmede is the only all-wizarding settlement in Britain, and is rumoured to be the most haunted. Even you could get behind that. And, Harry, aren't you excited to go?"
"I couldn't get my uncle to sign the permission form," Harry grumbled, cradling his chin in his hands.
He looked so sad, but Hermione bit her lip. She thought she had a way to fix this. She held out her hand and resigned herself to lonley weekends. Harry and Ron would be happy getting up to whatever mischeif in Hogsmede. That would be good enough. "Give it here. Have they ever seen your uncle's signature before? Do you have anything with his writing?"
"I forgot you were good with a quill!" Ron whispered. "You're a genius, Hermione!"
"Here's the slip," Harry handed it to her. "How'd that spell you taught me go again? Oh! Accio Christmas letter."
Hermione took what Harry so generously called a 'letter' and started studying the slant, shape and flow of Vernon Dursley's writing. Though the content made stung. If Hermione had ever felt unwanted, her father had done a much better job at hiding it than the man who asked his nephew if it was possible for him to stay over the summer holidays as well. Did the Dursley's not care at all about Harry's well-being? She set up her inkwell and quill ready to forge Vernon's signature when she a realisation came upon her.
"I'm so sorry, Harry," Hermione bit her lip and clasped her hands. "If Sirius Black is after you, then being out in the village might not be a very good idea. It could be dangerous. I-I can't in good conscience-"
"Good conscience?" Ron scoffed. "Harry will be the only one in our year who can't go."
"No, he won't," Hermione shook her head.
"Oh, really?" Ron snorted. "Who else then?"
Hermione turned to Ron and raised an eyebrow. "Me."
"What, why?"
Hermione cleared her throat and lowered her pitch as much as she could. "'You must be mad if you think I'm letting my little girl traipse around the village unsupervised while that maniac is on the loose.' Or something to that effect."
"That sounds just like him," Harry laughed.
"I know, right?" Hermione said.
"If you're upset about it why don't you just forge his signature?" Ron challenged. "Or can you not do that in 'good conscience' either?"
"Now, why wouldn't I forge my father's signature to leave school property on a regular basis when he's a teacher at said school?" Hermione said. "Gee, I wonder!"
"It was just a question," Ron groaned. "You sound like Snape."
"Oh, that's-"
"I really wish you two would stop!" Harry groaned. "Hermione, listen, I-"
Harry was cut off by a sudden squeal of the train as it jolted to a full stop, lurching all three forward.
"We can't be there yet," Hermione mused.
"Then why'd we stop?" Harry asked.
"You don't reckon-" Ron swallowed and pointed at the sleeping teacher.
Neither Harry nor Hermione had time to ponder Ron's whispered question when the train was plunged into darkness. A frosty chill filled the air and Hermione could just barely make out puffs of frozen air leaving their mouths. Hermione grabbed her wand when she heard the door slide open and footsteps-two people?-come in.
"Who's there?" she asked.
"Hermione?" Ginny's voice squeaked.
"Ginny?" she asked lighting her wand.
Ginny and Neville peaked inside the door, their faces pale and eyes wide and worried. Puffs of air escaped their lips too as they looked around the cabin.
"Are you okay, Ron?" Ginny asked. "I was looking for you."
"Yeah," Ron nodded.
"Come in," Hermione whispered. "Both of you. Close the door behind you and be quiet."
Ginny and Neville exchanged a look of frightened confusion before squeezing next to Harry and Ron.
Please don't let it be what I think it is, Hermione thought gripping her wand tightly and wishing she still had her cat-vision. The idea of a dementor being anywhere near her again made the blood freeze in her veins, and her heart pounded in her chest. She stood, hand shaking, at the ready. She tried to push the thoughts swirling around her brain, the memory of the dementor attack and the chamber had to be ignored. She at least new she wasn't responsible for the suicide of the man beside her. That alone made it easier to keep the other memories at bay. If for no other reason, she could forgive Dumbledore Lupin's appointment. She could function now, or be as close to functional as she was before the thought crossed her mind.
A wispy silhouette glided across the compartment window, causing the others to gasp. Hermione might have gasped herself if her breath didn't freeze in her throat. The form stopped at the window and placed a skeletal, grey hand on the frosty glass.
Harry and Ron reached for their wands.
"Stay down," Hermione forced the words out in an unauthoritative squeak. Trauma makes people vulnerable and if the dementors had that affect on me, than Harry, Ginny and Neville would be fucked...
Neville clung to Harry, and Ginny to Ron, making it difficult not to do as she said. She caught all four of them staring at the window as the door slowly slid open.
1, 2,3... she shut her eyes and inhaled deeply. She thought of that balmy night out in the bamboo forest. The prematurely opened yellow flower in the starlight, Hiro's warm hands entwined with hers, the flutter of her heart as he lowered his face to hers and his lips gently pressing against hers. It was a bit timid and awkward as hell on both parts, and other kisses were better as they became more sure of themselves, but it was that first sweet, awkward and strangely perfect kiss that filled her with joy. And now, at least when she needed to, with the man on the cliff-Lupin- very much alive, she could delude herself into thinking she a connection like that.
The door slid open fully and Hermione opened her eyes, crying "Expecto Patronum!"
Silver wisps more solidly than Hermione ever produced left her wand and interrupted the black tendrils surrounding the grey, skeletal hand reaching out for them. The thing backed away, not so hurt it would back down, but she managed to repel the single dementor. Unfortunatley, Hermione knew this was no more than a stalemate at best. It became harder to hold that that the longer she kept her spell up-she was hesitant to call the amorphus silver wisps a patronus- to focus on that single happy moment. And she could feel herself growing tired, weaker. The energy that she had to expend to keep the spell up was more than she had anticipated.
"What the-" a familiar hoarse voice said.
Don't take your eyes off the dementor, you know how dangerous it is to let your guard down. That was precisely the wrong thought for Hermione to have as the image of decaying, grey flesh and an unhinged jaw nearing her face invaded her mind. She did know how bad it was to let her guard down because of that... Don't think about that, you stupid little girl. People depend on you, what's wrong with you?
Late blooming Sakura on the breeze, the ocean, the bamboo flower, Hiro's hazel eyes and careless hair. You can do this...Concentrate. Hermione bit her lip so hard she tasted blood and straightened her wand arm. She wasn't going to fail her friends when they needed her. She was done being a victim and a failure. Think of something that makes you truly happy, hold that thought. Erase everything from your mind. Close your eyes. Breathe...1,2,3.
A thud behind her broke that concentration, and the silver wisps grew more transparent as she realised it was one of her friends collapsing. She had already failed one of them. Though she had never really been the picture of stability had she?
"Do you think Sirius Black is hiding under one of our cloaks?" the voice said and brighter, more solid wisps of silver launched at the dementor.
The black tendrils gave way to the silver ones, the black tendrils not just being hit but fading into smoky wisps. The creature seemed frightened of the m-Lupin's spellwork rather than simply repelled as it was by Hermione's. Without delay, the dementor turned, soaring down the corridor. First the warmth returned, then the light, and then the motion.
Hermione turned to see Lupin standing before her, green eyes wide, and beyond him what mattered. more. Ron hoovered over an unconscious Harry, Ginny sat with her knees to her chest in a corner, and Neville buried his head in his lap, covering his dark hair with his hands.
Harry's need seemed greatest. She ignored the man staring at her to kneel next to Harry's side and checked his pulse. He was alive, and the dementor didn't get close enough to-there was no way, right?
"He'll be fine," Lupin knelt on his other side. "Is everyone okay?"
Nods came from everyone, Ginny and Neville whimpered with their nods. Hermione was unsure which to turn her attention to next, Ron didn't leave Harry's side. Hermione saw Lupin approach Neville, whispering something to him, the round faced boy nodded and accepted something from him.
"I-if you hurt him," Hermione hissed in Japanese.
"It's chocolate," Lupin replied gently in Japanese. "You should have some too, komusume. It took a lot out of you."
"I'm fine," she said. She was feeling empty, and weak...like happiness was sucked from her. Again. Always the victim, aren't you?
"For a witch your age to cast a patronus, (to call that a patronus you must think I'll let my guard down if you compliment me!)," Lupin said. "It's very impressive that you held your own as long as you did."
He was sick, but there was an honesty in his features. She didn't feel like he was any less sincere than he was on the cliff, but she couldn't trust him. Neville watched the exchange, nibbling on the chocolate in confusion. Unable to prove the chocolate was anything harmful, Hermione turned to Ginny.
"Are you okay, Ginny?" Hermione asked.
"I-I-" Ginny rose to make eye contact with Hermione and dropped to a whisper. "It was like he was in my head again. Like the chamber..I-oh, Hermione!" Ginny flung her arms around Hermione.
"Harry, it's a trap!" Hermione wasn't ready for that, her mind sent her back to being silenced by Riddle-in Ginny's body- clinging to her. She hoped Ginny didn't notice her muscles tense, or her inhale sharply. It wasn't just Ginny that the encounter left shaken-Hermione didn't want to admit it. She didn't want to be weak...everyone in this compartment had it worse, what right had Hermione to-stop it! Focus on them right now, deal with your shit later.
Ginny released Hermione and returned to burying her face in her knees. Hermione recognised the guilt in her eyes before she disappeared under a veil of flaming red hair.
"Hey," she whispered placing an arm around Ginny. "Remember what your mum said, none of that was your fault."
Ginny nodded but whimpered.
"Here," Lupin offered Ginny chocolate. "It'll helps counteract the dementor's effect."
"Thank you, Professor," Ginny nodded, taking it gingerly.
Hermione eyed Lupin again, hunting for a trace of malice. Once again, she just saw the frail, unhappy but sweet man from the cliff. Not someone who would plot with a mass-murderer to kill a child. Or poison children that weren't his targets. And if any part of her thought he was suicidal, shouldn't she be nicer?
"Wh-what happened?" Harry's voice murmured as he stirred.
"Oh, Harry you missed it!" Ron said. "That thing came in and Professor Lupin woke up, he shot these silver things from his wand and the dementor went away!"
"Your little friend held it off for some time before I even woke up," Lupin reminded him before offering Harry chocolate. "Take it, it'll help."
"Thanks, Professor," Harry nodded taking it, and nibbling cautiously.
"It was pretty bad at first mate," Ron continued.
"Awful, more like," Neville muttered. "As soon as that thing got close, I felt this knot in the pit of my stomach, my heart dropped and I felt-" he trailed off.
"Like you would never feel happy again..." Ginny whispered.
"Yeah," Harry rubbed his arms. "I felt that too. I heard a girl scream, did anyone else?" Harry turned his gaze to the ground when others shook their heads.
They already know you're mad, Hermione rubbed Ginny's back before kneeling beside Harry. "I've encountered dementors before, Harry. And I heard voices from my worst experiences every time."
"But you didn't faint," he grumbled. "You're sick, everything makes you faint."
"I fainted twice," Hermione admitted. "The only reason I didn't here was because I made my father teach me the patronus charm. And that wasn't even good enough to turn it away, as Ron said. Professor Lupin had to. You're not alone. And there's this thing, the worse an experience is, the more traumatic, the more dementors can effect you. And you-well, you've been through horrors we can't imagine."
"Everything she said is very true, Harry," Lupin said.
Harry narrowed his eyes. "How did you know my na-" he touched his forehead. "Oh, right."
"I'd like to know everyone else's names, if I could," Lupin asked helping Harry to his feet.
"Ron Weasley," Ron introduced himself and pointed to Ginny. "And that's my little sister, Ginny."
Ginny gave a weak wave as Hermione returned to sit between her and Neville. She put an arm around Ginny's shoulders and offered Neville her hand.
"Neville Longbottom, sir," he said quietly, squeezing Hermione's hand.
A silence passed between them as Harry and Ron sat on the opposite bench. Lupin took his original seat, probably picking up on Hermione's resistance to be too close to him. She felt bad when he looked away, ashamed, but she didn't trust him. She wanted to, but after what she read, she'd protect her friends if she needed to.
"I don't imagine komusume is your name?" Lupin forced a smile.
"No," Hermione said in English. "It's not."
"Hermione," Ron groaned.
"And komusume may literally mean 'little girl' in Japanese, but it's not something you call a stranger," she explained. "It implies a level of intimacy, like a niece or close friend's daughter, which I am not."
"I didn't know," Lupin explained, his voice even. "But if it made you uncomfortable, I'm very sorry. Is it okay with you if I call you by your first name?"
What?! Hermione's breath caught in her throat. That wasn't-he didn't call her out for the outright disrespect, or brush off her concerns. She'd only met Lupin once before, but he had to be the only grown-up to ever ask if she was okay with something. Her father, Mrs Weasley, every professor-adults just didn't ask if she was okay with their behaviour. Ask if she's okay overall, they did that, her father inquired to others' treatment of her...but this was..he had to be the first adult-no the first person- to express he wanted to earn her trust rather than expect it. What-what was this? She liked it, she hated it...she didn't know if she could trust it.
"Erm," Hermione really wanted to take back her hands to clasp them together, but opted to bit her lip and looked to the ground. "Yessir."