Chapter Text
Everything you say to me
Takes me one step closer to the edge
And I'm about to break
I need a little room to breathe
Cause I'm one step closer to the edge
I'm about to break
(One Step Closer - Linkin Park)
May 12th, 1977
"Sirius, where are you going?" Mia called after him as he stormed up the hill away from the Black Lake.
The moment he took off, Mia turned, trying to find the words to explain to the rest of their friends what caused him to storm away; somehow she could not bring herself to tell them that Sirius was convinced his younger brother was responsible for the botched attempt on Lily's life. Instead, she requested that Remus and Frank escort Lily to the hospital wing so Madam Pomfrey could give her a quick check and make certain she was all right. James tried protesting, but when Lily gave him a scathing look, he backed away with multiple apologies, offering to scan the lake with Peter to retrieve the fallen brooms and any undergarments that surfaced.
"Sirius!" Mia yelled. "Padfoot! Where are you going?"
"To see Dumbledore!" Sirius snapped at her when she finally caught up to him, taking two of her steps to match each of his long strides. "I fucking knew it! I knew that I should have brought Regulus with me to the manor when I escaped Grimmauld Place. It would have technically been kidnapping since he wasn't going to come willingly, but I wasn't of age at the time, so it's not like I'd be sent to Azkaban for it."
"Don't say things like that," Mia said sharply at his casual mention of going to Azkaban. The image of Sirius's mugshot in the Daily Prophet came to mind. She recalled his sunken face, and his long, matted hair; Sirius had looked the perfect mixture of madness and defeat. She clenched her eyes tightly and shook her head side to side as though she could erase the image from her mind like an Etch-a-Sketch.
"If I'd done something right about my brother, he wouldn't be a bloody Death Eater to-be!"
Sirius's volume pulled her from her dark thoughts, and she found herself trying to keep up with him once again, as the two of them burst through the doors into the entrance hall.
"It was him, Mia. I know it was."
Mia also had a strong feeling it had been Regulus. She had spotted a head of black hair ducking out of sight while everyone else was distracted with retrieving Lily from the lake. The only other wizards with hair that black were Sirius and Snape, both of whom had been in her sight at the time.
"He tried to kill Evans," Sirius said, as though he could not quite believe the words as he said them—as though he needed to continually remind himself in order to be able to report his own flesh and blood for attempted murder. "Merlin, if he'd succeeded . . . I'd never be able to live with myself. Never be able to look James in the face again. Fuck! Stupid little prick."
"Don't tell Dumbledore," Mia said as Sirius took a turn toward the headmaster's office.
He spun on his heels, looking at her in complete disbelief. "Are you actually defending my brother's actions? Are you kidding me?"
She forced herself to forget that, at this moment in time, Regulus was a Voldemort supporter and potential Death Eater. It would not be long before he defected.
"Of course not! But first, we don't have actual proof it was Regulus. We only have the knowledge that Death Eaters are accepted at the age of sixteen, and it just happens to be your brother's sixteenth birthday today. If you go to Dumbledore, he'll just nod his head with that twinkle in his eyes, and offer you a sweet."
Sirius would not have a chance to prove anything, especially if Mia went with him. Dumbledore would assume that Mia was trying to change the timeline, and he would ignore their suspicions of Regulus.
No, there had to be another way.
"So, what do you suggest then, Mia?"
She smiled as the answer came to her. "McGonagall."
Minerva McGonagall had been one of her favourite professors in both time lines, though her life here as an unofficial Marauder had changed the dynamic of the relationship she had once shared with the Deputy Headmistress. While Hermione Granger had been an apt pupil, perhaps even a favourite of the older witch, Mia Potter was often considered a troublemaker, and not in the "saving the world with Harry Potter" kind of trouble that she had grown used to.
"Even if we don't have proof it was Regulus, Professor McGonagall is suspicious enough that it'll plant the idea in her head, and she'll keep an eye on him."
Twenty minutes later, Sirius and Mia found themselves sitting in front of Minerva McGonagall, who was staring at them with a mixture of suspicion, relief, and annoyance. Mia had seen the same look tossed across a desk or classroom to Harry, Ron, and even Neville, but she suddenly felt unbelievably guilty for somehow disappointing the professor who had essentially been Hermione's escort into the Wizarding world. She wondered if Minerva thought of Mia as just a spoilt pureblood witch who was wasting her talent. She made a mental note to work hard during her seventh year to prove that she was more than just James Potter's sister. Once Lily became Head Girl, it was not as though Mia needed to hold back for her friend's sake anymore.
"So, I am to believe that Mr Black—a sixteen-year-old boy—jinxed the broom of Miss Evans with the explicit purpose of ending her life. And yet, all this happened in the middle of the day, out in the open, in front of no fewer than eight students?" Minerva raised a sceptical eyebrow as she stared across the desk, looking at Sirius as though he were trying to distract her from something horrible that he had planned.
Merlin, have the boys put this witch so on edge that she can't trust any encounter?
Minerva turned her attention to Mia. "Did you happen to witness young Mr Black at the scene?"
"No, ma'am," Sirius said, answering for Mia, for which she was grateful, not knowing exactly what Dumbledore's Truth Spell would allow her to say, "but Death Eaters are marked when they turn sixteen, and it makes sense that—"
"How would you know what age Death Eaters are recruited at?" McGonagall's eyes widened, sitting up straighter as though preparing to jump to action any moment.
Sirius swallowed hard and avoided her scrutinising gaze. "Because they tried to make me one," he muttered, ignoring the soft gasp Minerva let slip past the tight line of her mouth. "Last summer, I was . . . I was attacked in my own home. I refused and escaped, and that's why I live with the Potters now."
"Was this incident reported?" Minerva asked. "Dear boy, how on earth did you manage to get away?"
Mia's eyes widened only slightly, watching as Sirius nervously toyed with the silver chain that hung around his neck. She quietly hoped that he would not tell the entire truth, considering the creation of unofficial Portkeys—while not technically illegal—was greatly frowned upon.
"Floo was open," he lied. "By the time the Potters got me to St Mungo's, my parents had, apparently, already disowned me. They didn't report me missing, and I didn't want . . . I didn't want to see them again. I'm not sure what Mum and—" Sirius began but paused to correct himself, "—what Mr and Mrs Potter did."
"Aurors were called," Mia chimed in, recalling the memory with little effort, as that particular evening and the following days had imprinted themselves on her subconscious. The sight and smell of Sirius's blood, the burn on his forearm, and the panicked way that the Aurors and hospital staff reacted when she and James turned on them all when they had tried to separate them from Sirius. "The Ministry knows what happened."
"Is Miss Evans all right?" Professor McGonagall asked after a long moment of silence.
Mia nodded. "Yes, Professor. At least, she was well enough minutes after to start screaming at my brother," she said, earning a snort from the Deputy Headmistress.
"As charming as young Mr Potter thinks he is, I believe Miss Evans could find it in her to still berate the boy if unconscious," McGonagall stated primly. "Why was she flying over the lake? It was my understanding that she's not a fan of brooms."
Sirius paled, coughing into his hand. "That's really not important. We need to find Regulus."
"And you are certain this isn't some leftover sibling rivalry?"
"What?!" Sirius's grey eyes darkened, and he stood from his chair.
Mia reached up and took hold of his forearm, trying to pull him back down as the infamous Black temper took control.
"Absolutely not! Let him keep his stupid parents so long as he leaves my friends alone!"
"I understand the subject is of a sensitive and personal nature," Professor McGonagall said quietly, not looking the least bit threatened by the outburst. "But I would request that you lower your tone in my office, young man. Miss Potter, do you have reason to believe that Regulus Black is at fault?"
"Regulus is . . ." Mia began, but the words caught in her throat as she tried to focus her efforts on speaking. Regulus is a Death Eater. Regulus is a Death Eater. Regulus Black will betray the Dark Lord. "I . . . I believe Sirius," she managed to say clearly.
"Very well." the professor sighed, looking both concerned and burdened by the information. Mia wondered what, if anything, Dumbledore had been telling her about potential Death Eaters in the school. "I will report this to Professor Dumbledore and Professor Slughorn. Should young Mr Black display suspicious behaviour, it will be dealt with. In the meantime, I'd suggest you both see yourselves out. If you'd be accommodating, check in on Miss Evans for me."
Mia moved to leave, nodding gratefully to her professor, but Sirius did not seem ready to budge.
"What's going to happen to Regulus?"
"Should something be discovered because of the information you've provided, it will be handled. But not by you," Professor McGonagall insisted. "Your responsibility is to be a student, focus on your work, and—for the love of Godric—try to stay out of trouble. Leave the war to the adults."
"I'm of age," Sirius pointed out.
"That is neither here nor there, Mr Black."
"I want to fight," he added, and Mia growled at the words.
Professor McGonagall narrowed her eyes and scoffed at him. "Do I appear to have a signup sheet recruiting soldiers?"
Mia took hold of Sirius's hand and tugged. "Thank you, Professor. We'll see ourselves out."
"Oh, Mr Black? Miss Potter?" the professor called as the two opened the door to leave.
They each turned back curiously, watching as the corners of her mouth turned up ever so slightly.
"Fifty points each, for your efforts in reviving Miss Evans. Should the moment come for you to prove useful in these dark times, I believe you both to be very capable. Until you leave Hogwarts, however, I would insist that you focus on enjoying the few freedoms left to you."
June 7th, 1977
Annoyed, Sirius followed Minerva's advice to remain an unburdened teenager for as long as possible. Not long after the conference, he, James, Peter, and Remus managed to set off some of Dr Filibuster's Fabulous Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks in the middle of the fourth-floor corridor. The prank earned all four boys detention.
When they had come to see if Mia had seen their grand display, she rolled her eyes and said, "I've seen better," thinking fondly of her original fifth year, when the Weasley twins had so spectacularly escaped from Hogwarts under the suppression of Dolores Umbridge.
While the boys continued to cause trouble, Mia spent every last effort trying to work around the loopholes in Dumbledore's spell. She spent hours focusing on Occlumency, knowing that a skilled Occlumens could overpower Veritaserum—and since the spell was somehow the opposite of the truth serum, she thought it would help.
Despite all her efforts, she was not even able to say the words "My name is Hermione Granger" aloud, let alone warn anyone of the things that were to come. Trying to tailor her efforts to something more specific, Mia found that the Truth Spell prevented her from even writing the word "Horcrux" down.
Powerless to speak the truth about the future, she decided to work hard at proving things she suspected but did not yet know, as Dumbledore had advised her when he explained the Truth Spell. She spent an entire month moving through the halls of Hogwarts, her nose buried in parchment, and fingers stained with ink. Dark shadows formed under her eyes as sleep began to elude her again. If Voldemort was recruiting Death Eaters at Hogwarts, then Snape and Regulus could not be the only ones. Certainly, if she spied on the other Slytherins long enough, she would stumble upon new information, and that she could bring to the headmaster.
Unfortunately, her efforts were proving fruitless as not a single serpent showed a hint of a Dark Mark, even in the privacy of their own common room. Mia had gained access there thanks to James's Invisibility Cloak and an extremely loud second year Slytherin, who shouted the password before slipping into the snake pit.
What she watched under the protection of the Hallowed Cloak was nothing to write home about: Regulus bore no Dark Mark on his arm, nor did he indicate that one would come anytime soon. He and Snape barely ever crossed paths anymore; when they did, it often resulted in a mild confrontation. It was clear the two Slytherins had exchanged their youthful alliance for a bitter animosity, which Mia could only assume had to do with Regulus's choice to attack a particular Muggle-born that Snape still held regard for. Either way, neither boy spoke a word to the other about it, nor did they say anything in reference to Voldemort or other known Death Eaters.
Her poor eating habits and lack of sleep began to rival those of her first experience in using a Time-Turner during her original third year. She was stretched to the breaking point; exhausted and suffering from all her efforts to change the future. Few asked her about it aside from occasionally questioning how she was sleeping and if she had eaten anything that day. Remus was hovering more than usual, despite her efforts to get some space from him and everyone else in Gryffindor Tower.
Early June found Mia at the Astronomy Tower, gazing up at the stars in a daze. A cool breeze soothed the skin around her eyes that had become sore from rubbing away the exhaustion. Leaning against the rail, she glanced straight down to the ground several hundred feet below.
Curiously, she looked at her right forearm where a new triangular-shaped scar sat on her skin, shiny and white. She scratched at the mark, bitterly recalling how stupid she had felt when she received it during her original sixth year. A stray hex courtesy of Death Eaters in the castle that had been let in by Draco. Dumbledore was dead, but no one had known that yet, so they fought on—she, Ron, Luna, and Ginny—side by side with the Order of the Phoenix.
The hex hit her from around a corner; had the older Remus Lupin not knocked her to the side, it would have struck her in the chest instead of her forearm where the scar now sat permanently. Unable to spare a moment to acknowledge the fact she had almost been killed, Death Eaters descended upon them all. Shortly after, everyone was too busy trying to get an injured Bill Weasley to the hospital wing, so Hermione postponed taking care of her own injuries. By the time she was able to reflect on the day's event, she concluded she needed this scar to remind her what happened in the war, and how she had almost lost her life to Death Eaters—again.
The scar was a reminder of Moody's words: Constant Vigilance.
"You know," Remus called to her from the door of the tower. Mia turned around in surprise at his sudden appearance. "It's after curfew, and as the honourable and constantly rule-abiding prefect I am, I should have no problem taking away points from you, Miss Potter."
Mia snorted, turning back and resting her forearms on the railing as she stared up at the sky. "Taking points away on my account won't even be noticed at this point. Sometimes, I think Jamie and Sirius are purposely trying to lose the House Cup every year, just for the sake of continuity." She smiled softly as she felt Remus's arms winding their way gently around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder.
"Hey, Peter and I do our part," he said, sounding offended, "but I think you're right. Winning the Quidditch Cup but losing the House Cup is tradition now. Who are we to put an end to it?"
Mia turned and smiled sweetly at him. "You're especially cute when you're sarcastic. Did you know?"
"I did know that." Remus grinned, and Mia felt a warmth in her heart at the sight, wishing he could always be this confident. "However, I like to keep you around to remind me from time to time, in case I ever forget. You going to tell me why you're up here?"
"Needed some peace and quiet. Can't find that anywhere else."
"Are you ever going to tell me what's wrong?" Remus asked with an irritated sigh; clearly, the past month had been wearing down on him more than he had let on. Suddenly, that confidence he so recently displayed was gone. "You've been . . . I don't know, distant all month. Have I done something wrong?"
Guilt dropped into the pit of Mia's stomach. "No, absolutely not. It has nothing to do with you. I just need to work some things out in my head. I've been distracted."
"I've noticed," he answered worriedly. "Unfortunately, so has everyone else. Lily's blaming herself for whatever's going on with you. She thinks that her near-death experience traumatised you, and now you've pulled away from everyone."
Mia sighed in frustration. "I have not. And it has nothing to do with Lily. I've just been . . . worried about N.E.W.T.s next year."
Remus frowned and narrowed his eyes at her as though he knew she was not being truthful. Maybe he did know. She had never bothered to ask if his lupine senses could pick up varied heart beats indicating lies. "I see. Are you planning on taking Advanced Slytherin next year as an elective?"
"What?"
"You have a list that you keep in your robes with names of Slytherins." He stepped back from her, folding his arms across his chest. "Current students and even some that have graduated, like Lucius Malfoy."
"You went through my stuff? How could you?" Mia snapped viciously, the lack of sleep and stress adding to her already irritable state.
"Of course I didn't!" He stared at her, an offended scowl marring his beautiful face in reaction to her accusation. "Lily saw it on your desk this morning and thought you were either planning some elaborate prank or that you were hell bent on revenge. Either way, she thought it would be smart to tell me and see if I could talk you out of whatever crazy plans you've concocted."
Mia grimaced and muttered "Shit," under her breath.
"Care to let me in on whatever it is you're hiding? And maybe take that 'Fuck you, Remus' look off your face in the process?" he said sharply.
"It's none of your business what I'm doing!" Mia snarled defensively.
"No, you're right. It's not like I'm your boyfriend or anything," he said sarcastically. "Though, to be fair, I barely see you anymore other than at breakfast and in class, so who knows what you're thinking these days."
"Merlin, is that what this is about?" Mia rolled her eyes. "That I've been too distracted to shag you for a few weeks?"
Remus's face turned quickly from anger to shock, and his mouth fell open. "Excuse me?"
"Shit." Mia winced, realising her mistake the moment the words left her mouth. Unfortunately, she had no way to retrieve them. "Remus, I didn't mean—"
Remus gaped at her in hurt disbelief. "You really think my concern for your well-being is because we haven't had sex lately?"
"I didn't mean that." She frowned, feeling horrible for her accusation. "I just snapped, and I'm sorry . . . I haven't been sleeping well and—"
"Then take care of yourself!" He growled at her, whatever sympathy existed previously long gone. "Merlin knows you're not letting anyone else do it for you lately."
His voice deepened, and his eyes briefly flashed gold. Instinctively, Mia's own eyes turned skyward where she quickly noted the waning moon in the sky. Before she could bring her eyes back to look at Remus's face, she heard him inhale sharply.
"Did you just . . . ? Are you checking to see what stage the moon is in?" He stared at her. "Are you joking? Please, tell me you're joking."
"I just think you're being a little temperamental," she mumbled.
"Right," Remus scoffed, his nostrils flaring. "So, that must mean that my anger is irrational and unjustified. I'm just a moon's glance away from snapping at any moment, right? I can't just be worried about you. No, the monster in me must be on edge."
Flinching at his self-deprecation, Mia shook her head. "Don't put words in my mouth, Remus."
"Since when do you even need to look to tell when the moon's coming?" he asked her, gesturing to the sky. "You've had the dates for each full moon over the next decade memorised since we were eleven."
"I . . . I just . . ." She closed her eyes and put her fingers against her temples. Lack of sleep mixed with heightened emotions and his increased voice volume was not helping her thought process.
"Mia, what day is today?"
"I . . . Sunday?"
"The date, Mia, the date," he specified, waiting for her to reply. When she took too long to answer, he groaned and ran a frustrated hand through his sandy blond hair. "Merlin, you don't even know?"
She sighed. "I told you I haven't been sleeping well."
"Why?" he asked, suddenly back to looking worried. "Are you having nightmares again?"
"No, I just—"
"What's the list for, Mia? I let you keep all of my secrets; don't you think it's only fair that you trust me enough to keep some of yours?"
"I trust you more than anyone, Remus."
"Prove it then! What are you up to?"
"I'm spying on the Slytherins to see which of them are Death Eaters!" she snapped, blurting out the one thing that she had not planned on telling him.
He gawked at her, his eyes back to green. Somehow, despite the colour shift, his gaze looked much more intimidating than when she saw the wolf reflected in his golden stare. "What did you just say?"
She frowned, watching as his look of shock and worry turned to foreboding. "I . . . I take Jamie's cloak every night, and I sneak into the Slytherin common room and listen . . . and look for the Dark Mark. That's what the list is for."
Remus pinched the bridge of his nose, looking more frustrated with her than he had ever looked when dealing with James, Sirius, and Peter. "Why . . . Why would you do something like that? Mia, what if there really are Death Eaters down there?"
"Then I'll find the proof I need," she answered indignantly. It was not as though she had not fought Death Eaters before. Then again, Remus did not know that.
"If you're suspicious that there are actual Death Eaters in Hogwarts, then go and tell Professor Dumbledore!" he yelled, his voice echoing in the circular stone tower.
"I can't! He won't listen to me! I have to do this on my own," she tried to explain, hoping that Remus would just give up and let her have this. Let her try and do this for the rest of them. "They tried to kill Lily. They tried to kill Sirius and Jamie. If they try for you next, Remus, I . . ." Mia said, her breath becoming short and heavy, her chest tightening at the mere thought of Death Eaters coming for Remus. It made her see red, and she could feel her magic rolling beneath her skin like an electrical current.
"I have to stop them, Remus. It's my job. I can't waste the chance . . . Time's running out, and they're going to just get away with everything." She breathed in slow and deep, not even noticing that he had stepped forward to run his hands up and down her arms, trying to calm her down from her mild panic attack.
"Mia, what's this?" Remus soft voice broke the momentary silence as his large fingers gently ran across the new disfigurement on her arm.
"What?"
"This scar, it's new," he said, touching it carefully.
"I-I . . ." I got it when you saved my life from Death Eaters. Right here, right outside this room where Dumbledore was killed. "I don't know."
"Don't lie to me." He frowned, waiting for her to tell him the truth. When she only averted her gaze, he exhaled and shook his head, stepping away from her grasp. "Nothing? You're not even going to say a word to me? Fine. I'll . . . I'll see you." He turned toward the door. "I'll just see you later. My rounds are over, and I'm going to bed."
"Remus!" Mia called after him, tears beginning to sting her eyes.
"Goodnight, Mia," he said sharply, vanishing down the staircase without looking back.
"Hermione?"
Hermione jumped at the sound of Professor Lupin's voice, and she turned to watch as he walked through the broken pieces of rubble that had yet to be cleared away from the entrance of the Astronomy Tower. Prior to his arrival, she had been leaning against the railing, her tear-filled eyes staring downward at the ground several hundred feet below.
"Remus!" Hermione took in a breath, cringing a bit. She still was not used to calling him by his first name, but he had insisted on it repeatedly. "You startled me."
"Forgive me," he said with a frown, hands shoved into the pockets of his shabby, second-hand robes as he slowly approached her. "I didn't think anyone would be up here. I didn't think anyone would want to be up here, not for a while at least."
"I couldn't sleep."
"Nightmares?" he asked, his brow furrowed; it was a look that made Hermione think he might actually be worried about her.
"What? No." She shook her head, wiping away a stray tear as it fell against her cheek. "I've just been thinking about Professor Dumbledore, and well, everything I suppose. I just can't believe that Professor Snape . . . I mean, I know he did it. Harry wouldn't lie about that. It's just hard to imagine."
Remus nodded as he joined her by the railing, leaning his forearms against the metal. "I know what you mean. I've been doubting myself for years over everything I once believed. For twelve years, I thought Sirius was responsible for James and Lily's deaths, and now a man I trusted, because Albus Dumbledore asked me to, is a . . . I don't even know if we can call him a traitor. I have to wonder if he was ever loyal to our cause."
"Was he always this bad?" Hermione asked him. "You went to school with him."
"Went to school with a lot of Death Eaters," he said, letting a frustrated scowl pass his generally stoic face. "Of course, we didn't exactly know it at the time."
"Were you ever suspicious?" she asked, taking note of the fact that he avoided looking her in the eye when he nodded his head, looking ashamed.
"Some of us were."
"I'm sorry." Hermione sighed. "I know it must be painful to talk about the past. What with losing—"
"Everyone?"
Hermione's heart broke for the man who had indeed lost nearly everyone he ever loved. She did not know much about his family, but considering the state he always looked to be in, it did not appear he had any left. If he did, they were not very good at taking care of him. The only family he would have likely claimed for his own had been ripped away from him one by one by Voldemort and Death Eaters: Harry's parents, Peter Pettigrew, Sirius, and now Professor Dumbledore.
"What's going to happen now?" she asked, trying to change the subject from past to present.
"There's the funeral I suppose." He shrugged his shoulders. "And then the Order needs to find a new headquarters because Grimmauld Place has been—"
"I'm sorry, Remus," Hermione interrupted him. "I actually meant . . . what's going to happen with you? I know Profe—Snape was the one who brewed your Wolfsbane Potion. Is there another Potions Master who could help?"
Despite the severe topic at hand, he turned and smiled at her. For some reason, it made her feel guilty, like she was not living up to some strange expectation or that he knew something she was supposed to understand without being told.
"No, unfortunately not," he answered. "Perhaps you could give it a try."
"Me? You put too much faith in me, Remus," she said, shaking her head. "I'm not anywhere near talented enough to brew such an advanced potion. I'd be terrified of hurting you."
He smiled sweetly at her. "I won't put that pressure on you. It's not your responsibility. For the record, I don't put too much faith in you; I have just enough faith in you and your talents, Hermione," he said as he stepped closer to her, looking as though he wanted to put a comforting hand on her shoulder, but he stopped and ran it through his greying hair instead.
"I'll be fine, though. It won't be the first full moon I've gone without the potion. Just the first in a . . . a very long time."
"Will Tonks make it easier?" Hermione asked and watched with mild amusement as a wide-eyed Remus gaped at the mention of the young Auror.
"What?"
"I'm sorry." She could not help but smile at his flustered expression. "I don't mean to pry, but after the umm . . . umm . . ."
He raised an unamused brow. "Spectacle in the hospital wing?"
"Yes. Well, I assume she's your mate?"
"How would you know that?"
"Books?" She shrugged her shoulders and laughed softly, though her answer was anything but a joke. "I once wrote a very interesting essay about werewolves, you see, and only in my third year. Two rolls of parchment worth."
"Three," Remus corrected, smirking. "I read every word you wrote, you know. I imagine then, in addition to being able to recognise a werewolf, you learned how a werewolf recognises its mate?"
Her smile faded into a frown. "You told Tonks that you were too dangerous for her."
"Also, that I was too old and too poor," he reminded her.
"Excuses," she insisted, and Remus reacted with a look of surprise. Hermione could not deny that she had clearly nailed it on the head with her answer. "You're not a very good liar, you know."
Remus chuckled. "Not many Gryffindors are."
"The safety of a mate is a werewolf's primary instinct," she said, as though quoting a book. "It goes above and beyond that of the need to hunt, even."
"Rivalled only by the need to protect one's pack." Remus frowned and turned from her, leaning against the rail to her side as he stared out at the open, black sky, watching the approaching waxing moon with interest.
"Do you have a pack?" Hermione asked.
"I did." Remus nodded. "Once."
"And you lost them." Hermione sighed in understanding. "Is that why you tried to push Tonks away? Because you're afraid of losing someone else?"
"For someone so against Divination, you have quite the skill for it."
Hermione blushed at the way he looked at her. As if he were trying to share with her some inside joke to which she had not been made privy. "No, I just have eyes," she teased him. "I know my opinion doesn't matter."
"You'd be surprised, Hermione." The genuine look in his eyes caught her off guard. "You're a friend." Hermione smiled at the word, grateful that a man she respected so much no longer thought of her as a swotty little know-it-all child. "And your opinion matters a great deal to me."
"I . . . well . . ." She blushed again, her face heating up at his words of praise and familiarity. "I think you should be with your mate. Professor McGonagall is right; Dumbledore would have been happier than anybody to think there was a little more love in the world. How long have you known that Tonks is—?"
"Longer than I feel appropriate to mention aloud." Remus groaned in embarrassment, his eyes turning away from her face to fall on a large wound on her arm. His brows furrowed in what looked like recognition. "Hermione, are you all right? Let me see your arm."
"It's nothing," Hermione insisted. "Stray hex. Had you not been there, I'm sure it would have been worse."
"Did this happen in the battle? Why wasn't it treated?"
"I cleaned it myself," she replied. "It'll heal naturally."
He gestured to the door. "Madam Pomfrey should have some Dittany back in the infirmary."
"No. I . . . I need it to scar." She pulled her arm away from him, nervously picking at the healing wound. "I need to remember. I need to always be able to look down and remember Professor Dumbledore, and . . . and Snape. I need to remember to always be on guard. Remember that not everyone can be trusted. Remember that Hogwarts isn't always safe."
His gaze was intense, and she could not help but feel like he was pitying her, something that made her grimace in response.
"I should head back to the hospital wing. I want to check on Bill and make sure he recovers well."
Hermione smiled. "He's lucky to have you there for him. Maybe you could rebuild your pack. Tonks and Bill."
"Maybe." Remus nodded slowly, a sad smile crossing his features. "In the meantime, there's a war to fight."
"You shouldn't wait," Hermione blurted out. "You should . . . You should let Tonks take care of you. And you her."
"I'll make you a deal, Hermione. I will think about taking care of Tonks, and even . . . letting her take care of me—" He looked displeased with the idea. "—if you promise to take care of yourself," he said and then added, "and Harry," as a quick afterthought.
"Those two things are often mutually exclusive," she said with a smirk, and Remus laughed.
"If anyone can figure out how to balance the two, it would be you, Hermione." He leant forward and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tightly against his chest in a hug.
Hermione breathed in the scent of him, her magic relaxing under his comforting touch. She smiled curiously, wondering how a gesture so unfamiliar could feel like . . . home.