Stirrings of Trouble




The summer had begun in a macabre and sullen fashion. All those who had been involved in the terrible occurrence at the Ministry of Magic, were - to say the least - somewhat dazed and still reeling from the events. Hermione and Ron had spent little more than a week at the Burrow when they were informed that they would be spending the rest of the summer at Grimmauld Place. They were excited and apprehensive at the same time. Although it would be exciting to see the rest of the Order again, they were anxious about seeing Harry after all that had happened. Ron had warmed to Sirius just as much as Hermione had, and it was heart-rending to have lost him. At least they knew they both had their parents to turn to, but not Harry. Not Harry, who had lost so much last year. They didn’t know how he was going to be, but they were going to be there for him, as always, no matter what.


They quickly wrote letters of encouragement to Harry about meeting up at Grimmauld Place. Neither of them could see Harry turning such an offer down...but they were worried nonetheless. They sent their messages by Owl, knowing Harry would have them relatively quickly. Of course, they never mentioned where or when, just in case the owls were intercepted.


When they went to pick up Harry, there was an air of excitement in the Weasley family. Of course, every now and then Molly would say Harry’s name and go glassy eyed, mumbling “that poor, poor boy.� She hadn’t always seen eye to eye with Sirius really, but she never wanted anything to happen to the brash young man. He may have been impatient and eager to go, but Molly couldn’t help but to look at her own sons, even Percy, and think of what may happen to them. At that, she would leave the group and compose herself until ready to converse again, which usually took about five minutes.

They had managed to get some Muggle transportation via the Ministry this year. They had been much more accepting of things to do with Harry than they had last year. It was a squeeze but they all managed to fit in, and dropping by Privet Drive had been relatively easy. More than it should have been, considering there were at least two members of the Order per car. Everybody had wanted in on Tonks’ car and was less than eager to get in the car with Mad-Eye Moody. He was wearing that strange bowler hat that made him bizarrely respectable and outcast at the same time.


They found Harry at the end of Privet Drive. His aunt and uncle did not want to draw attention to the fact that Harry was leaving or who may be picking him up. Everyone was relieved to see him, of course, and Molly could not control the hugs she gave Harry when she first saw him. Harry went pink from the attention, but didn’t withdraw from it; as much as he disliked being coddled, he loved it at the same time. Harry looked from car to car hoping to see Professor Lupin, but he wasn’t there, so he got into the nearest car.

The next surprise was that they took a Portkey from the cars to Grimmauld Place. Hermione started to ask what was happening, but was shushed by Arthur Weasley who explained with a knowing smile, that their luggage would be coming after them. They all Portkeyed into Grimmauld Place and found themselves in the basement. It had never been nice down there, but it had been cleaned and thoroughly disinfected, much to everyone’s approval.


Hermione had noticed immediately that Harry had put on his brave face. She wanted to reach over and give him a small touch or reassurance, but she was frightened that it would be too much for him. She followed as they all piled into the kitchen, where Molly stood for a moment, looking at Harry before breaking from her reverie and putting the kettle on the stove. It was uncomfortable for a few moments because no one looked at Harry, but wanted to all the same.


It was not lost on Harry who commented quietly, “I think Sirius would have liked the colour in here.�

Tonks beamed with pride at this point and informed Harry, “Yeah, me and Remus did in here, and Molly did most of the rest of the house.�

Molly glowed red and said, “Yes, well I had help too, mostly from Remus and Alastor.� She seemed pleased though, to be acknowledged for all her hard work. Harry smiled at her and she momentarily couldn’t speak; when she found her voice she said, “Tea, anyone?� Everyone nodded.


*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


Hermione couldn’t help noticing that there were a few people missing from the house. She knew that they were most likely on Order business, but she still couldn’t account for some of the disappearances, for instance, where was Kreacher? She was a tiny bit worried about what had happened to him, although she knew that he had been the ultimate traitor. In addition, there had been two Order meetings in the last three days and yet there had been no Dumbledore, no Snape, no Lupin, and no McGonagall. Hermione, being a smart witch, could see that at least two of these people were crucial to the meetings.


The next morning Hermione took it upon herself to ask Tonks, who was dozing over a cup of coffee, where everyone was, including Kreacher. “Tonks, would you mind if I asked you something; I have been wondering what happened to Kreacher? “ Tonks winced at the mention of Kreacher and looked as though she were about to speak when a dark figure loomed over them both. Snape stood above them holding his own tea; Hermione couldn’t help thinking a giant vampire bat had landed.


Snape sneered and looked down at them, “I would have thought it was obvious what had happened to that loathsome creature, Miss Granger. He will not be revealing the secrets of the Order anymore.� Hermione looked shocked, but a tiny part of her brain had already accepted that this might be the case. A larger part of her brain was horrified too, because that made someone a murderer.


Snape saw the dawning understanding in her eyes and felt a small amount of pity for her, but that was quickly washed aside with anger. “That foul little beast led to the direct death of one of the Order. Its imminent demise was the best it could have hoped for. I, for one, am glad it is no longer roaming these halls; its betrayal was the worst kind. Though I am sure Sirius would have understood what betrayal is all about.�

Hermione’s eyes widened at what Professor Snape had just said, and apparently so did Tonks, because he stopped sneering and stalked out of the kitchen. How could he talk about Sirius like that? Hermione shook her head; it was too hard to imagine Snape caring for anyone, but she thought at least he could be civil about Sirius now he was dead; apparently not. Tonks seemed to feel the same, as she was shaking her head in disbelief at him.

Hermione temporarily forgot that she had wanted to ask about Dumbledore and the others. Snape had thrown her a little and she hadn’t wasted any time in telling Harry what he said. Harry took it quite well, with a small shrug of his shoulders, as though it were no great surprise that Snape had badmouthed Sirius. Hermione was glad that Harry had taken it well, though there seemed to be a small amount of worry around his eyes for a little while.


It was some days later that Hermione noticed that Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Lupin still hadn’t been to Headquarters. It seemed especially strange as the others, like Tonks, kept hinting that they would be through the door any time soon. This didn’t keep Hermione from worrying about them. Even without the others saying anything, she knew from the quiet whispers and the stopped conversations whenever she, Harry or Ron were in the room, that something was amiss. She just hoped that it wasn’t anything serious.


*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*



Hermione had noted that Snape had been hanging around a lot more than he normally would have. He spent his time between the kitchen and the living room skulking and sneering at all those who entered. It bothered her, Ron and Harry so much that they were nearly always in the room that he wasn’t in. Snape seemed to be grateful of this fact and mostly left them alone. It didn’t stop them wondering what on earth Snape was doing there.


It wasn’t until they had been there for ten days that they heard Dumbledore and McGonagall in the middle of the night. They had, of course, been chatting into the night and had subsequently heard them downstairs. Hermione had opened her bedroom door and she and Ginny were listening to the row downstairs, Professor McGonagall seemed to be hysterical and was shouting loudly.


Hermione could not resist knowing what was going on and left her bedroom, ignoring Ginny’s low warning, “Don’t be stupid, Hermione, you're going to get caught.� Ginny remained where she was, although every now and then she hissed cautionary things at Hermione’s retreating back, clearly concerned for her friend.


Hermione made her way down the stairs and at some point became aware that she was still wearing her pyjamas; she felt underdressed and vulnerable, but she still was too curious to turn back. She realised as she crept down the stairs that she hadn't even thought to bring her wand; now she really did feel vulnerable. She reached the bottom of the stairs and made her way to the kitchen where most of the fuss seemed to be coming from; she opened the door and nearly screamed. There was a horrific scene before her, on the table was Professor Lupin, bleeding heavily from wounds on his chest. Around him were Professors McGonagall, Dumbledore, Snape, and Mr. Weasley, who were trying to help him. Lupin was pale beyond white and his eyes had rolled back into his head.


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Chapter Two - In Old Wounds



Hermione’s breath caught in her throat and she fought to breathe. She clapped her hand over her mouth in horror, and thought, “Is he dead?� She watched as Arthur Weasley tended to the vicious wounds on his chest, keeping the pressure up and trying to stop the wounds bleeding too much. Snape had a bottle of some viscous potion and he was trying to daub it on to some of the heavier wounds. McGonagall was wiping Lupin’s face with a damp cloth, which had turned pink.


It was at this point in her rising panic that Hermione noticed two things. Dumbledore had stood back from the group and he had his wand out, his face etched with concern and something else, there was hardness there, no gleam, and had his wand pointed at Lupin. The second thing was that Lupin’s hands were covered in blood. Hermione couldn’t move, she was frozen rigid to the spot and no one seemed to have noticed she was there.


It was just then that Lupin started to convulse, first his limbs went rigid and shook and then they started to flail around so violently that Snape had to put the potion down and pin Lupin’s arms to the table. Arthur Weasley stopped trying to hold the bandages on and had to lean down upon Lupin’s legs almost lying upon them with all his weight, which was needed, given the violence of his convulsions. McGonagall was trying to stop Lupin from smacking his head up and down on the table, and Hermione saw that he had awful scratches on his face.


Hermione gasped aloud and Dumbledore turned sharply in her direction, his eyes looking hawk like and searching, but instead of sending her away he said, “Miss Granger, I’d advise you not to get any closer and stay where you are, do you understand?� The tone of his voice left no doubt as to how serious this situation was. His eyes became slightly softer and searched her face for some sign that she comprehended what he had just said.


“Y-yes...I understand,� Hermione responded with a small whisper and saw that what she had said was enough to convince Dumbledore she would stay put. Dumbledore refocused on Lupin.


A loud crash whipped Hermione’s attention back to the table and she saw that Snape had been thrown to the side by Lupin and had landed against a cupboard full of crockery, which objected and rattled violently. The potion he had been using and had set aside had smashed on the floor. Then Hermione’s eyes widened in fear as she heard a low guttural growl come deep from within Lupin’s chest. She apparently wasn’t the only one who was now scared because Arthur and McGonagall let go of him and started to back away. He had stopped convulsing and now just growled at a low pitch like a rumble. It was the only sound to be heard, as all present froze momentarily.


Recovering from her moment of panic Hermione realised it wasn’t full moon; it wasn’t due for two weeks. She had always kept track of that before, now more than ever because she was staying at Grimmauld Place. Curiosity took over the fear and battled for first place, it won and Hermione found herself speaking:


“Its not full moon, he’s not changing...is he?� Hermione’s voice was small but now she had alerted Arthur, McGonagall and Snape to her presence and their heads whipped around to see her, but before they could berate her for being there Dumbledore spoke.

“We cannot take any more chances, Severus, help me get him to the cellar.� Dumbledore offered no more explanation than that and Snape assisted him, by casting a binding spell on Lupin. Hermione wondered why they hadn’t used it before instead of pinning him down.


Lupin was still growling that low rumble but stayed still while he was being floated down the cellar stairs. Professors Snape and Dumbledore appeared back at the top and secured the door with wards and a locking spell. Snape was speaking to him:

“That binding spell won’t last all night; if he changes he may well be able to break through the door. He’s danger to us all.� Hermione couldn’t help but hate Snape for badmouthing Lupin, though at the same time she knew he was right. She knew that Professor Snape wasn’t fond of werewolves, and of Lupin in particular. Hermione also knew that his fear was justified having seen Professor Lupin in all his Werewolf glory. She shuddered a little at the thought.


Dumbledore looked, well, like Dumbledore and patiently he said, “He will be safe enough in there, I have placed a strong enough ward to repel a werewolf if necessary. I do not believe that he will change however; there is something more to this situation than we understand at present. I propose you, Arthur and whoever comes off duty next, Tonks I think, take watches until dawn, unless you are badly hurt from your fall, Severus?� Dumbledore looked to Snape.


“I am fine,� Snape replied, slightly insulted. “I will take the first watch,� he added as if to prove his healthiness.


Just then, an awful howl came from below, it truly was blood curdling in every sense, and Hermione remembered her third year when she had witnessed Professor Lupin’s change into a werewolf and the terror it had inspired.


Everybody in the room froze and paled a little. The howl turned to growling and then a loud crash, and a scream that could only be described as anguish and pain. After that, all that could be heard was a high-pitched whine, which almost sounded like wolfish crying.


Snape spoke then, breaking the spell of no talking. “Miss Granger, I suggest you get yourself up to bed and don’t come back down again, I know it's hard, but do you think for once you can do as you are told?� He did not sneer or become overly nasty but Snape’s face had a look of seriousness that wasn’t to be argued with.


Hermione nodded but couldn’t help adding, “Professor, I won’t be able to sleep, not now...� she shuddered outwardly.


Snape opened his mouth to reply angrily but Dumbledore beat him to it. “Miss Granger, I think it would be useful if you helped clear up and perhaps a nice cup of tea for everyone?� Everyone but Snape nodded at the tea comment and instantly there was activity in the kitchen, everyone grateful for now having something to do other than listen to the pitiful whining coming from the cellar.


When the table was clear, Hermione set down the cups of tea, having made one for everyone. She then sat down herself and sipped from her own cup. Everyone was curiously quiet and didn’t speak for a long time, listening to the keening sound still emanating from beneath them. Soon a quiet chatter started between Dumbledore, Snape, McGonagall, and Arthur Weasley. Hermione didn’t add anything to it she just sipped her tea and listened to the conversation flow. Dumbledore soon had to leave and she said goodbye with the others.


Hermione took the Headmaster leaving as a chance to sit in the living room where she could read comfortably. Sitting snugly in a chair, she started to read. At first, she found it a little difficult to concentrate on the book in her hands. The events of the night had left her mind alert and active. Trying to settle down and relax was a little hard, especially when poor Professor Lupin was suffering. Briefly, she thought of going back up stairs to reassure Ginny that everything was ok for the moment, but she knew then that Ginny would wake Ron, Harry, and the others. Best to let them sleep and speak to them all in the morning.


As Hermione continued to try to concentrate, she found she couldn’t help but worry. A frown started to form in her brow and her chest tightened at the thought of Professor Lupin being hurt. It really wasn’t fair. He was such a nice and understanding Professor, the best she’d ever had. Not only that, she feared for Harry, whom she thought would not be able to cope with more loss. She then started to think of happier times with Harry and Ron, smiling a little at the memories. It was at this point the frown started to relax as her eyes fluttered, opening and closing a few times before finally shutting.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Hermione didn’t know exactly when she had fallen to sleep but she awoke with a start and her neck ached. She was also startled to find that she now sported a blanket, which she didn’t remember putting on herself. Looking up, she saw Snape sitting across the room looking at her with a book in his hand.


“I told you to go back to bed, and the blanket was Tonks' idea, I would have allowed you to awaken cold. Should you be thirsty, Tonks has just made some tea and I believe toast as well,� he smirked as he finished speaking, though for Snape that was positively warm and friendly.


“Is Professor Lupin better yet?� Hermione looked anxiously to Snape who glared at her for mentioning Lupin.


“We will see when the sun arises, won’t we, Miss Granger.�

Snape seemed a little exasperated by her, and Hermione decided that being in the same room as a possibly sleep deprived and grumpy Snape, was not a venture she wanted to experience. Therefore, Hermione thought Tonks' tea was sounding more promising. As she rose, however the keening rose to a howl again making Hermione jump. Then there was a sudden thudding as if someone was climbing the stairs. Hermione didn’t hesitate pulling out her wand and a bustle of movement from Snape’s direction confirmed her thought that he had his wand out also.


There was a soft whispering at the door and Hermione couldn’t quite make it out, she moved closer to hear it and noticed that Snape had done the same. She realised that the whispering was heavy breathing, and that Lupin was right next to the door. She heard him say one word and she dropped her wand, she looked to Snape instantly who looked paler if possible and his eyes darted to Hermione’s. An understanding seemed to pass between them and Hermione picked up her wand.


She retreated to the kitchen where Tonks had been poking her head out of the door; she too seemed to have heard what Lupin had said because she looked shaken and shiny eyed. She knew that Snape would not allow her to remain within earshot of Lupin now, for fear of what else he might say. Not that she wanted to listen, but her heart ached with sadness inside at what Lupin had just said.


She sat at the kitchen table and Tonks just poured tea without asking Hermione if she wanted any. Tonks then poured herself one and hesitated over the third cup. She glanced to see if Snape had followed Hermione into the kitchen, and didn’t pour any in when she saw Snape had returned to the living room. She set the teapot down and sat down herself opposite Hermione. They both sipped in silence until Tonks broke it with a loud slurp.


“Sorry,� she said not blushing or looking ashamed.


Hermione couldn’t help but smile though. Tonks seemed to think this was an invite to speak again. “I miss him too y’know, it’s not right him not being here.�


Hermione winced, thinking of the name whispered by Lupin. His voice had been so empty, so desperate, and so alone that Hermione couldn’t think of it without feeling her eyes prickle. She couldn’t speak but Tonks seemed to understand this and patted Hermione’s hand a little and said no more, and she was blinking rather a lot and looking at the ceiling. They sat and chatted a little until dawn, very deliberately not talking about anything in particular.

*~*~*~*~*~*

When dawn arrived, Hermione saw the sun gleaming on the kitchen curtains. Tonks had gone to bed, tired from her night's work as well as an extra shift of Lupin watching, she made sure Snape was awake when she went through to the living room. He was still reading in the living room, having sat in there all night.


Hermione went back to the kitchen and read her book, not wanting to be told to go to bed by Professor Snape.
Hermione heard a shuffling noise coming from the cellar door and she again whipped out her wand, aiming at the door. She watched in mute horror as the door handle turned and the door opened. She swallowed what felt like an apple of fear in her throat, and her stomach flipped silently. “Where’s Professor Snape?� she thought.


The door didn’t creak or make any noise but she saw the very human hand of Lupin hold the edge of the door. The hand was still covered in blood, though it was dried now and rustier looking. As he walked out from behind the door, the full awfulness of his appearance hit her. He had scratches all over his face and arms, his shirt hung in tatters, there was barely any of it left. His face had dark circles under his eyes, and his eyes were red and puffy. He looked exhausted.


Then suddenly Snape was there, eyes narrowed, wand out, almost jabbing it in Lupin’s neck, and he flinched putting up his hands and backing off a step. There was a moment where Hermione thought Snape was going to stun Lupin anyway just to be sure. Snape lowered his wand and indicated that he should sit down in the kitchen. Hermione noticed that Lupin walked very shakily, he was unsteady. Suddenly his legs seemed to buckle and he pitched forward. Snape caught Lupin’s elbow roughly and guided him to the table and a chair. Snape bent over slightly and looked Lupin in the eye as if looking for the werewolf within.


“How do you feel, Lupin?� Snape asked whilst looking deeply into Lupin’s eyes, which Hermione thought was unnervingly intimate. Snape’s wand was gripped in his hand still as if Lupin were going to launch himself at Snape any minute. Hermione suspected that he was probably using Legilimency on Lupin.


Lupin nodded a little as he spoke, his voice dry and raspy. “I’m all here Severus, whatever it was has been and passed,� he touched his throat and said, “I am a little dry, and I would like a glass of water please.� Hermione jumped up and went to the sink to fetch a drink for Lupin. Snape in the meantime was looking over the wounds Lupin had received, mostly self-inflicted.


“I will need to go and fetch some supplies that will be able to fix you up; you broke my last skin-healing potion last night. I will be gone about fifteen minutes.� Snape looked at Hermione and seemed to hesitate leaving Hermione alone with Lupin, looking from Lupin to Hermione he said, “If in doubt, stun him straight away; take no chances, Miss Granger. Arthur should arrive before I get back, possibly with Molly. The other children shouldn’t be down for a few hours just yet.� With that, Snape took off and Apparated out of the kitchen.

Hermione was left there looking at the bedraggled Lupin, and she found that she was a little scared of him. He seemed to sense this because at that moment he gave her a small smile and looked up. The smile didn’t reach his eyes however.
“Are you ok, Hermione?� Lupin’s voice still rasped a little and he looked concerned. Hermione just nodded.


Hermione looked back at him and remembered the name he had spoken in his anguish last night, her eyes welled up, tears threatened to fall. She broke the eye contact between them and turned her back on him, opting instead for the kitchen sink. She filled a bowl with warm water, took out some clean flannels, and put them in the warm water to soak. Turning off the tap, she picked the bowl up and set it on the table beside Lupin.


Lupin watched her back and couldn’t help but wonder if she was ok. He knew he looked a state and frankly, he was completely at a loss as to what happened last night. He shivered, he was really feeling the cold right now, and he ached ever so much, physically and mentally. The cuts and grazes upon his body stung in the cold of the kitchen and he felt himself shaking harder. This was nothing new for him, he was used to the total exhaustion after a full moon, but this hadn’t been a full moon had it? “What the bloody hell is happening to me?� he thought. He knew that wondering about his problem would have to wait until Snape came back or when Molly and Arthur were here, it wasn’t something to discuss with Hermione. He picked up the water glass and sipped from it, as he did Hermione turned around and set the bowl she had filled down beside him. The water steamed slightly. His eyes and Hermione’s eyes both fell to the glass he was holding; it was shaking in his hand.


Hermione looked at the glass and then gently removed it from his grasp. She then turned back to the bowl of warm water and wrung out one of the flannels. She then aimed straight for his face with it. Lupin reached out, caught her wrist firmly, and looked at her doubtfully. “I’m just cleaning up the blood, Professor. I’ll be gentle, I promise.� He relented and allowed her to continue, though he wore a slightly pained expression. He was very quiet, normally he was but this was different, he looked deeply concerned.


Hermione stood in front of him and dabbed the cloth against his head and Lupin breathed in sharply, Hermione ignored it and carried on wiping and wringing out the cloth alternatively. She noticed that his skin was so very pale underneath the blood. It made his eyes stand out starkly compared to the rest of the features on his face. The skin was almost like cracked porcelain. Hermione blinked, she had been staring at his face too long without wiping, and Lupin looked up. He caught her eyes briefly and she flushed pink and dabbed at a cut above his eyebrow so he couldn’t look at her with that questioning gaze. She saw him wince.


Lupin knew that he needed cleaning up, but found the pressure of the cloth on his head excruciatingly painful. However, he really couldn’t be bothered to put up much of a fight, especially if it stopped Hermione looking at him as if he were a monster, which she had been. He didn’t blame her for reacting that way, he was rather used to it, but what had happened last night was unusual in the extreme. He was too tired to think about it and he really wanted to sleep. Lupin noticed that Hermione had stopped poking him with the cloth and when he looked up, she was staring strangely at him, she went pink and started to poke at him again with the cloth. “Merlin, she really must think I’m a sight to look at me like that.�


Hermione continued to dab away at Lupin’s head. She lifted his chin up with her hand and automatically wiped the blood away from his eyes, which tried to focus on her as she did so. As she wiped away the gore she held his chin slightly with one finger, her face was quite close to his face, dabbing away, removing what was on his cheeks and lips. She noticed that his skin was softer than she would have thought. Hermione felt him shudder and start shaking a little again, his eyes were closed slightly; then his eyes opened sharply as there was a loud crack and then another. Mr and Mrs Weasley were standing in the kitchen looking open-mouthed at Lupin. It was then, and only then did Hermione realise how intimate her contact with Lupin was. She stepped away instantly flushing again, worried, she looked to Arthur and Molly and she saw Molly’s face drain at the full sight of Lupin.


Remus felt Hermione lift his chin to gain access to other sore areas on his face. The contact of her warm fingers on his face sent a shudder up his spine; it made him feel the cold even more acutely, as he was exposed. Lupin couldn’t help but notice how close Hermione’s face was to his, he could see how brown her eyes were from here. She was biting her lip and pursing it at the same time. Lupin shut his eyes hoping to knock the image from his mind, and then opened them again at the sound a loud crack and then another. Molly and Arthur had Apparated inside the house and judging by the look on Molly’s face, he was in for the long haul of Weasley family care. He hadn’t failed to notice Hermione jump back though; she seemed embarrassed, probably because of how close she had been to him.


Then Molly was a flurry of blankets, bandages, and tea. Lupin really didn’t know what had hit him. Hermione couldn’t help but see him as a lost boy in the middle of all the activity that was Molly Weasley caring for him.


Hermione retreated to the living room to sit down under the blanket she had slept under previously. She lifted the book to read again and toyed with the thought of going back to bed. There seemed little point and she didn’t want to wake Ginny up. Her eyes travelled the words on the pages for a few minutes but began to glaze over, in a tell tale sign of tiredness. Soon she was asleep again, so much so that she didn’t hear someone come in, pull the blanket up higher, and tuck her in. That someone stood for a moment watching her sleep.


*~*~*~*~*~*

A/N: Thank you to my Beta hells456 for doing a through job :)

Chapter Three - Shifting Pain

The water beaded, then ran down the imperfections of the shower wall. A trail followed in the water's wake and disappeared after it. Lupin ran his finger down the now invisible path and lent his head, gently against the cool glazed surface of the tile. The warm water of the shower stung the open wounds that he had received, but it felt good. It was white noise drowning out the relentless tumult of guilt. He shut his eyes briefly, and felt the skin on his forehead start to cool. He knew that in half an hour he was going to try to explain all the events of the night before to Dumbledore. It wasn’t something he particularly wanted to do right now.

All he really wanted to do was go to sleep; every muscle ached within him, and if he was honest with himself, sleep would offer a much-needed oblivion, at least until the dreams started. He knew though he wasn’t the only one in the house having those dreams; on several occasions, he had heard the children screaming in their sleep. No one seemed to have escaped trauma and no one seemed to be able to escape his or her dreams for long. Every time he saw that hollow eyed look in the morning from one of the children it made his heart break, it made him want to rage against the unfairness of it all, mostly it caused a paternal like feeling akin to parental righteous protection and fury.

Lupin realised the water had started to turn cold and he knew he must have let time slip by. He finished washing and stepped out of the shower, grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist. Standing in front of the sink, he wiped the condensation off the mirror above. He looked at his face and saw his wet untamed hair hanging in his eyes.

There was nothing feral about his face, nothing wolfish, but there was something haunted about that face, something that said it had seen and felt too much. The grey flecks in his hair emphasised the belief that there was too much lost, and framed it. Lupin looked into his own eyes for a moment, there was a flicker of emotion across his face, and then it was gone. Lupin dried and dressed, he didn’t look into the mirror again.

As Lupin quietly crept down the stairs to the kitchen he heard many voices, some laughing, some chatting animatedly, the rest were concentrating on eating. He could hear the sound of knives and forks on china. His stomach turned slightly, he wasn’t ready to eat anything but he knew he should try otherwise people would worry. He knew that he had got a little thin recently; he knew that Molly Weasley had noticed it too; she was constantly cooking biscuits and cakes. She never asked him if he were hungry, she just put the plate of biscuits and cakes in front of him and hoped to tempt him. Sometimes, she even succeeded. Lupin smiled and pushed open the door.

There were quite a few people sitting at the large table, which seemed to have got a little longer. All the younger Weasleys were there, as well as Harry and Hermione. As Lupin glanced at Hermione, he saw concern etched in her face and then looked to see that look echoed on Molly and Tonks' faces; he saw the two of them exchange a meaningful glance that communicated some important message. Molly jumped up and moved around the table toward him.

“Remus, come and sit down. There’s plenty to eat, would you like a drink?� Molly was smiling that genuine sunshine smile of hers while she mothered him to a seat at the table without giving him the chance to say no.

He decided just to go with the flow and did as he was told and sat in the empty seat next to Tonks. He was now sitting in front of Hermione and Harry. Ron, who was sitting the other side of Lupin, Fred and George openly stared at Lupin’s face, quite shocked to see how badly scratched up it was. He saw their eyes glance to Hermione, who must have told them what had happened.

Lupin dropped his fork on his plate and it made a loud clattering sound that almost immediately silenced the room, at the same time, he cried out a yelp of pain. Tonks put her hand on Lupin’s shoulder and said quickly, “Remus, are you ok?�

He nodded and said, “Just a shooting pain from my cracked rib, don’t worry I’m fine, really.� At her look of doubt, he repeated himself, “Really.�

Tonks didn’t look too convinced but everyone started to eat again and the moment passed. Lupin bent down slightly and massaged his now aching shinbone and he looked at Hermione, who had turned crimson. Lupin could see that she had been trying to kick Ron who was sitting on the other side of him, probably because he’d been staring at his injuries, but had missed and kicked Lupin instead. She looked mortified and close to tears.

Lupin smiled at her warmly and tried to convey through the look that it wasn’t anything to worry about, although he couldn’t help the dance of amusement at the corners of his mouth. Hermione on the other hand did seem to think it was something to worry about because she shortly finished her meal and left, mumbling her thanks to Molly on her way out of the door, her face still red.

*****************

Hermione went and sat upstairs in one of the sitting rooms, she often went there to read if she wanted or needed some peace and quiet. She especially liked the many bookshelves that littered the walls. She was still glowing red sitting in the high backed armchair but she at least felt less exposed. She thought about poor Professor Lupin’s leg again and her face burned hotter. It was sweet the way he had covered up her embarrassment, but when she thought about the way he smiled at her afterwards she felt her face burn hotter still. He had seemed to find the whole thing quite amusing, a fact that he had kept so poorly hidden; she remembered the twitching at the corners of his mouth. At least he hadn't shouted at her, which would have been a lot worse. Hermione smiled a little and tried not to think of it anymore.

Professor Lupin had seemed very quiet and insular at dinner as if he had a great deal on his mind, Hermione thought. She could remember how dreadful he had sounded the night before when he had been having those terrible convulsions, it must have been awful for him. Her mind drifted to the way he looked after exiting the cellar after last night. He really had looked very ill, but then he didn’t know what had been happening to him, did he? It made Hermione very sad when she thought about how Lupin suffered sometimes, he never complained, never grew angry with his lot in life. Sometimes Hermione wondered at his patience, it seemed bottomless, but then with Sirius and James as friends she really didn’t find it that surprising at all, not if Harry was anything to go by.

It was at this point Hermione decided to look through some of the books on the shelves, there were quite a few on werewolf lore, Sirius had thought it a joke and bought some via Tonks because he couldn’t leave the house. Hermione smiled thinking of how devilish Sirius could be - “Or was…� - Hermione’s mind corrected her, and her heart dropped a little.

She reached up and selected a book called 'Madly Ravening Beasts' and started to read.

It was probably about fifteen minutes later that Ron and Harry came to find her, they found her snuggled up in the high backed chair with a book in her lap, her face was almost too close to the pages and she was reading avidly. They tried sporadically to engage her in some sort of conversation, but she became tetchy from being disturbed whilst trying to concentrate. They soon gave up and moved on to pestering Ginny in the downstairs sitting room for a game of exploding snap.

As Hermione read, her mind began to wander a little and she found herself thinking back to dinner. It wasn’t long before she was red faced again. It was at this point she tried to shake off the embarrassed feeling by concentrating harder on the book.

*****************

After the meal, Lupin tried to help tidy the plates away but was shooed into sitting at the table and watching everyone else do it. Once all the cleaning and tidying had been dealt with, Arthur, Molly, and Tonks sat down with a fresh pot of tea. Molly poured Lupin a cup and placed some freshly baked fruitcake in front of him. He left it untouched. They were chatting about the meal and who was going to be present at dinner tomorrow when Dumbledore walked into the kitchen, followed by Snape and McGonagall. Molly made some more tea and everyone quieted to hear what Dumbledore had to say.

Snape made no disguise of staring openly at Lupin; he had taken out his wand and placed it on the table in front of him. The look he was giving Lupin was one of disgust but Lupin ignored it and allowed a small benign smile at Snape, which of course, infuriated him more.

Lupin noticed at this point that Dumbledore was also watching him but he just tilted his head and said, “How are you feeling Remus?�

Everyone turned to look at him and he felt a little uncomfortable. “I ache, but physically I have recovered from last night. I’m still not sure what happened but tonight I am going to sleep in the cellar, just to be sure.� He looked down at his teacup not wanting to see anyone’s face.

“I’m sure that it won’t be necessary, Remus, but for safety’s sake I believe that would be a good idea,� Dumbledore paused and then added, “I had been hoping that you would be able to give us a little more information about last night, including the circumstances that led up to you being locked in the cellar.� Dumbledore looked a little apologetic but his eyes were serious.

Lupin nodded, knowing that this moment was going to come. He took another sip of tea and placed his cup back on its saucer, mostly to delay the inevitable and try to think where to start.

“Well, yesterday I spent a great deal of time researching some of the old tomes that you gave to me to look at, Albus. In fact, that’s what I had been doing for most of the week. I felt that I had been making a little progress and I needed to cross-reference some details with a few other books, so I went to the bookshop in Diagon Alley to find some copies of these other books. It went well, I found all but one, and I was quite eager to get back to check to see if my theories were right. It was getting late and I was going to Apparate back to my house when I was knocked over by this young girl. My books went everywhere and she was most apologetic, helped me up right away, and assisted me in picking up my books. She then left, in a rush to be somewhere I guess.“ Lupin paused feeling more than a little foolish, he sipped some more tea and his hand shook a little, no one spoke in the silence and then he continued.

“I Apparated home and set myself back to work. The first strange thing I noticed that was wrong, was that I felt very emotional.� He saw the others exchange glances. “My work wasn’t going well and I was becoming very irritated by it, to the point where I threw my notes across the room. It was then that I realised something was very wrong. My heart had started to beat strongly in my chest. I could feel my…er…� He paused looking a little embarrassed, trying to find the right wording, “My more base instincts were overwhelming me. I knew I had to find someone, and get help. That was when I Floo-powdered to your office, Albus, that was also when I could feel myself being lost.� He looked a little wan at describing losing his mind, but then he was used to changing into a werewolf every month. It had always been a horrid thing and he remembered the fear he felt when he entered Dumbledore's office. He was afraid that he was going to lose himself forever, but Dumbledore had calmed him for a few minutes.

Lupin looked up at Dumbledore at this point and saw sympathy and understanding within that jewel like gaze. Dumbledore nodded encouragingly and said, “Tell me how you felt before you passed out in my office.�

Lupin nodded and said, “I felt as though the beast within me were rising as if it would have on a full moon.� There were a few gasps of surprise and Molly looked horrified. Lupin continued, “I knew then that I had made a terrible mistake in going to you, Albus, in going to anyone. I should have gone to the secure room I have at home and I should have locked myself in. I was terribly afraid I would kill you, Albus, and that was when the convulsions started and I blacked out. When I woke up in the cellar at Grimmauld Place I knew that I couldn’t have killed you, and I realised that I never actually changed into the werewolf. I knew this because I was still clothed and because there is usually a specific feeling that lingers after the change. I am sorry it's hard to explain if you’ve never experienced it. Some of it felt like I had changed though, the pain and the aching were the same.� Looking at the faces around the table, Lupin could see that this had disturbed them rather a lot; he really couldn’t blame them for that.

Lupin remained quiet while Dumbledore and the others explained the events in the kitchen the night before. He realised then why Hermione had reacted to him so strangely, rightly so too. That just seemed to emphasise the feelings of self-disgust and horror at what had happened. He should have been more careful.

The meeting broke up and everyone started to chat in general. Snape left in a whirl of black robes, no doubt to carry out Dumbledore’s requests for the Order. Not Remus though, active duty for the time being had been ruled out. So had going home by himself. The last thing in the world he had wanted was to be caged up at Grimmauld place. With a frown and the churn of his stomach, he realised that this indeed must have been how Sirius felt. He suddenly felt very crowded and the need to be alone was immense. He left the kitchen without saying a word, which was noticed by Dumbledore, who watched his retreating back as he talked to McGonagall.

*****************

From her place in the sitting room, Hermione heard someone coming up the stairs. This in itself was not unusual. The unusual thing was that the person traversing the stairs continued up to the attic. Hermione got up from her chair and stumbled a little from the poor circulation her legs had been getting for the last hour or so. She made her way to the doorway and peeked to see if she could see who was on the stairs. She didn’t see anyone, but did hear a door shut. She made a mental note to look and see who the person was when they came downstairs.

*****************

The silhouette of a tired face hovered near the small grimy window recessed in the attic wall. Only a small amount could be seen out of such a window, though surprisingly it was the sole source of light in the room. Lupin clutched a glass in his hand and the amber liquid within shined from the dim light of the grubby window. He sipped the drink and felt the fire in his chest from the alcohol. His eyes were glazed slightly and he stared at nothing in particular through the window.

The room still smelled of Beaky, which wasn’t an entirely nice smell but it reminded him of Sirius. Lupin knew that Sirius had spent an increasing amount of time in this room towards the end of his life. That little fact made him feel as though he were a little closer to him. He missed Sirius dreadfully. Having to mourn for him once and then even in anger at the thought of a false betrayal was bad enough. Losing him a second time after realising all the time that they had lost, was unbearable. He felt the weight of his grief bear down on him and his chest tightened at the leaden feeling of his heart.

He sipped the whiskey – Sirius’ whiskey – it was his silent communion.

Lupin turned away from the window and pressed his back against the wall for support. He laid his head back and it touched the cold plaster. With his eyes closed, he imagined James and Sirius, as they had been in their first year at Hogwarts. Then the anger rose and his heart thudded painfully beneath his chest. They hadn't deserved what happened to them. As he felt his grief rise, he lost his grip on the glass he was holding and it fell to the floor, smashing. It broke him from his reverie and he bent to clean it up.

*****************

Downstairs Hermione heard the thud and tinkle of smashing glass. Slowly putting her book down, Hermione rose with her eyes locked to the ceiling. Without moving her eyes from the ceiling, Hermione instinctively reached out for her wand and grasped it. She didn’t think that anyone else had heard the noise because there hadn't been a sudden rush up the stairs from below. Briefly, she wondered whether she should call out and ask someone from downstairs to come and look. She shook her head visibly. They were safe here; it was probably Ron or Harry, or both mucking about. She considered this as she walked over to the door, which was still slightly ajar. It probably wasn’t them; she would have heard more noise by now. She opened the door and took a cursory look to check that the landing was clear. It was clear so she slowly moved towards the stairs leading to the attic. Hermione didn’t know why she felt apprehensive, there wasn’t anything to be scared of in this house other than the paintings. It was just that experience had told her that the unexpected could and would happen.

Placing her right foot on the stairs, she winced slightly as it creaked. Carefully she made her way up and was soon in front of an aged wooden door. Hermione’s right hand gripped the tarnished silver serpentine handle and opened the door.

At first, she didn’t see anything in the gloom, other than the grubby window, which allowed a dim light. “Lumos!� Hermione waived her wand in the direction of the window. It was then that she saw the figure of Professor Lupin sitting against a wall in the corner of the room, closest to the window. She saw that there was a bottle on the floor by his feet and there was a glass in his hand. His back lent against the wall and he rested one elbow on a raised knee, the other leg lay out flat. This was probably the most relaxed position Hermione had ever seen the Professor in. He was also looking straight at her.

“Good evening, Hermione,� Lupin said quietly.

Something about the way his voice sounded made Hermione look at him more sharply than she had intended. Was he perhaps a little drunk? Hermione wasn’t sure and she stepped further into the room.

“Are you alright, Professor?� Hermione’s voice was shriller than she would have liked but she was concerned, and couldn’t hide it. She heard the Professor moving before she registered it with her eyes. He stood, still holding the glass.

“Yes, Hermione, I’m fine,� Lupin smiled at her and stepped forward. He muttered an incantation and a few candles in the room lit up; the light accentuated the lines around his eyes. Any hint at what he had been feeling before Hermione had entered the room was banished.

“I heard a noise. It sounded like glass smashing. I thought I ought to take a look and make sure everything up here was … alright,� Hermione explained, feeling stupid because she knew how he would respond to what she had just said. She was sure that she was about to receive a lecture on not investigating strange noises by one’s self, which in hindsight she guessed she deserved, he didn’t though.

Lupin stepped forward and patted Hermione on the shoulder. He seemed to struggle with what he wanted to say and when he spoke a few moments later, his voice was quiet.

“I was just saying goodbye to an old friend.�

The statement hung in the air and Hermione’s heart felt heavy; she didn’t know how to respond to that. Her mind immediately went back to the night before when Lupin had been in the cellar. She was also surprised that he had told her what he was doing but not surprised at what he must be feeling.

After he had spoken, Lupin looked down at Hermione and saw there was a strange look in her eyes. A strong look of grief and pity mixed into one, but there was more to it than that. There was acknowledgement and recognition as though she had expected it from him. For a moment, she seemed a lot older than she was. She looked as if she was going to say something and then changed her mind.

“Are you ok, Hermione? You seem …troubled by something,� Lupin spoke, concerned that perhaps he had upset her in some way.

“Well no…that is to say that I am ok. I’m just…� Hermione struggled cursing herself for even starting to speak because now she couldn’t finish the sentence. “It’s just that, the other night when you were in the cellar…� Hermione looked up to judge the reaction from Lupin, which seemed to be closed and rapt. “In the cellar you said something, or rather called out for someone,� she finished hoping blindly he wouldn’t ask whom even though she knew he would.

He ran his hand through his grey-flecked hair and sighed a little and as he looked up, he noticed Hermione biting her lip nervously. He could guess what she was not saying but felt that he had to ask. He felt a little exposed and wondered what else she had heard him say.

“What did I say?� he said simply.

“You called out for Sirius,� Hermione said quietly, almost whispering, not wanting to be the bearer of this piece of news.

Lupin smiled benignly at Hermione, “I guess it must have been on my mind. Had Sirius been around to hear I’m sure he would have teased me mercilessly,� Lupin tried hard to hide the feelings that swelled up inside him, even though he had known what she was going to say. He tried to make light of the situation. He could see that revealing this had caused her some discomfort. He gestured to the door and they both walked out. Lupin left the glass and the bottle behind.

Hermione turned and spoke, looking down at the floor. “I wasn’t the only one that heard you. Professor Snape and Tonks heard you also,� Hermione sounded apologetic but then hastily added, “I haven’t said anything to Harry or Ron, and I didn’t think it was my place to tell them.�

Lupin nodded, his face impassive. “Thank you, Hermione. I know I can rely on you to act responsibly. I appreciate your tact in this situation,� his face softened and again tried to reassure her. “I’m fine now, so let's go downstairs and have a cup of tea. We can discuss why it's a bad idea to go exploring on your own when you hear strange noises,� he smiled, amused at the look of surprise and reluctance on Hermione’s face.

As Lupin followed Hermione down the stairs, he thought about what she had told him. It almost felt as if he were struggling to contain his feelings about Sirius and he wondered if he was coping with it badly. The thudding of the journey down the stairs was accentuating the thud that was starting drill into his head. What had he been thinking? Drinking Sirius’ old fire whiskey. He shook his head to himself as he reached the bottom of the stairs and followed Hermione through to the kitchen.

Hermione was bustling around making tea and Molly directed Lupin to the table to sit down. She placed a plate of biscuits in front of him. He left them untouched. Lupin rubbed his temples until Hermione placed a cup of steaming tea in front of him. She looked at him, he glanced up, and a moment passed between them, a quiet understanding. He smiled a little and sipped his tea.

It didn’t take long for Lupin’s mind to wander back to Sirius and deep in his thoughts, he barely registered the fact that Dumbledore and Snape had entered the room. His headache had got worse and he was finding it difficult to concentrate. His heart pounded in his chest and he got up from the table and stood by the window where no one could see his face. He rested his hands either side of the window frame and gripped it. Lowering his head, he tried to push down the feelings that arose within him; he feared they might consume him. He felt his heart thumping in his chest harder and more swiftly than before and he let out a small whimper of pain. He raised his head quickly knowing that it was going to happen again and turned around; Dumbledore had his wand out.

“Remus, you must go to the cellar, do you understand me?� Dumbledore’s eyes burned like ice fire.

Lupin felt his limbs starting to shake and his muscles spasm, he cried out in pain, “No…No…not now.�

The last thing he heard was the word Stupefy.

Chapter Four - Like Desert Storms

Lupin awoke with a start. It was pitch black and his eyes searched the darkness to no avail, he could see nothing. He tried to sit up, but failed. He was tied down. He was thankful for that at least. He wouldn’t have been able to scratch himself, as he had the last time. Though now his quandary was how long he would have to lay there until someone came down into the cellar. His mind wandered back to the night before and he shuddered, losing control like this just wasn’t him. He didn’t think he could live with himself if he actually hurt anyone through all this.

Lupin lay there for over an hour before he heard the creak of the cellar door. He turned his head slightly towards the light and heard the slow, careful steps of someone descending. He couldn’t see who it was in the cloying darkness until he heard the word, “Lumos!� It was Dumbledore.

Dumbledore sat down in a chair near the makeshift bed that Lupin was laying on. Dumbledore looked a little tired and there was concern etched into his face, his eyes traced Lupin’s face and there was a flicker of worry.

“How are you feeling, Remus?� The words were low and quiet.

“I seem to have my senses back,� his words sounded dejected to his own ears.

Dumbledore nodded, “There are some things that I should mention to you before I release you from your bindings. I cannot, in all good conscience allow you back upstairs without informing you of these few things.�

Lupin’s heart was in his mouth, wondering what on earth Dumbledore was going to say. He looked at the wizened old face and he could see no clue; he simply waited for the older man to continue.

“Last night you partially changed into werewolf form,� Lupin’s eyes widened involuntarily, but before he could speak Dumbledore continued, “No-one was hurt, so please don’t concern yourself with that, however, you raged for most of the night. The partial transformation left you in a great deal of pain, and I can now see that you remember none of it. We do - that is to say thanks to Hermione - have an idea as to what it is. Most importantly, I need you to stay in tight control of your emotions; failure to do so on your part may initialise another change in you. Do you understand?� Dumbledore was leaning forward slightly in his chair waiting for Lupin’s word.

“I understand, though an explanation would be nice,� Lupin sounded worried.

“Of course, Remus, I would rather let you out and talk about it calmly over a cup of tea, if you have no objections of course?� There was the smallest flash of a smile and a twinkle.

“Yes, tea would be nice.�

*~*~*~*~*

In the early hours of the morning, Hermione found that she was mentally exhausted. She had been looking through werewolf lore and information for hours. It didn’t help that she really didn’t know what she was looking for, only that she wished to assist in some way, and help Professor Lupin. So she assisted in the only way she knew how, she researched and read.

The Black library had many books, quite a few of them were dark, and not the sort of thing a young witch should read. Nevertheless, Hermione ploughed through them and tried to find some sort of meaning behind what was happening to poor Professor Lupin.

Her eyes glazed over as her mind wandered from the book in front of her, Hermione’s thoughts took her to the previous morning. She remembered just how awful the Professor had looked and she felt a wave of sympathy for him, all those cuts and bruises must have hurt him terribly. She remembered his weakened voice calling out for Sirius, and she felt a lump grow in her throat at the thought of it. All those scars he had inside… Hermione swallowed and shook herself back to her task in hand; dwelling on things past never really did any good. She instead applied herself back to the books in front of her.

Still having had no luck, Hermione picked up a book called ‘Obitus Herba’. It was blackened and musty with age. Opening the book caused a puff of dust to expel into the air; the pages were freckled with mould. Looking through it though was quite depressing. So many things that could cause harm to people, why would somebody want a book like this? Further in, the descriptions of plants were left behind and actual potions were being described, as well as foul curses. They were awful, awful draughts and Hermione felt sickened looking at them. She was almost to the point where she could see no more when she found something that stopped her cold. Lupis Dementia. Wolf insanity. Her eyes quickly flicked down further on the pages and read avidly.

Lupis Dementia - is falsely thought to be the degradation of a werewolf's mind due to the mind becoming confused as to its nature. It is in actual fact a potion, created solely to oust those half-breeds that try to pass within polite society, as humans. The application of the potion is very simple; a sample of the plant Diabolous Medinus must be picked on the night of the full moon. It then must be crushed and infused into boiling water. It must be left to boil and reduced to a syrupy consistency. It then has to be bottled immediately, lest it lose potency. A few drops into the beast's drink are all it will take to reveal its vile nature. It will become harder and harder for it to control its basest nature, as the animal fights for dominance within. Of course, the wolf will eventually win, a fitting end to a foul beast. Sometimes if a beast is particularly resistant it may take a few more doses to wear it down, this is advisable otherwise the effect may wear off. The use of Illystium Argentum negates all effects of Diabolous Medinus.

Hermione read the passage several times to make sure that what she had read was, in fact, true. She wiped her brow and found that it was slick with cold sweat. She was more than a little alarmed and she felt her heart beat like a drum in her chest. Could this be the reason for what was happening to Professor Lupin? If that was true, then somebody had deliberately done this to the Professor. Another cold shiver ran through her. In her mind, Hermione knew that things were only going to get worse since the resurrection of Voldemort, but this was hard to swallow.

Hermione stood, grabbed the book, and made her way out of the room and down the stairs. She was guessing somebody was watching Professor Lupin, or at least guarding the door. As she reached the bottom of the stairs, she saw that the cellar door was indeed locked. The kitchen door was slightly ajar and a warm glow flickered from within, hinting at a fire. Opening the door carefully, she was surprised to see Dumbledore drinking tea with Professor Snape.

Hermione quickly spoke, not giving Professor Snape the chance to berate her for being up at this early hour again.

“Professor Dumbledore, I’ve found something useful…� Snape snorted, “Something that might help Professor Lupin.�

Instead of berating her though, Professor Snape's eyes wandered to the book in her hands, and he immediately reached for it. Hermione relented it and watched as Professor Snape read the passage. His eyes widened and he looked quickly to Dumbledore and gave a little nod.

“This seems plausible to me,� Snape said almost enviously, his eyes glittering darkly.

He passed the book over to Dumbledore who brushed the page with his gaze also; he smiled and looked at Hermione, his eyes soft and blue.

“Well done, Miss Granger. Of course, we will need to prove this theory and test it, but this sounds very plausible indeed.� Dumbledore turned to Professor Snape and said, “Illystium Argentum? Is that problematic to find, Severus?�

“It's not an everyday ingredient but not completely rare, it is prized for its silver coloured flower. I think that it would be unlikely that this potion has been used; I doubt the opportunity to administer it would arise. I would suggest that Lupin re-examine the last week for such an opportunity. I, of course, will look into the matter straight away, Headmaster,� Snape arose from the table leaving his tea half drunk and went out the front door quietly.

“Tea, Miss Granger?� Dumbledore had the pot in his hand and was hovering over a cup that had appeared from nowhere.

“Yes please, Professor,� Hermione was biting her lip and failing miserably at acting calm.

Dumbledore poured the tea and looked at Hermione appraisingly, “Is there something more on your mind, Miss Granger?�

Looking up at Dumbledore, Hermione considered her words and said, “Yes, actually there is, sir. This thing that has been done to Professor Lupin, well, it's been done deliberately hasn’t it? Some horror of a person has sneakily administered this vile brew, in the hope that he would…die,� Hermione’s voice hitched a pitch higher and her eyes glistened. “I know we are at war, so to speak, but I never expected stuff like this, I never imagined it would be so…evil.�

Hermione cried and Dumbledore patted her hand and gave her a moment to console herself. He looked as though he was considering something and he nodded to himself.

“I’m sorry, sir, I’m being silly,� Hermione said, wiping her eyes.

Dumbledore’s expression then changed and he looked saddened, “Hermione, I wish I could say to you that you were being silly, but you are not. These are the times that we live in and I wish I could protect everyone from what’s going to happen, but I can't. It will get worse. That’s the only promise I can make with confidence. This is what Evil is, its awfulness will constantly surprise us, and so it should. One never gets used to living with evil, knowing it co-exists with us daily is frightening. We have to live, however, with our own lives and choices. Is it truly harder to fight it, or is it harder not to fight knowing what will happen if we don’t? Could you live with that choice?� Dumbledore looked down at his teacup silently and stared for a moment into the hot water.

“I never believed that I had a choice, sir,� Hermione said, her eyes glistened not with tears but with that famous Gryffindor courage.

He smiled softly at Hermione, “No, I don’t suppose you did,� his eyes shone warmly at Hermione, and she felt a rejuvenated sense of purpose within. “Now, I do believe that Remus will be wanting a cup of tea and a spot of toast.�

Hermione blinked and stood, “I’ll get some ready for him, shall I? Would you like some toast, Professor?�

“I wouldn’t say no to a slice of toast, thank you, Hermione. Now I shall go and fetch Remus,� Dumbledore stood and gracefully walked over to the cellar, and opened the door slowly. He disappeared down the black hole in a swish of robes.

Hermione rattled around the kitchen, cooking toast and boiling the kettle for tea. She was glad of the task because she then wouldn’t have to think about what Dumbledore had said. She knew he was right, of course, but it didn’t make it any easier to think about. Hermione’s mind then drifted to Professor Lupin as she brewed the tea. She hoped he wasn’t as badly hurt as he was this time yesterday and briefly wondered whether she should get out the first aid stuff again. The sound of creaking stairs alerted her to the fact Dumbledore was returning.

She turned and looked towards the door and saw Dumbledore and Professor Lupin emerge from behind it. Lupin looked drained and exhausted. His hair was all over the place and hung in his eyes.

Not accustomed to the tangled mane, Lupin raked his hand through it a couple of times in an attempt to tame it. It didn’t work and it just fell back into his vision. He sat down at the table and reached for a cup of tea, he placed in a couple of sugars and stirred it. He knew that Hermione was staring at him, he could feel it. Turning to meet her gaze, he saw a look of pity in her eyes and then she jumped realising her faux pas. She turned around to fetch the toast and placed it on the table in front of Dumbledore and Lupin. First, she was scared of him, now, she pitied him, and he really didn’t know what was worse.

Hermione stared at him still seeing the scars from yesterday and remembering his pain. His skin was so frail and he seemed so fragile, even though she knew that physically he was stronger than he looked. He looked weary and slightly pathetic like a wet puppy in the rain. All Hermione wanted to do was wrap him in blankets and feed him chicken soup with an on tap supply of tea. Then he turned and looked at her his eyes fixing on hers and she jumped.

Lupin and Dumbledore sat discussing the possible nature of the potion that Lupin had been ill with. Hermione observed how calm he seemed about it, if it had have been her she would have been furious. It wasn’t long, however, before Dumbledore stood and made his goodbyes to Hermione and Professor Lupin. He left quietly, not wanting to awaken the portraits.

As Lupin watched Dumbledore leave, he felt his hope leaving with him. He felt a little frustrated and was starting to understand how Sirius had felt…before. He pushed the rising emotion down and boxed it for another time, remembering what Dumbledore had said to him downstairs. He looked around to see Hermione sitting nearly opposite him at the table. She was looking into her teacup.

“Any Grims today?� He smiled softly.

Hermione looked up and shook her bushy head.

“I believe I owe you a thank you. For helping to find a possible solution to my little problem. Thank you, Hermione,� he smiled warmly at her and it lit his face.

Hermione looked a little red but smiled back, she was pleased to see him smile; the difference it made to his face was amazing. “I had to do something, so I hit the books. God, have you seen some of the books up there, they are truly vile.�

“That they are indeed, they should probably be taken to a secure library.�

“Keep them? Shouldn’t we burn them?� asked Hermione in disbelief.

“No book should ever be burned, Hermione,� Lupin spoke softly and patiently. “If they were to have been burned then you would have never spotted what was happening to me. No, such knowledge should be kept, but kept safely, under lock and key.�

Hermione nodded with understanding. He was quite right, of course; she couldn’t believe she’d said something that silly.

Lupin yawned and looked apologetic. “I think I may have to go back to bed. If you need me I’ll be down stairs…in the cellar.� He shrugged.

Hermione looked at his retreating back and just as he reached the door she said, “Have sweet dreams, Professor.�

He didn’t say anything but he looked at Hermione and saw she really meant what she had said. The very word sweet seemed personify her exactly at that point, and he smiled a warm smile in her direction.

“I do believe I will, Miss Granger,� he said mimicking her formality.

*~*~*~*~*