Too quickly, Hermione ran out of the common room with the other three on her heels.
“Hermione, stop! Let me explain!” shouted Ron fruitlessly and more than once.
Her rage could not be quelled long enough for her to pause in the relentless beating of her shoes against the floor. Her hair billowed out behind her like an inverted umbrella and her sobs could clearly be heard over the wheezing and huffing of Harry, Ron and Ginny. She was flying on her adrenaline until she reached the Defense against the Dark Arts door. She twisted the handle and realized it was locked. Standing back, she shouted, “Alohamora!” while pointing her wand at the door imperiously. The lock released in a loud thunk and she kicked the door to force it open more quickly.
“Hermione! We don’t even know he’s in th-“ began Harry as he entered the classroom behind her. He paused when he spotted the forlorn Lupin standing just outside his office door.
“How dare you!” she growled. “You are a cowardly murderer! Taking whosever life you please!” Her hands were balled into tight, apple-like balls and angry tears showered her cheeks in salty streams. The three stood dumbfounded behind her. “Kreacher made a mistake! He didn’t deserve to die, yet you went off and named yourself executioner. You’re a vile, monstrous-“
“Enough!” said Lupin sternly. His face was pasty as he called over several chairs for them. “Take a seat.”
“I don’t want to sit with the likes of you!”
“Before you judge my actions, allow me to tell you my side . . . or at least tell you what really happened.”
“Ron already told me,” she glared defiantly, despite the fact that she was speaking to a professor.
“No one knows the whole story. Now sit, please. You may shout at me as much as you wish to when “ and only when “ I am finished.”
Hermione sat, shaking and glowering, and seemed to focus a great amount of effort on keeping her bottom plastered to her chair. Ron sat next to her. Ginny and Harry took their seats, sharing a look of mutual dread and a reassuring squeeze of their clasped hands, which they soon released. They hadn’t yet reached a level of comfort in their precarious togetherness.
Lupin sat down cumbrously. He was physically burdened with the heaviness of his thoughts. He avoided Hermione’s eyes when he cleared his throat to speak, opting to gaze out of the black windows as if wishing for escape.
“After I ensured the imprisonment of the captured Death Eaters, I went to St. Mungo’s . . . to see you four, and Luna and Neville, of course, along with the hurt Order members. You were . . . your minds and bodies were broken. I couldn’t . . . I couldn’t take it. So I left. God, I left. I walked down the alleys and backstreets of London aimlessly. I didn’t see or hear anything; my head felt as if it was caving in upon itself. I couldn’t process. Sirius . . . he tore at my insides. I could imagine him gone. I kept remembering all the times he’d said he was invincible, and would live forever. I remembered James a-and Lily. They weren’t meant to go. We were the Marauders. And Peter . . .” Remus’ head was burrowed into his raspy hands, matching the occasional crack in his voice. Harry could barely stand it. He struggled to keep a straight, impassive face. Ginny, however, allowed her tears to fall silently.
“And then I was there. I thought of the address and stormed inside. The same thing I’d pushed deep down all those years rose out of me, and I stopped thinking. I went inside. He stood there in the entryway with this disgusting, gleeful grin. And it tore out of me . . . and it . . .and I took him, and I . . . pulled . . . and he came apart.
And the whole time, I was sure I heard him laughing. That disgusting squeak of a voice. So I kept doing it . . . My face was covered with it . . .with him. I couldn’t stop. My nails had him beneath them. The portrait was screaming and I didn’t care. And . . . when i-it was on the floor . . . I stomped and k-kicked it.” Remus Lupin’s jaw trembled as he rubbed his temple continually. He stared transfixed at the floor. His eyes were wide and moist, but not a tear drop fell.
Ginny stood and walked over in front of her Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. At the tail end of a sigh, she wrapped her arms around his neck in solemn embrace until the racking fear and pain subsided. She kissed his forehead tenderly when he picked up his head. He looked back at her with unseeing eyes when a shudder crept down his spine.
She turned to return to her seat, and seemed to take in the silent shock hanging so heavily over them. Harry’s face was sunken and confused. He felt a strange concoction of residual hatred and pity. She sat down next to him, waiting for him to ask something, or say anything. He did neither, so she took his face in her hands and turned it toward her. With a deep ‘v’ between her eyes, she whispered, “It’s done.”
“Hermione?” Lupin looked at her sadly when she shivered upon eye contact.
She stood and backed away slowly, shaking her head indistinctly. Utmost pain was infused into every movement. She gasped and ran from the room.