A Midsummer's Journey

Neglect me, lose me; only give me leave,
Unworthy as I am, to follow you.
What worser place can I beg in your love,
And yet a place of high respect with me,- A Midsummer's Night Dream

"Excellent!"

She had been working on the Patronus spell all morning. In the past hour, she was starting to produce the silvery light with a substantial form. Encouraging her to find her most happy memory, she had finally produced a fully-formed Patronus. It was humanoid with large wings. Ange Gardien, he mused. It suited her.

"Well done, Hermione, well done. I must find you a boggart to practice on to get the full effect of what a Patronus can do. When I go tomorrow, I will look for one in the forest. The challenge, as you know, is producing one when overwhelmed with your darkest memories when a Dementor is near."

She had a strange effect to these words: the smile she had been wearing over her successful Patronus faded, and she stared at him, eyes wide.

She had gone very pale, swaying slightly.

"Hermione?" He went to her and took her hands. They were icy. "Tell me what's wrong."

"It's my fault," she moaned.

"What's your fault?"

"It's all my fault." Big tears were now spilling from her eyes.

"Let's sit down," he said, pulling her toward the couch. She staggered and he caught her, sweeping her up in his arms. Sitting down, he held her in his lap. "Tell me what's wrong," he encouraged, stroking the hair back from her face.

"It's my fault... I killed her."

"Who?"

"Al...i...cia."

"Why do you say that?"

"I knew... I knew she was going into Hogsmeade that day... she had told me earlier in the week she wanted to go... get Harry a present before term ended. All the Hogsmeade visits had been cancelled... and she want... she wanted..." Caressing her back, he urged her to continue. "I should have told someone when she wasn't at lunch that day. I knew she had gone. Harry had shown her how to get into Honeydukes on the map. I should have told her no, it was too dangerous. But I didn't know, I didn't know." She buried her face in his shoulder weeping.

"Shhh, it's alright, it's not your fault..."

"But it is." Her words were muffled in his shoulder. "I am a Prefect... I should have taken the rules seriously. I should have told someone she was gone... I never... I never..."

"I know, love, I know," he said, softly rocking her.

He rocked her, caressing her back, speaking soothingly to her as she wept.

"I should have told someone. It's my fault, it's my fault."

"Alright, it is your fault."

She looked up at him startled, noticing the fire in his eyes, his face grim. "Just as it is the Order's fault for not uncovering the fact that bounties were placed on Hogwarts students in time, that every slimy low-life looking for a bit of gold would come after them. And most of all, it's my fault for making that damn map that Harry used to find the secret passages in the first place."

"No, you couldn't have known what would happen..."

"And neither could you; lay the blame where it belongs, Hermione."

She looked at him with woeful eyes, and comprehension flowed over him like icy water.

"That's why you were so angry at being sent here. You wanted them to find you. It would have been what you thought you deserved."

Her eyes gave her away once more.

"Promise me you will never think that way ever again!" he said angrily. "You have the courage of a lion, tempered with heart of mercy; I know, I saw it that night in the Shrieking Shack and since we have been here. Don't let the bloody bastards take that from you. Promise me."

She gave a slight nod.

"Say it."

"I promise," she murmured.

"That's my Gryffindor girl," he said, gently kissing her forehead, and then with a gentle hand, laid her head back on his shoulder. He held her, rocking her as her sobs quieted.

She has driven me to madness, he mused. One minute she is my equal, brilliant in her magic, the next a seductress that I must keep my hands and mind off, and now as he looked at her, her eyes closed, her hand holding onto the front of his shirt, all I want to do is protect her.

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Hermione stirred, caught between that space between wake and sleep. She felt so warm, so safe, securer than she had since Alicia had died. Feeling the warmth against her face, she realized it belonged to another person, the steady heartbeat beneath her skin. The aroma filled her nostrils: earthy, human flesh that was definitely male. Then catching the sweet, exotic scent of myrrh, she remembered whose skin it was. Remus. His soap must be made with myrrh, she thought, the cloying aroma was intoxicating. Wondering if it would taste as delicious as it smelled, her tongue flicked out to taste.

Remus was almost asleep, though his leg under her weight had been asleep for the last half hour, when he felt the shiver go through him as she stirred and he felt her tongue lick at his neck. He raised an eyebrow, wondering if she was still asleep. That thought was quickly ignored as the lick turned into a sucking movement that began moving up his neck. What the hell is she doing, he wondered, as he felt the fire burn through him from her administrations.

The first taste was sweet, salty and sweet. Still lost in that place between awareness, she wanted to taste more of the skin of the neck before her. It was safe to do that; it was safe to do anything here, in this cocoon. When she reached the ear that belonged to that neck, she couldn't think of anything better than to taste it also.

"Hermione." She felt two strong hands gripping her by the shoulders and bringing her up from her position. "If you would be so kind," he said, gritting his teeth as he tried to force the huskiness out of his voice, "I am afraid my legs have lost proper circulation."

Fully awake now, she remembered she was sitting on his lap. Cheeks burning, she scrambled to her feet, not looking at him. "Sorry," she mumbled.

"Don't be sorry, I didn't want to wake you. You needed to sleep after what you went through." He bent over, making the pretense of rubbing his leg, wanting to hide his arousal that was evident beneath the fabric of his trousers.

Changing the topic quickly, he reminded her that he would be going to check in tomorrow, and if she had any letters, he would take them. After she had gone upstairs to get her writing supplies, he sat back up, shaking his head. Didn't she realize what a temptation she was to him? He couldn't help but grin.

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"Having problems?" he asked teasingly, noting the growing stack of crumbled parchment on the table. She resisted the urge to stick her tongue at him, giving him an accusing look instead, before returning to her writing.

Her posts to Harry, Ron, and her parents had been done neatly with little fuss. She had to be careful not to give any clues to their whereabouts, which was easily accomplished, as she didn't know herself. It was the post to Ginny giving her pains. The words flowed smoothly until she got to the part where she mentioned Remus.

Ginny was her closest girlfriend at school. Sharing weeks of the summer holidays at the Burrow had brought them closer together, especially after Ginny's incident with Tom Riddle during her first year at Hogwarts. Hermione had felt so badly for her, and she often found her crying in the bathrooms. She had gently coaxed Ginny to share her pain with her. Such things tend to breed real friendship. Since then, they had shared secrets and confidences, especially concerning the opposite sex. It was little secret that Ginny had a crush on Harry, but had eventually outgrown it, especially when he confessed to Hermione that he couldn't think of her as anything but a little sister, Ron's little sister to be precise.

Ginny had written that she was dying to know what it was like to be living with Remus, with the express concern that she wasn't supposed to know, that Ron had let it slip in his post, because she knew Hermione had had a little crush on him in her third year when he taught at Hogwarts.

She paused, and then started writing.

Professor Lupin has been wonderful to be with. He has been teaching me advanced spells and I am learning more than I could at school.

She thought that had a double meaning but surely Ginny wouldn't.

Oh, you should see him in Muggle clothes, Gin. The difference is amazing. Like today, he is wearing black trousers and a slate blue shirt. The colour brings out the gold in his hair...

Damn, she sounded like a giggling third year. Wadding up the parchment, she tried again.

Remember how we thought Professor Lupin had the nicest voice and wondered if he could sing? Well, I heard him singing. She paused, she didn't want to say she had stood outside the bathroom, listening to him until he had finished his song the other morning. He was singing a song, I think it was in French, but I could have listened to his rich, tenor voic... Sighing, she wadded up the parchment, and with a 'damn', threw it across the table. Raising an eyebrow at her, amused, Remus thought it best not to say a word.

Resignedly, she finished her letter to Ginny.

Professor Lupin has been really nice and he has taught me a great deal about advanced charms and hexes.

Love,

Hermione

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Aha! I have you now. He was prodding the boggart into the shoulder bag he had brought for the task. Satisfied that he had finally accomplished his task of finding a boggart for Hermione to practice her Patronus on, he noted the long shadows the sun was throwing throughout the wood. It had taken much longer than he had anticipated finding a boggart hidden among the dead trees in the forest.

It would be quite late before he could return to the cottage tonight, as he was still miles from the Wisenbery's. When he had at last reached the small farm, the sun had begun its leisurely descent behind the hills. As he reached up to rap on the door, it swung open, and he was ushered in quickly to a worried-looking Chesire Wisenbery.

"Where've ye been boy,?" he growled. "Was beginning to think I would have to go looking for ye. Were ye followed?"

Apologising, Remus shook his head, stating that he had just gotten a late start that morning.

"Got a post from Dumbledore a few days after ye left. Said ye needed to read this straight off. Just wished I had known how to get it to ye quicker."

Noticing the anxiety on the older man's face, Remus remained calm as he opened Dumbledore's post.

Remus,

Events have occurred that I must bring to your attention. First I must impress on you this in not a call to return to us, but a warning to be vigilant in your seclusion. Mr. and Mrs. Granger were attacked of Monday of this week. Fortunately, the detection charms you placed on the house were effective, and Phoenix members arrived before any irreversible harm was afflicted. Mr. Granger was subjected to the Cruciatus curse and was unconscious when members arrived. Mrs. Granger was under the effects of Veritaserum. The Death Eaters unfortunately Disapparated before we could stop them.

I fear that Mrs. Granger had divulged the fact that you were the one who had approached them on the matter of Hermione. Though she could not tell them any more than this, they are fully aware that you have information they want. This suspicion was confirmed the following night. I regret to have to tell you this, Remus, but apparently acting on that information, your residence was burnt, the Dark Mark left as a calling card. I am truly sorry.

It is imperative that you take every precaution to prevent detection. Do not leave the safe house again, and to be precautious, I would advise that you remain within the walls of the house until further notice.

We will continue with the planned arrangement. Your contact will come directly to you with any further news.

Again, Remus, I have faith in you and offer my apologies. You may feel free to tell Miss Granger any of this. I leave that to your judgement.

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster

Chesire watched the younger man read, noting that no emotion flickered over his face. Maybe it wasn't as bad as what he had expected.

Remus folded the letter and slipped it into his robes. "Sir," he said, turning to face Mr. Wisenbery, "I am afraid that this will be the last time I will have the pleasure of your company."

"Anything I can do to help?" the older man asked, concerned.

Waving a hand, Remus shook his head.

Laying a hand on his shoulder, Chesire walked him to the door. "If ye do need help, just remember I haven't forgotten how to cast a few spells here and there."

Remus grinned at him, remembering the stories he had told him of his work with Dumbledore against the wizard Grindelwald. "I have no doubt in that matter."

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Walking quickly through the dark forest, he felt a quiet fury run through him as he thought of the letter. It infuriated him that Hermione's parents had to endure the hands of those bastards. Though their memories had been Oblivated, he knew that the effects of the Cruciatus curse would haunt Mr. Granger, though he would have no idea what was happening to him.

As far as the loss of his family home, he had felt a twinge of remorse over the memories it held. It had fallen into disrepair over the years, as he had no money to maintain it. As for losing anything valuable, the little he owned in that way he had brought with him. It no longer mattered that he had no residence. With the growing darkness of Voldemort's terror, he would have little reason to stay in one place with movements of the Order.

Lost in his thoughts, he jerked when he heard the sound behind him. He stopped, holding his breath as he listened. It was unmistakable, the shuffling, the slight breaking of twigs. He was being followed.