A Time Before Tears

CHAPTER FIVE

Hermione dropped Divination.

No one asked her why she did it. The rest of the people in her year were too caught up their own issues to spend much time worrying about why the exchange student dropped Divination. Peter had History of Magic studying to do, a subject he did dismally in. James had Quidditch practice. Lily had different things to do that happened in places Hermione knew nothing about. Noelle had work from all of her classes. Valerie had a boyfriend in Ravenclaw that she'd fallen head over heals for. Remus had full moons. And Sirius was trying to tutor Peter, practice with James, and be there for Remus. Not to mention that James and Lily were prefects.

All in all the Gryffindor sixth years were a busy group.

Still, in all of the mayhem of schoolwork and games and studying, the male half of the house pulled pranks and played many games of exploding snap. The girls, on the other hand, were hardly together as just the four girls. Instead, they were often spotted in various pairs with the Marauders: James and Lily, Peter and Noelle, James and Sirius, and Hermione and Remus.

Sirius and Valerie disappeared quite a bit, but Hermione doubted they were together- two volatile personalities like theirs could not seem to be in the same room together for very long. And then there was Remus- Remus who seemed to be on Hermione's thoughts a lot more than she would have liked. It wasn't just that she was thinking about his story and what McDermott had said, though that was what she was thinking about the day after her interview with McDermott as she walked into the Gryffindor Tower.

The common room was quite full but Hermione did not bother to look for anyone she knew. Instead, she sat in a chair in the corner facing a corner, choosing not to stare at the people whose fates she held in her hands. To have that much power over other lives terrified Hermione. She felt a pang of compassion for Harry, who must have felt like this a lot.

She might have stayed like that for hours but a sudden burst of laughter from a table near her, made her look over. She was positioned in such a way that she could see the two people at the table but they seemed so absorbed in whatever they were doing that they didn't notice her.

"And what does this one do?" Peter Pettigrew asked, pointing at what Hermione guessed was some sort of game board.

"It moves diagonally forward one block," Noelle Matthews replied in a voice that sounded very exasperated. Hermione guessed that Noelle must be teaching Peter how to play checkers.

"And it kills how?"

"Peter, all the pieces look the same. So far eight of those identical pieces have moved diagonally and killed by jumping the pieces right in front of them diagonally, do you think that particular piece is just going to be different randomly?" He shrugged and didn't respond. Then he pointed to another piece.

"And what does this one do?" This time Noelle barked out a laugh and rolled her eyes. Peter smiled self mockingly. "I'm kidding. I think I'm ready to play now. I will move this one here." He picked up a piece and moved it forward. Noelle picked up a piece and made a quick move. This process repeated for a minute in silence. There was such a fluidity in the game, Hermione could not drag her eyes away.

"Great move there, El," Peter said, picking up a piece and obviously killing one of hers.

"Do you remember me telling you to never call me that? I do," Noelle responded.

"And I told you that I didn't want to call you No." Hermione couldn't see the board but she could see Peter. His eyes were active and his motions gave away the fact that he was making long jumps and obviously taking many of her pieces. "You have to remember this conversation, El. It was just last Christmas."

"I remember that you," she said as she violently moved one of her pieces, "sang 'Noelle, Noelle' again and again and..."

"You know, it really is quite inconvenient that you turned sixteen. That meant I had to sing it sixteen times. Even I thought that was a bit much," Peter said as he made another huge move.

"You could just not sing it."

"And end a Christmas tradition we've shared since we were two? I would never dream of it."

"Conrad would be proud." Something dark passed through Peter when Noelle said that, but it was gone almost instantly and Hermione couldn't bring herself to worry about it too much. She had enough on her plate as it was. Peter moved in one last huge move.

"And that ends that argument." Peter sat back into his chair and looked thoroughly proud of himself.

"What?" Noelle exclaimed, eyes wide. "You beat me? You beat me your first time playing checkers? You beat me in about two minutes? What is this?" She was staring incredulously at the board but Hermione saw that she was trying very hard not to smile.

"I believe you owe me a couple of galleons." Peter looked distinctly proud of himself. This time Noelle did smile; her smile spread across her face, lighting it up, and Hermione realized she'd never seen Noelle look that happy. Ever. She was really very beautiful.

"I told you you'd be good at this game," Noelle said, standing up and walking over to the chair where Peter sat. She gave him a hug and then sat next to him and began to clean up the board. "Joseph was horrible at this game the first time we played."

"Oh? And how is the big J doing?" Peter asked, moving his eyebrows up and down.

"Well, thank you."

"And have you heard from him lately? Did he write you any saucy letters?"

"Do you honestly think I would ever tell you?" Noelle said as she began putting the board in a wooden box next to her chair.

"Why not?"

"Because it's not something I want to discuss with you."

"That's okay. I don't really want to read anything mushy anyway. And if it isn't mushy I would have to beat him up and Lord knows I don't have the time to fit that into my schedule."

Hermione would have begun to wonder who they were talking about but every time she began to think about anything she saw the picture that was on the wall: young Ron and Ginny dead. So she stopped wanting to think at all.

"Gee, you're such a good person," Noelle said sarcastically and the two got up together and walked away, leaving Hermione trying to block the pictures in her head by herself.

~*~*~

It was exactly a week after Hermione had spoken with McDermott and while she never thought she'd be able to rid herself of the picture of death seared into her brain, she had learned how to store it away.

"Add two pinches of newts nails." The sixth years were in Potions and, as had become the expectation, Hermione was desperately trying to fix the horrendous concoctions that these people called their potions. Noelle's was purple.

Hermione and Lily had gone to a Quidditch game that weekend. It was Slytherin versus Hufflepuff and it was high packed and exciting. The Slytherins still cheated in this era but it wasn't as open, blatant, or cruel as it was in her own time. It was a really good chance for Hermione to relax and unwind, completely forgetting the knots in her stomach. The feeling hadn't lasted very long.

"This class sucks. It's so pointless," Valerie said bitterly as she obeyed Hermione's instructions, then picked up the ingredient next to it that Hermione did not recognize and tossed that in too. "We're in the middle of a war, shouldn't we be doing something that would actually help us?"

While Noelle sighed and Lily shrugged, Hermione's thoughts raced back to the dark haired man that deemed himself the Potions Master in the nineties. Hermione remembered how much better she was in Potions than everyone who had not been taught by him. She realized that it wasn't just that she worked hard and studied. She had a better teacher than these students.

Severus Snape's place in the war, his job for Dumbledore, and his importance to the Dark Lord- it had all been because of Potions skill. This craft that Valerie dubbed so pointless was all that saved him from death at the hands of evil. He truly was a master and if the dark side wanted to work with potions, they wanted the best. They wanted Severus Snape.

"Miss Granger? Is your potions prepared or are you day dreaming of doing it correctly?" the professor asked snidely. This woman thought she was mean and cutting, but Hermione just blinked at her, having lived through five years of worse treatment under the supervision of a man that hated her best friends.

"I'm done, Professor," Hermione replied. They were working on an advanced form of an aging potion. It was meant to transform the drinker into the older version of themselves. Depending on the potency of the potion they would age a great deal or just a day.

"Since Miss Granger believes her potion is complete, I must assume everyone else is equally as ready. Take a drink."

Hermione ladled a cup of her own potion and drank it in one swallow. It was unsettling- feeling her features rearrange themselves- and it reminded her of the Polyjuice Potion incident that she tried to adamantly to forget. In order to distract her thoughts, she made the mistake of glancing around the room.

To her right stood the image of Lily Potter, the wife of James Potter who waved happily up at people from her wedding photos in Harry's album. Her hair was longer, freckles less pronounced, and cheekbones more prominent. The slenderness of her face made her startling eyes stand out even more. Lily took a deep breath as she looked so sadly upon the woman Lily would become.

"You should take pictures, Hermione, and we'll see how well this potion really worked in a few years," Lily suggested. Hermione nodded, not trusting her voice to overcome the knot in her throat, and picked up her camera and snapped a photo as Lily smiled.

"Here. Let me take a picture of you," Lily said, leaning forward to take the camera from Hermione and snapped a quick photo of Hermione.

"Where are Noelle and Valerie?" Hermione asked, looking around. Hadn't the girls been right next to Lily and she at the beginning of the class? Then she caught sight of them and started laughing.

Valerie and Noelle had varying effects. Noelle looked about two hundred and Valerie looked like a bird (neither of which should have been possible if they simply used the correct ingredients). After Lily snapped a picture and handed the camera back to Hermione, the professor grabbed Noelle and Valerie by the arm (and wing) and dragged them in the direction of the infirmary.

"Hermione, can I borrow your camera?" Remus' voice sounded in her ear. Without thinking, Hermione nodded and turned to look at him. Seeing his face, she stumbled backwards, knocking her half-full cauldron to the ground.

"Well that wasn't the desired response but it works," he said, smirking.

"No," Hermione muttered, shaking her head at him. "This isn't you."

Remus looked nothing like Professor Lupin; he looked nothing like the haggard forty year old that had as many wrinkles as Dumbledore. He didn't have rings under his eyes or frown lines around his mouth. His soft, caring eyes were not edged with pain. His pale skin was smooth and tan. He looked like the forty year old man that he should have been.

"This is me, Hermione. Do I look like an ogre?" Remus asked, his voice holding barely contained nervousness.

"No. No. You look- you look fine," Hermione said, hands shaking where they rested on the table behind her.

"He looks fine?" asked a voice to Hermione's right, penetrating the haze in her mind. She did not have to look over to recognize the teasing tone of Sirius' voice. Sirius didn't matter, only Remus did. Only the way Remus' caring eyes were directed at her in silent concern. Slowly, carefully, Hermione reached out a hand and touched Remus' face, letting a small smile grace her lips to see the man he could become as she tried to remind herself to breathe.

"She seems a bit mesmerized. Did you put something into her potion, Remus?" James asked, joking.

Hermione's eyes locked with Remus' and her hand began to shake against his face. Focusing on her breathing and remaining calm, she withdrew her hand and blinked back tears.

I'm sorry, she wanted to say, wanted to yell, wanted to cry out the world. I'm sorry that this you will never exist, that this version of you will be killed off by Voldemort and a disease that already took too much from you.

"Is she okay, Remus?" Peter asked, his voice filled with sincere concern. Sirius, stepped in front Remus, affectively taking up most of Hermione's line of vision. And once more Hermione took a step backward and lost control of her breathing. Nearly hyperventilating, Hermione shook her head as she looked at him, shook her head.

"Sirius?" she whispered.

"Yes?" Wind rushed passed her ears, blaring and cutting out all other sound. It was like she stood in the middle of a tornado and all she could see was a face that would never come to exist.

Sirius looked... there wasn't a word for how different he looked. His mouth moved and she was sure she should have heard words but she didn't. His face wasn't hallowed out. His eyes weren't dead. His skin wasn't glassy and drawn. He was still weighed down by something but it wasn't anything near to what he was carrying with him in her time. He looked alive. It was incredible, heart-breaking, and horrible all at once. Remus stepped forward and his mouth also moved but Hermione only closed her eyes.

Breathe. Just breathe, she commanded herself. As when she thought she could, she opened her eyes and saw both Remus and Sirius staring at her, looking worried, and she barely held in a gasping sob as she began to shake. Soon her knees gave way and, as if in slow motion, Hermione crumbled to the ground and wrapped her arms around her knees.

She felt the others crouch down around her- four boys and Lily who came back to see what all the commotion was about- but she dared not look at them. Only when Remus put a finger under her chin and lifted her face did she turn away from him completely, trying to ignore Sirius' changed face too. Instead, she focused on the person to her far right and promised herself that she would not look at Peter and see Wormtail, the betrayer.

She needed to focus on James- James who looked so much like her best friend. James who hadn't lived long enough to give Hermione an idea of how wrong this projection was. James who was starting to look really scared as she continued to stare and not answer their questions, rocking forward and backward.

Her breathing wasn't regular but after a minute she began to hear again over the loud ringing in her ears.

"Oh my God," she muttered as she caught another glimpse of Sirius.

"I think we ought to get you to the infirmary," Peter's voice said. As he moved to help her stand up, his face dipped into her line of vision. Hermione quickly closed her eyes and shook her head.

"No, I'm fine. No infirmary," Hermione said in a horse whisper. She opened her eyes after she felt Peter move away and met James' questioning gaze. Then he reached out a hand and she took it, letting him lift her to her feet. Still unsteady, Hermione rested a hand on the table and took deep breaths.

"Hermione? Are you hurt?" asked Remus. Hermione shook her head and fought back the tears as she saw him looking at her through eyes that were not his own, through eyes that would soon see too much of the world to look so innocent- too much betrayal, too much death, too much pain.

"We should at least tell the professor," Peter said.

He moved to come and comfort her but she caught sight of him and jumped, knocking herself off balance and almost onto the ground again. She kept backing away. She couldn't keep herself from staring at Peter. She knew that Remus was moving closer to her but she kept moving back, toward the door and blessed freedom.

As she moved, she glanced between Sirius, Peter, and Remus. They weren't- they couldn't be- they- No. No. What's going on?

The tears that she'd held back began to fall. She gasped in shock and took gulps of air. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest as she backed away. The room seemed to spin around her in a blur of concerned faces and strange noises. The tornado was back and she had tunnel vision. She closed her eyes, desperate to get the face out of her mind, the face that would never come to exist outside this dungeon.

"You're not- You can't be- You're not him. He was- was- not you." Hermione couldn't finish and Remus stepped forward, wrapped one arm around her waste and practically carried her up to the infirmary. Hermione barely noticed as the face of little Peter Pettigrew flashed across her mind.

She had expected to see Wormtail, the Betrayer, and to hate him for what he would become. Instead, he looked like-

The only memory Hermione had of Peter was of the Shrieking Shack, and whenever she thought about the Potters' traitorous best friend she remembered that rat-faced, watery-eyed man cowering before his friends. She saw the desperation in his eyes and his disgusting hands clinging to her robes, calling her such a smart girl.

In that dungeon, she had seen what Peter Pettigrew could become. His hair shown blond, thick and well groomed, cheeks rosy with colour and eyes like the ocean in the summer. With his eyes locked on hers and filled with concern, she had seen what Peter might have been at twenty-five: a kind man with the face of a knight in shinning armour.

Hermione's tears continued to flow even as she lay down on the bed in the infirmary, even as Remus remained and held her in his arms. Only after Madam Pomfrey handed her a potion to drink did the tears subside and let her mind work.

She looked at Remus, sitting there looking like a 25 year old man, concern etching itself all over his face, and she reached out for his hand.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, knowing that sleep draughts also had the mild affect of loosening inhibitions in the minutes before they began to work.

"For what?"

"I'm sorry I cried. I didn't mean to."

"We all cry sometimes."

"Harry doesn't," she murmured, sleep overwhelming her.

"Are you all right?" Remus asked, still grasping her hand.

Hermione blinked a long blink and stared into his eyes, tears still lingering behind her lids. She saw his hair had not a single grey strand. She saw her eyes without wrinkling near the edges. She saw the laugh lines and unmarked left cheek, and she had an epiphany: this is really what he could look like.

Remus could look happy. Sirius could look healthy. Peter could look like a prince. And James could look alive. It was all in Hermoine's hands. And suddenly, her knowledge felt less like a burden and more like freedom, like a gift.

She grasped his hand tightly and whispered before she fell into a dreamless sleep, "I'll save you."