The Dark Side of the Moon

Chapter 2 - Books, Clouds and Rings

When Hermione awoke, it was still dark; it must have been around five in the morning. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and then, remembering where she was supposed to be, shot straight up in bed. She looked around, seeing figures sleeping. Lily was in the bed next to her.

She closed her eyes and breathed out, leaning back against her pillows.

It's real, I'm not dreaming. Damn - now what?

Dumbledore's words flooded back to her. 'You will find it.'

Find what, though? Hermione thought hard for a moment, what could she have lost? It must be some sort of mistake, if she had lost something than she'd know it.

Suddenly, she had an idea.

Treading as lightly as possible, Hermione got out of bed and opened the trunk at the foot of it. It contained none of her own belongings, but Dumbledore had kindly provided her with pyjamas, clean clothes, normal robes and assorted goods that would allow her to stay for as long as she needed to.

I won't be here for much longer though, Hermione thought stubbornly.

The past was interesting, but she was anxious to get back to her own time and figured there must be another way to get there other than having to search the whole of Hogwarts for something unknown to her. What if it wasn't even at Hogwarts, would that mean she'd be searching the whole of the past world?

She took out a school uniform but then, realizing it was the weekend, put it back and instead picked out a pair of tight-fitting, navy-coloured Jordache Jeans, a white tank top and an American Indian style poncho; camel coloured with alternating black and ivory stripes. Its fringed bottom fell just below her knees, covering her thighs completely, and it tied together at the rounded neckline. The only shoes Dumbledore had left her were Elvis-style blue suede, slip on with a slightly pointed toe. As she started carefully closing the trunk, some traditional blue and white Puka Shells caught her eye. May as well finish the job, she thought, grabbing them and slipping them around her neck. Her mother had always said that if you didn't have a set of Pukas, real or plastic, you weren't from the 70's.

Hermione stood in front of the full-length mirror by her bed and had to stifle her laughter. She looked like she'd stepped out of an old issue of Vogue magazine, hundreds of which were piled up in her Uncle Fred's basement. Actually now that she looked closer, she decided that she more fittingly resembled a flee-stricken throw rug you'd expect to find in a grimy, laneway Op Shop.

Viva la seventies! she thought with a silent chuckle and tiptoed out of the room, sticking her wand in her pocket and shutting the door quietly behind her.

*-*-*

Thankful the library hadn't moved, Hermione found the Time section easily and began pulling out each book that may have contained information on Time Travel.

She nearly dropped an armful of heavy volumes when a floorboard on the other side of the shelf creaked. Immediately, she heaved them back onto the shelf, whipped out her wand and shone it through a space in between the books. Her eyes darted about, but no one was there.

Shrugging dismissively, she quickly cast a lighting charm on the surrounding oil lamps, hauled twenty large books over to the nearest table, and began poring through them desperately.

'Useless!' she cried after what seemed like hours, slamming shut Time For Love - Concoctions for the Romantic Traveller and pushing it to the side where a large pile of books lay. She banged her head on the hard wood of the table.

'There has to be something,' she murmured as she pulled the last book towards her and began flicking through it. She scanned the pages unblinkingly and let out a little squeal of triumph as she came to a page with the title, The Painting of Time. Eagerly, she read on:

An involuntary means of travelling through time, this painting appears only to those who have lost what they necessitate the most. Its hypnotic and abstract image intrigues the person in question to approach it. It furthermore draws the person in, transporting them to either the future or the past, wherever their lost possession lies.

She scanned down further. 'Aha!' she exclaimed, her heart giving a small leap.

To Return to the Present

If one has travelled back in time due to the Painting, there are two ways that they can return to their own generation. The first and most highly recommended is that they do indeed find the lost article in question for as soon as they grasp it, they shall be pulled by the power of the Painting into their original present, and will find that no time has passed since they first were transported.

However, there is one more way which is bereavement, or termination of life.

If the person who is in the wrong time somehow dies, then they will automatically return dead to the present.

Hermione let out a groan of frustration. So Dumbledore was in fact right, she had to find what she had lost, the alternative didn't look too inviting. She closed the book and had to let out a laugh. Under the title Time, it read:

Written by Albus P. W. B. Dumbledore

Explains why he knows so much, Hermione thought with a shrug.

She inattentively glanced at the silver watch on her wrist and her eyes widened; she had been in the library for nearly four hours. She hastily began putting books away, hoping she didn't need to be anywhere in particular when she heard the door click as if someone had just entered the room. She looked up, but once again, she saw nothing.

'Relax, Hermione,' she whispered, shaking her head furiously.

She continued to pack up, wondering if there was somewhere she needed to be. If not, she should probably start looking around for her "lost possession" so she didn't end up being in the past for years on end. So long as she didn't outlive her present life in her past one, or her future life in the present? Oh, it was all so confusing.

The distinct sound of someone clearing their throat brought her back to earth. She turned to see Lupin standing by the door, looking at her amusedly.

'So, here's where you've run off to,' he said, an inquisitive expression on his face.

Hermione, who had been in the middle of pushing The Encyclopaedia of Time back into the shelf, pushed it in completely and approached him.

'You missed breakfast, so I brought you this.' He held out a stack of toast on a napkin.

'Oh, thankyou Profe- I mean, thanks Remus, I lost track of the time,' Hermione said, taking the toast gratefully.

His eyes moved to the many books left that were scattered messily on the table. 'Was there something you were, er, looking for?'

'Yes, actually,' she said shortly, taking a bite of toast.

He seemed to be waiting for an answer. When it didn't come he said, 'And ...?'

Hermione continued to chew her toast. 'And ...' she repeated, half to annoy him, half because she was hungry.

He allowed several seconds for her to finish her sentence before giving up and narrowing his eyes pointedly. 'Well, did you find it?'

'I found what I was looking for yes, but I'm looking for something else as well which won't be so easy to find ...'

Remus chuckled. 'Lost something already?' He sat down on the table, looking up at her impertinently. 'You've only been here one night.'

'Look, it's very complicated, and I'd rather not discuss it with you!' Hermione retorted heatedly.

He put his hands out in mild defence, raising his eyebrows. Hermione knew she was being surly, but this whole situation was stressing her out enough without being asked stupid questions that not even she knew the answer to. She sighed and leaned against a bookshelf, looking at him tiredly.

'Sorry,' she muttered.

He lowered his hands and gave her a lopsided grin. 'Can I ask you one more thing without you biting my head off?'

'Can't guarantee it,' she replied acidly. 'But go on.'

'What is it, exactly, that you've lost?'

'Well, that's the thing,' she said, sitting down next to him and giving him a challenging look as if daring him to call her crazy. 'I don't actually know.'

He smiled at her as if this was a joke. 'You don't know?' he repeated when she didn't clarify. 'How can you be looking for something if you don't know what you're looking for?'

I was sent here by a piece of artwork, she wanted to snap, enough said.

She placed the remaining toast in his hands and got up. 'I just can,' she said loftily. Then, taking reverse steps towards the door added, 'I'll see you later ... Remus. Retornare.'

She pointed her wand at the books on the table and they zoomed neatly back to their shelves.

'Hey,' he sounded. 'Where are you going?'

'To start looking!' she called back and disappeared out the door.

I wish she'd stop doing that, Lupin thought irritably, jogging to catch up with her.

'Well, how about I look with you?' he reasoned, trying to keep up with her swift pace.

'If you must,' she said impatiently, as they passed a chattering group of first years that Remus nearly crashed into.

'But could I ask you one thing?' he said again, swooping sideways to avoid them and stumbling. They laughed and catcalled after him.

No! She nodded.

'If you don't know what you're looking for, how will you ever know if you've found it?' His eyes flashed almost triumphantly at the sudden halt of her automatic know-it-all stance.

Hermione stopped as they reached the front door in the Entrance Hall, considering this. That was one thing she had not thought of; if she ever did find the something that she had lost, then how would she be aware that it was, in fact, that something? The book told her that she'd return once she "grasped" her lost possession, but not by simply coming across it. Oh dear.

'I suppose I'll just ... know?' she said slowly, hopefully.

He shook his head sceptically and Hermione shrugged. She made to push open the large wooden doors of the Entrance Hall but stopped, a thought occurring.

'Remus, just out of curiosity, how long were you standing in the library for before I realized?

'I don't know, a couple of seconds, maybe?' he answered, puzzled. 'Why?'

'No reason,' she said.

Pushing open the doors, the two made their way outside, setting off into the bracing morning sunlight.

*-*-*

'So tell me Isabelle,' Remus said, walking casually along the grassy banks of the Hogwarts Lake. 'What is it with you?'

It was one of those rare late-autumn days where the air was crisp, the sky was blue and not a leaf on a tree stirred for the lack of wind plaguing the atmosphere. Robins were chirping in the trees and bouncing along fallen logs, the flowers were still in full bloom, students sat chatting happily to each other and sipping Butterbeer throughout the grounds. Hermione felt like she was trapped in Happy Days.

'What do you mean?' she said as she lifted up a random stone at the foot of an oak and looked underneath it.

'I mean, it's a bit of a mystery why you're here, where you're from, who you are basically. Were you planning to tell anyone?' He ducked his head behind the tree to meet her eyes.

'Oh, it just never really crossed my mind that anybody would want to know,' she said as convincingly as she could. 'I'm from Harper Academy of Magic which is near Gloucestershire, and I moved to Hogwarts because I got a late invitation. Seeing as how good a school it is, I decided it could be worth my while.'

She had rehearsed this a hundred times in her head the previous night in bed and thought it sounded sufficiently plausible. They continued walking.

'What about your parents?'

She bit the side of her tongue. 'What about them?'

'Were they Hogwarts students too?'

Hermione, who was observing a particularly dense bush said, 'No, they're Muggles.'

'Oh I see,' said Lupin, looking behind the bush for her. 'Do you live with them when you're not here?'

'Well, I live with my mother.' She brushed a tendril of hazel hair out of her face and bent down to scrutinize another stone.

'And your father?'

Hermione got a sudden lump in her throat as she stood up; she was hoping he wouldn't ask about him. It had been just over a year, yet she still found it painful to talk about the man who had caused her and her mother so much anguish.

'Do you always ask this many questions?' she said irritably.

He grinned and nodded.

'Well, my father. He ... he ran off about a year ago. I haven't seen him in a while.' She looked away quickly. She wasn't going to cry - she was beyond crying, but if she so happened to let a few tears slip then she didn't want him to see.

'Oh, I'm so sorry ...' Remus said gently, and he looked it. 'I take it you don't want to talk about it?'

'There's nothing to say, really,' Hermione said, trying to sound as if the subject didn't bother her at all.

She stared up at the sky, refusing to look at him. She wanted to raise her head and scream "BASTARD" up to the heavens, but restrained herself.

A heavy silence hung as the two walked along, Hermione checking behind every tree and rock, under every stone and in every bush. Remus studied her carefully, lionizing her, as if trying to figure out a particularly obscure clue in a cryptic crossword.

'You're a strange girl, you know that?' Remus averred. 'I've never met anyone quite like you before.'

She gave a half-hearted shrug. 'I have an unusual life,' she said simply. 'It rubs off on me.'

As much as she may have wanted to, Hermione didn't feel it would be wise to tell Remus too much. It wouldn't really matter if he knew about her parents, as he hadn't got a high chance of meeting them in the future anyway. She wondered if he, Sirius or Peter had ever recognized her in her own time? If this was the case, they most certainly had not shown it. Suddenly Hermione felt a pang of insignificance when she thought about the future Lupin and how he had never shown any signs of recognition towards her. She had changed her looks a bit - she could now manage to keep her hair looking vaguely presentable, it would have been a crime not to place a few charms on it ... every so often ... once a week ... every day. She had also grown over the years, not only by height but as a person.

Oh well, she mused. It's all for the greater good.

'Isabelle, come take a look at this,' said Remus, interrupting her thoughts.

He was bending down, holding something shiny in his hand. Hermione became suddenly interested in a cloud that was shaped like a boat.

'Isabelle,' he said again when she didn't respond. 'Isabelle?'

Hermione had never seen such a pretty cloud. It had big sails and a mermaid on the front and everything. What if she could just jump on board and be carried away? That would be nice.

'Isabelle!'

Hermione shot around. 'Oh ... yes?'

This whole "Isabelle" thing was going to take some getting used to. She knelt down next to him and he held a ring in front of her.

'This was lying under a stone, could it be what you're looking for?'

It was certainly a striking piece of jewellery, sterling silver and unscathed except for a patch of grime on the inside that didn't even look permanent. It donned three quaint blue gems that shined like the most scintillating of sapphires on the front, and would easily be worth a good lot of money. Hermione gazed at it longingly but as she took it delicately from Remus and examined it, she felt no sort of connection.

'No,' she shook her head a little disappointedly. 'That's not it.'

He stood up and crossed his arms. 'Maybe it's a sign,' he proposed.

'That's cryptic,' Hermione said, standing up herself and eyeing him sceptically. 'How do you figure that?'

'Things aren't always as they seem, are they?' He gave a very self-satisfied smile; he must have thought he sounded philosophical.

Hermione responded with a derisive snort and flicked the ring away. Remus stopped smiling and puckered his brow crossly. 'What did you do that for?' he said, picking up the ring again.

'Someone might want to come back for it,' she pointed out.

'Of course they won't, otherwise they wouldn't have left it here, would they?' He rubbed it on his robes and pocketed it. Hermione felt a strong urge to roll her eyes.

'Have it your way then,' she sighed, and they began walking back to the castle.

*-*-*

Later that evening, Hermione found herself and Remus lying in the middle of the Quidditch pitch on their backs, staring up at the night sky. It was a little chilly, but Hermione didn't mind. The stars were speckled above her, seeming to scrutinize her just as much as she was them. While she was talented at Astronomy, she often mused disappointedly that she'd never have the true eye for it, as centaurs did. What was it that was so hard to figure about the night sky that apparently brandished all - if she could read books, then why couldn't she read the stars?

She felt Remus's eyes on her, but she didn't turn to him.

'What is it, then?' she asked eventually.

'I was just wondering what kinds of dreams and aspirations someone like you would have ...' he replied unexpectedly.

Hermione looked at him in dubiously. 'Someone like me? Oh, honestly!' She paused, raising an eyebrow. ' ... Is that supposed to be a pick-up line?'

He laughed heartily at her and looked back up at the sky. Her eyes blazed. 'Remus!' she said warningly.

He was smiling. 'No, no, no, I was genuinely interested!'

She relaxed and followed his gaze, resting her hands by her sides. 'In that case ...' and she laughed a little too, 'Dreams, huh? Interesting question.'

'And once again, you have shrewdly avoided answering it,' he said with a note relish.

She frowned slightly. 'It's true though. I hardly even know what my dreams are ...' she tailed off. A gush of wind made the surrounding Quidditch stands creak and rattle. Hermione shivered. 'I suppose that my ultimate dream would be - and please don't cringe - happiness.'

He turned to her, interested.

'Happiness not only for me, but for my friends, my family, my pets ...' She smiled at the memory of Crookshanks before clucking her tongue reproachfully. 'It would be nice, don't you think? One day, not having to worry or fret over someone you love. To know everything's all right, and that it's going to stay that way for good.'

She waited for a response, but Remus seemed to be considering something and remained silent. Hermione laughed suddenly.

'It's stupid,' she said firmly, shaking her head. 'And selfish, I shouldn't have said -'

'It's not,' he interrupted softly.

'What?' she said edgily, annoyed that he'd ever asked such a personal question in the first place.

'I was just thinking,' he started, and let out sniff of laughter, 'that it's the most unselfish thing I think I've ever heard anyone say.'

Hermione snorted. 'Oh, what rubbish!'

'No, really!' he said in a mild tone, still laughing. 'And that wasn't a pick-up line, I promise.'

'All right, then,' she said airily, and bristled. 'Just to even the score, I think it's about time I asked you a difficult and thought-provoking question, as you seem to be so full of them today.'

He grinned readily. 'Go on, then.'

Hermione racked her brain; she didn't actually have a question in mind. Finally -

'What is your greatest fear?'

He looked taken aback. Hermione wondered how truthful he would actually be; she'd seen his greatest fear by means of a Boggart in her third year, and thus, along with other clues, discovered his true identity as a werewolf. Sure enough, Remus's eyes flicked upwards to the waning moon, but didn't linger for more than a second before they returned to meet Hermione's.

'The truth is,' he sighed, looking at her seriously. Hermione's breathing shortened. 'The truth is that ...' He blinked -

'I'm not scared of anything.'

Hermione stared at him. He stared back. The two burst out laughing.

'Wonderful!' Hermione gushed sarcastically. 'I put up with your useless questions all day, and, as we've just established, all night, and as soon as I come up with one ... "shrewdly avoiding answering" indeed!'

'I thought I was being quite funny,' Remus retorted, and he certainly seemed to believe it. He was still chuckling to himself, shaking his head.

'Oh, well, that's reassuring,' Hermione said flatly, though with a hint of amusement. 'I'm so glad that you think -'

At that moment, Remus's hand brushed against hers. They both flinched, and Remus cleared his throat awkwardly.

'I -' he began.

'Thinking ... Moony?' came a sudden voice, and the two of them sat up as quickly as if the grass had caught fire. 'Well, I never saw that one coming!'

Before Hermione could turn around, Sirius had landed in between them, looking from one to the other with a mischievous glint in his eye.

'Unlike you, Padfoot, who always did have more balls than brains,' replied Remus cheerfully, slapping him on the back. 'Erm, speaking of which - I didn't realize you had company.'

Hermione looked behind her. Standing several feet away was a very pretty Asian girl who kept shooting impatient glances at Sirius, her arms crossed.

'So I do,' said Sirius vaguely, sounding slightly bored. 'Anyway,' he continued enthusiastically, 'what, in the name of Dumbledore, would you two be doing out all alone on a night such as this?'

He snickered. Clearly he found himself very amusing.

'Well, what were you doing?' Hermione piped up defensively.

Sirius turned to Asian girl standing by herself and smirked pleasantly. 'I know what I was doing, Isabelle,' he said confidently, before faking a sudden look of embarrassment. 'Oh, right, then. Sorry, I'll leave you both to it -'

'We came out here to look at the stars, actually, Sirius,' Remus said loudly.

Sirius beamed. 'Ah yes,' He winked. 'The stars, of course.'

'It's true!' Hermione said indignantly, glaring at him. He was a charming and funny boy, that Sirius, when his fun wasn't being aimed at her.

'Of course it is, Isabelle,' Sirius assured her slowly, as if he was talking to a young child.

Before she could argue, he stood up exuberantly, blowing them a kiss as he staggered backwards. 'But you could have looked at the stars in the Great Hall!'

And with that, he turned and sauntered back to the now positively fuming girl. She opened her mouth to say something but seemed to calm down when Sirius placed a self-assured arm around her, and whispered something in her ear. They left Hermione and Remus alone.

'What he doesn't know, is that James and I have pictures of him and that girl's twin sister, er, how should I put it? - fraternizing in the Astronomy tower,' Remus said, as the two of them gaped after Sirius. He brightened and rubbed his hands together. 'Revenge will be sweet.'

Hermione shook her head disbelievingly. The Marauders were worse than Fred, George and Draco Malfoy put together. She loved them already.