Moonslave and Mourner

Hermione sat staring out the window of her bedroom at Grimmauld Place. No one really wanted to be here after Sirius' death, but no one really had a choice.

Harry was first to arrive, one day after the summer started. He had been at Privet Drive, but the Death Eaters had tracked him down, and killed his family. They had then tried to abduct him, the OotP members were luckily just in time to save him. After Harry was Ron and his family, they had come because the Death Eaters were also out to get them. Just two days after they arrived, their home, the Burrow was destroyed. Ron didn't want to admit it but he surely missed the Ghoul in the Attic. After them was she, Hermione.

She had been with Viktor and both of their parents when it had happened. Voldemort had shown up, Wormtail and Karkaroff in tail. They were in Belgium at the time. Four shots of the deathcurse and their parents were dead. Viktor came between her and the Imperius Curse then got hit out of his senses with Crucio. She had retched, no dignity spared. She had always been quick with her wand, and she took her own distraction as advantage when Voldemort laid out that awful, high-pitched laugh. She didn't cry then, just lifted her wand, and created her own curse. "Mortis Arterius!" she had yelled. Wormtail had keeled over, rasping for breath, his veins popping out of his skin and spilling blood all over. She had felt mirth at his suffering. Voldemort had still been absorbed in his own heartiness, she had taken a chance with Karkaroff, but something had interrupted her.

A loud CRACK behind her, next second her hand was thrusted onto an old shoe. There was a pulling behind her navel and she landed with a thump on someone. It turned out to be Remus Lupin, she was there, in Grimmauld place. The last place she wanted to be. She had just wanted to die, she had never liked mourning, that's why. She stood up, he stood up, she slapped him so hard his mouth bled, she started yelling her head off at him. Anger surging through her veins, energy pops tickled the air, she would have been able to make everything explode around her, if it wasn't for the little inkling of relief that had also welled up inside her. Then, when she released this, she fled, up the stairs, into the attic. There she sat, shivering, unwilling to let just one tear be shed. All she wanted was revenge, to be left alone aswell. She sat there for most of the day and night, grateful that Ron and Harry had the sense not to disturb her, just brought her some chicken soup, which she didn't touch at all.

The next afternoon, she woke up with a blanket spread over her. She sat up, seeing a pair of eyes staring at her. The eyes of a werewolf, still in human form. She couldn't help herself. She crawled nearer to him, laid her head on his shoulder and let the floodwall break. She cried for many hours, she still sat in his arms the next morning. They had sat together, even when he had transformed.

Later she again took up her relentless reading routine. This time however, she searched for something to hold onto. Something to keep her stable. She interacted normally with everyone, she had let go of her pain, and she was refreshed.

That's why she sat staring out the window, a month later, at the full moon. Remus Lupin, no longer werewolf, but restored man, by her side. They were holding hands, chatting idly. Both reminiscing about the beautiful, blessed moon, something Remus would never have done if it weren't for Hermione. She had found his cure, half out of an unknown fairytale, the rest from her heart. She was the cure.

True love, was both their savior...