Claire De Lune

Claire De Lune

Chapter Three: Relegare In Praetor

The next morning, Hermione awoke feeling discombobulated. The horrible lethargy that had taken residence in her body since the start of Harry's mission still remained. Looking back on recent events, she realized that exhaustion might be her companion for a very, very long time.

Groaning, she sat up and rubbed her forehead. A few feeble rays of sunlight sparkled through the windows in the kitchen, and the smell of moist grass was distinct in the air. As Hermione shifted her position, the antiquated springs beneath her squeaked loudly, causing Ron to stir.

She froze and watched him anxiously. Moaning tiredly, Ron rolled onto his back and rubbed his eyes. He yawned.

"Not tossing and turning again, are you?" he asked thickly.

"No, I just woke up," said Hermione, swinging her legs over onto the floor and running her fingers through her hair. Ron sat up slowly and squinted up at her.

"Too early for you to get up, don't you think?"

"It's not when you're about to be sent back in time to Merlin-knows-where . . . or when, I should say." Hermione stood up quickly and walked into the kitchen. After filling a glass with cold water, she leaned against the sink, peering at the bright red roses framing the window from outside. A droplet of water rolled down the petal of a particularly large flower, and her eyes followed its descent. Slowly, slowly . . . until it finally slipped off the edge. There was a sudden pang in her stomach. Her fate could mirror that of the tiny droplet.

Setting her jaw on a firm line, she turned away from the window, clutching the glass tightly. Over and over, she told herself, This is for Harry. This is for Harry.

"Hermione?"

Ron approached her from the doorway leading to the living room. Drowsiness was still present in his face, and he yawned once more as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Hermione eyed him with slight amusement.

"Go back to sleep, Ron."

"Not while you're caught up in your own world again," said Ron, standing beside her. He frowned at her with concern. "You don't have to do this, you know? The Order can find another person to pick on."

"No, they can't. And I want to do this, Ron, it's just--" Hermione broke off with a sigh and lifted the glass of water to her lips. Swallowing slowly, she continued, "This is my part in the war, and I won't back out, no matter what Harry says. I know he's still furious with me." She smiled grimly.

Ron rolled his eyes, but smiled in the same fashion. "I don't want you to go. I'd rather Harry did it, but there's nothing I can do, is there?"

Hermione turned to look at him incredulously. "What do you mean, you'd rather Harry did it? Didn't you hear what Professor Lupin said? He can't go back there; it's too risky!"

"I know, Hermione, but--" Ron scratched his nose and faltered, searching for the right words. "I don't want you to get hurt, either. It's--it's frightening to think that you could be somewhere in 1980 facing some bloody monster, where neither Harry nor I would be able to help you. Harry's scared and--well, so am I. I'm bloody terrified, Hermione."

As he said these words, Hermione watched him in awe. Ron was finally showing her his sentimental side, after all these years. Frankly, there weren't many conversations without bickering between the two of them, and this was shaping up to be one of them. Smiling gently, she touched his arm.

"I can't promise that I won't get hurt because this is a dangerous mission," she began slowly. "And I'm scared too, Ron, I really am. But we need the amulet to win the war, and if the Order wants me to do it, I will."

"I hate it when you're so bloody noble," said Ron, smiling ruefully at her. "The two of you; you and Harry. You're always off saving someone's life or something. Don't you feel the stress of it all?"

"Of course we do," answered Hermione, smiling softly and resting her head on his shoulder. "That's why we have you to fall back to when we can't go on any further."

Ron's arms went around her shoulders, and he pulled her towards him in a tight embrace. Hermione closed her eyes and basked in his warmth, briefly forgetting that in just a few hours, she would face an insurmountably perilous task that could change her life forever.

*

Tick, tock, tick, tock. . .

The steady, rhythmic sound of the grandfather clock seemed to drill a hole into Hermione's brain as she, Harry, and Ron sat in a far corner, waiting for the meeting to commence. Several senior Order members crowded in the living room: Lupin, Moody, Minerva McGonagall, Nymphadora Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Mr. Weasley. All of them were working feverishly, but not one of the teenagers had the faintest idea about what they were doing.

Harry wordlessly played with a loose seam on Hermione's traveling bag, while Ron was bent over, resting his elbows on his knees and staring hollowly at the floor. Hermione watched them, undecided about how she should feel: excited, anxious, frightened . . . the whirlwind of emotions bounced painfully off the walls of her stomach, making her nauseous.

Tick, tock, tick, tock . . .

Hermione drew her attention to Moody, whose wooden leg was making dull clonking noises on the floor as he moved around, drawing something on the wooden planks with his wand. She gazed at him unseeingly for a while before turning to watch Lupin, McGonagall, and Mr. Weasley, who were deep in conversation while poring over a large, dusty volume propped on the backrest of the couch.

Tonks and Kingsley were seated on the floor by the fireplace. Stacks of books surrounded them, and pieces of parchment fluttered about as they both wrote agitatedly. Hermione's stare settled on Tonks, whose usual bubblegum pink hair was now a bright, bright red, probably manifesting overwhelming stress. Page after page, she viciously flipped through a particularly large book, pausing only to record some important point before tearing further through the text.

Tick, tock, tick--

BONG! BONG!

The grandfather clock struck two, startling Hermione out of her trance. She turned to glare accusingly at the offending contraption, which had emitted another cloud of dust.

"We're running out of time," said Lupin as he glanced around the room. "Tonks, Kingsley, are you both ready?"

"Almost done, Remus," answered Tonks, looking up to smile briefly at him before going back to work. Lupin didn't seem to find her reply satisfying, but he remained silent and walked over to Moody. He whispered something into the elderly man's ear, and Moody nodded. Turning back to McGonagall and Mr. Weasley, he nodded.

Moody made a loud harrumph. "We still don't have a name, Remus."

"I have that all planned out, Mad-Eye, not to worry," said Lupin, looking at the grandfather clock again. His eyes rested on Hermione for a moment, and he smiled, just barely. Hermione took this as a sign of encouragement, and she did her best to return it. Lupin opened his mouth, as if to say something, but Ron spoke up beside her.

Running his fingers through his hair, he started, "This is dragging on too long."

"They're probably fine-tuning all the details," said Harry, talking for the first time since the Order members had arrived.

With some surprising difficulty, Hermione tore her gaze from her former teacher and looked at her best friends. "The sooner we get this over with, the better, isn't it?"

"We have the same mindset, Hermione, unfortunately." Harry smiled ruefully at her. "I can't stand the suspense. The sooner you go, the sooner you'll get back."

"You're that excited to send her off, are you?" Ron raised an eyebrow at him. "I would've expected more loyalty from someone of your caliber."

"I am loyal. You damn well know I don't want Hermione to do this, but I believe in her, and whatever happens, I know she'll do a good job."

Hermione smiled at the both of them, despite the harsh pangs of sadness in her chest. "I'm glad you aren't pulling another 'Hermione can't go' tantrum."

"We planned to, but Ron pointed out that the chances of us persuading you are zilch," said Harry.

"You could have used your caliber as an argument," Hermione managed to tease. Harry gave a faint, boyish smile and scratched a spot on his cheek, but didn't reply.

Finally, Tonks stood up and waved a wad of parchment in the air. "We're done!"

"Excellent." Lupin pulled his wand out from his pocket and turned to Hermione. "We're ready for you."

His last statement echoed within Hermione's mind, and with thickened resolve, she nodded and stood. Harry and Ron rose beside her, and together the three of them walked over to the middle of the room. Tonks and Kingsley joined them, as well, while arranging rolls of parchment.

Lupin smiled gently. "Are you all right, Hermione? Feeling okay?"

"I'm fine," said Hermione as she folded her arms together and took a deep breath. "So . . . what do I have to do?"

"Well, we're sending you to a time where people who are alive today will remember you, so we devised the perfect incognito for you," explained Tonks. One by one, she handed the parchment to Hermione as she went on, "You will go as a student at the International Post-Seventh-Year Academy of Magic, studying beastiaries. You will draw little or no suspicion at all because it was a trend for Hogwarts graduates in the eighties, and the school was sponsored by the Ministry of Magic at the time."

"Do I need any identification?" asked Hermione as she scanned the parchment.

"Well, you won't necessarily go to the school because we're sending you back in July, and it's summer break," answered Kingsley. "Formal identification isn't essential, but if anyone asks, that's what you'll tell them, all right?"

"Okay," nodded Hermione as she tried to condense this information as organized as she could in her head.

"Also, you will say that you are majoring in werewolf studies," added Tonks. "The Ministry wasn't that strict with their archives at the time, so that can also give you an added chance to do extensive research. Then, of course, there's the Library of Magic, where you can also find comprehensive information."

"You must find Benjy Fenwick," stressed Kingsley. "Voldemort used his death to create the Horcrux, so if you know where he was last seen, you'll be able to find clues as to where the Horcrux is. Think you got all that?"

Hermione nodded again as she neatly rolled all the pieces of parchment together. "Yes, I think I did. But where will I stay? Were you able to make any arrangements?"

"I'm sorry, Hermione, but that's impossible on our part." Tonks smiled apologetically at her. "I'm afraid we have to leave that up to your resourcefulness."

"What?" sputtered Hermione, feeling panicked for the first time.

Harry and Ron were expressing their concerns as well. "You can't just dump her there like a sack of gnomes and just leave her there to fend for herself!" exclaimed Ron.

"There's got to be something you could do," said Harry, turning to Lupin. "I'm not letting her go there without any assurance of her safety."

"Don't worry you two, she'll be fine, I promise," stated Lupin benevolently. "One term of the spell affirms that the first person she meets will help her no matter what. She'll be in safe hands."

"Can you guarantee that?" asked Harry almost accusingly.

There was an odd look in Lupin's eyes as he said, "You have my word, Harry."

Harry's mouth straightened into a thin line, but he nodded all the same. Hermione unconsciously released a sigh of relief and chewed her lower lip thoughtfully. "All right, well, I'll need another name, too, won't I?"

"That's all been taken care of," replied Lupin. "We all decided on a name that could help you blend in. Of course, if you don't like it, you can most definitely think of something else."

"What did you choose?"

"'Jane Conway'. 'Jane' is your middle name. Plus, 'Conway' is Welsh for 'wolf'. I--we thought it suits your mission perfectly."

"It's fine," said Hermione, smiling slightly. "It's a lovely name."

"I hope you're getting all of this in your head, Granger," growled Moody from the corner.

"Yes, sir."

Moody rolled his eyes--both of them in unison--and limped towards her. "What is your name again?"

"Err . . . Jane Conway," answered Hermione, eyeing the ex-Auror warily as he moved even closer to her.

"Exactly," rumbled Moody in a very loud, intimidating voice. "Your name, from now on, is Jane Conway, not Hermione Granger. You will answer to nothing but Jane Conway or Jane or Conway, but not Hermione or Granger. When called 'Granger', you ignore the person because you are not Granger anymore but Jane Conway. Do you understand me, Granger?"

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but then realized what she was doing and clamped her lips together. Moody nodded at her with satisfaction, and then clonked back to his spot in the corner, where he scrutinized a symbol he had drawn on the floor.

Anxiously, Hermione turned to Harry and Ron, who were looking equally worried.

"You'll be fine, Hermione." Mr. Weasley rubbed her back comfortingly as Lupin nodded to McGonagall. The Hogwarts professor then motioned for Hermione to follow her.

"Right this way, Miss Granger."

"You can say your goodbyes now, Hermione," said Lupin softly. "We're going to perform the spell on you afterwards."

Hermione immediately threw her arms around Harry and embraced him as tightly as she could. "I'll miss you," she whispered fiercely. Instantly, she felt tears welling in her eyes and she just let them fall. This was the first time she would leave on a magical journey without her best friends, and she eagerly savored their last few moments together.

Harry hugged her back with the same ardor, and then pulled away and gripped her shoulders. "You'll be okay, Hermione, you'll be fine." He wiped away her tears and managed a small, shaky smile. "I trust you. You'll be all right."

Hermione nodded slowly, and then turned to Ron. Impulsively, she kissed the corner of his mouth and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Bye, Ron."

"Take care, Hermione," murmured Ron.

"You too."

After a few more ardent hugs, Hermione finally backed away from the two of them, clutching her traveling bag. "I love you both," she said hoarsely.

Their impish smiles were enough to fill her heart with strengthened determination, and she turned to walk over to where McGonagall, Lupin, and Mr. Weasley were standing.

On the floor was a circular symbol, drawn in white chalk. Inside the circle was an hourglass shape, and drawn right down the center was a series of nine circles of varying sizes, representing planetary alignment.

"Stand in the middle of the circle," instructed McGonagall, sounding as if she was teaching in one of her classes. "You will also need an item from the year you are going back to. It will serve as your link to the present. Without it, you won't be able to return."

Hermione did as she was told, wiping her cheeks as she did. Lupin then approached her and placed a silver ring in her hands. "This is the item from that time period," he said softly, as he closed her fingers around the piece of jewelry. He gazed at her intensely. "This ring is very special, as was the person who gave it to me. Please take good care of it."

"I will," promised Hermione. She carefully slipped the ring onto her left ring finger. Funnily enough, it was a perfect fit.

"Now, listen closely," said McGonagall. "Every day that passes in the past will equal only a minute in the present. If you return after sixty days in the past, you will only be absent for an hour in the present. This is very different from Time-Turners, Miss Granger, so it's imperative that you keep that in mind."

Hermione nodded to show that she understood, and her teacher continued, "Also, three people are needed to perform the spell: a parent-figure, a mentor, and a friend. Arthur, Remus, and I have all volunteered to act as the executors. I think you can figure out for yourself which positions we chose to fulfill.

"Each of us will say an ancient verse, and then we will all say the spell at the same time. Listen to the verse carefully because the words will serve as your guidelines. Although, I am not too worried because I have explained the terms of time travel to you in the past." McGonagall smiled encouragingly, and Hermione flashed her a look of gratitude.

"Are you ready, Hermione?" asked Mr. Weasley.

"Yes," replied Hermione.

Lupin, McGonagall, and Mr. Weasley then stood around her, wands at the ready. Hermione turned her gaze to Harry and Ron, and never took her eyes off them while the three adults performed the spell.

Mr. Weasley raised his wand and recited the stanza reserved for the parent-figure:

Change thee not the sands of time
Virgin grains and souls divine
Touch you these and time is lost
Pay you an unworldly cost

A beam of white light emitted from his wand and wound itself around Hermione. McGonagall went next:

Fulfill thy mission, as time doth burn
When injured grave, thou shalt return
Or when you find that which you lack
Thy magic true will bring you back

Another beam of white light surrounded Hermione, and she took a sharp intake of breath. Any moment now, she will be flying back into 1980. Lupin followed:

The present's minute to a day
In the era thee shall stay
If thou violates this ancient code
To the murky depths, thy soul betrothed

The final beam of light encircled Hermione so that she was engulfed in a blinding illumination. Still, her eyes were fixed on Harry and Ron's awestruck faces as the three adults raised their wands and uttered the final spell.

"Relegare in praetor!"

Hermione hung on to her bag tightly as she felt herself spin faster and faster. Strong wind howled viciously in her ears as she felt the floor disappear from beneath her feet. In a shower of glittering blue sparks, she was gone.