Claire De Lune

Clair De Lune
Chapter Seven: Confessions

August 2, 1997 2:38 PM

The mood downstairs was tense and stressful. In the kitchen, Kingsley, McGonagall and Moody sat at the small round table, drinking copious amounts of coffee. Tonks had gone up to speak to Lupin. Mr. Weasley had returned home to the Burrow, but not before wringing his hands nervously and muttering to himself after Hermione had left. Harry and Ron were in front of the fireplace. The former paced incessantly while the redhead was sprawled on the couch, his face pale beneath his freckles.

Harry didn't know how long he had been walking up and down the frayed rug, but he never seemed to tire. His whole body was filled with adrenaline, and he anxiously awaited Hermione's return. As he checked the clock on the mantle, he noted the days that had gone by in the past. '5 minutes-5 days . . .'

The fire crackled merrily, the only sign of cheerfulness in the terse atmosphere that had descended upon them. Harry paused in his feverish movements to glare spitefully at the flames. He was getting more anxious with every minute that passed; every minute he expected Hermione to pop, materialize, or . . . anything that would indicate that she was back.

Sighing, Harry continued his rigid steps. Unable to control himself, he said, "She's been there for too long. I'm insanely worried, Ron. I wonder if she found any clues to the Horcrux."

Ron looked up at him with weary, irritated eyes. "I honestly think that Hermione's safety is more important right now than those bloody Horcruxes, Harry."

Harry stopped again and gazed down at his best friend, his eyebrows meeting dangerously. Ron met him with a furious stare of his own and for a moment, neither of them spoke. Harry could sense that Ron was trying to come up with another biting remark, so he overrode him and snapped, "I have the right to worry, too, Ron."

"Yeah, about magical objects, apparently," retorted Ron.

"Look, just because I haven't fallen madly in love with her doesn't mean I don't have the right to worry about her!" Harry half-shouted, his bitter emotions getting the better of him. He was resentful and guilty that he hadn't put up a more convincing reason to go on the mission. He was anxious about what Hermione was going through at this very minute. He needed to know what and how she was doing. Yet, he knew . . . Ron felt the same way.

The redhead spluttered obtusely. "I-no-that is not what I meant, Harry!"

Harry rolled his eyes and leaned against the concrete wall beside the hearth. "Open your bleeding eyes, Ron. Everyone got the point in fourth year except you."

Ron gaped at him, his mouth opening and closing, yet releasing no sound. Harry felt a sensation of furious triumph, and after one last haughty glance at the other boy, he resumed pacing. There was an awkward moment of silence between the two friends, Hermione Granger forefront on both their minds. After a while, Ron sighed heavily and scratched one of his reddening ears.

"It's complicated, Harry," he murmured finally.

Harry paused yet again and eyed Ron incredulously. "'Complicated'? How is it complicated? You have feelings for her, don't you?" he said exasperatedly.

"Yes-but . . . ."

Ron stared right at him, uncertainty and trepidation marring his blue eyes. Harry looked back steadily, trying to decipher the unspoken words that Ron was trying to convey. And suddenly, everything became clear to him. Ron wasn't the least bit nervous about approaching Hermione. He was anxious about something else.

Irritated though he was at Ron's daftness, Harry was pleasantly surprised. He released a deep breath and propped an elbow on the mantle. "Ron, I honestly have no problem with it, if that's what's bugging you. But if you call her 'Herm-Herm' or something, then I have to put my foot down."

The look on Ron's face was unreadable for a moment, and then his mouth upturned into a lopsided smile. The tension was lifted and the conflict resolved. Harry grinned impishly as he and Ron exchanged a look of deep understanding.

*

August 8, 1980. 2:47 AM.

As Harry slept peacefully, Remus sat quite rigidly in his seat as Jane gently peeled the dried blood off his face. She was calm and composed now, and she had wiped the tearstains from her cheeks. Only the puffiness of her eyes gave away any signs that she had cried, but the redness could mean lack of sleep, too. Remus observed her through his bureau mirror as she worked, and he grimaced at the huge amount of murky brown chunks matted to his skin.

Not a word has passed between them since Jane offered to clean his wound for him. Fifteen minutes or so had gone by, and Remus would not exactly call their silence awkward, but it wasn't companionable either. She still held herself tautly around him; then again, it wasn't as if he visited the Potters everyday. He hadn't seen much of her since they met on his front lawn, but it surprised him greatly that he often thought about her . . . always wondered if she was safe and if she was adjusting well to her new home.

At last, Jane spoke, breaking into his thoughts. "Does it hurt?" she inquired.

"Not so much now," replied Remus. He observed his reflection in the mirror. The gash on his face was at least three inches long and considerably deep. Flinching at the sight of exposed tissue, he diverted his gaze away.

Jane gave a small smile and started dabbing it with essence of Murtlap from a bowl perched on the bureau table. White hot pain seared him, and he felt as if his eyes were going to pop out of his head. Seeing his discomfort, she ceased immediately.

"I'm so sorry; I should've warned you," she said meekly.

Remus squeezed his eyes shut as a vein throbbed in his head. "No, keep going. I'd rather endure the pain than have another scar on my face."

Jane shot him a funny look, something Remus took for curiosity, but of course, he chose not to elaborate. He heard her take a deep breath and resume cleaning his injury. Every now and then he winced and jerked involuntarily, but he did not will her to stop. After a few agonizing minutes, she was done, and he unconsciously breathed a sigh of relief. He realized that he should be used to intolerable pain like this, but grave injuries apart from the full moon always seemed to be more unbearable.

Folding the rag neatly on the table, she pulled her wand out and tapped his cheek. The scarred tissues and veins sewed themselves back together, restoring the torn flesh good as new. Remus opened his eyes and touched his cheek, inwardly amazed at her impressive knowledge of healing spells.

"Thank you," he said, smiling with relief and gratitude.

"You're welcome." Jane smiled back and proceeded to tidy up his table, but Remus grabbed her hand to stop her.

"I'll do it," he offered, and before she could protest, he stood up and obliterated the cleaning apparatuses with his wand.

Just then, the door swung open, emitting an eerie squeaky sound that made the hairs on the back of Remus's neck stand on end. Startled, he turned around, his wand aloft. Jane retreated to his side, and he stood in front of her protectively. A shadow of a four-legged creature stretched out on the wooden floor, and then, a huge black dog emerged through the doorway, followed by a magnificent stag. The graceful animal immediately cantered over to where Harry was slumbering, while the dog bounded over to Remus. It stood on its hind legs and put its paws on Remus's shoulders.

"Padfoot," breathed Remus and his face broke out in a broad, ear-to-ear grin. Padfoot barked cheerfully and brought his legs back down on the floor. Peering around Remus, he spotted Jane and quickly licked her face.

The stag walked to the middle of the room, and then suddenly, its antlers shrunk and its body lengthened to morph into the tall figure of James Potter. It was as if he had fallen through bramble bushes. His clothes were torn in various places, and his arms bore thin scratches. Unaware of his disturbing appearance, he quickly strode across the room and embraced Jane tightly.

"Thank you," he murmured, his voice cracking. "He's safe-thank you."

Remus watched as Jane hugged him back, fresh tears clinging to her eyelashes. Biting his lip, he turned away and watched as their canine companion transformed back into Sirius.

"Where's Lily?" asked Remus.

Sirius brushed some stray strands of fur from his leather jacket before responding, "She's at James's parents' house."

"We're staying with them for the time being," inserted James, wiping his glasses on his shirt. His eyes were visibly red from crying, and he quickly wiped the tears away with the heel of his hand. Turning to Jane, he added, "I hope it's all right if you stayed with Remus for the time being. The house at Godric's Hollow is in a right hellish state at the moment, and it will take some time to get it back together. Your things are just outside in the hallway. Sirius and I brought them along."

"Of course," answered Jane with a rather jerky nod. "And if you need any help, James . . . ."

"Don't!" said James forcefully, gripping her elbow. "You've done more than enough. I owe my son's life to you."

Jane's mouth remained open, but nothing came out. James flashed her a rather shaky smile and kissed her cheek gratefully before turning to Remus.

"You don't mind, do you? It's just for a little while. We can visit from time to time and bring you some . . ."

"James, your family is more important right now," said Remus firmly. "Jane and I will be fine. I'll take care of her."

James stared at him intently for a moment, then nodded slowly. Wordlessly, he headed to the other side of the room and picked Harry up. As if sensing for the first time that something was going on, Harry stirred and gave several short cries.

"Shh," murmured James as he pulled a bottle of milk from his pocket and stuck the nipple gently into Harry's mouth. The child stopped immediately as he hungrily sucked on the sweet liquid.

There was a moment of silence while the three other people in the room watched this heartfelt scene. Then, Sirius cleared his throat. "James, we have to go. Lily will be worried."

"Yeah . . ." replied James absentmindedly as he gazed lovingly at the delicate figure in his arms.

Sirius's mouth formed a thin line, and he walked towards his best friend. "Come along, James. Let's go."

Before James could protest, Sirius disappeared, dragging him and Harry in Side-Along Apparition.

*

"You can sleep in my room."

Jane looked up at Remus incredulously from her steaming mug. The two of them had gone to the kitchen after James and Sirius's departure, where Remus fixed them both hot cocoa. They now sat across from each other at the small, square table near the window.

Remus smiled at her ruefully. "It's the most comfortable room in the house at the moment. A ghoul lives in the master bedroom now, and I won't let you sleep in the guest room. The Marauders stayed there when we were in school, and I'm sure there are some dangerous items in there that do not want to be found. You're better off in my room."

"Where are you going to stay?" asked Jane, a look of concern crossing her face.

Remus sipped his cocoa before answering, "I can sleep in the guest room. I know how to handle those objects if they ever decide to bite me. Then, there's always the couch, of course."

Jane was silent for a moment as she surveyed him intently, as if gauging if he was being sincere. Remus stared back at her unwaveringly, silently wondering if she trusted him. Surely she didn't think he'd harm her; it was farthest from the last thing on his mind.

"Jane, I swear . . ." He didn't really know why he was defending himself at the moment, but all he wanted was for her to feel comfortable around him. True, he hadn't spent much time with her to allow her to think that he was a decent bloke, but he vowed to make sure that she knew he'd keep her safe. "I'll make sure your stay here will be as comfortable as possible-I mean-Jane, I won't harm you." An unexpected blush crept up his neck.

She smiled plaintively at these words. "I know you won't." There was a hint of understanding in her eyes that he couldn't quite place, but it was quickly replaced by a thoughtful look as she stared off into space.

Silence followed this short exchange. When the grandfather clock in the living room struck 3:30, Remus finished the last of his drink and brought his cup to the sink to wash it. Jane remained in her seat, seemingly oblivious to the time.

"Aren't you sleepy?" asked Remus as he opened the tap.

"No." Jane downed the remnants of her cocoa and joined him at the sink. "I can do that."

"No hogging house chores," said Remus, blocking her hand as she tried to take the cup from him. He grinned. "That's rule number one."

"You never told me about house rules!" protested Jane. She made to grab the cup from him again, but he raised it out of her reach. After several other failed attempts, she finally surrendered and placed her hands on her hips.

"Fine, I'm going to bed," she announced and, turning on her heel, she strode out of the kitchen.

"Goodnight!" called Remus after her, but he already heard her footsteps ascend the stairs. Shaking his head and laughing to himself, he rinsed the dishes and put them aside to dry.