Before the Moon Rises

Author's Notes: These past few chapters have been much shorter, I know. I wanted each of these chapters to convey a specific point and I felt that dragging them out to 20+ pages would only water everything down and take away from the emotions I wanted you to take away with you after you'd finished each one. The chapters after this one will become longer again. Thanks for reading.

BEFORE THE MOON RISES

A Stranger at Home

Chapter Sixteen

"I want to hold you now

And listen to you breathe

It's like the ocean sound

Whispering through the trees

In the hollow of your shoulder

There's a tide pool of my tears

Where the waves come crashing over

And the shoreline disappears

So let 'em turn my soul

Seven shades of blue

And with the ocean's roll

I will wave to you."--Beth Nielsen Chapman

January 1998

Hermione felt lost in a world of silver until everything stopped. She opened her eyes slowly and found herself standing alone in the library. Hogwarts, A History was lying closed at her feet. She bent over and picked it up in her hands, wondering if she were caught inside another dream.

Someone cleared their throat behind her. "The library will be closing in five minutes. Are you going to check out that book or stare at it all night?"

Hermione turned around slowly with the book in her hands and looked at Madam Pince. "I'm going to check it out," she said quietly.

"Good. I haven't got time for dawdlers."

The librarian walked away and Hermione glanced down at the book in her hands. She opened it up quickly, thinking some of the magic might still exist inside its pages and take her back to Remus, but nothing happened. She closed it and then opened it once more, just to make sure. She frowned as she realized there would be no going back to 1978--her life there was over.

She walked slowly up to the front desk and Madam Pince efficiently checked the book out to her, warning her of the consequences if the book was tampered with or destroyed. Hermione nodded her head and heard the words through a thick fog that seemed to invade every part of her body.

She pushed open the doors to the library and walked toward the grand staircase. She noticed little things along the way that were different from how they were in 1978. Her mind kept trying to cleverly avoid the biggest difference of all--there wasn't a Remus Lupin that loved her...not here.

He couldn't possibly love her or know her. A small voice in her head said, you told him your name. Surely he would remember that. But obviously he had not remembered because he would have said something to her by now. She had known him for five years and he had never once treated her any differently. Her feelings were so intense for Remus; how would she ever act normally around him again?

She turned a corner and almost bumped into the headmaster.

"Oh, Professor Dumbledore! I'm sorry, I didn't see you there," she said, pressing her journal and Hogwarts, A History to her chest.

"Miss Granger," he replied, looking down at her and smiling, "did you have a nice trip?"

"What? I've only just been to the library," she said in confusion.

"Yes, of course," he said, nodding his head.

She looked up at him and wondered briefly if he knew something he wasn't saying, but she was much too tired to spend any more time wondering. "Goodnight," she said quietly. Dumbledore nodded again and watched as Hermione walked away.

Soon she found herself standing outside the portrait of the Fat Lady. She hadn't even realized she was there already. She spoke the password and the portrait swung open. Hermione crawled inside and entered the common room.

Dean, Seamus and Ron were sitting on the couch still debating Quidditch. Harry was standing near the hearth and he looked up when he saw her. She immediately thought of James, and then Lily...and then Sirius...then Peter...and finally Remus--but they had all been gone from this common room for many years...it was strange how she had just seen them in this very same room only hours before. She swallowed and avoided Harry's gaze.

She dropped the book onto Ron's lap and continued walking without speaking to any of them. The boys on the couch exchanged glances.

"Thanks Hermione," Ron said quietly, sensing a strangeness in her behavior. She said nothing.

Harry watched her walk through the common room, frowning. Before she could disappear up the staircase, he called out to her.

"Hermione?"

She stopped walking, one foot resting on the bottom stair. She turned to look at him, the scene reminding her of a different time when a group of friends stood in the Gryffindor common room with their faces turned up to hers and one boy watching her intently as they all waited in an anxious silence. But the time was different and the faces had all changed.

"Yes?"

"Are you okay?"

This time her statement only spoke half the truth. "Yes. It's been a long day."

She turned away from Harry and the others and walked up the quiet staircase with feet of lead and a heart full of something much heavier.

Her heart continued to sink lower and lower as she walked. Once inside her room, she dropped her journal onto her trunk, crawled into her bed, pulled the curtains closed and laid back on her pillow. She felt like a stranger in her own bed...like a stranger in her own time.

How would she ever live without Remus' love? How would she ever forget what it felt like to be held by him, kissed by him? The pain burned inside and it left behind a hollow feeling of nothingness.

Her grief was immense but she could not find the tears to cry. Perhaps when the sorrow is so profound the outward emotions fall away and leave numbness behind. She knew the grief was screaming and echoing hopelessly in the depths of her soul...and perhaps some part of her was weeping there. Breathing seemed difficult and she struggled to remember to inhale; when she did, she pulled in broken shallow bits of air, only intensifying the silent anguish surrounding her...suffocating her.

She closed her eyes and prayed for some kind of release but her prayers went unanswered. Finally exhaustion claimed her and took her away to a dark sleep without the comfort of dreams.