Before the Moon Rises

BEFORE THE MOON RISES

Bittersweet Valentines

Chapter Seventeen

"It's hard to know when to give up the fight

Some things you want will just never be right

It's never rained like it has tonight before

Now I don't wanna beg you, baby

For something maybe you could never give

I'm not looking for the rest of your life

I just want another chance to live."--Patty Griffin

February 14, 1998

Hermione walked into the common room, yawning and having completely forgotten it was Valentine's Day. She groaned when she saw the red, pink and white decorations everywhere in the common room.

"Good grief," she said, ducking underneath a low hanging streamer made of pink paper hearts.

"I'd agree. It's quite nauseating," Ginny said, walking up to her side.

"What happened in here?"

"No idea. It was some sort of charm that only began to work this morning some time, I think. I had forgotten it was today," Ginny said.

"Me, too." And Hermione looked at the decorations and smiled slightly. She thought of Remus, but it didn't stab at her heart as viciously as it did right after she'd returned. Now it felt like a wonderful dream she'd experienced once--it was bittersweet. She hadn't had to see Remus since her return so she was sure that made things a bit easier. She was slowly adjusting back to her old life, but somehow she knew the ache would never leave her.

She laughed as Ron walked down the stairs and swatted away an arrow fired at him by a paper cupid. "Bloody hell," he said in annoyance.

"Good morning," Harry said to Hermione and Ginny. "Valentine's, is it?"

"It appears so," Hermione answered.

"I'd forgotten."

"So did we," Ginny admitted. "It's probably because we've all had so much more on our minds. There's not been room for much else," she said solemnly, and everyone understood her words. There was a War approaching and trifle things like Valentine's Day were hardly remembered.

"I suppose it is nice to have something light to think on for a day," Hermione said quietly.

"Good point," Harry agreed.

Ron swatted another paper arrow away from his backside. "If you shoot one more arrow at me I swear--" he began yelling at the paper cupid.

"Ron," Hermione scolded.

"What?"
"It's made of paper. It can't understand you, and besides, maybe someone fancies you," Hermione said as they began walking out of the common room. Ron paled slightly and didn't say another word until they'd reached the great hall for breakfast.

* * * *

Hermione sat down for breakfast at the Gryffindor table beside Harry. Ginny and Ron sat across from them and Ron grumbled at the outrageous decorations. Hermione was amazed as she looked around at the festively prepared table, food and decorations. She looked up at the ceiling and watched as millions of sparkling and shimmering red and silver hearts of confetti fell all around. She was too busy doing all of this to notice one thing--Remus Lupin was seated at the High Table.

"They have really gone all out this year," Ginny said lightly as she picked up a plate of heart-shaped sausages.

"As long as they taste the same, I don't care," Ron mumbled, sticking a fork in two sausages and dropping them onto his plate.

Hermione smiled as Harry passed her a roll that was also in the shape of a heart.

"Would you like some," Harry began asking, tipping the pitcher of juice over slightly to see what was inside, "red juice?"

"Red juice?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know," he shrugged. He looked up the table; Neville was drinking out of his glass. "Neville, how is the drink?"

Neville glanced down at Harry. "It tastes fine to me. It's something fruity."

"Thanks," Harry replied before looking back at Hermione. "Would you like something fruity?" he asked her.

Hermione held her glass out and smiled. "Sure."

As Harry poured the juice into her glass, he glanced up at the High Table and was surprised to see Professor Lupin sitting beside Dumbledore. They were involved in a conversation.

"Hey," Harry said as he poured, "Professor Lupin is here."

Hermione's heart plummeted to her feet almost instantly. The glass of juice slipped from her hand and slapped the table, tilting over on its side and spilling everywhere.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Hermione said apologetically. "It slipped."

Ginny had already pulled her wand out and cleaned up the liquid quickly. "All gone," she said.

"Thanks Ginny," Hermione replied quietly.

Ron was looking up at the High Table and turned back to Harry. "What do you suppose he's here for?"

"Probably business for the Order," Harry answered. "We should try to talk to him after breakfast and see how he's been. I haven't seen him since Christmas."

"Yeah, let's do that," Ron agreed. "Hermione probably has loads of questions for him like she always does," he said playfully.

Hermione was sure her face was turning green. She felt nauseous. Her stomach was twisting and knotting and she couldn't bring herself to look up at the High Table. She was staring at her plate.

"You okay, Hermione?" Ginny asked.

"Uh...sure," she lied weakly.

Harry nudged her in the side with his elbow. She looked up to see him looking at her with concern. "You sure? You look a little sick," he said quietly.

She looked away and nodded her head. Somehow she always found it impossible to lie while looking directly into Harry's eyes. She took a few deep breaths and slowly lifted her head up. She moved her eyes up toward the High Table, and there he was. Her breath caught in her throat and everything around her turned into a blur of moving colors and faraway noises.

Remus Lupin sat beside Professor Dumbledore. He was leaning over slightly and the two men seemed to be caught up in a serious conversation--she could tell from the line between his brows. His hair was in need of a haircut but she had always thought it was sexy just as it began to fall over his ears and flip. He was definitely a man, but she could still see glimpses of the young man in his face. She watched as he reached for his glass; she watched the movement of his hands and remembered how she had loved them. The ache in her chest multiplied tenfold and she had to look away.

"Are you not going to eat?" Harry leaned over minutes later and asked her. She had been staring at the table without realizing time had continued to move on.

"What? Oh, I'm not hungry," she replied, holding out her hand and watching confetti land in her palm; it sparkled in the light. She closed her hand around it and sighed.

"Your preparations for NEWTs starts today, doesn't it?" Ginny asked Hermione.

She nodded her head. "We start this morning with Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"We should all pass with high marks," Harry said darkly. "We've had enough practice."

Hermione looked at him sympathetically. They had already experienced loads of real life trials and the biggest had yet to arrive.

"I'm going to stop by the library before the lesson," Hermione said, pushing away from the table and standing up.

"You aren't going to talk to Professor Lupin with us?" Ron asked, standing up also.

"No, that's okay. You can fill me in later," she said and hurried away before they could ask her any more questions or make her stay and talk to him.

* * * *

Hermione reached the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom before anyone else had arrived. She sat alone and closed her eyes, taking slow, deep breaths and trying to calm her nerves.

She hadn't realized seeing Remus again would affect her so greatly. It had been over a month since she'd taken her trip through time, and she had almost decided it was nothing more than a dream or hallucination she'd received in the library that night. Remus had never treated her any differently--couldn't it have all been only a dream?

Soon she heard voices entering the classroom from behind her and Harry and Ron sat beside her.

"How was your talk?" she asked, unable to control her curiosity.

"We didn't really get to talk," Ron said.

"Why not?" she wondered.

"He needed to get all his things together for speaking during a lesson today. He said we could talk sometime this morning," Ron said, pulling out a chocolate frog and eating it. Hermione wondered how he could still be hungry.

"What lesson is he speaking during?" she asked.

"This one," Harry said so Ron didn't have to talk with his mouth full of chocolate.

Hermione looked away, petrified. Her heart began to race immediately. What? He's going to be in here? He's going to be close to me? Relax, Hermione. Nothing has changed. Perhaps you never went back into the past. Perhaps it was just all a dream--a wonderful, unforgettable dream, and nothing more.

Ron swatted at the paper cupid that seemed to be following him everywhere. "Get away from me you stupid git!" he said in annoyance.

Under different circumstances, Hermione would have laughed but she could hardly breathe.

"Good morning everyone," a voice called from the back of the room. Many students turned around to see who was calling to them, but Hermione knew his voice very well. She could still hear it in her dreams sometimes.

She panicked when she heard his footsteps approaching and different students calling out to him in welcome. But when she heard his steps pause somewhere behind her, she felt absolutely terrified. She was sitting in her chair as rigid as a statue.

"Harry, stay a few minutes after class if you have time and we'll have a quick talk then," Remus said in his hoarse voice.
"Sure," Harry answered.

Hermione couldn't move; she felt paralyzed. Just breathe, Hermione. Nothing has changed. He is only Professor Lupin. Take a deep breath.

Just as Hermione closed her eyes to take the breath, she felt a hand on her shoulder. Her eyes jerked open wide.

"How have you been, Hermione?" Remus asked.

She couldn't control her body. In a span of a second, she slid her chair back and stood up quickly, her chair slapping against the table behind her.

"Are you okay?" Remus asked her quickly.

"Yes-no," she stammered, "I feel ill." She grabbed her things and rushed out of the classroom. Remus watched her go in complete confusion. He turned to look at Harry when Hermione was gone.

"Is she okay?" he asked.

Ron shrugged and Harry answered, "She wasn't feeling well at breakfast. Ron and I will check on her later."

"Okay. I hope she'll be okay," he said before walking to the front of the class and beginning his lecture.

* * * *

What the hell is wrong with me? Hermione asked herself as she stood in the middle of a deserted hallway outside of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

Her palms were sweaty and her head was racing. Didn't I decide it wasn't real? Professor Lupin was just asking me how I was. Why did I have to react like that?

She pulled her books to her chest and sighed again. Even if her adventure was nothing but a dream, she hadn't been prepared for being so close to Remus again. It all felt too real. Her feelings for Remus had not faded; she'd merely buried them...but not nearly deep enough.

She started walking. She couldn't very well go back into the classroom. Everyone would think she had lost her mind. She also knew she couldn't walk the halls of Hogwarts during lessons. Someone would eventually spot her and ask her what she was doing.

She came to a stop outside the lavatory on the second floor. She opened the door and walked inside, amazed to see the taps hadn't flooded the floor again. Moaning Myrtle immediately flew up to her.

"What are you doing in here? Shouldn't you be in a lesson?" Myrtle asked in her high pitched whiny voice.

"Bugger off, Myrtle. I'm not in the mood," Hermione said, sitting down on the floor.

"Well," she replied indignantly before flying off and disappearing down a toilet.

Hermione leaned against the wall and stretched her legs out. When she glanced down at her books she noticed a much smaller book, dark red in color, and she smiled. She pulled it out of the stack and touched the cover gently. It was the journal given to her by Remus. How could it have been only a dream--she was holding the proof in her hands... But it still didn't change the fact that Remus didn't know who she was to him.

She flipped the cover back and looked down at the words on the first page, and she couldn't stop herself--she sat there and read every entry.

January 1978

I feel trapped in that grey limbo between dreaming and wakefulness where you aren't sure if it's all in your imagination or all very real. There are aspects of this place that are wonderful and others that pull my heart painfully.

I am afraid to get too close to anyone here because I know this is merely a temporary stay. But there is a strange curiosity and need in me that compels me to learn more about the people around me. I want to learn why Sirius is always smiling as if he knows something I do not and he shall spring it on me at any given moment. I want to learn why James seems to be the leader most of the time and how he turns into someone so loveable when he is around Lily. I want to learn why everyone befriended Peter when I know the truth about him and how he continues to fool them for so long. I want to learn why Lily reminds me so much of Harry--perhaps it's her resolute strength and willingness to face the fire without fear. I want to learn why Remus smiles so easily here and what makes him laugh...it's such a lovely sound.

I fear I shall make memories here that will affect my life when I return. I only hope they are not painful and that I will never regret this strange new adventure...

* * * *

Hermione completed the rest of the day, much to her own amazement, without any further setbacks. Harry and Ron had said nothing of their visit with Remus and she had not asked. She'd spent an hour or more in the lavatory reading all of the entries in her journal, and she felt as if she'd fallen in love with Remus all over again, only to end up with a broken heart. What she wouldn't give to have those moments back again.

She walked into the great hall and found a seat beside Harry. The festive foods, decorations and shapes were still prevalent at dinner. Confetti still fell from the ceiling but there were now twinkling lights strung everywhere, blinking red and pink. The food on the table looked delicious and very fitting. There were tiny heart shaped cakes with pink and white icing, potatoes shaped like roses, red fruit drink again, and chocolate dipped strawberries. Her stomach rumbled audibly as she sat down.

"Hungry?" he asked playfully.

"I haven't eaten much today so now, of course, I'm starving."

Ron dropped in a seat across from Harry and Hermione and groaned loudly.

"What is it?" Hermione asked as she picked up a strawberry and took a big bite.

"That bloody cupid won't quit following me around. I grabbed it once, ripped it to shreds," Hermione gasped, "and do you know what it did?"

"What?"

"It pieced itself back together and then I swear to Merlin it smiled at me...right before it shot an arrow at my face!" Ron said as he stabbed a piece of chicken with his fork.

Hermione and Harry looked at each other and snickered. The little paper cupid hovered over Ron's shoulder.

"It is Valentine's, Ron," Harry said. "There must be someone who wants you to be her valentine."

Ron tried to ignore Harry's smile. "I haven't got time for valentines and all that nonsense."

"You should always make time for all that nonsense, Ron," Hermione said quietly, letting the sadness enter her voice slightly. "It could all be taken away at a moment's notice."

"You're one to lecture me," he said, picking up a nearby strawberry, "you've spent more time in the bloody library than you have with anyone. You're too busy reading to worry about nonsense."

Hermione said nothing. That had always been the truth until Remus, and for once she had made time for love.

Thinking of Remus again compelled her to write something down in her journal. She pulled it out and placed it against the table as she pulled out her quill.

Ron narrowed his eyes at her. "Are you ever going to tell us where you got that?"

Hermione continued to write and Harry said, "She told us it was a gift."

"Yeah, but from who?" he asked through a mouthful of chicken.

"My lover," Hermione said nonchalantly, continuing to write and not looking up at Ron.

He blanched and then choked, coughing until his throat cleared. Harry snickered and shook his head. He knew Hermione was only joking to get at Ron, who always became terribly uncomfortable when feelings were discussed.

* * * *

Across the room, up at the High Table, a different conversation was unfolding.

"And what of Kinglsey?" Remus asked, turning his glass around in his hand.

"He and Tonks are sharing responsibility. They should be prepared to report their findings in two day's time," Dumbledore replied quietly.

Remus nodded and lifted his glass to his lips. The liquid was sweet and cold on his tongue. Before he could pull the glass away, Dumbledore spoke again.

"That event you've been waiting for--it has come and gone."

Remus' heart slapped against his ribcage and he almost dropped his glass, but he maintained control over his emotions. He looked at Dumbledore in question, but he knew immediately what the wise wizard was speaking of. In those few words, Dumbledore had told him that he knew about Hermione's journey into the past, he knew what had happened while she was there and she had evidently found the book recently. But how could he have known about all of those things? Remus didn't question him. He looked across the great hall until his eyes were gazing at one particular young woman sitting at the Gryffindor table. She was holding a small red book up and he could see her eyes just over the top of it.

* * * *

Hermione finished writing down her thoughts and held the journal up close to her face. She blew on the wet ink to try and dry it before she closed the book. While holding up the book, she felt the sudden uncontrollable urge to look up and across the room. When she glanced over the top of the journal, she locked eyes with Remus Lupin. A zing of electricity shot up her spine instantaneously.

She held his gaze for a few long seconds, but she had to look away for fear that her heart might explode inside her chest. When she looked down to close the book, she realized her hands were shaking.

That was odd.

"I'll be in there about fifteen minutes after dinner. I need to return this book to the library," Ginny said to Neville.

Hermione shook the fogginess from her mind. She folded her hands in her lap so that Harry would not see the way she trembled.

"I can return it for you if you like," Hermione spoke up.

"Oh, that's okay. I'm not going to make you do that," Ginny replied, swatting at Ron's cupid.

"I have to return the book I checked out on Astronomy anyway. I don't mind."

"Well, if you're sure it's okay," Ginny said as she reached for the book and passed it across the table to Hermione.

After dinner, Hermione gathered her books and started for the library.

"Do you want Ron and I to wait for you?" Harry asked.

"No, that's okay. It shouldn't take long. I'll be right behind you," Hermione called to him over her shoulder.

When she arrived at the library, she pushed open the doors and walked up to the front desk. Madam Pince was sitting there prudishly, glaring at a group of whispering students nearby.

"I need to return these two books," Hermione said, glancing down at a book that was sitting further down the desk from her.

"Hand them here," Madam Pince said. Hermione passed her the two books.

While she waited for the librarian to get the books checked in she walked a few steps away to see what book was on the desk. It was a copy of Hogwarts, A History. Every time she saw a copy of a book with that particular title, she would always open it up and hope. Old habits were hard to break. She lifted the front cover and flipped through the pages. Of course, nothing happened, but it didn't hurt to try.

"Are you planning on checking out that book?" the librarian asked, watching Hermione.

"Oh...no. I was just looking," Hermione said. And hoping.

"Very well. One book returned under Hermione Granger. One book returned under Ginny Weasley. I am finished with you."

"Thanks," Hermione said, trying to force a smile as she walked away. Outside the library, the hall was practically empty. Hermione decided to take a different route back to her common room. She wanted to be as alone as possible and think. She was always thinking these days, longing for time away from everyone else...well, not everyone.

She would have probably given a few years off her life to be with Remus again as it was before. She sighed as she remembered lying in his bed, his arms around her. How perfect life had felt then. She missed him...more than she liked to admit on most days.

She walked up a flight of stairs and ducked beneath a flying paper cupid. The hallway flickered in torch light and the only sounds she heard were from the constant clicking of her shoes against the stones.

Up ahead the hallway ended and turned either right or left. She wondered as she walked which way she should go because she hadn't walked this path in quite some time. She shrugged and turned to the left. Once she took the hallway to the left she felt as if she'd run straight into a wall.

"Oof. Remus?" Hermione said, running smack into someone, stumbling over backwards and looking up. She didn't even realize the fact that she hadn't called him Professor, a tiny detail Remus had not missed. The briefcase in his arms tumbled to the ground as a cloud of papers floated through the air and spread all over the floor. "Oh, I'm sorry." She scrambled to her feet and began helping him pick up his things; she looked up, forcing herself not to treat him any differently, not to look at him any differently--after all, he didn't know her.

She took in every detail of his face. Time had changed him, but he was still the very same man she had fallen in love with. His hair was lined with grey but his eyes were still as blue--small lines had formed around his eyes and mouth--how she longed to touch his face. She looked away.

"Hermione," he said, suddenly sensing something different in her eyes. The smell of fear was potent all around. What could she be afraid of? Surely she wasn't afraid of him. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice only slightly betraying his feelings. Being this close to Hermione, and very alone while something had changed in her eyes, was far from what he wanted.

"Yes, I'm fine," she said feebly. She continued picking up his things and passing papers to him that he loaded into his briefcase. She lifted the last stack of parchment from the ground. A tiny sheet of yellowed parchment slipped out; it floated to the floor. Hermione watched it fall in slow motion. She recognized the broken wax seal on the back and she felt her whole body sway dangerously at the realization. It was a seal with a crescent moon and the letter J...the seal she had used to close Remus' goodbye letter--in 1978. What was he still doing with it? That could only mean...

"I'll get that," Remus said swiftly. In one quick movement, he grabbed the letter from the floor and stuffed it into his faded and threadbare robes.

Hermione stuttered, "Is that my--how did you--why did you--" She wasn't even thinking of the fact that by saying those words he would put the pieces together and realize the truth about what happened.

"Hermione, listen," Remus began, but he stopped. What did he want to say? His thoughts tumbled around in his mind. Damn it, get a hold of yourself Moony, he scolded himself. You're a grown man.

Hermione seemed to realize all at once that Remus already knew she had been the one to write that letter to him, that she had been the one from his past. "You have the letter I wrote to you. I mean to say, you knew it was me. And you kept it," she said, her voice trembling. Her steady resolve was slowly splintering, threatening to break at any given moment.

"Yes," he said hoarsely, unable to look away from her gaze.

"Then that means..." she hesitated. Her heart was beating in her chest hard and painfully; she could feel the beat of it pulsing inside her head. "You've known all along about me..."

"Yes."

"But you never acted--you never said anything," Hermione said weakly. She cursed the tears that were forming in her eyes.

"You were a child, Hermione. You still are," Remus replied sadly, his face looking much older than his years.

"I'm not a child!" she said angrily as the tears began to fall from her wet lashes.

"You must understand...damn it," he swore under his breath. How could he expect her to understand when he didn't understand anything?

"But we--we were in love," she whispered, her cheeks flushing red.

Remus caught her eye and almost smiled in remembrance. "Hermione," he swallowed, "for you it just happened, but for me..." he raked his fingers through his hair, "...for me it was twenty years ago."

"So, does that mean..." she didn't want to say it, "...that you've forgotten me?"
"Not forgotten," he said, laughing dryly, no humor behind it at all. "I had to move on. I spent too many years wondering where you'd gone only to have my questions answered when I met you again...as a thirteen-year-old girl...you were best friends with Lily and James' only child...Hermione Jane...and then it all made sense to me. All the questions Jane," he said her name with a touch of bitterness, "asked me about charming books and how I told her about how experienced Sirius was at it...and the strange way she--you--disappeared...it all fell into place. You found the book...only I didn't know when you would find it...only that you would..." he stopped. Hermione watched him with tears steadily rolling down her cheeks. He wanted to reach out and wipe them away, and in that moment he forgot all sense of reason. "Hermione," he said gently, opening his arms up as a gesture of compassion.

Hermione rushed at him, threw her arms around his neck and buried her face against his robes. "Please Remus, please," she whispered desperately near to his ear, not quite certain what exactly she was asking for--only knowing she needed him. He slid his arms around her waist and held her tightly, feeling his shame multiplying by the second. He shouldn't be doing this.

She pulled away from him and stared into his eyes. She ran her fingers down his cheek lightly, smiling through her tears and he trembled. He couldn't believe he was actually trembling. But it had been so long since he had shared any kind of profound intimacy with anyone, and eventually a man becomes weak--and he was breaking down once again for Hermione Granger.

It had been twenty years--twenty years of death, of sorrow, of loneliness--and still not long enough to forget the sweetness of her smell, the intoxicating pull of her kiss. Her breath upon his cheek was maddening.

"We can...make this work somehow," she whispered, looking into his eyes and searching for some ounce of hope.

Remus looked at her. She was so close to him--much too close. He could smell the scent of her, so familiar and distinct. But that wasn't the only thing he smelled in the air around them; there was also hope, desperation...and desire.

"Please Remus," she whispered, her voice breaking.

She sounded so sincere and innocent but being this close to her again was arousing thoughts in his mind that were anything but innocent. He couldn't do this. He was her professor; she was his student.

Not anymore, he argued with his inner voices.

The look in her eyes pulled at his heart painfully. How could he push her away? There was a silent anguish just beneath her words, saying that she was so close to plunging headfirst into the darkness--how could he be the one to push her when she was standing on the edge? But hadn't he spent the last twenty years trying to pick up all of the broken pieces she had left behind?

That isn't fair, Moony, and you know it. It wasn't her fault. Look at her. Look how she suffers. You've seen that look before--in the mirror almost every day of your life.

"Hermione," he began, hating the sound of his own voice; he sounded so weak and broken. She had fallen in love with him when he was still strong and alive--how could she ever love the mere shadow of a man that he had become?

But Hermione didn't wait for him to say any more. She pressed her lips to his, forcing his mouth open with her tongue. She needed to feel his warmth; she just needed him. He opened his mouth to hers, relinquishing all sense of morality in what kissing her again meant and knowing she was crashing through every last stone he'd built around his heart...it was all tumbling, tumbling down. And Remus could not deny the heat that exploded all around them--her warm breath against his mouth, the heat of her skin against his hands, the heat burning inside his body, pulsing with his beating heart. Her kiss ignited him like nothing else--oh, God, it was like sailing home after spending years wandering lost at sea, like finding shelter at long last after drowning in the rains that never cease.

"Oh, Hermione," he whispered in between their kisses, forgetting the improperness of his behavior and losing himself.

Her tongue touched his with an urgency he had almost forgotten existed, though he quickly remembered and responded equally. She moaned against him, pushing him to the outermost borders of decency. He clutched her body to his; she ran her fingers through his hair, pulling his face even closer to hers as if trying to meld their two bodies into one.

She felt just as he remembered; the feel of her body against his brought back memories in flashes of color--and for a moment he felt as if no time had passed, as if he were still seventeen, but he wasn't. He definitely wasn't seventeen. Remus came to his senses suddenly and pushed Hermione away.

"No," he said a bit too forcefully, not sure if he were saying it to her or to himself. "I can't do this."

"But why," Hermione asked, clutching her arms around herself as if she were suddenly chilled. She was still reeling from their kiss.

"We just can't," he said, raking his fingers through his hair again and turning his back to her. He was trying desperately to regain control of his senses, but was finding it rather difficult since the finer points of rational thought had deserted him after their kiss. "Don't you understand? You were my student--"

"Key word being were, Remus. I'm not your student anymore."

"It doesn't matter," he argued, fighting his own inner demons. "This wouldn't work..." I'm too old for you. You deserve better. I'm a bloody werewolf, he thought sadly.

"So, you won't even try?" she asked, ashamed at the tremor in her voice.

"It's been too long," Remus lied, knowing it hadn't been long enough to forget her--even now his heart was aching.

"I see," she whispered barely audible, looking away from him. Suddenly, her entire demeanor changed. She wiped at her wet cheeks, took a deep breath, and held her head up high. "If that's how you feel, then I can't possibly change that. I'm sorry for this," she motioned to the space in between them with her hands, "it was highly inappropriate. Goodnight, Professor," she said, a sliver of ice in her voice.

Remus watched her go--oh, how he longed to chase after her, but he didn't; he couldn't.

That's my girl, he thought, sighing miserably. Always strong and resilient, never breaking...so unlike me.

Hermione rounded the corner and took off into a dead run. She had no idea where she was going; she only knew she had to get away--far, far away from Remus. Once she was certain she had put enough space between them, she stopped and nearly collapsed into the wall.

She pressed her face against the cold stones, her forehead pushing into it roughly. And then she finally began to cry, quietly at first--the sobs crept up slowly, dying in her throat for she would not allow anyone to hear. She fought the sadness valiantly, but she would not win this battle--this sorrow ran too deeply, cut with a harsh brutality, and was unrelenting.

With her forehead pressed against the stones, her palms placed against the wall, holding up her trembling body, she squeezed her eyes shut as tightly as possible and cursed the tears that slipped through, staining her cheeks with grief.

She thought of everything that she had left behind to crumble to its ruin. She cried for Sirius--he had lost two of his best friends, realized the betrayal of Peter and spent thirteen years wasting away in Azkaban, only to die two years later trying to save them all. She cried for James and Lily, who never saw Harry grow into the wonderful man he had most certainly become, for never seeing how their love would grow in time, for never knowing the truth. She cried for Peter. How could you Peter? How? And finally she cried for Remus--he was the only one who remained that was faithful and true; he had suffered more than them all because everyone knows that the last man standing has seen everyone else fall. And she cried for loving Remus--for falling so desperately in love with a man when she knew it had been wrong--but how could it be wrong? He had held her so tightly, loved her so strongly, kissed her so sweetly...and now he was walking away.

"No, Remus," she whispered through her sobs. She slid down the wall slowly and came to rest on her knees. With her head in her hands she cried until she was most certain there were no more tears left to shed.

"If tomorrow never comes

I would want just one wish

To kiss your quiet mouth

Trace the steps of my fingertips

And it's you

The light changes when you're in the room

Oh it's you

Oh it's you."--Michelle Branch