Hermione knew that Harry had been waiting to tell Draco the truth because their two revelations went hand-in-hand; Harry would never deliberately force her to reveal a facet of her Pure Adulthood. No matter how much she'd reassured him that her choices were her own, she knew that he still felt guilty that he and Draco had been something of a catalyst back in February for the mess that was her and Severus.
Draco was clearly aware that he'd missed an exchange between them, but his expression remained calm, his body relaxed; he really did try to take lessons learnt to heart.
She smiled at him. "Let's go stand over here."
Clearly confused, Draco nevertheless obeyed. A smile lurked around the edges of Harry's mouth as he moved to stand next to Draco, and she backed away so that there was plenty of room for her to transform in a wide section of the training half of the room.
"You're half right," she admitted to Draco. "I don't need as much sleep because of one of the abilities that came with being a Pure Adult."
"But it's a different ability than Harry possesses?" the Slytherin queried.
She and Harry exchanged looks.
"We have different manifestations of the same ability, I guess you could say," she clarified. "Harry's not said anything about himself because he knew you'd guess about me."
Harry rolled his eyes. "So as always, blame her for my decisions, not me."
Draco snorted. "I've seen a trend in that direction, yes. I'll try not to be cross with anyone, shall I?"
"That would be the ideal outcome," Hermione agreed, smiling at their antics. "You and Remus both guessed that I'd become an Animagus." Startled, Draco nodded. "And you both wondered why I never revealed myself to you." Another nod. "This would be why."
Draco positively gaped at her transformed self, his gaze affixed to the golden horn that now came out of her forehead. Experimentally, she moved her head and watched as Draco followed the horn without seeming to be aware of what he was doing. She did this for several passes before Harry, unable to stop chuckling slightly, admonished her to stop.
She sent them a toothy grin, and Draco finally seemed to realize what he'd been doing. His look of annoyance wasn't very effective given that it was still tempered with a great deal of awe.
"In the interest of thoroughness, I'd just like to confirm that there's a single horn coming out of Hermione's very horse-like head." His voice was slightly faint.
"A golden horn," Harry contributed.
A spiralled golden horn. Whispering, she added, And I'm not really a horse, in case you'd not got there on your own.
Draco was nodding slowly, his voice lacking adequate scorn when he said, "I'd come to that conclusion, thanks. I had no idea it was possible."
For Pure Adults it is, she answered. We can Mask ourselves as ordinary animals.
This seemed to recall Draco to the other half of the equation, and he turned to look at Harry.
"And just what are you?"
Smiling at the mixture of aggression and curiosity, Harry took a step back from Draco, and a moment later, he was fluttering in the air.
The Slytherin looked completely flabbergasted.
"You're a phoenix."
I am, Harry confirmed.
"You're a phoenix, and Hermione's a unicorn."
Well spotted, they agreed in tandem.
Draco was looking a little faint, so Hermione transformed back into human form even as she was conjuring a chair, which Draco sank into without seeming to notice that it hadn't been there a second ago. Harry re-transformed as well, hurrying over to perch on the arm of Draco's chair.
"You all right?" he asked, the concern evident in his voice.
"Mm hmm," Draco mumbled.
The two Gryffindors exchanged glances. Harry summoned Winky and asked for tea. The house-elf took one look at Draco and nodded emphatically before disappearing with a pop.
"I'm sorry," Hermione said, at a bit of a loss. "I really didn't think it was that big a deal, or I'd not have sprung it on you like that."
Draco rallied slightly. "I'm fine. I thought I'd grasped the extent of your powers; I knew you were both more powerful than I, and I guess I just didn't think it went beyond that."
"But this is an extension of that," Hermione said as reassuringly as she could. "You have the power to turn into an animal; we have the power to turn into magical animals. It's only a question of degree."
She could see the Slytherin processing this, and it seemed to have a positive impact. Winky arrived with the tea, and Harry gratefully served it to Draco.
The pure-blood heir would have been well-versed from a young age in all things magical, Hermione knew, but she had never really considered how much more of an impact being able to turn into a magical Animagus form would have for him rather than for her and Harry. For the two of them, the "no magical animal" rule was a recent and arbitrary one, not a fact that they had grown up knowing was incontrovertible.
"That's a good point," Draco declared finally. "I should have expected the extraordinary from the two of you. I take it unicorns don't sleep?"
Harry heaved a sigh of relief at this casually accepting return to the topic, and Hermione explained, "They don't sleep as humans do, no. They sleep less than I do, but I am able to sleep less than regular humans."
Draco turned to Harry. "But phoenixes sleep, I take it?"
He nodded. "They do."
"And they like fire," Draco added.
Hermione tried not to react to that, but Draco noticed. He rolled his eyes as he clarified. "I know, of course they like fire. But what I mean is that ever since the beginning of February, he's wanted a fire lit all the time, and he can sit in front of it for ages while I'm roasting."
She nodded. "He's a bit more sensitive to the cold than he used to be, but that's nothing a Warming Charm can't fix when necessary. And he'd survive happily in a desert a lot longer than we would."
"What else?" Draco demanded imperiously.
Harry smiled at his enthusiasm. "I'm not as strong as Fawkes, but I can carry one, maybe two humans if they hold onto my tail feathers."
Hermione swallowed heavily as she remembered that experimentation, which she had done her best to block from her mind forever. She had vowed then and there that she would never, ever do it again. Fawkes had been the one to guess that Harry could carry two, as they hadn't had another human whom they could test with at the time. She'd have to quash the idea if either Harry or Draco brought it up now.
The Gryffindor boy continued to list abilities. "I can't heal anyone with my tears, the same with 'Mione's blood, but both of us seem to heal more quickly than we used to. I like spicy foods." Draco's eyes lit up as he finally understood the obsession with hot sauce and spices. "When I concentrate on it, I can sort of soothe people who are in distress, just like Fawkes does when he sings; I'm still learning how to do that one. And, uh, that's about what I can think of at the moment. 'Mione?"
She nodded. His life expectancy would likely be extended as hers was, but they had no specifics, and she doubted that it was knowledge that Draco needed to be burdened with right now.
"Thank you," Draco said very deliberately, looking at her squarely, "for letting me know."
She smiled. "You're very welcome. Now you'll understand what's happened if you find feathers in the bedroom."
Draco smirked while Harry protested indignantly, "I do not moult!"
They headed up to breakfast in a collectively good mood, and the rest of the day passed agreeably. Tonks was nearly as anxious as they were for her first set of O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s as a professor, so she was planning an extensive series of revision that was very beneficial for the students.
After lunch, they managed a quick visit to Hagrid. With O.W.L.s coming for his class, he was also frazzled; having done it for several years now didn't seem to help.
She, Harry, and Draco spent the rest of the afternoon in their own revision, Hermione, as always, having more courses to cover than anyone else. Draco was still a good influence here, as his being determined to sit down with Potions meant that Harry did it, too, and with less complaining than would have occurred if it had been she who obliged him to do it. Of course, she had no doubt that he would be rewarded for his good behaviour later, but that was their business. Whatever worked.
By the time dinner arrived, it was chaotically loud; the match that would decide who played in the finals was tomorrow, and Quidditch was on everyone's minds. She supposed she should be grateful that Harry and Draco hadn't regaled her with Quidditch stories all afternoon, but five minutes in the Great Hall at dinner time made her want to run off as quickly as she could and not come back.
It happened every year, and it was one event that she would not miss when she left the school at the end of the year. She'd supported her House team as a matter of course, but she had mostly been there for Harry, and now that he wasn't playing and she was in the middle of fighting a war, curing lycanthropy, and revising for N.E.W.T.s, the game didn't fit into the top ten calls upon her time—hell, it probably didn't fit into the top thirty.
Knowing that no one was interested in her opinion on the matter, she kept her mouth shut. They thought Quidditch was important, and she didn't need to get into an argument. She sighed.
"You doing all right over there?" Harry asked with some amusement.
"Positively delighted by the charged atmosphere," she answered dryly.
Harry laughed. "I'll bet."
"I'm going to make a break for it," she said conversationally.
"Duly noted. I'm sure Draco and I can keep an eye on the masses."
Pleased that Harry wasn't being difficult, just indecently amused, she had a very brief dinner and then escaped back to the blissful quiet of her quarters. No, she wouldn't miss that aspect of Hogwarts one bit.
The Weresbane was ready shortly before noon on Saturday. She'd buried herself in her lab all morning, refusing to go out, even as Head Girl, for the match. The potion had to be monitored at this stage, and she knew where her priorities lay. Since everyone knew she didn't really care about the sport, what was the use in her going?
Harry's assertion that it would be good for her moved her not at all, and he finally seemed to be convinced that she hadn't simply invented her need to stay with the potion to get out of seeing the match. No one would care that there was one fewer viewer, and she thought Draco more than made up her place; how many matches had the Slytherin Ice Prince as an honorary Gryffindor?
It was blissfully quiet when she was in her lab. No one was trying to visit or help or bother her, and she could work on the potion in peace. Once it was complete, she bottled it, Masked herself, and made her way to the gates so that she could Apparate without stepping on any toes. Well, no more toes than usual, anyway, as there would no doubt still be those who thought she shouldn't travel to her safe house like this on her own. But their disapproval hadn't stopped her yet, and was unlikely to start any time soon.
UnMasking, she headed downstairs and found the eighteen werewolves who would be transforming that evening ready and waiting. She greeted all of them cheerfully and set about administering the potion.
There was one aspect of today that she had been dreading all week, but she'd vowed to deal with it once she'd provided the potion to the werewolves in need. Once they were all seated and ensuring that no one experienced any adverse effects, then she would have plenty of time to deal with one irate ex-werewolf who felt that she had attacked his mate.
Remus appeared while she was partly through, but he stood to the side and waited for her to finish. This was either a deliberate insult, as he usually offered to help, or he thought that it would be safer if they didn't try to interact when there were sensitive potions involved. She'd hoped that nearly two weeks' hindsight would have improved the man's outlook on the event, but seeing his behaviour now, she wasn't convinced.
She announced her intention to monitor the werewolves closely for the first half hour, and Remus disappeared back upstairs while she made sure that all the information in her Weresbane journal was perfectly accurate and then updated it with current stats.
At the end of the half hour, Remus reappeared with tea, which she hoped was a gesture of good will rather than an excuse, and she informed the werewolves that she and Remus needed to have a private discussion but she'd only be a name call away if any of them suffered any side effects. Sternly reminding them that the slightest change could be important and that she wouldn't hesitate to feed the antidote to anyone who lied to her, she was fairly certain from their expressions that she'd got her point across just as she had managed to do each time in the past. She didn't want to take anything for granted.
These eighteen had to stay downstairs as per her rules, but since this was the new moon, they wouldn't be locked up until right before moonrise. It was important that they be comfortable enough to achieve their transformation, so she preferred that they did what made them happiest, whether that was congregating in a large group, forming a small study group, taking a nap, or anything else that struck their fancy and wouldn't inhibit their chances of transforming.
She and Remus withdrew a short way so that she could still see all the werewolves but she wasn't so close that she'd be too easily distracted by their chatter. She put up privacy charms that blocked sound so that her conversation could not be overheard.
Taking the teacup, she made an attempt to break the ice: "Should I be checking to see if it's been tampered with?"
Some of the tightness left his face. He'd been a Marauder, after all. He shook his head.
"It's just tea."
Nodding, she took a sip, not sure if he'd noticed that she'd checked anyway, but she always checked, even with food brought by Harry or the house-elves, so it wasn't a sign of mistrust.
She conjured chairs, figuring they'd be less likely to get in one another's faces if they were seated, and gestured him into one.
"I assume you have an opinion that you'd like to share with me." He was looking at her strangely, so she elaborated. "I've had a great many people share their opinions of what I did in order to rescue Severus. I've not heard you except when I wasn't in a position to reply or when it was difficult to differentiate voices, so I give you the floor now."
He nodded, face shadowed. "I did not intend to exacerbate the problem in the Infirmary. I wasn't thinking clearly."
"Your arrival had very little to do with my collapse, if that's what's worrying you," she responded. "I had greatly overtaxed myself, as you no doubt guessed, and wouldn't have lasted much longer whether or not your voice recalled me to the physical world."
"You hurt my mate." There was pain in his voice. "I feel as though I must act, but I don't know what to do."
"I think hurt is a strong word," she answered carefully. "I put her in an uncomfortable position, certainly, but I let her make a choice, and I ensured that no harm could come to her as a result of it."
"You Stunned her," Remus protested.
"As I've done countless times in training and even in class," Hermione pointed out mildly. "I informed her of exactly what I was doing and minimized any risks; you were the only one who could get to her, and if you didn't arrive within a half hour, she would have woken on her own. I even told her where her wand was."
"If she cooperated voluntarily, why did you have to Stun her at all?"
"I said I gave her a choice," Hermione corrected. "Since she may have felt that she was picking the lesser of two evils, I had to take precautions." She frowned slightly. "Didn't Tonks mention any of this?"
She knew the Auror hadn't been precisely happy, but she'd thought the woman had understood.
Remus wouldn't meet her eyes, but admitted after a moment, "She was rather annoyed that I'd burst into the hospital wing, and she really wasn't pleased that I went to see you once you were awake again."
"She was there, too," Hermione objected.
Remus shook his head before amending, "Well, yes, but she came because she knew I wasn't at my most rational. She ended up reassuring Ron that despite what everyone else said, what had happened was in no way his fault, so she didn't notice when you disappeared until it was too late."
"I suspect," Hermione answered as circumspectly as she could, "that Tonks has worked out what she would have done had it been you who were captured by Voldemort."
"Are you certain that Severus would have done the same had it been you?" Remus asked pointedly.
She rose very slowly from her chair, spine stiff, mug clenched in a white-knuckled grasp.
"No," she answered clearly and icily. "Unlike you and Tonks, who have been blessed with unity and happiness, Severus and I are not in a relationship. In fact, recent events suggest that his feelings are ones of dislike rather than indifference. Happy as that may make you, Remus John Lupin, it does not alter my feelings for him or in any way impact the sequence of events that led to my rescuing him."
"Hermione," he began, tone much altered.
"We've finished discussing this," she said flatly.
"I—" he tried again.
"I can't leave," she interrupted authoritatively, "because I have more than a dozen people who are depending on me right now. Don't make me ask you to go."
His mouth snapped shut abruptly, and she seized the opportunity to cancel her charms and turn back to check on the werewolves. She was reasonably certain that Remus wouldn't make a scene in front of them.
For her part, she was getting very tired of people assuming she didn't know who Severus was. She knew exactly what sort of a man he could be, better than they did, some of them. And really, often times Severus made her feel bad enough on his own without anyone needing to exacerbate the problem by pointing it out time and time again.
There were still no untoward symptoms being exhibited by any of the werewolves who were taking her potion today; each and every time another person reacted well to it, she was delighted. Eventually, she was bound to get someone who was allergic to one of the ingredients that went into the brew, but so far, her luck was holding—or the changed physiology of the werewolf was working in their favour for once, which would be a slightly more scientific take on it.
She continued to take down the vital information of all today's subjects; since there were nearly twenty of them, it took some time. If it also made it difficult for Remus to follow and speak to her privately, that was a happy coincidence.
Harry, Draco, and Fawkes all took care to announce to her when the match ended three hours after it had started when Ginny caught the Snitch. This meant that Gryffindor won the match one hundred and seventy to twenty; they would go into the final with four hundred points, and they would be playing against Hufflepuff, who only had two hundred and twenty points.
Hermione had been at the safe house for over an hour and a half at that point and was just relieved that she hadn't had to sit out on the pitch and wait through it; fortunately, it hadn't occurred to anyone to demand her attendance as soon as the potion was done, so she had been able to spend her time much more profitably here.
Do you actually take an interest in Quidditch? she asked Fawkes curiously.
He sent her a bird-like shrug. Albus enjoys how much the children enjoy it, and I find it best to enjoy what he enjoys whenever possible.
She couldn't recall Fawkes ever attending a match in the past, but given the nature of the bond between a wizard and a familiar, she imagined he still saw much of the sport as well as hearing all about it on numerous occasions. Her imagination failed at the thought of Fawkes and tenpin bowling, so probably Quidditch was a wise choice.
It was almost four before Harry, Draco, and Tonks arrived; there had been a late lunch at Hogwarts after the match, and it had been deemed prudent for them to attend. Minerva was staying on at the school until the evening; although she would have liked to be at the safe house through all the preparation, she had decided it was her duty to monitor the Gryffindors in order to ensure that the celebration didn't get out of hand. Bill had a big job that he couldn't easily get out of for Gringotts, and she had assured him that they would be fine on their own.
To the surprise of no one, Molly had kicked up such a fuss at the notion of Ron visiting again that despite the fact that he was one of the most stubborn people Hermione knew, he would not be attending this evening. It was almost a month to the day since he had been attacked, and the Weasley matriarch was a formidable woman.
Fortunately for continuing family relations, it didn't hurt that in this particular case, coming to assist would have meant missing out on some "basking in glory" time. Ron had only let in two goals, which demonstrated extraordinary keeping skills for a three-hour match, as Harry had pointed out to her twice. Ron was feeling pretty good and ready to enjoy the adoration of his fans.
There were now nine more Animagi who could assist those transforming tonight, so while Ron could still have helped, they weren't at a horrid disadvantage without him. To be fair to Molly, Hermione wasn't actually sure how hard the woman had had to push to get him to stay behind; between Quidditch and the fact that the last time he had been here, he'd been cut up and nearly dragged to Voldemort, Ron probably felt that there were other activities that would better occupy him at this time.
Hermione hoped that he was having fun and behaving. Eventually, if Ron wished, she would attempt to persuade his mother that he should be allowed to return. After all, those at the safe house had now all been questioned under Veritaserum as to their allegiances; all of the students and staff at Hogwarts had not. Then again, if Molly took that the wrong way, it would probably result in Ron getting pulled out of Hogwarts to be home-schooled rather than allowed to visit the safe house, so perhaps Hermione had better just let events unfold on their own.
They might have been missing some of the usual instructors, but Hermione found that the nine ex-werewolves from the first trial had stepped into the breach admirably. With so many new and enthusiastic teachers, it was very easy for them to split into small groups with someone who knew exactly what they were talking about. If they didn't get the technical details of an Animagus transformation as they would have done with Minerva, they got a great deal of incident-specific information. Technical questions could wait.
Once the others did arrive, they immediately broke off into groups to assist, Harry and Draco moving as a unit since Harry had never been a werewolf or transformed into a wolf Animagus, nor did he have the technical training that Minerva did. He was a beacon for the light, however, and hugely enthusiastic, so he was handy to have around.
Tonks immediately sought out Remus, making another good unit to wander around and assist where they could, and this left Hermione alone. She briefly wished that Severus could have been at her side but ruthlessly quashed the thought; there was no point in hoping for what wouldn't come. Severus would not volunteer to spend time with her, not even for the Weresbane, and that was all there was to it. She was a unit of one, and she was simply going to have to learn to like it.
It didn't take long for most of the new arrivals to notice that she and Remus were not getting along. Given that she avoided him as much as possible and maybe sort of glared when she couldn't avoid him, she wasn't really surprised.
When verbal communication got them nowhere, Harry and Draco tried MindSpeech, but she still told them to bugger off. She had enough to worry about with the transformation of eighteen werewolves into wolf Animagi without hashing out a completely unrelated argument. Besides, she was next to certain that Harry agreed with Remus about Severus, and she didn't want them to join forces.
Dinner was still a relatively pleasant affair; the moon, invisible though it was, didn't rise until five thirteen in the morning on Sunday. The actual new moon occurred shortly before noon at eleven forty one. It was therefore still early for the worst of the nerves to have set in, so the atmosphere wasn't nearly as horribly charged as it would grow to be eventually. There were several cracks about vegetables and martyrs, but it was all in good fun, and she assured them with a roll of her eyes that they would be able to eat meat again, just not for the next twenty-four hours.
The evening was full of last-minute instructions and coaching. The nine wolf Animagi from the first trial were constantly changing into their wolf forms so that everyone could see the transformation firsthand and be reminded of the subtle physical differences between a wolf and a werewolf. Given that the nine of them had only been wolves for a couple of weeks, she suspected that they didn't find showing off much of a hardship.
By ten in the evening, Harry and Draco had taken to buffering her from Remus, who kept attempting to talk to her. They had no idea what was going on, but in spite of the fact that she had refused to answer their questions, Harry had evidently decided to side with her against his de facto godfather. She suspected this was an attempt to make up for not trusting her judgement previously, and she was too grateful not to accept.
They were sitting at the kitchen table while she was at the counter boiling water for tea when Tonks approached and asked cheerfully, "How would you like to wander over to the sitting room on the first floor?"
Hermione snorted and Tonks smiled, dropping her bad pretence immediately.
"He didn't think you'd come if you knew he was there."
"And you disagree?" Hermione asked.
The other woman shook her head. "I think the chances of his getting cursed are diminished if you know the truth, and I'm relatively certain he doesn't deserve to be cursed. This is your safe house; of course you know who's in which room."
Hermione smiled. This was very true. Remus had made an effort, though, so she waved the boys back when they rose as if to come with her. She fell into step with Tonks, and they made their way up the stairs.
"What did he do," Tonks asked curiously, "to upset you so?"
Hermione's lips thinned at the memory. "He reminded me that Severus would not have come to rescue me if our situations had been reversed and it was I who were being tortured."
The Auror was silent for a moment. "I take it back. He deserves to be cursed. Please, be my guest."
Hermione's lips tipped up. "I appreciate the sentiment, Tonks, but I'm doing my best not to curse anyone today. Besides, if I started cursing everyone who insulted Severus, it would become a full-time job."
Tonks laughed softly, observing, "You know exactly what you're doing."
"I may not always like the situation, but I'm not as blind as everyone seems to think."
"Being underestimated can have its advantages," Tonks pointed out.
Given Tonks was known far and wide for being accident prone but was also a top-notch Auror, Hermione could see how that could be the case.
"It gets tiresome sometimes, though," the Gryffindor said with a sigh.
"I'm sure it does," Tonks agreed. "Like I said, if you want to take it out on Remus, you have my approval."
Hermione smirked. "Won't that put a crimp in your love life?"
The Auror shrugged pragmatically. "I can handle a couple more nights alone for a noble purpose."
"I appreciate that," Hermione said with genuine feeling. "I've not apologized to him for what I did, but I am sorry that I put you in an uncomfortable position. I imagine you know, though, that I'd do it again in a heartbeat to save Severus's life."
The other woman nodded, taking this information in a stride. "Oh, I'm entirely certain that you would, Hermione. I believe we discussed as much as needed to be discussed about the matter on the day."
"I heard that Kingsley might be called in," Hermione said, her tone inquiring and apologetic. That was really not one of the outcomes or intentions that she had had when she had involved the pink-haired Auror.
Tonks shrugged this off. "I was working as an Order member, not an Auror. It doesn't fall under his jurisdiction, and since you're also an Order member, it wasn't as though I was really telling someone I oughtn't. To be honest," she said, offering Hermione a commiserating look, "I think the lot of them were saying whatever sprang to mind without reference to reality or logical sense. They were venting their feelings."
"I'm not saying they didn't have a right to be upset," Hermione interjected.
The other woman nodded. "They just took it too far. I swear, by the end of the conversation, you'd've thought they'd all agreed to help you but you took off secretly without them. And they kept nattering on as though they were all in the room when you came to speak to me and I was the one who was confused about what had happened."
The Gryffindor snorted.
"We both know full well," Tonks continued, "that the Order is full of a whole slew of brave idiots who risk their lives for perfect strangers; it can't possibly surprise them that you risked your life for someone you care about."
Hermione smiled. "I'm glad you think so."
"Oh, I know so," she said easily. "I know just what I would have done if Remus had been the one who was being tortured."
Hermione nodded. "That's what I said to Remus; he didn't respond quite as I'd intended."
"He brought up Severus instead?" Tonks clucked her tongue and shook her head. "Daft men are like that. I'll be sure to be suitably outraged that he didn't immediately declare that he would come after me."
Hermione wasn't above a little bit of payback. "Would you?"
"It's less than he deserves." They reached the sitting room, and Tonks turned to face Hermione with a sombre countenance and very bright eyes. "And for the record, I think he would come after you."
Hermione nodded, not trusting herself to speak because she knew they weren't talking about Remus any more. Then she opened the door and entered the sitting room. Remus was seated at the far end.
"Remember what I said," Tonks said cheerfully as a parting shot before she closed the door firmly behind her.
This was the room that she had heard more than one of the children refer to as "the chocolate room". From its taupe walls to the black walnut furniture and the cocoa upholstery, it was all brown. Hermione did not know whether the Malfoys had actually bought that many brown knickknacks or if they had altered them afterwards, and she had never asked. The big squashy couches and armchairs were particularly comfortable, and she wondered how many people Remus had needed to kick out in order to see her alone.
She crossed her arms and faced the man defiantly.
"What did she say?" Remus asked.
Hermione smirked. "That I was free to curse you as much as I liked in an effort to teach you to keep a civil tongue in your head."
A wince crossed the older wizard's face and seeing that she wasn't going to sit down, he rose to face her.
"I realize how rude that must have seemed to you."
Her eyebrows rose.
"All right," he conceded, "it was rude." He stepped closer. "But you must understand, Hermione, that my only concern is that you're happy, and I don't believe that you can achieve happiness with Severus. I just want to make sure that you've thought this through."
She drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, reminding herself that cursing him wouldn't answer any of his questions and might annoy Harry. "Remus, I've been a Pure Adult since I was seventeen. I made my choice very deliberately, and my feelings are permanent. Tonks didn't give up on you when you tried to push her away, and I can't turn off my feelings for Severus even if he doesn't care for me as I want him to. When you come in and make assumptions about what he feels and what I understand, it's really very rude, and it is bound to make us quarrel, which I would rather we didn't."
"I don't want to quarrel, either," he said immediately, running a hand through his hair in a gesture that was very reminiscent of Harry. He sighed. "I'm not convinced he's the person that you need, though, and I just want to make sure that you've considered all the aspects of what Severus is."
"I know exactly who Severus is," she corrected curtly. "I'm a member of the Order, I've lived in the same school with him for nearly seven years, and I brought him back after Voldemort found out his true allegiances. I've seen enough, Remus, and you are just going to have to accept my feelings even if you do not understand them."
"I agree that they're there," he said, sounding frustrated. "It's just … there are other options that you could see if only you opened yourself up to the possibility. You're still very young to be making these sorts of decisions."
Hermione was not at all impressed with this argument, and she made sure that her tone expressed this. "I've hardly been hanging out for Severus since I was twelve; I've experienced some of my other options, and I assure you that I made an educated choice. James and Lily were younger than I when they began to date, and they married young and happily, as did Arthur and Molly. In fact, many witches and wizards marry young, and you know it, Remus. Besides, as far as age goes, I've seen a great deal more than many women my age, and I was pretty mature to begin with.
"I know what I want," she said implacably, "and for better or worse, Severus is it. I accept that you're concerned about Tonks's safety, but if you'd listen to Tonks, you'd know that she never felt particularly unsafe or endangered. If you're using my actions with regards to Tonks as an excuse to share with me your feelings about Severus, I can assure you that I've got the message, and we're just going to have to agree to disagree, because I know my own feelings."
Remus let out a sigh. "I know you think that what you're feeling—"
Hermione came extremely close to taking Tonks up on her suggestion and cursing the living daylights out of the man. "Remus!" she exclaimed, cutting him off. "This is none of your business. I have politely entertained a fair few of your doubts because I consider you a friend, but you are not someone to whom I am obliged to answer. I will not account for my feelings to you, and I will not have my feelings judged by someone who is so wholly unconnected to them."
He looked completely stunned. "I only—"
"No," she snapped impatiently. "You don't get to tell me that you don't think my feelings will last or that you don't want me to be hurt or whatever the hell you're about to say. My choices are my own."
He swallowed heavily. "I … I realize that. I just really don't want to see you hurt."
She could see the earnestness in those golden brown eyes, and it was her turn to sigh.
"And I appreciate that Remus, but to be honest, the only one who's hurting me right now is you. I'm a grown woman, and I can take care of myself."
"Right," he answered, and she could see him struggle to accept that and not immediately launch into another argument. "I'm sorry if I overreacted; I said some things that I regret."
"Thank you," she said carefully.
She noticed that he hadn't retracted everything, but she'd be unlikely to believe him if he suddenly did. His behaviour had been poor, and it was that which he was really apologizing for. They both knew that his opinion had not changed, nor had hers. With luck, he had finally been convinced that they needed to drop this topic, because she simply wasn't going to put up with someone continually bringing to her attention the fact that Severus didn't care for her.
The conversation was over, for which she was very grateful, but she realized that she wasn't sure at this point whether Remus had intended to apologize and gotten sidetracked or if his real goal this whole time had simply been to vent some more about Severus.
That he was more like the other Marauders than she had previously noticed was not a pleasant realization. Up to this point, he had seemed rational and as friendly as Severus would allow anyone to be, but ever since her feelings for the man had come out, Remus had seemed quite unreasonable about the matter.
She was sure that he didn't fancy her, and she was reasonably certain that he was straight and quite happy with Tonks, so she didn't know what his problem was. Had he really only maintained a façade of cordiality while Severus was making the Wolfsbane for him?
If that was the case, then Tonks was going to be waiting considerably longer than a couple of nights before her boyfriend was in full working order once more. Hermione suspected that out and out asking him would be ineffective, however, and if she brought up Severus again in order to properly gauge Remus's opinion, it would allow Remus to express his opinion about Severus. She'd had enough of that already.
Whatever his motivations had been, Remus had tried to speak to her again rather than letting his hurtful question be the end of it; that was nearly positive, and she was trying to scrounge as much positive as possible. If she squinted really hard, she could almost pretend what Remus had said was an apology, which would mean that she'd gotten more apologies than she had anticipated over the whole stupid event.
"We need to get back downstairs," she said finally, quite sure there had been an awkward silence in there and not willing to do anything else to fill it. "We've a job to do."
Remus nodded, and they emerged from the sitting room to find that Tonks was lounging against the wall outside. She looked as though she were either ensuring that they weren't disturbed or hanging about in case there were bodies she needed to deal with. She scanned Remus from head to foot.
"You let him off easy," she observed.
Hermione offered her a half-smile. "There are people counting on him."
Tonks shrugged, as if to say, "If you're sure," and the three of them headed back downstairs, detouring briefly through the kitchen to greet Molly and those congregating werewolves who weren't in this trial, and finally reaching the dungeons. The majority of its occupants were wisely trying to get some sleep.
This moon, Remus, Draco, Harry, and Minerva would be supervising the transformations of the adult werewolves while Hermione had assigned herself one very specific task; by the end of the night, four children were going to be able to transform into four little wolf cubs.
It was a relief for Hermione to be able to legitimately separate from Remus as he went off to see how the adults were doing and she went to look in on the children. She was hoping that time would ease the rest of the tension between them because she definitely wasn't going to be up for another discussion any time soon.
The children had been napping periodically throughout the day. Sophia and Dorian, the two youngest, were especially prone to nightmares that meant that they didn't sleep for that many hours at once, so the adults compensated by increasing the number of naps; it was crucial that they got enough sleep, as they were going to need all their wits about them to manage what most people seemed to think was impossible. It helped that the children weren't anxious in the same way as the adults; they didn't truly grasp how difficult or dangerous what they were doing was.
Thankfully, they had time at this initial stage; the children wouldn't need to be able to transform instantly, so Hermione could spend longer on them than everyone else if need be. Before the moon set at seven forty-two Sunday evening, all four children would be Animagi; Hermione was bound and determined. She had overheard Minerva telling Harry and Draco that she had never heard of a case of a child under the age of fifteen being able to achieve the Animagus transformation, and most people didn't even attempt it until they were well into their adulthood.
If she was right about only non-virgins or Pure Adults being able to become Animagi, then what she was trying to do tonight would effectively prevent the children from ever becoming Pure Adults, interrupting that essential childhood process in some way. She wasn't sure if someone who had lycanthropy could become a Pure Adult, and she was reasonably certain that no one would choose to keep the disease on the off-chance that they could become a Pure Adult. Although she supposed it could be argued that she should not be making this choice for them, they were children who had been entrusted to her care for the cure, and she was doing what she believed was best.
Hermione knew that she would have her work cut out for her. While Alissa, who was ten years old, sort of understood how to meditate, it was a difficult concept for the eight-year-old Lou to grasp. Sophia and Dorian, at five and six, didn't have any real comprehension of what they were being asked to do. It was for this reason that Hermione had determined to take complete charge of their transformation. She had an excellent grasp of MindMagic, and she believed that she could guide them successfully through the meditation; the question of whether or not she was right was soon to be answered.
The children did understand that what they were doing was important; having all transformed involuntarily and painfully into werewolves, they wanted it to stop at least as much as the adults did. The four of them knew that they would need to listen to her carefully, and she was confident that she would have their obedience at all points because she was going to be guiding them every step of the way.
Reaching the area where the children were gathered, she found that they were just being convinced to lie down once more before the moon. Draco was the one who was currently caring for them, and if their sleepy chatter was to be believed, Draco had been exceptionally patient, not only letting them stare at him and pet him in Animagus form, but letting them ride him as well.
Hermione was reminded, in moments like this one, that Sirius and Draco were related, and she imagined that Harry would have the same thought. Hermione didn't even care if Draco had tried to swear the children to secrecy (which she gathered from the look on his face as they announced the evening's activities to her) and would probably be mortified if Harry heard. As far as she was concerned, it was sweet and wonderful, and she was sure that Harry would agree and not consider it inappropriate to Draco's dignity.
The family name was important to Draco and always would be, but that didn't mean that he couldn't be human and play with children from time to time. She'd just have to make sure that the children mentioned it at least once in Harry's presence, and then Draco would have the opportunity to see the positive results for himself.
She looked down at her young charges, thinking that Draco would have to be far, far more hard-hearted than she knew him to be before he wouldn't be affected by them. Sophia was all golden curls and big blue eyes. When she had been bitten by Greyback, her parents had abandoned her outside of St Mungo's and as far as the Order or the Ministry could ascertain, had fled the country.
Dorian and Alissa were siblings; their parents had been killed last year in a Death Eater attack in which Greyback had been let loose to play. They were the only survivors of that night, but they had an aunt and uncle who had taken them in and who would be happy to continue caring for them if—when—Hermione managed to cure their lycanthropy.
Louis—Lou to everyone—was Muggle-born, his family finding out about the wizarding world in the worst possible circumstances as they learnt that their only son could be a wizard but had been turned into a werewolf years before he would even get his letter inviting him to join Hogwarts. His parents had tried their best to care for him; Remus had helped them set up a secure location in their basement, but it had been an imperfect solution at best.
It had been he who had received the extra Wolfsbane Potion they had ended up with in October when she and Severus had both made it. Looking at the dark-haired, blue-eyed, intense little boy, Hermione wondered why on Earth she hadn't insisted that she be allowed to brew more Wolfsbane on the sly. There was no sensible reason why the potion couldn't have been slipped to isolated people in need like Lou.
His parents wrote to him every day, posting the letters to Hogwarts, and Hermione brought them with her to the safe house, taking away Lou's letters to send back to his parents. She had never met them, but she knew that they were desperately hopeful that this cure would be successful and they would get their little boy back. They had faced the prospect of his going off to learn to become a wizard bravely, but were hoping they could have him back whole and safe for several years first.
Hermione had to admit that it was a relief to see this example of loving parents; so many of the stories that she heard, especially relating to the werewolves, seemed to offer only horrible examples of human nature, as people were abandoned and marginalized for a disease over which they had no control.
All these children, Hermione realized, would be growing up with a very unique perspective. The Muggle-borns had been catapulted into this world by an act of violence, and even the wizarding children had witnessed one of their society's most horrible aspects at a tender age. Like Harry—and even her and Ron, to a certain extent—these children were being forced to grow up and face outrageous situations too early.
And that was why Hermione was here. She knew it would be a difficult task to change the collective minds of the wizarding population, but that only left her more determined. Marginalizing people created wizards like Tom Riddle, and Hermione didn't want to see the rise of another Dark Lord in her lifetime. She intended to see ex-werewolves accepted, and if she had her way, a great deal more care would be taken at Hogwarts so that no House was ostracized; she wanted everyone to feel as though they belonged.
So now she was trying to teach four children how to turn into animals. They might not understand how to meditate properly, but even little Sophia was fully enamoured of the idea of becoming a wolf. She was particularly fond of the "golden wolf" who had fur the colour of her hair, and Hermione knew that Remus spent a lot of time with her, making her giggle and forget for as long as possible how scary it was to turn into a werewolf once a month.
Hermione wondered if Remus, who'd been without proper human rights for decades, had considered just what being fully human again entailed. If he didn't make the proper inquiries soon, she might have to do it for him, or maybe raise the issue with Tonks, who hadn't had nearly as much exposure to Sophia as he had.
The children were impressionable, so Hermione and Remus had reasoned that the more frequently they were exposed to the "harmless" Animagus wolves, the better it would be for their chances. As a result, Remus and the nine wolves who had transformed on the full moon had spent a lot of time in wolf form over the last couple of weeks, allowing the children to be exposed to wolves who were friendly and gentle with children.
Hermione had made sure that there were also periodic lectures that carefully explained that not all wolves were friendly humans inside; although real wolves weren't native to Britain, Hermione was anxious to avoid potential disasters at zoos, say. If Harry could inadvertently release boa constrictors, she could only imagine what all these little witches and wizards could get up to.
When they had explained the bare bones of their requirements, Ollivander hadn't been certain that any wands would yet be ready to choose children so young, but whether it was luck or another force at work, all seven children had found wands more quickly than Harry had. Classes in which the children learnt how to properly use their wands had been added to their daily routine; they needed to feel comfortable with their wands in order to have any chance at successfully transforming.
Hermione had made it very clear to each of them that if they misused their wands, if they used them outside of class time without supervision, those so-important pieces of wood would be taken away from them, and they would be removed from the trial indefinitely. Had any of them misbehaved in a minor way, she would probably not have carried through with her threat, but she was trusting it would be enough to keep them in line, because it really was important that they didn't start running amok with wands years before most people thought they should have them.
More than once throughout the process, Hermione had been faced with adults who thought that she was insane to be even attempting this, but since most people would have thought that it was equally crazy for someone in her final year of Hogwarts to cure lycanthropy, there hadn't been too much overt interference or objection.
As far as she was concerned, there was simply no way that she could tell these children that they had to wait until they were at least fifteen to make this attempt. As several people had carefully pointed out, she could provide them with the Wolfsbane Potion until then, but the thought of making them suffer through years of debilitating transformations every single month, not to mention being shunned by society, made her sick to her stomach. She was determined to do everything within her power to make this cure a success for everyone.
Once the children were all asleep, she took a moment to check on the adults. From what she could see of those who were currently awake, they possessed guarded optimism mixed with nervousness. They'd had months now to study how to become Animagi, and they'd seen a number of their fellow werewolves cured. Hermione and those already cured had made sure to be as positive as they could be about the whole experience. No one seemed to doubt that she was committed to the cause, but there were enough variables that everyone was at least a little on edge. If nothing else, there were the memories of the disaster of the last moon along with the triumphs. Veritaserum could only give so much reassurance.
The Order members were sleeping in shifts, for which she could not blame them. Beyond her being forced to fend off the well-meaning interference of Minerva, Molly, and Remus, the night thankfully progressed without incident. It seemed that those who did not know the details could not bring themselves to believe that she needed as little sleep as she told them she did. When she was threatened with a sleeping draught, she informed them that she had been checking her food and beverages for potions for years and that all one slipped in would serve to do was annoy her, and they finally let her be.
She appreciated that they were concerned for her, but she didn't need a plethora of parental figures. Draco, who had been awake and in the kitchen making a run for tea during the last exchange, smirked merrily, and she rolled her eyes and contemplated how childish she would look if she stuck out her tongue at him. Probably not the impression she wanted to make when she was trying to prove that she was an adult who could take care of herself. She collected her tea, made sure it was unaltered, and headed back downstairs with the blond at her side.
"You're reminding yourself how nice it is that they care, aren't you," he said with amusement.
"Trying to work out the most effective potion I can slip into all of their drinks at the earliest opportunity," she corrected dryly and watched as he nearly sloshed both mugs all over his front.
"Slytherin," he muttered.
Grinning, she returned to the children as Draco moved off to rejoin the sleeping Harry.
Hermione roused the children at five fifteen as the moon was rising. Though they more often worked for the new moon from moon set to moon rise, this month, the actual new moon occurred while it was in the sky—just between Earth and the sun and thus invisible to them—over England. When she'd first looked at the dates and times for the moon phases last year and this year, she had been uncertain when she should be attempting the new moon transformations. Whereas werewolves were forced to transform during the rise and set that was closest to the full moon, they were not similarly compelled during the new moon; it was her choice whether they worked from the closet moon set to moon rise or whichever time frame actually incorporated the new moon.
Wanting to be sure that she gave each werewolf the best opportunity possible, she'd run an exhaustive series of Arithmantic equations which had ultimately indicated that it would be better to work with the true new moon. In this phase of the cure, the most important aspect was that the werewolves were trying to achieve their Animagus forms when the Were was most suppressed, and that meant when they had imbibed her Weresbane and whenever the new moon was occurring.
The children regarded it as rather exciting that they needed to get up this early in the morning to do "special thinking" with Hermione, so she fortunately did not have to be concerned about disgruntled children. Dorian, Alissa, and Lou watched closely as she began with Sophia, although there was very little for them to see since everything was going on inside; Hermione lightly connected with the little girl's mind and guided her to her core. Once there, it seemed to be almost natural even for a child so young to close her eyes and just sit calmly.
Hermione spent some minutes carefully threading in the appropriate images of the wolf and the Animagus transformation so that Sophia would be considering the appropriate material during her meditation; coming up with it on her own was a little much to ask of a five-year-old.
When Hermione had assured herself that Sophia seemed quite stable, she moved on. Dorian and Alissa had become especially close since the death of their parents; they stuck together and Alissa showed more patience towards her younger brother than Hermione had seen some teachers manage. Hermione had therefore decided to join their two minds not only to hers but to each other. It would be a three-way connection for the duration of this exercise, a bit like what she and Harry and Draco shared, except that this one was of more limited duration and with the specific purpose of meditating on the wolf form.
Alissa had understood the basics of meditation, and once Dorian and Hermione were connected, the big sister was able to share her understanding with Dorian. The two of them reached their cores without too much help on the Gryffindor's part. Alissa was even able to concentrate on the wolf, and Hermione only had to give Dorian a little help to get him focussing solely on what Alissa was trying to project. Once this was accomplished, Hermione was able to withdraw and leave the two of them to their meditation.
This left only Lou. He'd heard of meditation before, but for all he was a quiet kid, he didn't really have any use for such a practice in his own life at this age. He also had the rudiments of natural shielding against Legilimency, she discovered, but it was nothing that she couldn't easily overcome. He was a very inquisitive child, and he wanted to ask her questions about what she was doing: How was it possible for her to be in his mind? How could they have an internal conversation like this when he knew that she was sitting opposite him not speaking? Why did it felt as though they were going deeper inside of him when this was clearly all a mental construct anyway...?
She finally had to promise to try to answer his questions at a later date because at the moment, they needed to concentrate on the Animagus transformation so that he was not left behind while his friends properly meditated. He agreed to this and quieted down, and she was able to get him to the necessary "mental construct" while privately snorting to herself and reflecting that she had probably made an equally endearing and annoying eight-year-old.
When she removed herself from his mind and came back to her own for the final time for this particular task, she found that Harry and Draco had appeared. Having been peripherally aware of them, even though she hadn't actively recognized it at the time, she didn't startle, just put up wards around the children so that all her hard work wouldn't be disturbed.
"How's it going?" she asked.
"That's our question for you," Harry answered with a smile. "We've had everybody meditating for a little while now. You realize how weird it is watching you and realizing that you're jumping about in their brains?"
She smiled. "Giving them a little boost, that's all."
Harry shook his head. "But you're so matter-of-fact about it. I think you might be even scarier than Snape."
Her smile faltered, but she forced it not to dim completely. "I'm doing what's necessary for this cure. I don't futz about in people's brains just because I can."
"Of course not," Harry answered hurriedly, although this may have been a direct result of the elbow to the solar plexus that he received courtesy of Draco. "I didn't mean it like that."
"They're not going to be traumatized like you were," she said stiffly.
"Neither of us imagined that they would be," Draco answered smoothly. "In fact, they'll probably be little Gryffindor brats like you and get up to all sorts of mischief because they don't have a care in the world."
Looking down at the children, Hermione found herself sincerely hoping that was the case. Even Draco had sounded as though that were a desirable outcome.
Harry and Draco stayed for a few more minutes in order to update her on the excellent progress of all the adults, and then they headed back to start the spells proper. They'd sworn up and down that they'd come get her if they needed her, and Hermione tried to forget that the adults were even transforming on the other side of the room. She had delegated to some responsible and powerful friends, after all, so she could trust that they could do their job or ask for assistance if they needed it; all her attention needed to be on her own task.
Fortunately, now that she'd got the children correctly meditating, there wasn't any reason for them to be distracted or get bored; they were lost to contemplation of the wolf just as they were supposed to be, so even Sophia wasn't squirming after five minutes.
Whenever Hermione peeked at their minds to check on their progress, they still seemed to be thinking right where they ought to at their core, and she waited for almost an hour and a quarter before she started with the first spell.
She began with Lou, as she wanted to give Sophia the extra time, and she intended to leave Dorian and Alissa joined together. Lowering the barrier for his spell only, she cast. His eyes flew open with shock as he experienced the feelings of a painless transformation for the first time. His grin was incandescent, and she returned the expression.
The spell worked just as well for the other three, although the youngest girl had a fit of the giggles when she felt herself transforming but found that she still had her human body on the outside. She wriggled around trying to peer over her shoulder as though to make sure that no part of her had transformed, which set the others into gales of laughter as well. Hermione conjured a mirror, since they'd need one later anyway, so that Sophia could see that she was still completely human. Trying not to grin too much herself, the Gryffindor explained patiently to the little girl that what had happened in the spell was just a feeling, like being hungry; it didn't make her look any different on the outside.
They rested for three quarters of an hour, Sophia falling asleep in Hermione's arms and Dorian leaning up against his sister. Lou and Alissa stayed awake, quietly trading facts that they remembered about wolves. This was indeed how Hermione had been at eight and ten, she was sure, if not more so. In fact, she'd probably have been quizzing the adults on other details that she might possibly need to know, so it was a good thing that that possibility hadn't occurred to these two.
They moved on to the second spell. Lou and Dorian thought looking partially wolf-like was really cool, and they'd probably have been happy staying like that, for they pouted a little when Hermione ended the spell and left them looking completely human.
Alissa understood that it was a necessary part of the process, although she looked about as happy to be sprouting fur on her human face as Hermione had been in second year following the disastrous encounter with a hair from Millicent Bulstrode's cat.
And then Hermione cast the spell on Sophia, and the little girl freaked out.