A/N: I almost forgot to upload this! Got caught up with watching Criminal Minds...

Anyhow, this is my new story, "Comfort Me". I will be uploading twice a week - Sundays and Wednesdays - and have no fear since I already have 14 chapters ready, two of them beta'd. Speaking of which, many many thanks to my wonderful beta trinastar818, who agreed to help me despite the (very) short notice.

This story is darker than what I usually upload. There will be no graphic scenes, but it would still have dark parts, mantions of consentual and non-consentual sex, torture etc. I rated it M to be on the safe side.

Eventual Hermione Granger/Remus Lupin, but there will be a fair amount of Hermione Granger/Gideon Prewett before she gets her head out of her arse and stop thinking she'll create a paradox. Also, werewolf!Hermione. So there's that.

One last thing before we move on: I will say it now to get it over with. I do not own Harry Potter. Never have, never will. I do not gain money from posting this, and my bank account is prove to that. In short - not mine. Clear?

Will you comfort me?
Cause my hands are open.
Comfort me.
Will you comfort me
like someone you've chosen?
Comfort me.

Phildel, Comfort Me

Hermione didn't know where she was.

She clearly remembered Malfoy Manor, Bellatrix torturing her and handing her over to Greyback. Nausea filled her as she remembered the werewolf, and the way he violated her. Ways, she corrected herself.

After they were caught in the woods, Harry, Ron and she were taken to the Manor. Bellatrix saw the sword and tortured her for information about it. She told her all the lies she could, told her it was only a fake, but the mad witch didn't believe until the goblin confirmed her words. Then, she was handed over to die.

But Greyback had other plans for her. He didn't want to just kill her and get it over with.

"It would be a shame, to let something as pretty as you go to waste."

He took her away and disappeared.

Later, she found out by rumors alone that Harry and Ron escaped, and that she was presumed dead. She wished she really was dead. Greyback didn't let anyone near her, but himself. "My own private toy," he would call her.

She was there for little under a month, when the rumors of the Battle of Hogwarts arrived. Greyback was dead, and so were Voldemort, Bellatrix, and so many others. The werewolves at the pack knew that their day was coming and fled, nobody giving a second thought to the witch in Greyback's tent.

Nobody but one, who had decided if he was to die, he's taking her with him.

She didn't know his name, and she didn't think it mattered. All that mattered was his being, his blood thirst, and the full moon above.

She was torn apart in more ways than she had known were possible during the time she spent there, but that night was the worst by far. The cries of agony at the werewolf's transformation, the look of hunger in his eyes and the despicable pain as his jaw slammed itself shut around her shoulder.

Mercifully, she lost consciousness after that as something pulled her away. Thinking it was death, she embraced the feeling, sank into it, and expected to never open her eyes again.

Which is why she was surprised when she did.

Words brought her back, harsh spoken words, though the voice was familiar, comforting even.

"I will not hand her to the ministry and have her experimented on, Albus! And shame of you for even considering it!"

"I'm only being rational, Poppy," another familiar voice said. This one, however, caused an entirely different sensation to rise within her. Doubt. Anger. Suspicion. "The girl might belong somewhere, we must –"

"You saw the state she appeared in, Headmaster," the first voice said. "Broken bones, wounded all over, raped, bitten. I don't know where she came from but I am not letting her back there!"

Her eyes fluttered open and she took in her surrounding. She was in Hogwarts Infirmary, which was as safe and beautiful as ever. The moment Madam Pomfrey saw her patient was awake, she ran over to her side.

"Drink this," she said without delaying, and Hermione was so tired and sore that she really wanted to obey, hoping for a relief of some sort.

Her body, however, had different plans.

"I can't," she croaked, attempting to move her hand and finding out she couldn't. A silent tear escaped her eye and fell on the mattress. "Am I dead?"

"Not on my watch," the older witch said, helping her drink the potion. Hermione drank it, not even stopping to think about it. Only when she was half way through, did she realize this might be a trap.

She pushed the healer away, alert again and searching for a wand she knew she wouldn't find. Her wand was broken to two at the Manor, accompanied with laughs from everyone who were there and Bellatrix's taunting words.

"Relax, dear child," the third person in the room said and Hermione found herself once again panicking because he couldn't be here. He was dead. Harry saw it! And yet, there he stood with all his grace, perhaps a bit younger than she remembered him to be but alive nonetheless. Albus Dumbledore.

"Where am I?" she asked.

"Don't you know?" he questioned.

"I know where I think I am," she said cautiously. "But from my experience, that means nothing."

"You are at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," Madam Pomfrey said. "Could you tell us your name?"

"Emerald," Hermione said, automatically using the name the wolves in Greyback's pack called her, not even stopping to think about it. "Emerald Grey."

"Very well, Miss Grey," Dumbledore said. "Now would you please tell me how you ended up in the forbidden forest?"

"I… don't know," she said.

"Would you mind telling me the date?"

At that Hermione stopped. She wasn't sure how long Greyback had her, but it couldn't be more than a month as the night everyone fled was two days before the first full moon, when… she preferred not thinking about it.

She clearly remembered watching the full moon during one of her shifts, three days before the Snatchers got them, and she knew that Draco was at the manor, placing it on Easter break.

"I don't know how long I was out," she said, "but if it wasn't very long, then it must be early May."

Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey exchanged worried looks.

"It's August 29th," Dumbledore said softly. "And you were out for no longer than a day or two."

"No," she said. "It couldn't be. I'm… I couldn't be here…" Pieces started forming in her mind. By the rumors she heard, Hogwarts was almost entirely destroyed in the battle. It couldn't look that perfect if she wasn't out for long. The man in front of her couldn't be alive. And it most certainly couldn't be the end of August.

"What year is it?" Dumbledore asked.

She was not to trust him. She couldn't trust him. This could all be a trick, Bellatrix playing tricks on her. She might have never left the Manor. She might still be there. There was only one way to find out, she realized, as a certain piece of information Harry had once mentioned popped into her mind.

Something no Death Eater would know.

"What is your favorite jam?" she asked the man who used to be her Headmaster.

Dumbledore's eyes lit with a curious glint of surprise. "Raspberry," he said.

"And your favorite Muggle candy?"

"Lemon Drops."

She nodded in understanding. This couldn't be Bellatrix. She wouldn't know such things – she wouldn't care to check.

"The year is 1998," she finally said.

Madam Pomfrey put a hand over her mouth, shocked.

"My dear child," Dumbledore said, "I'm afraid the year is 1976."

1976? No. That… that couldn't be. She wasn't even born that year. Harry wasn't even planned – his parents were only on their sixth year. By the stories she had heard, they hated each other. Or, rather, Lily hated James.

Endless, pointless bits of information swirled through her mind. Information she didn't even know she had in store. Everything that she knew of that happened that year, everything that happened in the past couple of years and all the main events of what will happen until Halloween of 1981.

The words left her mouth before she was able to stop herself. "What am I supposed to do?" she cried, as the tears ran down for the first time since she broke at Malfoy Manor.

If it was true, if what they said was true, then she travelled back in time, 22 years into the past.

How could this be happening?

"For one, you can tell us your real name," Madam Pomfrey said.

Hermione looked at the healer with surprise. How could she have possibly known the name she gave them was fake, when she barely remembered her real name?

"I'm not sure what it is," she admitted. "I was Emerald for what seemed like forever. I… I think it was Hermione. Hermione Granger."

"In that case, Miss Granger, I would be more than glad to offer you a place at the school, if you wish for it," Dumbledore said. "That is, of course, unless you had already graduated your school, back in your own time."

"I haven't," Hermione said. "I haven't even got to finish my sixth year."

You died before I could. She wanted to add but stopped herself. Nobody must know. Her sheer being here could alter the course of history forever.

"Would you mind starting it over?" her former headmaster – and soon to be headmaster again – asked and she shook her head. "Very well, then. We must acquire you some of the needed gear. Books, robes, etcetera. You were found without a wand, shall I assume…?"

"It broke," Hermione said, not wishing to elaborate any longer than she already had.

"We must visit Olivander's, then," Dumbledore said. "What house were you sorted into?"

"Gryffindor," she said.

"Let's head out, then," he finished. "Very much to do and so little time."

Hermione nodded before remembering another thing that seemed to escape her mind so far.

"Before I was…" she started and then paused. "The last thing I remember…" she paused again, uncertain of how to ask. At last, she decided to go on as straightforward as she could get. "Was I bitten?"

A look of sadness crossed Madam Pomfrey's face as the healer sighed. "You were," she said. "But we have a solution for where shall you have your transformation. I will take you to the Shrieking Shack, along with –"

"Remus Lupin," Hermione whispered. She really hoped she wouldn't have to face him, not knowing if he died in the final battle. She had the feeling she was about to meet an awful lot of dead people.

"Indeed," Dumbledore said. "I understand you know him from your time?"

"We've met," she replied shortly, honestly wishing he would stop asking her so many questions about the future.

Even if appearing harmless, Hermione knew that all of his questions were well thought out and would definitely be used in the battle against Voldemort. When it came to those kind of things, Dumbledore wouldn't mind changing the course of time in order to defeat Riddle.

Thinking back to all she's lost, Hermione couldn't help but wondering if maybe, just maybe, justice was with him this time.

They decided to head out to Diagon Alley immediately, as there were only three days before the start of term. But as they had, Hermione found two flaws in their plan.

"I don't have any money," she said, blushing. "And I don't… I don't believe I have any clothes."

"There is a trust fund to help students pay for books, wands, robes and other necessities." Dumbledore said. "And I have already retrieved you clothes to wear until school starts."

"Thank you, headmaster," she said, the expression sounding odd and bitter on her tongue.

"You're welcome, Miss Granger."

That sounded even odder. "Don't," she said. "Don't call me Granger. It's… It's too much like… like you, from my time."

"Miss Grey it is, then," Dumbledore said and she nodded absentmindedly.

Madam Pomfrey helped her getting dressed and Hermione had to stiffen a laugh. Even though she didn't know much about fashion, she could tell that the clothes she were given were what she would imagine 70's clothes to be if she had to. Loose, colorful and mismatching.

Sighing, she finished getting dressed and walked with Dumbledore towards his office. She saw the familiar gargoyle as the old wizard said the password – "Raspberry Jam", she was certainly remembering that – and walked inside.

"Before we head out, I thought we might need to create a background story for you," he said. "At first, I considered you being a homeschool student, but being that does pose the risk of someone seeing your scar."

"My scar?" Hermione asked. "What scar?"

"The one of your forearm, dear."

Hermione looked at her forearm and true to Dumbledore's word, there it was. Cut into her skin with Bellatrix's knife, the word Mudblood, marking her as what she was. The cuts still looked as if they were freshly made, surely a result of the cursed knife.

The past few weeks tore away everything she was. She was disgraced, humiliated, and pushed down until all that was left was filth. Mudblood. Emerald.

"I am a muggle born student from France, recently moved back into the country. I studied at Beauxbatons Academy, where I also did my OWLs." The lie came so quickly and easily, it almost seemed wrong. "I will leave my birthdate as it is, but will change the year to make it fit. I was born in 1959, which makes me nearly seventeen, rather than nineteen."

"Very well," Dumbledore said. "Shall we head out, then?"

Hermione nodded and took a handful of Floo powder. Throwing it into the flickering fire, she called, "Diagon Alley!" before swirling away in the flames.

She stumbled out, right onto someone who had the poor luck of standing next to the fireplace.

"Ow!" he called as hit Butterbeer spilled itself over the two of them.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she said, moving away from him and allowing him to lift himself up.

"Let me help you," he said, reaching out a liquid dripping hand and as she took it, she laid eyes for the first time on the young man in front of her.

His face were significantly younger, a trait she supposed she would have to get used to sooner or later, and his eyes still had some childhood spirit she never got to see. Life really stomped him down in the years between James and Lily's death and the first time they have met, but there was still no doubt who he was.

Standing in front of her now, was a sixteen years old Remus Lupin.

So that was chapter one. What did you think? Loved it? Hated it? Somewhere in the middle? There's a small box down there where you can tell me anything. REVIEW!