Chapter Two

It was dark. And cold. The silence seemed to stretch before her, and Hermione could do nothing. Where was she? Somewhere in the distance, she could hear the slow steady sound of what seemed to be hundreds of voices, whispering and hissing quietly.

"H-Hello?" she called out, her voice shaking and thin.

There was no answer, only the menacing onslaught of conversations she couldn't quite catch. Hermione crept forward cautiously, searching for her wand in her pocket. Her fingers met cloth and lint, but no wand. Where was it? She stopped and patted her pants, her jumper, and then knelt down to feel along the ground. Had she dropped it? That would be just brilliant. She could see nothing as she felt around blindly, her fingers searching for the smooth wooden handle of her wand. If she could just find it, she could cast a lumos and- her thoughts were cut short by the faint rustling noise and the feeling of something brushing past her, ever so gently. She jumped away, falling back onto her hands, and scrambled into a standing position.

"Who's there?" she asked, looking in vain around her, trying to see something in the endless darkness surrounding her.

There was no words, only the low menacing hum of voices, the words indistinct, merely a murmur of malice. Hermione panicked, a feeling of dark foreboding creeping up around her. Something was there. She was trapped in an unknown location, wandless, and she couldn't see, and she was going to die. Shit. The low buzz of conversation halted, leaving behind an empty and cold silence, which stretched before her. Double shit. Suddenly, a voice, high and cold and feminine cut through her panic.

"The daughter of Time" it hissed, sending chills down her back.

Hermione couldn't tell which direction the voice was coming from. It seemed to surround her, choking her.

"I've come for you child." the voice snarled softly, from everywhere and nowhere all at once. "The prophecy cannot be completed. You can't save him, or her, or anyone"

"Can't save who? What prophecy?" Hermione asked as she spun,, searching for the source of the dark words. If only she had her wand.

"Poor little lamb, trying to be the hero" the woman's voice whispered, dark mirth present in her tone. "It is such a shame you won't get the chance." the words seemed to slide down her spine, wrapping around it and squeezing in a cold, unyielding grasp.

"Because surprise poppet," the voice paused, leaving a pregnant silence hanging in the air.

Hermione stood stock still in fear, the darkness pressing closer with each heaving breath.

"I've found you." the woman whispered right next to her ear, and Hermione jumped with a small shriek. Hermione did next what any logical person would have done in her situation. She ran. A dark cruel laugh followed her as she tore blindly away, running as fast as she could to escape from the dark something that followed. She ran and ran until she thought her lungs would burst, heaving sobs the entire time. Blind panic seeped into her veins as she sprinted through the inky darkness, a terror she had never known before. She seemed to have been running forever, the sounds of dark humor echoing behind her, when she tripped over something large and solid. She rolled a bit and stopped, groaning in pain from hitting the ground so hard. She inhaled sharply, and almost gagged at the coppery smell that permeated the air. She raised a hand to her nose to block the smell, only to be shocked at the slick wetness that coated her palm. Blood. Hermione almost gagged, the familiar scent filling her nose. She struggled to get up, but slipped, noticing then that there was a large pool beneath her. She quickly checked herself all over, where was the blood coming from?

When she could find no visible wounds, Hermione breathed a small sigh of relief, but if it wasn't her blood, then who did it belong to? A low raspy breath sounded near her ear, and Hermione scrambled backwards on her hands until she nearly fell over something large and heavy that lay behind her. She gasped as she sprawled over it, the smell of blood growing ever stronger. Her hands searched for purpose and slid up the large object, and she froze. She knew what she had landed on. She slipped a trembling hand even further upwards, and recoiled at what she found. She was lying on top of a person, a man, judging by the broad chest and lack of breasts, and she had just touched their cold and wet lips. Hermione stifled a cry. It was still too dark to see anything, much less who the man was, but she began to frantically search for any signs of a wound, hoping against hope she could find it in time to heal it, or at least try her best until she could get him to Saint Mungo's.

"Are you alright? Sir? Sir!"

A bright light suddenly illuminated his face, and Hermione's eyes squeezed shut at the sudden change. She froze when she opened them. The man's skin was a sickly yellow mixed with grey, and his mouth was open slightly, his lips tinged blue, stained with a rusty brown color of old blood. There was a congealed line of that dark blood that made a trail out of the corner of his mouth, the line dark against swollen and waxy skin. Hermione raised her trembling hands to her mouth, tears spilling down her cheeks. Her breath came in small panicky gasps as she stared in horror at the dead man lying before her. The brilliant gold-green eyes she knew so well, once so full of life and kindness, stared blankly upwards, their once vibrant color now dull and glassy.

Hermione let out a desperate sob and fell backwards, her hands slipping in his blood. She bumped into something solid behind her, and stopped moving, tears blurring her already limited vision. A hand reached down and grabbed her hair, yanking her to her feet. The same laugh from before, high and cold echoed in her ears as she strained to get away from the iron grip on her hair, her scalp burning. A different pair of hands, slim and white shot out of the darkness and closed around her throat, tightening painfully. The hands constricted even further, crushing her windpipe and causing her to gasp. Hermione choked and clawed at the hands, she was going to die, she couldn't breathe and she was going to die. She let out a strangled attempt at a shriek, which sounded more like a gurgle, trying to pull at the hands gripping and crushing, but they were so cold they burned, a searing pain on her throat. The cold burned icier and icier until it seemed that it would freeze her heart in in her chest, she couldn't stop it, and she was powerless-

Hermione awoke with a start, sitting straight up in bed, panting heavily. Sweat poured down her face, and soaked the front of her nightgown. Morning sun shone through the window, and Hermione could hear people downstairs, bustling about, and dishes clanking around as Molly made breakfast. Hermione ran her hands through her hair, smoothing the wild curls away from her face. The details of her nightmare were already slipping away, and all she could remember was the unending terror that she had felt. She sighed. It was two days after the failed mission, and Hermione was still feeling the effects of being so utterly taken by surprise by an onslaught of death eaters. She was nervous as hell and it seemed that every little noise from the shadows made her jump, despite the fact that she knew, she knew she was safe at the burrow. At least for the time being. Everything that could have gone wrong that night did. No one seemed to know how the plan had gone so very wrong, but Hermione had her suspicions. Mundungus Fletcher had not been seen since that night, something Harry seemed upset about, and wanted to remedy by going out to search for the little man who gave weasels a bad name, convinced that he could be saved. But that was Harry for you, loyal to a fault, never truly believing that someone was fully bad, unless they were in Slytherin of course.

Hermione did not share the same feelings that Harry held towards Mundungus. She had always been suspicious of the conniving little man, and had been loath to include him in on the plan to get Harry, but the adults seemed to trust him enough that Hermione had kept her doubts to herself. Given the fact that he had immediately fled after Mad-eye's tragic death, he was either a massive coward or else he had played a part in the attack by selling the information to the death eater who paid the most. Hermione snorted and slid out of the bed, padding over to the dresser and grabbing a towel from the stack on top and heading down the hall to the bathroom to bathe. After showering and pulling on her outfit for the day, Hermione slipped downstairs to the kitchen, where most everyone sat at the dining table eating plates filled with hot food. Remus sat near the end of the table next to Sirius, and looked up as soon as she entered, smiling at her softly.

Hermione smiled back and walked over to them, sitting down. She told herself it was because it was the only open seat, but in truth it was just a convenient excuse to sit next to him. Remus immediately began to fix her a plate, placing slices of buttered toast and eggs in front of her. She smiled in thanks and began to eat, taking small bites and sips of her pumpkin juice. Sirius looked over and noticed Remus starting to fix her a cup of tea, and nudged him, rolling his eyes when Remus cut a glare at him.

No one seemed to have noticed, all to engrossed in the delicious spread put out by Molly to pay attention to anything that wasn't something bacon or egg related. Hermione's brow furrowed as she stirred her tea, still troubled by the details of her nightmare that seemed to evade her. She sighed and blew a wayward curl out of her face, bringing her hand up to massage her aching temples. Remus turned towards Hermione, focusing all of his attention on her. He noted her tired eyes and the deep purple bags underneath of them. She looked like hell. Another curl escaped from behind her ear and fell back in front of her face, and Remus had to physically force himself not to reach out and smooth it out of the way.

Hermione yawned loudly, causing Harry to glance up from his food.

"Are you feeling alright Hermione?" he asked a concerned look on his face.

Hermione smiled tiredly at him, reaching over to pat his hand.

"I'm fine Harry, just a bit tired this morning." she said, fighting the urge to yawn again. "More importantly, how are you doing?" she frowned reaching up to brush the unruly mop of hair away from his scar.

"Have you had any nightmares the past few nights?" she asked quietly, leaning over Remus a bit to better converse.

Harry glanced at both of them before shaking his head no, a troubled look on his face.

"Never mind me, Hermione, what about you? Gin told me you haven't been sleeping well at all."

Hermione sat up at his words, shooting an irritated glance towards the redhead at the other end of the table, who suddenly looked very interested in the dent in the wall that vaguely seemed to resemble George's face.

"I'm fine Harry, It's just a few nightmares is all" she said, ignoring the doubtful look Harry and Remus shared.

Remus placed a comforting hand on her back, and Hermione resisted the urge to lean into him. What was wrong with her today? She shook her head to clear it and sipped her tea, choosing to watch Fred and George now trying to not so sneakily add what looked like worms onto Percy's plate. Hermione tucked into her food, savoring the rich and abundant flavors while everyone talked and laughed around her.

Harry looked up from his food and swallowed, a contemplative look on his face.

"Remus, I have a question" Harry said, using his fork as a pointer to gesture to Hermione and then Ron. "Do you remember me telling you all about our fifth year, how we started our own defense club?"

"And bloody proud we are that you did it Prongslette" Sirius said, affection in his voice as he leaned across the table to ruffle Harry's unruly locks.

Harry smiled back at him and then continued. "I was thinking, what if we started up again? Only this time, we would have you and Sirius as our teachers, that way we could learn as much as possible, in case we should ever need it."

Remus frowned, contemplating. "I don't know Harry-" he started, but was cut off immediately by the raven haired boy.

"Didn't you just tell me to be prepared to kill and hurt Remus?" he asked, his eyebrows raised.

"I-"

"How can I be expected to do so without any proper training?" Harry railroaded over Remus, much to the amusement of Sirius.

"He's got a point Moony" Sirius chuckled. "I'm definitely up for teaching you Harry." he smiled at the boy, who smiled back brightly.

Remus sighed. It seemed there was no way out then.

"Fine." he grumbled, and Harry, Ron and Sirius all cheered, while Hermione smiled softly. Remus grinned back and tucked back into his food.

oOo

A few hours later, Remus stood watching Ron and Harry as they flung hexes at each other, occasionally shouting directions and suggestions, whilst Hermione faced off with Sirius. The older man threw hex after hex at her, all of which she was dodging expertly, and sending a few of her own right back at him. They had been going at it for hours, without stopping for a break, and it was starting to show on the boys. Their movements were more sluggish, and their aim was off by just a bit. Hermione however, seemed to be doing just fine, her footwork and spell casting as precise as when she first started, almost challenging Sirius with every jelly legs jinx she deflected, and every stupefy dodged. Sirius himself had risen to the unspoken task, and was now dueling much more seriously than before, trying his best to catch her unawares.

Hermione laughed as yet another one of her stinging hexes hit Sirius in the leg and he hissed, pouting at the small hurt.

"Is that the best you've got?" he taunted her, throwing a quick disarming spell her way, which she quickly blocked.

She smiled mischievously and sent her next well aimed stinging hex- directly at his bollocks. The spell found its mark and Sirius fell to the ground with a sharp yelp, very much reminiscent of a dog whose tail has been stepped on.

Harry and Ron both stopped and winced in sympathy, hands both going to cover their own groins, as if to protect them in case Hermione should turn on them. Remus however, burst into hysterical laughter, his laugh booming and loud.

Hermione startled at the sound and glanced over at him, smiling, momentarily distracted by the beautiful sound.

Sirius, still on the ground, saw his chance and took it, sending a whispered "Stupefy" in the young witch's direction, entirely forgetting to put a damper on the power behind it.

The spell caught Hermione straight in the chest, sending the girl flying several feet to land on the ground with a distinct thump.

"That's enough" Remus shouted, his previous humor now forgotten as he rushed over to Hermione, who lay on the ground, the wind momentarily knocked out of her.

His eyes flashed briefly gold when Sirius got up and made to approach her with his wand still drawn, and Hermione heard a low growl that she doubted anyone but her and a disheveled Sirius heard. Sirius put his hands up in a placating way, halting his slow approach completely while Hermione sat up, her breath regained. Remus glanced over his shoulder and offered her a hand, pulling her up to stand.

Hermione wobbled a bit, still somewhat unsteady, and stumbled, falling forwards, only to be caught in Remus's arms. She swallowed at the sight of his toned arms, and her eyes traveled up the hard planes of his chest, to his face, etched with worry. Her stomach flipped at the look in his eyes, one of concern and of something else, and something she couldn't quite decipher, and was somewhat afraid to, if she was completely honest with herself. She leaned in a bit more, and his nostrils flared, his eyes flashing gold again for a brief moment. He too, leaned in a bit closer, his grip on her tightening and Hermione's very breath seemed to be caught in her throat... when she heard a loud cough from behind her. She glanced over her shoulder to see Sirius standing there somewhat awkwardly now, staring intensely at the dirt. Remus and Hermione leapt apart as though someone had struck them with a stinging hex, and quickly tried to look anywhere except each other, both a bit more red in the face than could be blamed on the labors of dueling.

Hermione cleared her throat and brushed off the front of her jumper.

"Absolutely ridiculous" she thought to herself, and looked over to where all of the other pairs were still dueling, completely oblivious at to what had just transpired.

Truthfully, less than two minutes had passed, although to Hermione, it had felt like a lifetime. She swallowed again and refused to look at Sirius, who, something told her, most likely had a shit eating grin on his face. There was a shout and Harry fell to the ground, holding a gash on his arm as Ron looked in disbelief at his own wand, a slightly proud glint in his eyes as well. Hermione cleared her throat and risked a glance over at Remus, who was still staring at her with that unreadable look in his eyes. She averted her gaze, blushing hard.

"I'm going over to make sure Harry's alright" she blurted out, and then hurried in the direction of the two boys, who were now both laughing and clearly fine. Remus sighed as he watched her form move away, bringing a hand to the bridge of his nose to rub out what felt like the beginnings of a massive headache. Sirius walked up to him, laughing, and slapped him on the back hard.

"You really don't know the meaning of keeping things casual, do you Moony?" he snorted, rolling his eyes at Remus's answering glare.

"It's just," Remus sighed, all of the ire seeming to go out of him as his shoulders sagged a bit. "It's just getting so hard to keep it from her" his eyes were sad

Sirius nudged him lightly with his shoulder. "It'll be fine Moony, won't be long now before she finds out"

Remus snorted "how do you figure that?"

"Well she's about the age she was when Andi found her, so it can't be too far away now can it?" Sirius smiled, but it was strained and didn't quite meet his eyes.

Now it was Remus's turn to be concerned. He lowered his voice even further.

"How are you holding up Pads? How long has it been now, since you've-?"

"Seventeen years" Sirius cut him off abruptly, his tone sharp with grief.

"Maybe you could-"

"You know as well as I do that can't happen. She doesn't even know who I am, and I would like to keep it that way, for her sake. At least this way she's safe" Sirius's tone brokered no argument.

Remus sighed and nodded, knowing it was still such a sensitive subject for the man. He looked back over to where Hermione now stood with the boys, laughing and rolling her eyes as Harry attempted to hex Ron back whilst she was still applying dittany to his wound.

"Let's just let sleeping dogs lie, eh?" Sirius continued quietly, his voice soft and sad. He walked back towards the burrow, the conversation clearly over for now.