Chapter Text
I would be lying if I said: "I'm fine"
I think of you at least a hundred times
'Cause in the echo of my voice I hear your words
Just like you're there
The Burrow was a flurry of activity, but she didn’t find the comfort that she usually did here. She felt so fragile after being so strong. She’d known for months that she’d have to obliviate her parents, but when it came right down to it… She’d thought of making sure they were safe and out of the way. She’d thought to make them happy, even without her. But she hadn’t thought of what it would do to her.
He’d found her in a corner of the garden, on a small bench tucked away and forgotten. The orange cat with the smushed face flicked his tail at his feet before jumping up into her lap. He’d stood with his hands shoved in his pockets, and for a fleeting moment she’d wondered what he’d been like as a teenager. She wondered if he’d been anything like her.
“Hermione are you okay?” His voice was always so soft and gentle. They few times she’d heard it raised, it had been to get someone’s attention or to make a point. The first time she’d heard him speak, it had been firm, unrelenting; he had been ordering the dementors away from them on the Hogwarts Express. As soon as it was gone, he had been calm, kind, reassuring. The chocolate had helped, just as he said it would, but it was his presence that she accredited her feelings of safety to.
“Remus. I’m sorry. I’m fine.” She wiped away the tears that had been steadily falling, only to have them reappear seconds later. He watched her carefully, his amber eyes steady.
“No need to be sorry. You do know that you don’t have to do this tomorrow, right? We can find someone else.”
Hermione shook her head, her brown curls flying around her face, a few sticking to her damp cheeks.
“It’s not that. I’m not going to stay here while the rest of you rescue Harry. It’s…” Her voice broke, and she wrapped her arms around herself, as if she could physically hold together her breaking heart.
Remus considered her carefully, taking a seat on the bench next to her. Crookshanks seemed satisfied, and hopped down, probably off to find a gnome to chase. Remus’s proximity loosened the painful bands of sorrow and guilt from her chest, and she gasped a breath, and another.
“It’s my parents.”
His eyes rose slowly from the nearby flutterby bush to her face. She squeezed her eyes shut, not knowing if she would be able to get the words out if his eyes met hers.
“Are they safe? I didn’t hear--”
“I obliviated them, and sent them away.” The confession tumbled from her lips, and didn’t stop. “They think their lifelong dream was to move to Australia, and they…” A strangled sob escaped, and she dug her fingertips into her ribs. “They don’t know they had a daughter. They don’t remember me.”
His arm came around her shoulders, pulling her into his chest. His movements were careful, almost questioning; as if he wasn’t sure she would allow him to comfort her or she would pull away at any moment. To his surprise, and hers, she collapsed into his chest, the sobs tearing from her throat. She felt him whisper above her, a flutter of magic surrounding them. A silencing spell. For some reason the small kindness made her sob even harder, her hands finding the front of his robes and fisting them, pulling him closer.
“Shhh, darling. It’s okay. They’re safe now.” He had one hand on her back, the other stroking her hair. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You were protecting them. When this is all over, we will find them and restore their memories of you. You’ll see.”
Her sobs slowed at his quiet words whispered in her ear, but she didn’t relax her hands or draw away. He didn’t stop stroking her hair, or whispering to her. “You’ll see them again, and they’ll understand. Don’t worry, darling. You’re going to make it through this.”
Hermione let herself get carried away in his husky voice, the feel of his arms around her and his broad chest beneath her fingertips. He radiated heat, and a small voice in the back of her mind wondered if it was due to his lycanthropy or if it was just him. He smelled like chocolate and Earl Grey tea, something earthy and clean. She could hear his heartbeat, steady and strong. His words tapered off, but she sensed he wouldn’t let go until she did, and she wasn’t ready for that yet.
She needed this; the feeling of security and safety for just a moment longer. She took in breath after breath, steeling herself for the loss of his warmth and solid barrier from the chaos of the world around her.
When she looked up at him after several long minutes, he was watching a gnome glare at them from under the flutterby bush. The rude gesture from the gnome made her giggle, and he gave a small smile, eyes still averted. She released his robes, her fingers stiff from holding them so tightly for so long.
“Remus?” Her voice was so small, so uncharacteristically unsure. His amber eyes met hers, and her breath caught. “Did you mean it? Do you really think we’re going to make it through this war?”
Emotion played deep in his eyes, but he nodded. “If anybody will, it’s you, Hermione. You won’t fail now.” He reached up, pushing damp curls away from her face, swiping his thumb across her cheek to dry the last of the tears that clung to her skin. Nothing more needed to be said, and they sat quietly until Mrs Weasley started rounding everyone up for dinner.
Remus stood first, Hermione catching his hand in hers before he could walk away.
“Thank you, Remus.”
He squeezed her hand lightly, and strode through the garden towards the house. Hermione stayed put, her chest tightening again, hoping that he was right. His words echoed in her mind, “Don’t worry, darling. You’re going to make it through this.”
If she tried hard enough, she could smell the bergamot and soap clinging to her.