Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

My Heart Bleeds For You	By : ThePhantomPixie Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Remus/Hermione Views: 14631 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from this fanfiction

Chapter List
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That afternoon when the rest of the students were sitting in the great hall or the common rooms awaiting the beginning of the new term Hermione found herself reluctant to even move a muscle to look around her. She simply closed her eyes and let her consciousness drift back to another time. A time that was yet to be so it seemed. How could have been so stupid as to tamper with the delicate balance that was time and space? Who was she to decide what did and did not happen to these people and how could she even be sure that it would make a difference if she had done anything. Sure, neither Sirius nor Remus had admitted to having seen her in the past; but did that mean they had simply forgotten about her or was it that they had been charmed to never remember. To be alleviated of sorts. She had read somewhere that such spells were complex and rarely ever successful in completing the task. The power of the human mind something that even the strongest of wizards and witches struggled to control without the Imperius curse. At some point however, Hermione was determined that she would return to her own time. She could not simply go back to an era that had passed and integrate herself into the lives of those around her. Not when she knew in four years two of them would be dead, one would betray them all and another incarcerated in Azkaban for a crime he didn't commit without chance of a trial nor of parole. It was saddening but it was a truth she had come to believe over the years. Added to the fresh pain of her parents deaths Hermione now understood Harry's determination to find family that loved him.

At the thought of her family she felt the prickle of tears at the corner of her eyes again. It had began as a simple reflex; her crying. She had never allowed herself the luxury of tears when she was on the road hunting horcruxes or fighting off Death Eaters. Or against the things in the Department of Mysteries, or trying to help her friend through a tournament meant for older wizards and witches, saving one of those students beyond those same doors from killing another and being sent back to prison on the back of aHippogriff no less. Or giving said friend during second year to defeat an unknown Horcruxe and a Basilisk in the chamber of secrets or no less, defeating a reincarnation of the dark lord that in their first year had attached himself to one of their professors and tried to kill them all with the Philosophers Stone. Letting her figure out how to defeat every single obstacle in their path all the while that she sat back and ignored te pressing feeling that the boys were in a way taking advantage of her need to prove her worth. Letting her do their work for them, at all times. Whether it be Voldemort or Potions class there had never been a moment when Hermione truly felt like she belonged with the boys. Sure, she was a fountain of knowledge that in the long run was invaluable to the success of the Prophecy. However apart from that what use was she to them? Had they ever really gotten to know her at all or was she just their little resident know-it-all who no matter what the circumstance would find a way to get them out of their predicament be it throwing herself into the clutches of a crazy Bellatrix Lestrange or brewing a Pollyjuice potion years too advanced for anyone in their year or heaven forbid it … getting them out of detention.

Hermione, as she sat on her bed in the dorm room could feel the cold rising emotion under her skin. Rising from her cut, leaving the tingling frost in its wake as the harsh reality sunk in. She was trapped within a time not her own with people who's fate she knew would come to an early demise. It was sickening to think of her doing absolutely nothing. But she had been warned by her Professor that meddling with the timelines that such horrible consequences could occur that she was not truly willing to do anything about it. How could she call herself a Gryffindor and find herself not brave enough to even try and fix the many heart aches that occurred during her own timeline. Who was to say that her meddling would be noticed? If she worked at it correctly …

Still that did not hide the fact that she was here, in effect with only her wand. Not even with clothes on her back, she had no money, no home, no parents … she was in far deeper than perhaps she had anticipated. How was she to get by with nothing?

A terrible thought sprung to mind, but she knew that being Hermione no such thing could ever happen. Before being raped in her own home Hermione had indeed been a virgin. A sweet, innocent sixteen year old virgin who had killed before she turned fifteen. What a sad, pitiful existence she had condemned herself to.

Why could she not have simply left herself to die on the floor of her home. At least then she knew her friends would be able to bury her and have a proper funeral. Here she knew no-one. And she was not willing to take any charity from other students. No .. she would need to see Professor Dumbledore about immediately leaving the school. She could not tamper with the delicate fabric of existence. Who knew what sort of implications that it could have where she to say … tell the group that Pettigrew would betray them … no. That would not do.

Even still, the words of Sirius Black still rang in her ears. Why would they trust her anyway. She was a stranger, something of an Enigma that was without question someone who could not be trusted.

"I really messed this up." She said softly with a sigh. Hearing a soft shift of fabric and finding Lily leaning over her gently, her smile full of concern for someone she knew to have been treated terribly. Would it be too terrible to give her just a simple smile back? The shifting of her facial muscles brought a sigh of relief from the pretty red head. However all Hermione found herself interested in was the bright green eyes that had once been found in the face of the saviour of the world, Harry Potter. Who by some sort of joke was the exact carbon copy of his father in this time. What sick twist of fate believed that alright for anyone involved. To see that the boy she had grown so fond of … seen as her brother … as the cocky playboy who in four year time would die trying to protect a girl who had yet to date him.

Fate sucked.

"Hey there." she whispered gently, sitting down beside Hermione on the bed and watching as the witches face shifted back onto a frown. This was very, very wrong. She should not be here, she should not in this time exist let alone meddle in the future.

"Hey yourself." She replied, a small quirk of a smile on her lips as she watched the girls face light up gleefully. "shouldn't you be down with your friends in the common room?" She added, watching the girls face fall into a look of revulsion.

"The marauders are down there. Don't wanna join them."

"How about if I go too? I think I need to read something to get my mind off …" Trailing off Hermione turned her head to the side and brought a hand to her face hastily to rub the water from her eyes. "Um … I should catch up." She mumbled, covering her tracks as neatly as she in her current state could.

"You sure? You've been cooped up her for a week now. I know you're all mended but seeing them might make you go into remission." The girl said light heartedly, her face honest and careless. How time would change her.

"No point staying like this." She said softly, rising from the bed and swinging her legs off the other side of the bed. Transfiguring one of the cushions by her bed into a pair of red slippers she stood upright and straight. Her brown frizzy hair tightening with another quick swish of her wand. A handy spell she had picked up from Ginny after the war. One of the few things the girls had done together since the end of the war … after everyone was gone there was not much point in really getting dressed up. But for the major celebratory event for the downfall of the darkest wizard of all time the red head had shown her friend how to keep her nest at bay, if there was nothing to be done about it. "Besides, I really do need to study." She said softly, thinking as to how she was going to pull off the charade of actually figuring out what spells were and were not still around in this time, what potions were available and which transfiguration spells were strictly off limits.

"Good! Now, wanna try something more comfortable than transfigured robes?" Lily asked excitedly, looking at the girl in her frumpy robe with a slight cheeky grin. If ever there was anyone like Ginerva Weasley …

"I don't have anything other than a transfigured robe. You know that lily."

"But I do! C'mon! I don't get to share clothes with many people. We have a similar figure and im guessing they can be shrunk depending on it they're too baggy." the kindness behind the offer caught Hermione by surprise and with a small - albeit apprehensive - smile, nodded her head. Earning a squeal from her room mate and found herself being dragged towards the girls trunk. An array of clothes being thrown her way. "Since you're muggleborn too I'm assuming you don't mind muggle clothes. The people around here just don't know how to wear a good pair of jeans for goodness sake."

"Can't really Imagine Professor Dumbledore walking about in jeans if I'm honest."

"Oh my gosh you made a joke!"

"Ah yes, humour. If I'm not mistaken the intended reaction is actually laughter. Not a correctly placed affirmation of the intended phrasing."

"Oh we're going to be best friends! The guys simply don't understand …" She said with another squeal. Aiding the girl in getting herself dressed before looking down at her work. The soft faded navy skinny jeans clung to Hermione's legs like a second denim skin. Showing off the way her hips flowed out from her synched waist. Though it was nothing to be terribly proud of Hermione had always remained on top of her figure, and after a year of starving herself on the run and fleeing from her life after the final battle her tummy had just the smallest hint of a bulge that could be considered healthy. After all, further up her abdomen was close to exposing her ribs it seemed, from the way Lily tutted over her anyway. "So skinny." She murmured once, yet refrained from saying any more. The inch of skin above the hem of the jeans showed off the creamy skin below the soft powder blue top. Across the front it read the band name 'The Eagles'. One which surprisingly Hermione found she knew from her … her parents. They had loved their music, her mother especially.

Still, it gave the illusion of cleavage as it clung to her breasts and left a small gap between the fabric and her tummy when she moved. If she didn't know any better Hermione Granger would say she looked … cute. There would never be a moment when she looked at her reflection and saw beautiful. The scars on her body seeing to that f course.

"Hey, what happened here?" Lily asked, referring to a particular scar that began on her right shoulder and carried on the land just below her left breast. Dolohov's curse had given her a lasting reminder of the darkness in the world. And it was something that simply added to the now many scars littering her body. Of course it was thicker and a dark ugly purple colour while the others faded to a soft pink. It was repulsive and immediately Hermione raised her hands self consciously to hide it, looking at Lily with a pleading expression that begged her not to push the answer from her. After all, what was she going to say? 'I was helping your son retrieve a prophecy in the ministry of magic when it was in Voldemort control and got cursed by a Death Eater who probably only left this school a year or so ago'. Not a likely thing to tell the people of this time she felt. No, the less known about her the better. "Oh … um. Sorry, didn't mean t-to ask it's just … it looks sore is all."

"Hurts every time I breath." Hermione confirmed with a short nod of her head, her voice lowering a pitch or two to show that she knew there was no harm meant in the words. But simply retaining pain that hid behind the words. She still had nightmares after the battle, the things she had seen were too much for her after being flung into the wizarding world at eleven with no prior thought to or. Or that magic itself existed. She had been crowned 'brightest witch of her age' by default because of her continued studying despite everything that went on in the world. If anything were to be confirmed in their world it was that Hermione jean Granger was in a library somewhere researching one thing or another … or in many cases concerning her; both. There was never any indication that she or any of her friends had been anything other than platonically caring of each other, so while rumours of her affair with Harry during the Triwizard tournament went on she was growing more and more fond of Ronald. She had tried so hard to make him look at her. But for some things in her life; she simply did not succeed. "Doesn't matter. No way to rid myself of it. Trust me, it's been tried." she mused, running a finger along it softly, grimacing at how terrible it looked before she pulled the top up slightly. Exposing more of her tummy but effectively covering up the heinous injury she had gained protecting the owner of the tops son.

This was beginning to get complicated.

"Come on then, I'm gonna study transfiguration I think. I was never any good at it."

"I can help if you like."

"Hey now come to think of it; how can you do so much magic. I've never seen you around."

"Better you don't ask questions, Lily. For your sake as well as mine." She said softly, following the red head toward the door when, upon opening Lily heaved a sigh.

"Potter." She grumbled before continuing to walk. Her posture was stiffer and Hermione still clutched the top where she covered her ugly scar. Finding it terribly too low for her to even considering letting it go. If someone saw the scar and questioned, she doubted the marauders would let it go as easily as her room mate. "C'mon then. Lets get away from them before they see-"

"Evans!" A male voice shouted cheerfully, followed by a thunderous stamping of feet against the ground as within seconds James Potter stood at the door of the girls dormitory. Gazing down in awe at Lily, there was no doubting the boy was besotted. But by the expression on her face, Lily was not. "Haven't seen you in ages!"

"you saw me at breakfast. And I saw your terrible prank on Severus again. You really need to stop antagonising him!"

"Snivellus needs to loosen up. Not my fault he puts too much grease in his hair."

Ah yes, Harry had once explained the on going feud between his father and Professor Snape. It was difficult to even think of him as a teenager, let alone being within close enough proximity to see him. It was a terrible thought to know that Harry's father had treated him so terribly. Sirius of course remained until his death, unrepentant. Remus simply stating that he neither joined in nor attempted to halt the proceedings. Staying a steady on looker while not participating. Still it did not make her feel any less disappointed in the man she had steadily gained an appreciation for over the years. Since he taught her in third year, Hermione found herself drawn to the Werewolf. During his full moon attack on them Hermione could clearly remember howling out at him to distract his attention. How invigorating it had felt to do such a thing. It was like she had been waiting for it; and to hear his returning howl that had seemed so soft … so broken. It was wondrous. Even if at the same time they fled for their lives.

That day had stayed with Hermione ever since. Reminding her that there was a danger to Remus Lupin; yet there was also a compassion to do what was right, even if it meant his own ultimate demise.

"Just leave him alone Potter. It's not funny anymore. You broke his nose!" The utter disgust was evident in her words as Hermione watched with a strange sickening glee. It was like a car crash you drove past, still slowing down to take a good long look even when you know someone died and there should be no-one looking in on such a disastrous event.

When she was younger Hermione always tried to avoid confrontation. Partially the reason she became so interested in books; but also because from the moment she found out she was a witch she had strived to do exactly what Dumbledore had told her to be. An equal to the rest of the wizarding world. Not a Mudblood, or a muggleborn. But simply a witch who had feelings, wants, dreams. The same as anyone else.

Hermione dreamed of that day where her knight in shining armour would come and rescue her while she was held captive by some form of evil; crashing through windows if necessary on his white worse. Sword drawn, ready to sweep her off her feet and carry her away so they may make love under a sun set and live happily ever after. Fantasies however. Never came true.

"'Scuse me … " Hermione said softly, stepping around the bickering couple to find herself faced with the odd sensation of eyes being trained on her. Something she knew well from being a celebrated war hero in her own time. Hero. Pah. Lucky to be alive? Very much so. She was no more a hero than a kneazle was a fairy. Slowly descending the stairs she heard the continued argument between Lily and James, smirking inwardly at the knowledge that not long from now they would be the happiest couple in Hogwarts. Head boy and girl … perfect for each other.

"Damn Kitten where have you been all my life!" Came the rowdy voice of Sirius from the sofas surrounding the grand fireplace. Shaking her head forlornly Hermione simply made her way to the bottom, still clutching for dear life the top and making her way over to the library and picking out a book on 'Advanced Transfiguration' and setting down with it at one of the nearby desks. "Aw c'mon doll. I don't bite. Well … yes I do. But only if you're into that sort of kinky stuff." He said, grinning broadly. All the while ignoring the tense and practically volatile expression on his werewolf friends face. There was no excuse for his crass and downright lewd comments but for lack of a better word, Hermione shunned his words from her. Ignoring their implications, ignoring their subject manner and ignoring him. She needed to work. She needed to get some sort of plan together. She needed to get home.

"Sirius! Down boy! Heel!" James hollered from the top of the steps with a chuckle. Noticing the wilting figure of their rescued woman and giving her an odd look before returning to his space beside his friends by the fire. Practically leaping onto it as the object of his desire followed the path toward the strange girl and put a hand on her shoulder. Noticing the wince and backing slowly from her. Motioning for her to come with her to some nearby chairs. It was close enough to the group to listen in and for them to feel te benefit of the fire. But far enough away so that they could be termed as not sitting with the marauders.

The first time they had really seen the girl in a week and came out looking far more like a living breathing human than the last time they had seen her. There were still bags under her eyes and the tell tale criss cross of small scars littered her arms and neck. They pitied her. And pity was something that very few people had for Hermione Granger.
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My Heart Bleeds For You