Chapter 35- The Old Friend

Hermione knocked on the door.

It didn't look any different, and she felt her heart leap happily at the sight of it. The roof was still thatched and uneven, and the brick walls were crumbling. Outside was the same pumpkin patch she had used to hide behind with Harry when they had first travelled back in time.

There was no sound of movement, and for a second, Hermione felt that sink of disappointment. But the chimney was smoking, and sure enough, a repetitive clunk of boots walking across a wooden floor reached her ears, getting closer and closer. She breathed in, as the lock slid back and the door was wrenched open.

And there he was.

Much like his hut, he hadn't really changed. The only indication to his youth was the lack of wiry curls clinging to his chin. His beard was shorter and less raggedy, but still full. His hair hadn't yet begun to grey, and it was wild and dark. And his eyes, well his eyes were shining and loving, just like they always had been.

"Hagrid," Hermione whispered. He heard her, and shuffled uncomfortably.

"Do I know yeh?" He asked, an unsure tilt to his rough voice.

"Erm, no," she said. "I'm new to the school, and I saw the smoke from your chimney so I decided to say hello."

Behind her back, she flicked her wand and a plate of cupcakes appeared in her hands. She brought them out with a flourish and said, grinning, "I brought buns!"

Hagrid's face melted into one of modest shock. He stepped back and allowed her to enter with a "Righ', well yeh best come in then!"

The sense of homeliness that encompassed her as she passed over the threshold was indescribable; she could boil it down to the simple fact that one minute she was stood outside in the cold, and the next she was enveloped in warmth and a reminiscence of belonging.

He directed her over to the table, where she placed the cupcakes down and took a seat, eyes scanning every inch of the place she had once visited every day. There were still oddities scattered on the shelves that lined the walls; eggs and talons, glass jars of things Hermione could only grimace at. Hams and pheasants hung from the ceiling, attached only to the beams by knots, and there was the huge fireplace, roaring happily behind her.

Suddenly, there was a dash of movement across the floor and the excitable scramble of paws and the dog was at her feet in a second, jumping up at her knee. He was tiny! Reaching only half-way up her leg when he stood. She had to bite back a squeal.

"Fang," she whispered, rubbing his dark wrinkled face. The puppy's tongue lolled out and he licked her fingers, covering her in drool.

"Eh, he likes you," Hagrid commented appraisingly.

Hermione smiled. "He's lovely."

Hagrid moved over to stand by the corner that was dedicated to being the kitchen. He asked, "Would yeh like some tea?"

"Yes," Hermione said. "Please."

Nodding to himself, he set about making some tea for them both, boiling the copper kettle that looked far shinier than she remembered it.

"So," he said finally, sitting on the chair opposite her. "Yer a new student, eh?"

"Yeah, transfer." She was still scratching Fang's head, and the pup had resigned to leaning against her legs as he enjoyed her ministrations.

"Ah, ah see. And 'ow d'you like Hogwarts then? Trust those teachers are treating you righ'?" Hagrid winked at her, helping himself to one of the buns.

Hermione smiled and said, "I love it! It feels like home already."

He looked at her then and there was something in his expression that seemed to crack and let the Hagrid she knew pour out. He said, "Aye, I know the feelin'. Came 'ere meself, I did. Never felt like I really belonged anyplace else. Ol' Dumbledore saw that an' let me stay on as Groundskeeper."

She raised her eyebrows as if she didn't already know this and he nodded. "So I assume you've dealt with all sorts of magical creatures?" She asked, having to bite back a smile at the way his eyes lit up.

"Oh, aye," he boomed, but his beard was twitching. "Y'know, I've got a herd of unicorns recently that I've 'ad to look after. Pretty things, but weak. Can't seem to fend for themselves if yeh know what I mean." She grinned at him. "We've also got centaurs, but I don't get too involved with them. They don't like me much. Mind you, they don' like anyone much…

"But I tell yer something…" He trailed off.

"Hermione," she prompted.

"'Ermione," Hagrid corrected, leaning closer. "I tell yer somethin' 'Ermione… I've always fancied meself a dragon!"

"A dragon?" Hermione exclaimed. This thrill from having met someone she knew so well like they were strangers was fascinating, and she smiled at the childlike eagerness in his voice. She could remember sneaking out with Harry, under the cloak, to smuggle Norbert out of Hogwarts. Ah, if only you knew, she thought.

"Aye," Hagrid replied. "Dangerous things, but I can' help but find 'em cute. Charming, y'know. They're just misunderstood creatures, s'all 'Ermione. Terribly misunderstood."

"I know," she said softly. "I've always thought Norwegian Ridgebacks were the nicest."

His entire face morphed into one of surprise. "That's my favourite! Did you know that Ridgebacks develop the abili'y to breathe fire before any other type o' dragon? Aroun' one t' three months!"

He proceeded to tell her all about Ridgebacks, from their lifespan to interesting facts that she hadn't even read in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. She couldn't contain her contentment at hearing him gush over something he loved. Happiness, when it came from Hagrid, emanated out of his body like sunbeams; through his eyes and smile and words. He was as passionate as they came, and she couldn't believe how little he had changed.

"Why are yeh smilin' at me like that?"

"No reason," she said. "You just remind me of a very old friend."

And although he tried not to show it, he was flustered at her reply, and he bashfully excused himself to put their empty mugs in his sink.

"So you came here then?" Hermione asked, helping herself to another bun. She'd already had two, and the sugar was starting to make her feel sick so she held it out for Fang to eat. He lapped it off her fingers, nibbling at her hand to make sure he'd gotten every last crumb.

"Yeh," he said. "Firs' place I'd ever felt accepted, y'know, with Dumbledore. O'course there were still some folk who didn' appreciate havin' a half-giant runnin' round the place, but Dumbledore made 'em do."

"Half giant?" Hermione repeated. "That's amazing!"

He blushed. "Well, ye'd be the firs' to think so, Ermione. Me mum was a giant, me dad was a wizard... 'e died when I was twelve. Tha's when Dumbledore took me under his wing. Good man, Dumbledore. Best man I know."

"What about your brother?"

"Grawp? Oh, God knows where he went. Me mum took him with her. He was a full gian' you see. She weren't ashamed of him," Hagrid said and there was a sort of sadness present in his voice, like he was trying to maintain it, trying to not let it show.

She swallowed and said, "Hagrid, your mother was a fool if she couldn't see how wonderful you are."

He stared at her, and she wasn't sure whether it was just the light or whether his eyes were sparkling with unshed tears. Hagrid opened his mouth to say something, but the words wouldn't come, so in the end, he just closed it again and nodded.

Getting to her feet, Hermione slid her arms back into Remus' coat, which she had taken off at some point due to the heat of the fire. Fang whined at her movement and she patted him. He melted into her once more. "Well, thank you Hagrid, but I think I'd better be off! We've just won a match so my friends will no doubt be wondering where I am!"

"Ah, shame yeh have to go so soon," he replied, and it sounded like he meant it, but he was smiling at her now. "Come back fer a visit, won' yeh?"

"Of course," Hermione said, as if this was the most obvious thing to do.

He showed her to the door, leaning against the side of his house to bid her farewell. One of his legs acted as a barricade as Fang tried to follow her.

"You know, Hagrid," she said thoughtfully, pausing. She tugged Remus' coat tighter around her body. "I've always liked the name Norbert for a dragon. There's something about it that just feels right."

And with one last soft smile, she began to walk up to the castle.

"Norbert," he repeated, tasting the name on his tongue. "Norbert."

It never even hit him that the kind-hearted girl, who had brought him cupcakes and chatted with him about things he hadn't ever told anyone else, had known his name, and had spoken so freely to him about things he was sure nobody else in the whole wide world knew.

Except Dumbledore.

But he knew everything.

oOoOoOo

"Sirius," Remus called, following his friend, who seemed adamant on storming through every possible corridor of the castle. He didn't slow down, or even stop at the sound of his name, merely acted as though he hadn't heard and carried on. "Sirius!"

He sighed. It was obvious he wasn't in the best mood, but that was all the more reason to confront him now, rather than later. Then, at least, he'd lash out at Remus and not some poor first year. He proceeded to rush after him.

Eventually, after chasing him up a flight of stairs and almost losing him in the labyrinthine passageways, Remus rounded a corner, panting, and was relieved to see Sirius had stopped. He came to a halt too, catching his breath.

Sirius was stood at the end of the corridor they were in, a towel wrapped around his shoulders. His hair was sticking to his forehead, plastered there from sweat and he was fuming, anger practically emanating from him.

"That was no way to treat a lady," Remus said, once he had composed himself and he shoved his hands deep into his pockets.

"Yeah, well you'd know, wouldn't you, Moony?" Sirius snarled, whipping the towel off of his shoulders. He didn't look at him.

Remus raised an eyebrow in cool interest. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," he snapped, finally dragging his eyes to him. "Your wolf hearing surely picked that up. I said you'd know, and it's obvious you do. Tell me, how do you treat a lady, Remy? Give her my coat? Should I put my arms around her and tell her I'll protect her from anything? Is that it?"

Sirius' voice was sickly sweet and sarcasm dripped from it, but it bordered on harshness. He had a gift of being as cold and hard as flint when he wanted to be; now was no exception. He was shaking.

"What are you- oh." It dawned on him then and the truth hurt him more than it rationally should. "You like Hermione."

Sirius whirled on him, eyes burning and incredulous. He stared at Remus as if the other boy was being stupid, as if he was purposely ignoring what was there in front of him. He stressed, "I like-"

But he broke off, an indignant noise, half-way between a sob and a laugh, catching in his throat. Sirius looked away. His voice was strained with hurt and anger when he said, "I'm not just a backup plan. I'm a fucking human being and yet nobody wants me. I'm nobody's first choice!"

He kicked the wall, frustration fuelling him. Remus didn't know what to say. His throat felt painfully tight and his entire body was heavy. He needed to say something.

"Uh-" He wanted to cringe. Forcing his tongue to work, he said lamely, "How come? Why do you like Hermione?"

Sirius sighed, running a hand through his damp hair and proceeding to pace. Remus stood there awkwardly. Eventually, he faltered, "I just want to be seen as someone special. I want someone to see me as something other than the disowned heir of the Black family. I want someone to see me like- like you do, like I'm more than all that."

Remus didn't miss a beat. "You are more than all that."

Sirius looked away, and his shoulders were slumped and defeated. Jealously was bitter and sharp-sounding on his tongue. "But you clearly like each other."

Remus couldn't deny the vindictive flash of pleasure that shot through him. His heart leapt, and then he saw Sirius' distraught expression, all dark and self-loathing, like his world was shattering, and his heart plummeted back down to the confines of his chest.

He thought of Hermione. Her laugh ricocheted around his brain. He shook his head, ridding himself of the sound- it was distracting. It was also not the only thing that made him ludicrously happy. Sirius made him happy too.

"It's not like that," Remus said, and the lie scorched his tongue. He wanted to take the words back as soon as he'd said them for they tasted like poison in the air. But Sirius' face morphed into one of anticipation, and he couldn't find it in himself to deprive his friend of the one thing that would him happy. "We're just friends. Nothing more."

Sirius stepped forward, and the eagerness was paralleled with the excitement in his dark eyes. "You're positive?" He asked, searching Remus' face for any indecision. But Remus was a werewolf; he was used to hiding his true colours. "So that means… What? What do I do now?"

Swallowing, Remus forced a smile and said, "You go back to the Common Room, you find her and you ask her to the ball. Okay?"

"Oh," Sirius said, and there was a tautness in the rigid set of his shoulders. Remus wondered whether he had not planned this far ahead because he hadn't expected this answer. He still seemed wound up, lost, so Remus pulled him into a hug. He melted immediately, calming because Remus always seemed to know what to say or do to bring him back round. A grin broke out across his face (Remus felt it on his neck) and Sirius murmured, "Thanks Moony."

Remus draped his arms across his back, staring at a spot on the floor. He tried to ignore the way that everything hurt because he had just signed away the two people he had bared his life to- he had given both Sirius and Hermione so much of himself that he knew he wasn't entirely whole anymore. They had both witnessed his insomnia, and seen the beauty that derived from it; they'd come face-to-face with his demons, and somehow remained by his side. They were worth so much more than a tortured soul searching for redemption, and he couldn't give either of them that. At least Hermione had Sirius- she deserved him.

She didn't deserve a monster. She deserved a prince.