AN: Thank you so much everyone for your lovely reviews. Honestly, you make me cry ahahaha! To see the feedback and responses to something you put your heart and soul into is so heartwarming so thank you.

Chapter 46- The Christmas Day

They found forty Muggles hanging from trees in a graveyard about fifteen minutes away from the Potter house. Nobody really spoke about it, but they were all aware, and the mere knowledge was harrowing, eating away at their hearts.

According to Mr Potter, the Ministry had retreated and sent in a team the following night to clean up loose ends. The entire village had been obliviated and the bodies had been disposed of and that was that. There was nothing more to it.

Albeit hesitantly, Mrs Potter had supervised a shopping trip to Diagon Alley in the week leading up to Christmas and Hermione used some of the money Dumbledore had given to her to buy presents. It was only a short trip, and she was rarely alone as Mrs Potter, usually so unworried in her normal demeanour according to James, was frigid and tense. They were there for a total of fifty two minutes, before she had whisked them all away and they had flooed back to the manor.

Since then, they had done nothing else, just lounged in their fabricated safety, praying that their boredom would not be interrupted.

Peter left a few days before Christmas to spend it with his family, but not before giving Hermione a long hug, where he'd held her close and tight for a very long time and whispered, "Owl me every hour of every day."

Hermione had laughed and felt his grin against the side of her face. She promised.

And so far, she had kept it.

It had dawned on her then that Remus was not returning home, and when she'd asked him about it one night after supper, he just said, "My dad's busy," and had gone to bed without another word.

Now though, on the evening of Christmas Eve, as Hermione stood next to James, washing the dishes for his mother, she cleared her throat.

"What happened to Remus' dad?" She asked, trying to appear casual.

James flung the tea towel over his shoulder (he was on official drying duty) and ran his damp fingers through his hair. "What did he tell you?"

Hermione looked sideways at him. He sighed and said, "You asked him about it, right? And you're not satisfied with the answer. You can't be, you're you."

She frowned, uncertain whether this was an insult or a compliment.

"So what did he say?"

"That his dad was busy."

James hummed. "Yeah, I can see why that didn't appease you."

She raised an eyebrow, pausing in her chore. "So what happened?"

He faltered then, as if he wasn't entirely sure how to start. James said, "Remus' dad is... is the reason Greyback bit him in the first place."

Hermione felt the horror crawling up her throat, and her heart dropped to the very bottom of her stomach. He paused and added, "Do you know who Greyback is?"

Yes she knew who Greyback was- twisting his claws through the back of Ron Weasley, those same eyes that had creased every time she made him laugh, and narrowed when they argued; those same eyes that closed when she kissed him and softened every time they landed on her, those same eyes widened one last time, life and hope draining from them, before they fell like the rest of his body, crumpling to the floor like a sack of bones too heavy to hold the galaxy within-

Her body wanted to convulse, or sob. She couldn't speak, she just nodded silently.

James continued. "Right, well, good. Remus' dad worked at the Ministry at the time, and there had been a werewolf attack, where some Muggle kids had been killed. They brought in Greyback to interrogate and one thing led to another. Apparently he tried to get away scot-free… Remus' dad wasn't going to sit back and let that happen and he ended up calling werewolves evil, soulless… saying they deserved nothing but death…" Hermione inhaled sharply. His eyes shot to her. "Yeah, you get the point. I don't know what happened exactly. Needless to say, Greyback didn't like that." He threaded the towel through his fingers, staring at the soapy water. Hermione watched him. She knew where this story was going, but she didn't want to hear it.

"When Remus was…five, I think, Greyback broke into the house and attacked him. His dad managed to fight him off but it was too late. Remus had been bitten."

Hermione rubbed at her eyes; she hadn't realised she had been crying. James swallowed. "It was, uh, kind of a karma… at least, that's what it was to Greyback. But Remus' dad tried his hardest. So did his mum. Then his mum died and Remus hasn't been home since."

His voice broke but he cleared his throat, whipping the towel from his shoulder. He reached for a plate and started drying it vigorously. "He thinks his dad sees him as a monster. He doesn't realise that he's the only person who thinks that way. All his dad wants is for him to go home..." James trailed off. He clenched his jaw and looked away, like the truth both infuriated him and upset him greatly and said quietly, "The only person who thinks Remus is a monster... is Remus."

oOoOoOo

Someone jumped on her bed.

Hermione groaned, nuzzling her head deeper into her pillow as the someone (she had an idea who) bounced and rolled about.

"It's Christmas! It's Christmas! Get up! It's Christmas!"

She huffed, pulling her blanket further over her head. It was pulled back a second later, and a hand caressed her cheek, stroking her hair from her eyes. "Hermione," a voice murmured. "If you don't wake up now, you're probably going to be on the receiving end of a particularly enthusiastic tickling spell."

She sat up abruptly.

Remus was stood by her side, grinning down at her, his hair shining golden in the white light that streamed through the slit in her curtains. He looked pale and tired, but unbelievably happy. His eyes were shining, and he was wearing his worn-looking brown jumper, and long pyjama bottoms that trailed past his feet and along the floor. She dragged her eyes to the rest of the room.

Sirius and James were bouncing on her bed, hair sticking up in every direction, big grins present on their faces. Hermione yawned, rubbing her eyes.

"What time is it?" She asked.

Remus checked his watch and a wry smirk curled his lips. "6:30."

Her eyes widened dramatically and she looked at him, eyes flashing, wordlessly demanding 'are you serious?!' He nodded. Hermione slipped out of her blanket, reaching out slowly to grab the nearest ankle to her. The effect was instantaneous.

Her fingers wrapped around Sirius' leg and she pulled, dragging him down. In his bewildered-infused excitement, he yelped, flailing and latching onto the nearest thing, which just so happened to be an equally excited James, who came tumbling down too. They both landed on her, and the three of them lay, groaning, in a human sandwich. Remus stared at them.

"Give us a hand mate?" James muttered, holding out of his hand. Sighing heavily and murmuring something in Welsh that was undoubtedly offensive, Remus conceded, reaching out to pull him up, but James had other ideas. As soon as their hands interlocked, he pulled the taller boy down onto the pile.

Despite the fact that not one of them had willingly decided to do this, the four of them laid there, their legs twined, their hair fanned out across another's face. Hermione couldn't remember her last Christmas, but she could remember this euphoric exhilaration darting through her veins and that sense of belonging.

"We should really move," Sirius said, but he didn't. He just continued to lie there.

Hermione felt their bodies, warm and pulsing with life. She heard each small inhalation and exhalation of air they made. This was how it was supposed to be. This contentment, this affection. James was shaking with laughter, Remus was seeping exasperation. Sirius' arm was stretched above her head and his fingers played with a curl of her hair. She said, "I love you," and she meant it. With all her heart.

Before anyone could answer, the door opened once more. Mr Potter poked his head around the corner, eyes searching for his children. They fell on the bed, and an amused grin lit up his face. He shook his head fondly, and said, "Are you coming downstairs?"

They shot into action. Sirius threw his arm around her as they walked. He tugged her close, pressed a kiss to her temple and said, "I love you too, kitten."

The living room was extravagant and decorated. The tree stood in one corner, beside the roaring fireplace, and was draped in white lights, with baubles hanging from every branch. This was a result of their prior boredom as just four days earlier, they had set themselves the gigantic task of making the house suitably dressed for the festivities to come. Tinsel had been twirled around everything (Sirius was overly fond of glitter) and Peter and Hermione, despite being the shortest, had been responsible for hanging the lights. Presents, brightly wrapped, of all shapes and sizes, were dotted about the room. Mr Potter sat down in an armchair, draping a blanket over his knees, whilst his wife appeared from the kitchen, beaming and holding a tray of steaming hot chocolates.

James launched himself down by the fire, reaching for the first present. His eyes were wide and bright and he was practically buzzing with eagerness. He read the tag and exclaimed, "Mione! This one's for you! From Pete!"

Hermione faltered. As strange as it sounded, she hadn't really expected anything. She'd only known them for a month, if that, and yet they had taken her in, adopted her as Sirius had dubbed it all that time ago… The Marauders had become her family.

She moved over to sit beside him, taking the package he offered. It was small but thick and wrapped sloppily in three different types of wrapping paper. Hermione smiled; the present was very obviously from Peter.

She ripped it open and paused.

It was a stack of Polaroid photographs, muggle ones, showing things that Hermione hadn't even realised had been captured forever, but it seemed that she was wrong. Peter had been documenting her life in the past ever since she had first arrived. She felt her breath catch in her throat and she ran her thumb across the surface of the top photo. It was a picture of her and Sirius sleeping, entangled in one another, on the bank of the Black Lake. Hermione bit her lip. She remembered that day so vividly, remembered the wetness of his scraggly hair and the warmth of the sun.

She smiled fondly, and moved onto the other photographs. There was one of Sirius and James wrestling; and another of Remus trying to lift a laughing Hermione into the air; of the entire school sporting their animal attributes as a result of the prank. There were Polaroids of the five of them victorious on the Gryffindor table; of her and Peter in the snowy Hogsmeade street; of them all sat in The Three Broomsticks; of the Christmas ball and the mock Quidditch Match. There was a photograph for each memory of her time in the past. Peter truly was a great friend, and Hermione couldn't see how anyone could argue otherwise. He had locked a little piece of happiness inside each photo, and she could feel the love pouring from the ink.

"Hey, that's me!" Sirius pointed out happily, looking over her shoulder. He had collected all of his presents and had proceeded to open them in a frenzy of exhilaration, but had decided to nosy first. His finger jabbed at the photographic faces of his friends. "And Remus!"

Remus perked up from his position on the floor by one of the sofas. "Does it capture my casual good looks and witty character?" He asked mildly.

Hermione shot him an amused look. Sirius didn't seem to get it, and instead prodded her arm. She turned to look at him to see he had pushed a rather large pile of gifts towards her. "They're yours."

"Mine?"

"Yeah," Sirius said slowly. "You didn't think we'd just leave you with nothing, did you? It's Christmas!"

She swallowed, and didn't say anything, but he didn't seem to notice. He sectioned off the presents wrapped in gold and grinned at her. "Open these ones!"

Hermione laughed slightly at his excitement, like a small puppy, but did as he said and his eyes watched her every movement. She froze.

Sirius hadn't bought her one thing, he had bought her several; dresses and shirts and skirts and jeans in all different styles and colours. Hermione didn't know what to say. She lifted them up, staring at them in awe. He had bought her what looked like a new wardrobe.

"Sirius… you didn't have to do that!" She exclaimed. "I can't take these!"

Sirius waved his hand nonchalantly. "Please do. It's my Mother's money and I take great joy in spending it on the people I actually care about. Now just say thank you and accept the presents and be glad that my Mother hasn't closed off her Gringotts account."

She stared at him, and smiled, "Thank you Sirius."

He smiled charmingly at her. "You're very welcome kitten."

Hermione stared down at her pile and reached to open another present. This one was from the Potters, wrapped in red paper. It was a box, heavy and large, stretching across both her knees and she unwrapped it carefully. She reached into it and pulled out a large quill, and a leather bound journal, and multiple pots of ink.

"Oh my," she breathed, stroking the cover of the journal. It was coarse under her fingers.

"It was James' idea," Mrs Potter said, smiling. Hermione looked at him.

Face pink, he scratched his neck and said, "I figured you didn't have a lot of basic stuff, so I wanted to be useful. Plus, you're studious and I didn't really know what else to get you, so I settled for the safest option, I guess, erm-"

"Stop rambling, I love it," Hermione interrupted, beaming at him. She reached over to loop an arm around his shoulders to pull him closer, into a hug. James leaned into her. She looked at Mrs and Mr Potter and said, "Thank you."

"Don't be silly," Mr Potter said. "You're family now. Family do that for one another. It's just a shame we couldn't get you more."

Hermione beamed at him, feeling a warmth flood her chest. To stop herself from looking like a blushing fool, she looked down, but the happiness just spread through her body. She had another book, this one unwrapped, with no card or note to go with it.

Her eyebrows furrowed and she turned it over to look at the front. Peter Pan by J.M Barrie.

Sirius glanced over and said, "Peter Pan? That's-"

He broke off, freezing. Hermione looked at his face. His expression was frigid, unveiled and open.

"It's what?" She prompted.

"A good book," he replied smoothly, grinning at her as though nothing was wrong. Hermione knew there was more to it, but dropped the subject, even as his eyes flicked to the book twice more and his throat bobbed.

She moved onto her next present. It was a small box, encased in emerald paper. Sirius wrinkled his nose, "Of all colours."

She ignored him. Carefully, Hermione slid her finger under the paper, which had been loosely but meticulously wrapped, and pulled until it teared, and the paper fell. She felt her eyebrows pull together.

It was a black box, no bigger than the palm of her hand, sealed with a ribbon. She pulled on it.

The bracelet was of the shiniest silver, which curved and twisted to form a series of small flowers. Hermione slipped it onto her wrist, relishing in the cold touch of the metal against her skin. It was then that she noticed a piece of parchment, which was blank with the exception of one sentence, written in an elegant scrawl:

'Look like the innocent flower.'

Before she could stop herself, she felt her lips curl into a smile and let her finger trace the petals of one of the flowers. She couldn't believe him. The bracelet was obviously expensive and regal, and far more than she deserved. Her heart was numb with shock.

This final present was wrapped neatly in newspaper, and Hermione knew who the giver was immediately. She opened it and smiled. In her hands was a small book, with a flower engraved onto the cover. Remus had bought her a flower press.

She stared at him, watching his golden hair fall over his face and shine in the firelight. His skin was porcelain and pale and she knew why. She knew what was happening tonight, remembered what James had said-

"The only person who thinks Remus is a monster... is Remus."

-and yet, Hermione thought, he still looked beautiful.

She crawled over to him, sitting beside him. He looked at her, surprised at her presence.

Leaning closer, she placed a soft kiss on his cheek and said, "Thank you."

Remus smiled gently at her. He said, "It's for all the flowers. The forget-me-nots and the dandelions. That is, if you haven't made a wish yet."

"I haven't," Hermione murmured. "I'm saving it."

He cocked his head. "Saving it? For what?"

A lump formed in her throat and she wanted to tell him, but the words wouldn't come. For the darkness, for the war, for you-

"For when I need a bit of hope," she said instead, bumping her shoulder into his. His smile dropped and he continued to stare at her, monitoring her face. It was like he knew it all anyway.

"Hope," he repeated, lifting his finger up. She tapped it with hers and smiled at him.

"Hope."

oOoOoOo

The day passed in a haze of happiness.

She helped Mrs Potter make Christmas dinner whilst they chatted about romances and the boys and trivial things that Hermione hadn't thought she would ever care for, and then they all sat around the table for an hour or two, telling stories and laughing. Now, it was nearly 7 and they were all in Hermione's bedroom.

"Come on, Mione," Sirius groaned, throwing himself backwards across her bed.

She shot him a look from the other side of the room, where she was busy arranging all of her presents on the top of her dresser. James and Sirius were sprawled across her bed and Remus was leaning against her windowsill. She said simply, "No."

"But why?" He moaned, covering his face with his arm.

"Sirius," Hermione stressed in exasperation. "I am not doing a fashion show for you."

James grinned at the pair of them and said, "Aw, go on. Strut your stuff, Mione! It'd be good for you to see if Sirius' clothes fit!"

Sirius perked up, jumping on this opportunity and said, "Yeah! See!" She looked at them both, indecision flashing across her face, until he added excitedly, "Plus, it'd be hot!"

Her expression turned shrewd and she flicked her wrist, resulting in her duvet springing to life and wrapping itself around Sirius' helpless body, like a rolled-up pancake. "Hey-!"

Remus huffed a laugh, his arms folded across his chest. He said, "I'll hold a blanket for you to change behind, if you want?"

Hermione stared at him, then sighed in resignation. "I can't believe I'm going to do this."

Sirius stopped struggling then, and his head appeared abruptly, hope present in his eyes. "Really?"

"Not for you, Casanova. I'm just trying them on!"

James laughed, "Shot down!"

Sirius kicked him.

Remus went over to the bed, picking up a blanket to use as a cover, before making his way over to her. Hermione shook her head morosely. He gave her a half-smile. "You don't have to do it."

"Might as well," she replied. "It's not the changing in front of boys that concerns me. It's the changing in front of Sirius."

He snorted. "You'll be surprised to know that he's not as big of a dog as he lets on. He's be the blushing virgin."

Hermione gave him a look that clearly showed her disbelief at this statement.

"Honest," he said. She took Remus' hands and held them up so the blanket was stretched out for her to change behind. His face was close to her and he raised his eyebrows and said, "He's surprisingly vanilla."

A laugh escaped her before she could stop it and she bit her lip, reaching up to cup Remus' face and turn it away. She felt him grin between her hands.

Hermione slid out of her pyjamas (they had all been lazy and refused to get dress if only for the fact it was Christmas), and tried on the first things on the pile of clothes from Sirius which just so happened to be light blue flare pants that stopped at her waist and a white blouse with a high neckline and ruffled sleeves. She stepped out and struck a pose.

Sirius whooped and cheered. James grinned at her, giving her the thumbs up. Hermione felt ridiculous but there was no going back now. She walked forward, jutting her hips out, waving her arms, until she was only a few inches in front of Sirius, where she blew him a kiss. He laughed but caught it anyway.

Remus just shook his head at their antics, smiling slightly.

This continued for several more outfits and it had progressed to James and Sirius giving commentary.

"Magnificent!"

"Fabulous!"

"Oh my! If only Van Gogh could paint you! You'd put the Mona Lisa to shame, my darling! To shame!"

"Look at her work it! Have you ever seen anything as glorious?!"

Hermione changed into the final piece of clothing, a light pink dress with long sleeves and a frilly skirt that ended at her knees. Looking at it, she wouldn't say it was to her taste, but nevertheless, it was pretty and soft to touch.

She moved around the blanket once more, grinning, throwing her arms up in an exaggerated pose. Sirius and James stopped talking and stared at her, mouths agape. Nobody spoke.

Hermione swallowed, her arms falling to her side. "What?"

James' throat bobbed and his eyes were wide behind his glasses. "Nothing, you just, uh…"

Not even Sirius had anything to say. Remus let his arms drop.

"That bad, huh?" She asked awkwardly, spinning around, looking down to try and see herself.

"It's not that," Remus said, clearing his throat.

"You look beautiful," Sirius said. She stared at him, running a hand through her hair.

"You have good taste," Hermione said, smiling.

"Did you ever doubt me?" He smirked.

She tilted her head, biting back a grin and said, "I would never!"

The conversation fell flat then, and they all seemed to succumb to tiredness. Hermione sifted the material through her fingers.

Remus stretched his neck and said, "It's getting late. I think I need to-"

He broke off, his eyes landing on Hermione, and he looked away just as quickly. James jumped to his feet.

"Yeah, of course. I'll come too." He moved over to stand in front of her, pulling her into a hug. She wrapped her arms around his neck, melting into his brotherly embrace. "Merry Christmas, Hermione."

"Merry Christmas, James."

And when he let go, he smiled lopsidedly at her, bopping her nose before leaving. Hermione turned to Remus, who was adamantly avoiding her gaze.

She walked towards him, looping her arms around his waist and resting her head on his chest. He had no choice but to hug her back. She murmured, "Goodnight Remus."

He breathed in and when he breathed out, the air danced through her hair, and he seemed to slump into her, whispering, "Goodnight Hermione."

When he left, it was just her and Sirius. They looked at each other.

"This time, I'm telling you directly," Sirius said, coming closer. There was a hint of laughter in his voice but she knew he was being serious. "Just so there's no confusion-"

"Don't go outside," she interrupted, rolling her eyes and pushing his arm. "I know."

It became serious far too soon. She stared at him. "Don't let him hurt himself."

Sirius' grin faded away. He nodded, before reaching out and touching her arm fleetingly. Then, he turned and left too.

oOoOoOo

Hermione only slept for a few hours that night, before she woke up. There was something buzzing in her veins, a sort of restlessness that would not let her sleep. So she climbed out of bed and sat on the windowsill, with Peter Pan, reading by the moonlight.

A howl sounded, and she tore her eyes away from her page and looked outside. The wolf looked majestic, and far happier than she could remember it being. It was frolicking, face kissing the moon as it howled. Then, the dog leapt into the scene, yapping and wagging its tail, and Prongs emerged from the shadows, as glorious as she could remember Harry's patronus to be.

She placed the book on her lap, resting her chin on her arms and let her eyes follow the silhouettes against the moonlight. There was something tragically and unfairly beautiful about the scene, something that had her smiling for no apparent reason.

All she knew was that the slow beat of her heart had never been more comfortable. Her mind was peaceful and she wasn't clinging tirelessly to consciousness... Hermione was content. Because this was home. The Marauders were home.

AN: THIS CHAPTER IS OVER 4000 WORDS AND I COULD HAVE WRITTEN MORE!

I was so stuck writing this because I just couldn't seem to make it flow and I wanted to include all the details, like what Hermione bought her boys and the cooking/bonding scene between Mrs P and Hermione, but I just couldn't make it fit or find the inspiration to properly flesh out those scenes.

This is the last chapter at the Manor. I originally planned on only having two chapters but that's stretched into three, because I didn't anticipate how much I would love Mr and Mrs Potter. They will be appearing again! But I need to dive back into the plot.

That means next chapter is back at Hogwarts and will prompt some questions.

Was Avery the vessel? Is he a Death Eater?

Who sent Hermione the book?

What do you guys think?;)