TW: Injury

December 1976

The final weeks of term passed quickly. Hermione avoided everyone but her brother, knowing he needed the support and wasn't ready to talk to others yet. He was only just willing to let Hermione spend time around him after all, still convinced he was a danger to everyone in the castle.

Apart from her brother Hermione barely noticed anyone else. She still saw Pandora in their dorm, but all discussions of their plans regarding Tom Riddle and his destruction had been put on hold. She hadn't expressly asked Pandora to do so but somehow, like always, her friend had known, and instead, they spent the time in contemplative silence as Hermione tried to process what had happened.

She knew the phrase, of course. 'When it rains, it pours', and she'd never found it to be more accurate. In as many months, she had received two reminders of how her negligence could negatively impact the future.

A reminder of how bad things could become if she failed to change anything in the attack and a reminder of how much more danger she could place people in if she became so focused on possible futures she lost track of what was happening around her.

It put her in an impossible position, afraid of both the future and the present, but she didn't have time to think about it. Instead, she focused solely on Remus. Even knowing she should be thinking of Riddle, she worried too much about her brother, the damage that had been done to his friendships, and its impact on the future to focus on anything else.

She knew the Remus and Sirius from her other memories had moved passed it somehow, but she also thought that initial betrayal was what allowed the breakdown of trust in their later years.

How knowing Sirius was willing to risk someone who hated him finding out her brother's biggest secret laid the groundwork for believing Sirius was capable of betraying the Potter's.

Hermione hated the idea of it happening to them again. The idea that this initial break of trust would be like a wound festering between them and would only infect their friendship further as things grew increasingly tense through the war.

She knew she couldn't let it happen again; couldn't let their friendship fall apart in the same way it had last time. She also knew it started with repairing the rift between them, but she didn't know how. And even if she did, Hermione found she was still too angry at Sirius to want to.

As much as she knew they had to remain friends, and that her brother would suffer more without them in his life, she couldn't deny she still felt the sting of Sirius' actions. She knew Remus was the one whose trust he had truly betrayed, but she had been hurt by The Incident too, and that pain was the other reason she hadn't made an effort towards repairing their friendship yet.

Besides, any efforts to try and reconcile the Marauders that soon after would only feel like betraying Remus' trust herself, and that was something she would never do.

Instead, the end of term passed with the boys noticeably avoiding each other; she and Remus paired off avoiding everyone. James avoided Sirius, and Peter was theoretically stuck in the middle were it not for his apparent disappearance.

Kingsley was the only person she felt bad for avoiding, but she knew she wouldn't abandon Remus through all this. No matter how much her brother may insist she try and spend time with him. The idea of leaving Remus to his thoughts, to stew over his reasons that he shouldn't be at Hogwarts for Hermione to spend time with Kingsley made her feel unbelievably guilty. Instead, she insisted on sticking by her brother. The two of them avoiding everyone during waking hours and retreating to their respective dorms in silence each night.

Kingsley didn't catch her alone until the night before the Express was due to take them home. Pulling her into the alcove they'd shared their first kiss it was extremely apparent they were there for different reasons.

"Hermione," he started, thick eyebrows drawn together and worry in his eyes, "Where have you been? I haven't seen you in days."

The guilt instantly reappeared, a heavy feeling in her stomach. Here was this boy who had held her as she fell apart not even two months ago and now she was avoiding him. Still, she couldn't tell him. She wasn't bound by an unbreakable vow like Snape, but she may as well have been for the likelihood she would tell Kinglsey what happened. She would never reveal her brother's secret.

Instead, she settled on avoiding his question, "I'm sorry, I've been busy. I haven't really been around."

"You've been busy? Seriously Hermione, what happened? Because everyone knows something's up with your brother and his friends, and now you're disappearing too?"

She sighed at his response. She knew the Marauders' apparent break up had been a cause of massive speculation throughout the castle, but she had hoped Kingsley would have avoided asking her about it directly.

"Look, I can't tell you because it's my brother's business and it's not my place to share it. I'm sorry I've been absent, but Remus needs me right now, so that's where I've been."

He didn't appear overly thrilled by her answer but accepted it nonetheless, instead, changing the subject, "You heading home tomorrow?"

"Yeah," she nodded, "Remus and I are both going home for Christmas. You?"

"Staying here. I'm hoping to get early acceptance to the Auror program, and the tests are coming up in February so I figured I should probably get some studying done early."

Smiling at his ambition, Hermione was pleased they seemed to have moved on from discussions of her disappearance, even if they both knew the topic wasn't entirely behind them.

For the first time since their initial trip to Hogwarts, Hermione and Remus rode the Express back to London alone. She didn't think her father noticed. The only parent available to collect them from the station, her father, thought nothing of Remus avoiding his friends, forever ignoring his infected son.

But, looking at the ever so slightly pursed lips of Dorea Potter, it certainly had not escaped her notice that none of the boys engaged in their usual five-minute discussion of when and where they were first meeting over the holidays. Even more telling was the uncomfortable silence between James and Sirius, who, despite the valiant effort they were putting into pretending otherwise, quite clearly weren't talking either.

Therefore, it came as no surprise when she received an invitation to tea at Potter Manor a few days into the break. She had no excuse not to go, having spent the holiday enjoying the quiet company of her brother and the peace of Lupin cottage. Besides, Hermione knew it was more of a demand than a request, so she accepted the invitation and braced herself for the inevitable interrogation.

Having been led into a small parlour, it was clear none of the boys would be joining them. Not that Hermione had been expecting them to. The invite had made it clear this was to be a private event, and she knew it was so Dorea had ample opportunity to discover the truth of what was happening with her sons.

Pouring them both tea, Hermione took the time Dorea was distracted to brace herself for questioning, all pleasantries having been exchanged at the door.

Finally, taking a sip, Dorea started, "So, I imagine you know why I asked you here?"

"I have my suspicions," Hermione replied, evasively. She knew Dorea was trying to get her to reveal what she knew without any pushing but she could play Slytherin too, and wouldn't fall for a trick as simple as that.

Smiling at her response Dorea hummed lightly in agreement before continuing, "I am, of course, referring to the fact, despite their best efforts to suggest otherwise, my boys aren't talking to each other, and your brother is conspicuously absent too."

"Hmm, yes," Hermione agreed, "There may have been something on an argument at the end of term."

It was another evasive answer, but Dorea raised an eyebrow nonetheless. They both knew the boys fought plenty, about who stole the others chocolate, the state of their dorm room or other mundane nonsense, but they rarely lasted long. That they still weren't talking weeks later showed how bad the argument had been.

"Really? So, I assume it's quite serious."

"Yes," Hermione agreed, "More of a betrayal of trust than anything."

Usually, she would never share the boys' private ongoings, but she needed help repairing the damage done to their friendship and could think of no one better than Dorea, who she knew loved them all like her own sons.

"Ahh, so bad then. Can I assume this is to do with your brother's condition?"

Hermione went stiff at her words. They had never told the Potter's about Remus' lycanthropy, keeping it as much of a secret as possible. Having him come back to their cottage for coincidental trips home whenever he was spending the summer at the Manor.

The fact Dorea mentioned it so casually, caught Hermione entirely off guard before she had a chance to react though Dorea continued.

"It's okay, Dear. We've known since your second year."

"You have?" Hermione questioned, too dazed to do anything else.

"Yes, Charlus picked up on the pattern of your trips home and it wasn't too difficult to put the pieces together from there. Don't worry about that now, though. We haven't told anyone over the past five years, and we certainly don't intend to start now.

"By the time we realised the truth, we had already accepted you both as our own. We were never going to mention it to either of you or my sons. I only asked now in case it has something to do with why the boys are being so stubborn."

Hermione felt relief rush through her that they weren't about to start sharing her brother's secret, but then she felt guilty at expecting so little from the couple who had been all but a second, or maybe in her case third, set of parents. The couple who had cared so diligently for her and her brother in particular. For taking up the mantle of care when her birth parents had been unable to do so.

She felt even more relieved Remus wasn't about to experience the subtle rejections he had from their parents. Secure in the knowledge the Potter's had known for years and never treated her brother any differently. It wasn't that their parents didn't love her brother. She knew they did, more than anything, but old prejudices died hard and her father was still grappling with Remus' lycanthropy even years later.

Their mother was more accepting. As a Muggle, she had never been exposed to the same cultural prejudices as their father, but there was still much about the magical world she would never understand.

Between their father's quiet disappointment and their mother's unwitting ignorance, they had both craved more loving adult attention that the Potter's had been all too willing to provide. So, Hermione was doubly relieved that Remus wasn't about to experience his second bout of parental rejection.

Nodding at Dorea's words she heard the truth spill out of her before she could stop it. But, for once she didn't feel guilty about sharing others' secrets, knowing she likely would have given into the questioning eventually.

"You're going to be so proud and so disappointed at the same time," she started. "Last full moon Sirius got in an argument with Snape over something to do with Remus and me. Every month he transforms in the Shrieking Shack, which is warded to protect the students but it doesn't stop anyone from going in, and the boys know this."

Realisation was drawing across Dorea's face, and Hermione hated to be the one to tell her what had happened but knew she had no choice.

"At some point, Sirius told Snape how to get in knowing he suspected something about Remus. He thought it was a fantastic joke." At the last part, her voice was dead, still disbelieving that Sirius thought risking exposing Remus was amusing. She continued,

"James had been with Evans all evening, and by the time he found out what Sirius had done, it was almost too late. He saved Snape, but it was much too close for anyone's comfort. Not that it ever should have happened, but that's how we got here. Remus won't talk to anyone but me, he's so afraid of hurting someone. James is still furious at Sirius, and frankly, I've been too angry to talk to him either."

Dorea had remained silent throughout her explanation. Barely betraying her emotions on her face, only the slight hint of understanding as what happened became clear to her. Not that Hermione had expected them too, Dorea had been a consummate Slytherin for as long as she had known her. The years spent as the daughter of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black having long since schooled any shocked reactions out of her.

Regardless of watching any emotions play out, Hermione still felt terrible she was the one to tell Dorea about the damage her sons had done to one another. Although, she felt relieved to be sharing the burden all the same. Desperate for someone to offer her a way of processing such a terrible turn of events.

Moments passed in silence—both of them taking small sips of their tea while Hermione's words settled around them. Eventually, Dorea spoke.

"I suppose the question is whether you're willing to hear his explanation. I won't disagree with you that it should never have happened, but that boy has been mine since James pulled him off the Express in first year, and I refuse to believe any one of my sons would do something so malicious."

Hermione knew she was right. Sirius was brash, and reckless, and above all loyal. She'd seen him over the final weeks of term, and it had been obvious the distance between the Marauders had weighed on him. The usually loud and wild boy became increasingly withdrawn in a way that would have concerned her had she not been so angry.

Looking back now, she knew Sirius regretted his actions. Not because of whatever arbitrary punishment Dumbledore had decreed but because of the knowledge of quite how badly he had hurt his friend. Still, the anger burned in her, but perhaps in a way that could be extinguished through time and explanation.

Regulus had never missed Sirius more than he had at this moment. He knew Sirius had stood in his place a year before but looking at the figure in front of him Regulus didn't know how he had it in him to resist. Because all he could feel was an overwhelming sense of fear and a feeling that the person before him was wrong somehow.

He buried all his thoughts behind walls of occlumency. Instinctively knowing to shield his thoughts from this man before him. If he even could be called that. Regulus could tell he'd been attractive once, but now there was something so unsettling about him that it was the furthest thing from his mind.

Instead, he looked up into the permanently bloodshot eyes of the man proclaiming himself Lord Voldemort and felt only fear.

He had heard stories of this wizard. Tales passed around the dormitories of their saviour, here to cleanse society of the filth his family had warned him about. Regulus knew he had followers, most selected from the oldest, purest families and that to be chosen was the highest honour.

But here, kneeling before this not quite human figure, all Regulus could think was that he wished Sirius were there to protect him. To stand in front of him in the same way his brother used to defend him from the worst of their mother's rage.

But Sirius wasn't there to protect him anymore. Instead, his brother had abandoned him, leaving Regulus to face the fate that should have been his. To take up the roles and responsibilities that he had never wanted but had thrust upon him when Sirius left.

He could hear his mother talking about him. How relieved she was to offer a worthy son to the cause after the unpleasantness with her eldest. How swiftly she had dealt with her son. Reminding Regulus all too clearly of the state his brother had crawled through the floo last Christmas. Escaping Grimmauld Place for the last time. How badly Regulus had wanted to help him but had been too afraid to assist.

Even those thoughts were dismissed though, as all Regulus could think of was the attack on Hogsmeade that he knew had been perpetrated by the individuals in the room with him. How they had knowingly attacked a village filled with children and seemingly felt no remorse over it.

Not that he supposed any of them had heard third years crying as the stress from the trip reappeared. Or had seen the fear in the other students' eyes as buildings were set ablaze around them and spells were flying through the air. Seen the deep purple bruises that had appeared under the eyes of so many of his peers, as nightmares plagued even the Slytherin dormitories.

Finally, conversation regarding his suitability as a follower came to a halt and he was addressed for the first time by the hissing voice of Lord Voldemort.

"Well then, young Regulus, is it true? Do you wish to join our cause?"

He knew he had no other choice. He wasn't like Sirius, he lacked the courage to defy his parents, and here, now, he knew he couldn't deny this request. That if he did, his compliance would likely be beaten out of him. Besides, it wasn't as if he had any other options.

Not like Sirius who had abandoned him for the Potters. He barely knew anyone else outside of Slytherin apart from the ever strange Pandora Malfoy who would likely end up just as wound up in this as he was.

Breathing deeply, he answered, "It would be an honour, my Lord."

A grin stretched across thin, pale lips and Regulus held back a shiver.

"Excellent," the wizard replied, "We rarely accept one so young into our ranks, but I've been assured of your eagerness, so even though you have done nothing to earn such an honour, we shall gladly accept you into our ranks. Trials can come after you have taken my mark."

His parents looked on pleased behind him, while his cousin Bellatrix cackled madly about how proud she was of her baby cousin. Giving over his forearm, all Regulus could do was think back to the panic he had felt during the attack and how he was agreeing to inflict it on others.

Those thoughts were quickly drowned out, though. Instead, all his focus was put towards the burning pain coming from the wand pressed against his arm. The white-hot centre where the tip made contact, the waves of pain that radiated out of it through his whole body, making his teeth clench and his muscles strain at the overwhelming sense of wrongness from the whole sensation.

Distantly, he could hear himself screaming, but eventually, the world went black.