Summer 1977
Hermione slammed the door to her room shut. Not caring whether it woke the others, too busy processing what had just happened. Casting a hasty drying charm, she felt her hair frizz up like a poodle but was too distracted to care. Instead, she threw herself on top of her covers and lay there staring up at the dark ceiling in shock.
She could still feel him. Echoes of his fingertips digging into her hips, the train they'd explored down her spine, his lips on hers, the marks she knew she would find on her neck in the morning. She could still feel them all, and yet she could scarcely believe it had happened.
Sirius had always been attractive. She knew that his dark hair and grey eyes had awoken something in her. And ever since fourth year when he had started not only to tower over her but fill out, shoulders broad and arms strong from hitting bludgers, she knew he was different.
He'd always occupied a very different place in her life than Remus and James, after all. Even more so over the last year where he had slowly taken over the role as her confidant and one of her closest friends, but she never assumed anything would happen. That he would ever see her as anything more than Moony's strange little twin, and yet it had.
He'd taken in his arms as eagerly as she'd gone to them. Their lips touching, feeling not like some surprise revelation so much as something they had both been subconsciously working towards. Like she was always meant to wrap herself around him.
As inevitable as it felt, she still couldn't quite believe it had happened or that she could let it go any further. Instead, she flailed her legs in frustration. Partially from the energy she still felt coursing through her after the transformation and partially from the way her body still tingled with the memory of his touch.
She woke early the next morning. Exhausted from the lack of sleep but resolute in her choices, she left a note with Tiggy and fled back to Lupin Cottage. Perhaps not the most courageous response, but she wasn't a Gryffindor anymore and was quite happy to take a few days to regroup rather than having to face Sirius at breakfast.
Stepping through the floo, her mother stood at the stove making breakfast alone as her father was away for work. Spotting her, confusion crossed Hope Lupin's face.
"Hermione?"
"Hi Mum," she replied awkwardly, chewing on her lip, not having expected to have to explain her sudden reappearance.
"What are you doing home? I thought you were staying with the boys all summer."
"Uhh – I guess I just needed some space."
Hope looked doubtful and set about pouring them both tea, muttering about how it was lovely to see her either way.
It was always like this with her mother. They were both excellent at making meaningless conversation, but it rarely went beyond that—too many years spent on opposing sides of the Remus argument.
Hermione clashing with her father for his treatment of Remus, who had always retreated, blaming himself for everything. Something that was exacerbated by Lyall's disregard of his son. The way he would look at him in disappointment while reminding Remus he would be the perfect son just as soon as they found a cure for his lycanthropy.
The worst part was Lyall genuinely believed it, and Remus did too. Her father didn't see how damaging his comments were to Remus and how her brother had accepted his thoughts just as readily.
Believing he was somehow less worthy of affection because of something done to him as a child. That he didn't deserve the full scope of their parents' love because they believed him to be a monster, no matter how many times he proved differently.
He'd protested her arguments with their father, but there was never the choice not to to Hermione. Remus had been hers for as long as she'd been alive, and if that meant they were bonded against their father's callous disregard, then so be it.
Their mother remained silent through all these arguments. She loved them. Hermione didn't doubt that. She had spent years at home with them when they were younger, mending scrapes and bruises as best she could with plasters and TCP.
Had tried desperately to make up for the fact they hadn't associated with anyone but themselves. The risk of exposing Remus' condition too great to socialise beyond the four of them, but there was nothing she could do to heal the other damage done in their home.
Besides, Hope loved her husband. So much so, she was blind to his faults. When she wasn't silent during their arguments, she was calling for peace without resolution, her answer clear either way.
She had certainly never tried to change the dynamics of their household. And instead, they were left in this sham of a relationship. Both knowing they valued their other half more than each other.
"Honey," Hope's voice broke through her thoughts, "You sure you're okay?"
Seemingly one of the few occasions her mother felt like going beyond their usual bounds of conversation, she probed further. Perhaps because of Hermione's unexpected reappearance or possibly because of her father's absence, Hope looked at her with questioning eyes.
"I know I don't always understand everything to do with your world, but if you need anything …" she trailed off, but her meaning was clear.
Hermione thought about confessing everything. How terribly her relationship with Kingsley had gone, torn apart by secrets she feared would destroy any other relationship she entered into. How even though Sirius knew most of them, she still had that fear, and even beyond that, she didn't know what to do about the fact she'd literally ran from his embrace.
But her mother didn't know even half the things Sirius did, and even if she had, they didn't have that kind of relationship, so instead, Hermione obfuscated.
"I'm fine – really. They were just threatening to make me play Quidditch, and you know I hate flying."
"And Remus is okay?"
"Yeah, Mum," Hermione sighed, "Remus is fine. I just needed to get out of there."
Despite having spent a week at home, replaying those few moments together near constantly, Hermione still didn't know how she felt about Sirius.
He was attractive, she couldn't deny that, and as much as she didn't want to admit it to herself, she liked him.
Probably for longer than she wanted to acknowledge. Thinking of the flushed cheeks of her thirteen-year-old self when they'd all gone swimming in the lake at the Potters. Not knowing what to do with those new emotions, and certainly not when they were about one of Remus' best friends.
How those feelings had never really subsided, and instead, she'd pushed them aside. Burying them in the back of her mind long before she'd ever mastered the art of occlumency. Using the fact that for all Sirius had teased and flirted with her, he'd never expressed any real interest in a relationship, to dismiss the idea.
Instead, watching him disappear off to Hogsmeade with whoever caught his fancy and the fact she was for all intents and purposes his brother's sister — even if their own relationship had never felt anything close to familial — to stop herself from dwelling on fantasies.
But then the last year had happened; the months spent working on the transformation and duelling against each other. Each little meeting chipping away at her carefully built defences while bringing them together. Bonding them in a way that had only been enhanced as they mourned the Potters.
Exposing pieces of themselves to each other, they hadn't seen before. Vulnerable pieces that Hermione doubted they'd ever have had the opportunity to know without them sharing those moments together and that she wouldn't trade even if it meant sparing herself that pain.
Even if it was knowing each other more intimately that had led to that moment of recklessness. The way they'd worked themselves into each other's lives, holding unique positions that were somehow so much more than just friends.
Positions that made it so easy to give in to adrenaline and unacknowledged desires and equally easy to want so much more than just those few moments.
Admitting that to herself meant she was forced to face the reality of the situation, though. That as much as she may like Sirius, there were still so many things working against them.
The secrets that had ruined her and Kingsley were still very much an issue after all. Even if she could admit Sirius was at least aware of some of those secrets, but there were other things to consider too.
Her brother.
Truthfully, she didn't know how Remus would feel about anything happening between her and one of his best friends.
He'd been remarkably level headed about everything to do with Kingsley, not that she would have let him be anything but. She loved Remus but had he taken it upon himself to be anything more than politely curious, she would have reminded him of his place in her life quite firmly.
Remus' potential to be overbearing wasn't what she was concerned about, though. Kingsley wasn't Sirius after all, and your housemate was very different to one of your best friends, and the last thing she wanted to do was disrupt the Marauders' friendship.
Although it wasn't so much the effect of their relationship that she was concerned about. Fairly certain that it was only a matter of time before James and Lily provided their own disruption. It was more about the potential fallout were things to go as wrong as they had previously.
She never wanted to put Remus in the position of having to choose between her and his friends. And, with everything that could lead to the things ending badly, it seemed all too likely that a tragic breakup was all that would come of attempting another relationship anytime soon.
But that didn't change the fact she liked him.
Rationality had no place in matters of attraction, and even knowing all the reasons a relationship with Sirius was a bad idea, they did little to change her desire for one.
Instead, she was stuck having retreated to Lupin Cottage to assess her feelings, or more accurately, remind herself of all the reasons nothing could happen between them.
Her actions were coming back to haunt her, though. Because the summer's second full moon was upon them, and she still had to reveal her newly discovered animagus form to the rest of the Marauders.
Something she was already anxious about doing, and she wouldn't even have Sirius' support while doing so because she'd avoided him during the week leading up to the moon.
Still, she wouldn't let her nerves get the better of her in this matter.
She could continue to put off talking to Sirius, but she was determined to be there for her brother, so braced herself while stepping through the floo to Potter Manor for the first time since she'd fled Sirius' embrace.
The wards let her through easily; having long ago been keyed to recognise her, she caught the boys having dinner. They all called out a greeting, but Sirius sat there stiffly as Hermione tried not to make eye contact with him while simultaneously explaining her return.
The evening passed as usual. The boys helping her brother out into the woods; Remus already weakened this close to sunset, they had followed her back into the house before claiming they were going to bed so they could be up early to help her brother back in the morning.
She waited, listening with enhanced senses to hear them sneak out to join her brother, and once she heard them leave, she followed.
Meeting them at the same temple she and Sirius had their last encounter, she tried desperately not to blush at the memories. Seeing her, James and Remus both swore, but there was hardly enough time for them to react to her presence with moonrise coming so soon.
Instead, she held up her hands, placating, insisting everything was fine. Locking eyes with her anxious brother, she spoke, "You didn't think I'd let them be the only ones to help you, did you?"
Before he had the chance to ask for an explanation, she transformed and watched both their jaws drop. Sirius in the background nodding slightly, clearly not surprised by her form but slightly by her presence.
She'd never explained how she was going to show her transformation to the rest of the Marauders and had decided they were unlikely to outright invite her to join them even once they knew, so she took matters into her own hands.
Remus didn't get a chance to protest her presence. None of them did. Her brother hunching over to cry out in pain as the transformation overtook him.
Quickly, James and Sirius changed too, while Hermione watched for the first time in this lifetime as her brother transformed. His back breaking open as his spine reformed; she could smell his blood in the air and was sure the echoes of his screams would haunt her for years.
She'd seen Remus transform when he was Professor Lupin, but it was different this time. She wasn't caught up in the panic of trying to escape, and it was so much worse too because while she hated to see anyone suffer, it was different when it was her brother.
To know he had suffered through this alone for years. That his first transformation had likely resulted in a tiny cub rather than the sandy-grey wolf standing before her now.
It looked around, confused at first. Stretching it's limbs, readjusting to its form, and Hermione had to remind herself that while it was Remus, it wasn't truly her brother. And while she was confident he wouldn't harm her — their bond existing beyond the physical — this was still a werewolf and one without wolfsbane to control it.
Sirius understood this and stepped in front of her protectively. Perhaps a dangerous choice, but she still, somehow, felt safer behind him, as much as she hated to admit it.
Moony growled at the action, and Padfoot lowered himself to the ground, submissive. Moony, familiar with Padfoot after months of exploring the forbidden forest together, accepted the motion, and Sirius slowly moved to the side to reveal her.
The wolf watched, curious, as she peeped around Padfoot's legs, lowering herself to the ground, mirroring Padfoot's submission as she felt Moony approach her.
Again, she reminded herself Remus would never hurt her. He had become Moony protecting her from Greyback, and she was sure that meant something. But, she still felt Sirius stiffen next to her as Moony's muzzle approached her head. Saw Prongs standing on edge, waiting to intervene at the slightest hint of aggression.
She didn't know what she expected, perhaps a soft clamp of teeth around her neck as was the norm for wolves submitting to their Alpha but instead, she felt a rough tongue rub across her head.
Caring and gentle, she felt both boys relax at Moony's acceptance, and their surprise as a large paw knocked her body towards his, positioning her under his legs safely.
Padfoot tried to approach; to free her from her new confines but was greeted with a low, rumbling growl, not aggressive but protective — the effects of Remus' infection being a product of him protecting her finally becoming clear.
She accepted the standoff for a while. Not wanting to get involved in whatever hierarchy was being established while Prongs looked on, bemused by his canine counterparts but invested in the show.
Still, she was bored of being trapped beneath Moony's legs and wanted to explore the forest again. So she did perhaps the most stupid, Gryffindor-ish thing she had thought of since she was one herself.
She sunk her teeth into Moony's leg and darted out from beneath him as he flinched away from the unexpected pain.
She hadn't bitten him hard and could taste very little blood, but Moony still made a pained yelping noise before growling as Padfoot tried to step between them. Him and Prongs both unsure how the wolf would react to such a rebellion.
Hermione didn't give Moony time to react, though. Yipping loudly before running off into the forest and letting the rest of them chase her.
With the chase turning into more of a game, Moony calmed, joining them as she and Padfoot tumbled through the woods like they had the night of her first transformation. Hermione desperately trying to apologise for her disappearance without using words.
Eventually, they all tired. Even the stag who hadn't engaged in most of their play fighting, too large to do more than run alongside them. So they made their way back towards the temple. Moony curling up to sleep, Hermione followed suit, tucking her nose under her tail as she made herself into a surprisingly comfortable circle.
She was woken by her brother's cries of pain, his body moulding itself back into the human. She turned away. Respecting his modesty, knowing he hated how vulnerable the transformation made him, Remus didn't need her watching him in those moments. Instead, she waited with her back turned for the boys to pass him his clothes and for him to say her name.
Turning, she took in his furrowed brow from where he was supported between James and Sirius and watched as he opened his mouth, "We are going to talk."
It did not sound pleased, and Hermione was suddenly dreading breakfast.
Remus at least waited until Tiggy had laid out plates of sausages and eggs to speak. Usually, he would be up in bed, but he had refused every attempt to remove him from the table. And they'd given in to his demands once he'd allowed Hermione to cast the most minimal of healing charms over him.
It wasn't that Hermione thought her brother was mad she had become an animagus. Although she did suspect he was less than thrilled he had only found out about it moments before the full moon.
It was more that she had come out for the moon at all. Risking her safety despite the fact they already knew she would be safe in her animagus form.
Ignoring the plate of food in front of him, and looking more determined than she had ever seen her brother the morning after the full moon, Remus addressed her.
"So, you've become an animagus." The words were carefully controlled and shared nothing of what he was thinking.
Looking to Sirius for help, he shook his head as if to say this was her responsibility to deal with. Which Hermione knew was fair. She had made the decision to become an animagus and keep it from her brother until the last possible minute. He had just ensured she was safe while doing it.
Bracing herself, she answered with a simple, "Yes."
Remus seemed to contemplate her words, but James cut in before he could speak, "And you knew that we were too."
She nodded again, "It wasn't too hard to figure out when Remus' moons started getting better. Also, Padfoot and Prongs? You weren't exactly subtle. Though, I doubt anyone would figure it out if they didn't already know about Remus."
Silence settled back over the table before Remus broke it, "And when exactly did you decide to become an animagus yourself."
Shifting uncomfortably in her seat, she confessed, "Last summer."
"And you managed it by yourself?"
"No," she drew out the word knowing they were reaching the part of the conversation they might actually be mad about.
Before she could explain, Sirius beat her to it, "No, she didn't. I helped her."
"You helped her!" James exclaimed, "And you didn't tell us?"
His tone was joking, but there was a hint of betrayal under the words, and Hermione instantly felt guilty for putting Sirius in this position. For forcing him to keep her secrets, those little truths that were coming to cause so much trouble in her life.
"She was going to do it, either way. I just figured she'd be safer about it if one of us helped her, and since she asked, I wasn't about to say no. How could I?"
"You could have told us."
"You'd have tried to stop her. And then you'd still have done it anyway, wouldn't you, Kitten?"
She nodded in agreement. No matter what Sirius had said on the train all those months ago, she was going through with her plan. She couldn't let him keep fighting her battles for her, though, because while she appreciated it, it wasn't his job.
"I needed to do this," she confessed.
"But why?" Remus pleaded, and Hermione looked directly into his mossy green eyes, knowing hers looked identical as he stared back.
"I had to know in case something happened and you were left alone again."
"Hermione," her brother sighed.
"No, Remus. I mean it. I couldn't risk you being left all alone again. Not when I could see how much easier things were with the boys there. I won't go back to watching you suffer. I can't do it."
As Remus processed her words, James spoke up again, "Does this mean you're coming out for every moon then? Because sneaking past Pomfrey may be tough."
"No — honestly, I was going to leave you to the moons alone. I just needed to be able to transform in case something happened to one of you. There are so many things that could go wrong, and I just couldn't risk leaving Remus alone again. Though I'll probably come for the moon in August if that's okay?" she asked hesitantly. Knowing she was encroaching on something sacred and that she had just massively disrupted the Marauders' friendship by revealing Sirius had kept this secret from them.
They all still looked shocked, but James, as always, took it upon himself to break the tension, "Well, at least Mini still fits."
She huffed at the comment. Not really wanting her own Marauder nickname — she wasn't one of them after all — but now that they knew the moniker she'd been gifted long ago matched her animagus form, she was sure they'd be even more determined to use it.
As awkward as the revelation of her becoming an animagus had been, Hermione was relieved she was no longer keeping that secret from her friends. Even if she was still keeping a multitude of others.
Including the one that had followed her in the direction of the floo after she announced her intention to return to Lupin Cottage. Claiming she enjoyed the quiet and the chance to be at home when they weren't trapped at Hogwarts.
Sirius had followed her into the hall. Spinning her towards him gently, he maintained his distance after he caught her attention. Worry shining out of his eyes, presumably due to her abrupt departure after that night. Before she thought about it, she apologised, and his eyebrows drew even closer together.
"Hermione, no," he said gently. " I'm sorry . I got caught up in the moment, but if you didn't want it to happen, then fuck, I'm so sorry, Kitten."
He still kept his distance like he was worried about making her uncomfortable, and Hermione felt immensely guilty he had been made to feel as if he had somehow done something she didn't want. As if she had been any less eager a participant than he was. Although, she supposed there was little else he could take from her actions.
She couldn't let him think that, though. Because as conflicted as she felt about her newly acknowledged feelings for Sirius, he did not deserve to feel guilt over something he didn't do. Or rather that he did do, but that she had very much enjoyed, the memory of which had entertained several lonely nights in the cottage.
Instead, she shook her head, "It's not that. You didn't do anything I didn't want."
Still, he looked doubtful, and Hermione was determined to put his fears to rest, so she continued, "It's not you. I swear you did nothing I didn't want. It's just everything else. I panicked a bit after everything with Kingsley. And then there's Remus, and … there's a lot I can't explain. But it's nothing you did, I promise. And thank you."
He tilted his head in confusion, so she elaborated, "For helping explain to Remus and James."
"I said I'd help you with the transformation, didn't I?"
"Yes, but I don't think that quite extended to explaining why I didn't tell them sooner, so thank you."
He shook his head like what he'd done was nothing. Like he hadn't spent a year helping her and hadn't continued to do so after she had avoided him for a week, and he had no reason to do so — literally, placing himself between his friends and her.
Instead, he continued to look unsure of himself, "You're sure you're okay?"
"Yeah — a little confused and slightly concerned about how Remus is actually feeling about the whole thing, but I'm fine."
Seemingly content that she genuinely was okay, Sirius smiled softly, "He'll be fine. It won't be you he's mad at anyway, he never gets mad at you. Me on the other hand," he chuckled. "If he actually makes Padfoot into that rug, I'd appreciate a spot by the fire."
Shaking her head, she was pleased they had moved past their misunderstanding, even if their relationship hadn't actually progressed any. "Don't let him be mad at you. I didn't want to make you guys fight; it was my choice."
"It'll be fine, Kitten. Just don't disappear again okay," he looked strangely vulnerable, and it seemed almost out of place on him, "Freaked us all out when you weren't there at breakfast."
Her guilt resurfaced at the thought she'd run from this boy due to her own insecurities. Left him questioning what they'd done when he was already coping with the first summer without Charlus and Dorea.
The idea she'd abandoned him like so many others, willingly or not, settled like lead in her stomach. Still, Hermione knew she'd be doing them both a disservice if she stayed and didn't try to deal with the swirling emotions inside her.
So, she apologised again before continuing, "I'll be back soon, I promise."