Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling. All characters, places, descriptions, etc (unless original and created by me) belong to her.

Summary: It was a small pack, of course, just the five of them, but together they were something wild. Hermione finds herself in the Marauders' Era with four new best friends.

Chapter 15: Ejusdem Generis*

15 September 1977

The Library

She was in the library again. It always seemed to happen, no matter where she was—Hogwarts in the 90s, Grimmauld Place, Hogwarts in the 70s. Always the library. It made her smile. At least she was constant.

Two weeks, she had been there two weeks already. She could barely believe it. And although she was constantly reminded of what she left behind—no, who she left behind—she found herself falling into a routine. Each morning she would go to breakfast with Lily, Marlene, Mary, and Dorcas. Some days she chatted with them, letting them catch her up on the Hogwarts gossip. But other days she would scoot over, just a bit, and sit with the Marauders.

She liked being close to Remus, physically close. It calmed her, especially whenever Snape was near. Hermione was constantly thinking of ways to touch Remus without seeming completely clingy and crazy. He quickly caught on, much to her embarrassment, but he seemed to understand and never hesitated to take her hand whenever her heart rate started to speed.

Both werewolves appeared to be benefiting from the presence of the other. Remus was losing his pallor and bulking up, his face finally gaining the previously unattainable youthful glow of a seventeen-year-old boy. And Hermione on the other hand—well, the benefits of having Remus close would have been visible if she had actually been sleeping.

Back in 1997, Hermione had stopped having nightmares about the night Moony bit her, but 1977 had triggered them again. Her dreams were always different, though. She never dreamed about the actual event; it was always something different. But two things remained constant. The first – Moony, always primed for the bite. The image of Moony with his jaw open, fangs bared, was cemented in her mind. It was terrifying for sure, especially in her dreams, but it was the second constant that kept Hermione awake until the sun rose. Sirius. She always called out for Sirius, for Padfoot, just as she had in 1997, and each time, without fail, the younger Sirius showed up and refused to help her. Every damn time.

So every night, Hermione found herself tiptoeing out of her dormitory to the common room. She had run into Sirius a couple of times, but after the fourth or fifth time, he stopped showing up. And judging by the dark circles under his eyes, it wasn't because he was sleeping. Hermione was hurt, but at the same time grateful. It had been hard, waking up from a nightmare where Sirius didn't save her only to run into him seconds later. Plus, when she was alone in the common room she could pretend that she was home, that Ron and Harry were asleep upstairs.

She would stay up for a couple of hours, reading or working ahead on school work until she felt ready to go back to sleep. And then each morning, she would go down to breakfast with the girls, as if nothing had happened. It didn't take long before Lily noticed the growing circle's below Hermione's eyes, but when she asked, Hermione just brushed it off as her adjusting to a new environment. Lily didn't bring it up again, but from then on she kept an eye on Hermione.

Classes were strange for Hermione. For the most part, she had alreadylearned everything set for the seventh year students. It made sense. She was twenty years ahead; times had changed.

The most startling difference, however, was Defense Against the Dark Arts. It seemed the curriculum before the war was actually more advanced than the curriculum after. Despite the students of the seventies having a new professor each year much like Hermione, their material actually followed a progressing path. Hermione was pleasantly surprised.

This year's professor, Russian-born Danila Novikov, was impressive to say the least. If it hadn't been for the DA, Hermione would have been behind the seventh years. Apparently, dueling examinations had been a requisite since fourth year, and defensive spells were heavily stressed.

Seeing professors made Hermione uneasy, specifically the ones she already knew like Professors McGonagall and Slughorn. The professors clearly knew her in this time as she had been officially introduced to each one. But none of the professors she had met her first time around had expressed recognition in her years at Hogwarts. How could Remus and Sirius remember her and not the professors?

Gone were the days when Hermione would eagerly launch from her seat to answer every question and prove her knowledge. This time, Hermione felt compelled to remain in the shadows. She sat close to the wall and never in the first row. It was one thing getting to know the Marauders and Lily, who she felt she knew at least a bit, but Hermione felt strange about making an impression on strangers in this time.

All in all, Hermione found herself relaxed in classes. While she would have preferred learning new things and spending her time as she had before, studying and reading in her free time, she had more pressing matters to occupy her mind.

The Marauders for one. Her relationship with Remus had easily slid into a comfortable friendship. When she talked with Remus, she often had to remind herself that he was different, not the same. When she was with him she felt like she was home. James and Peter had readily accepted her as well. It seemed her friendship with Remus was enough to convince them she was worthy of their friendship as well.

Sirius, on the other hand... That boy frustrated her to no end. Yes, he had grown up in a heavily prejudiced atmosphere, and yes, he was basically raised to not trust people. Hermione couldn't fault him for that. But she thought that six years with the Marauders would have fixed him. Apparently not. He wasn't outright rude to her, but it was the little things he would do that cut her down. He never sat beside her, never talked directly to her, never let himself be alone with her, and he always kept a watch on her out of the corner of his eye. Hermione tried to talk with him, let him get to know her, but it seemed he was steeled in his decision to deny her.

And it certainly didn't help she was spending time with Regulus.

She had found Regulus' study spot in the library on accident. She had been searching for a book of time travel incidents when she turned a corner and saw him. Hidden away by the History of Magic books, Regulus was sitting at a desk sketching. She didn't approach him for two days, always sitting on the floor a row over, separated by a wall of books. On the third day, she had been once again sitting on the floor when an enchanted paper airplane floated over to her.

The paper was a rough sketch of Hermione as she was, sitting on the floor and reading, as viewed through the gaps in a bookshelf. Regulus had written a message on the bottom in perfect pureblood calligraphy. To: Hermione

On the next day and the days that followed, Hermione sat with Regulus. She studied with him and read all the time travel and lycanthropy books she could find. Regulus studied, but more often than not he was sketching, drawing in the margins of his schoolbooks or loose pieces of parchment. Sometimes he sketched the library architecture; sometimes it was facial features, unknown eyes and lips and noses. And sometimes he drew Hermione. They didn't talk much, but it seemed to work for them.

Now, two weeks into her time in the past, she found herself once again sitting with Regulus. He was waving a hand in front of her face. She blinked twice and waited for her eyes to readjust.

"Sorry, what?"

"I was just telling you dinner is starting soon," he said, whispering. He cocked his head to the side, looking at her with wonder. "Where do you go?"

"What do you mean?" She set her book down, careful to cover the title with her arm.

"You spend half your time somewhere else. I was just wondering where you went?"

"Oh." Regulus patiently waited for her to answer. "I was just thinking about how different it is here. I never imagined my seventh year to be like this."

"You miss your friends." He said it matter-of-factly.

"Yes, I miss my friends."

"Do you write them?"

"I-I can't talk to them. It's complicated." Regulus reached for her right hand and squeezed it lightly before slipping a piece of paper under the cover of her book. He looked as if he wanted to say something more, but instead gathered his belongings, nodded to Hermione, and left. She sighed and watched him leave.

"You shouldn't be doing that," a slick voice called to her as a body moved into line of vision. Hermione narrowed her eyes.

"Were you spying on me?"

"You're a Gryffindor. Didn't your little friends explain this to you? You can't have both."

"I don't need anyone to tell me who I can and can't be friends with."

"Clearly," Snape huffed. "Just look at who you've picked out so far. The dynamic duo, the lemming, and the monster." Hermione's eyes widened. This was the second time he had referenced Remus' lycanthropy in her presence.

"What did you just say?" Hermione winced at the triumphant smirk that streaked across Snape's face at her outburst. Then, his tone grew serious, as if he was honestly trying to warn Hermione.

"They're not gods you know. Everyone thinks they're so great, but they're just petulant children who don't understand consequences."

Hermione's heart rate picked up. She stood up.

"Listen, Pro-Snape," Hermione barely caught herself. "I don't think they're perfect. I know they're flawed. But don't call him a monster, when you're capable of the exact same thing."

She quickly grabbed her books. Her knuckles turned white against them.

"Ha, I'm not capable of half the destruction he is. He's an abomination, an atrocity."

Hermione used all her strength to keep her mouth shut and push past Snape. His nerve was incredible. Hermione's free hand was clenched in a fist around her wand. Her fingernails were digging into her palm, her skin pricking with pain. She exited the library and started toward Gryffindor Tower. She needed to find Remus.

Ten steps later, and Hermione found herself on the floor, books everywhere. She crawled on the floor as another body helped her pick up her belongings. A familiar scent flushed her senses.

"Honestly!?" Hermione questioned the world under her breath. As they stood, Sirius' face recovered from his initial shock of running into her. It relaxed for a moment before it hardened again. He handed her the book he had picked up. Hermione was breathing heavy, her face was flushed and her heart was beating out of her chest. She looked feral.

"Where's Remus, Sirius?" She didn't have the patience to deal with Sirius' immaturity at the moment.

"What? Really? You-" Hermione had stowed her wand and held up her right hand.

"No, Sirius, I don't have time. Where is Remus?"

Sirius grabbed her wrist and stared at it, breathing in. He then looked her in the eyes.

"Done with my brother then?"

"Excuse me?" Sirius released her wrist. His eyes flitted to the books in her left hand. He grabbed at the piece of paper sticking out of one. His eyes burned with recognition, and he turned it over to show her. Regulus had sketched her again.

"Remus deserves better than that." Sirius shoved the paper in his pocket and brushed past Hermione.

Hermione's jaw dropped. Did-did Sirius just suggest… No, he couldn't honestly think that… Could he?

Hermione turned around to see James approaching Sirius. James held up a hand for a high five, but Sirius just shrugged and passed him. James looked confused until his eyes passed over to Hermione. With question marks in his eyes, he approached her.

"What just happened?"

"I-I honestly don't know." James put an arm around Hermione's shoulders.

"You okay, Granger?" Looking up at James as the weight of his presence sank into her bones, Hermione's emotions took a complete 180. The thrums of anger diverted into waves of sadness and distress. Hermione moved to the wall and slid down to the floor. James stood over her, unsure of what to do.

Hermione's breathing was shallow and her mind was running. She saw that rope in her mind, and it was falling apart. Tears pooled in her eyes.

"Whoa, whoa, Hermione, are you okay? What happened?"

"I. Can't. Believe. Him." Each word was punctuated by a sharp inhale.

"Who? Sirius?"

"Remus."

"Wait, what?" Tears were falling faster now down her cheeks and dripping from her chin. James looked around the hallway, which was mainly empty thanks to it being dinner time. Hermione was staring at her hands. "Hermione, what did Remus do?"

"I can't believe he did this alone. I can't believe he's done this for so long, all alone. I can't believe he survived this." James backed up a bit, staring at Hermione.

"Hermione, what are you talking about." Hermione kept talking, unable to stop the words coming out of her mouth.

"No one understands him. He was so young, so, so young. And alone, for so many years, oh my god."

James was starting to panic. Hermione was crying and talking and her words were getting muddled in her breathing. James looked around. He noticed her books forgotten on the floor. He picked up one in particular and dropped it as if it were on fire.

"Hermione, look at me." She raised her head to look Harry's father in the eyes. Light streaming in from the window glinted off the shiny title letters of the book James had just held. Lycanthropy: The Beast and Being.

"What do you know?"

When Hermione spoke, the full weight of her word was lost on James.

"Everything."

A/N: *Of the Same Kinds, Class, or Nature