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 Marauder's Era with four new best friends.

Chapter 62: Familia Supra Omnia*

3 August 1978

The Daily Prophet

MURDED MINISTRY MEMBER FOUND WITH FELLED FIANCE

By: BENNET BURDELL

Aurors descended upon the home of Ministry employee Montgomery Ledlow in the late hours of Wednesday evening. Ledlow lived with his fiancé in a Muggle suburb. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement was responding to a call from a concerned co-worker who had stopped by the home when Ledlow failed to show up for work.

…

St. Mungo's Hospital staff pronounced both Ledlow and his fiancé, a muggle, dead at the scene. According to the death certificates, Ledlow had been dead for several days before his body was found. Cause of death for Ledlow is reported to be the killing curse, and his fiancé is reported to have died from, among other gruesome injuries, extensive exposure to the cruciatus curse. Death Eaters are suspected to be involved in the killings.

…

Ledlow was a rising star within the Ministry's legal department. According to his supervisor, Aurora Ustinova, Ledlow was passionate about advocating for change within the Wizengamot.

…

While many lauded Ledlow's work as progressive, sources within the Ministry say there is a possibility that he was targeted for his pro-Muggle politics.

…

See page 7 for more details.

6 August 1978

Potter Manor

It had become an unspoken tradition amongst them, meeting every Sunday night for dinner.

Tonight, James and Lily hosted at Potter Manor. And it started off well, but there was a noticeable tension to James' shoulders as he sat beside his father at the head of the table. Charlus joined them, of course, as he usually did when they dined at the Manor. He laughed along and told stories and inquired about their lives. His eyes shone as he looked at the men his boys had become.

Sirius kept his own eyes focused on his dad. He watched the subtle shake in Charlus' hand as he lifted his goblet of wine. He noticed the fatigue hanging off the side of his eyes and the way his attention kept drifting to the portrait in the corner of the room. When Charlus stood finally to excuse himself for the evening, Sirius stood from his seat, giving the man the respect he deserved.

A look passed between the two, a look that few could understand. A look that could only be known by a son and his father who had found each other later in life and had consciously, fervently chosen to accept these roles. Charlus nodded at Sirius, smiled at the group, and left to retire.

"It's bloody bullshit and you all know it," James was saying. "I'm just the only one, apparently, will balls enough to admit it."

The conversation, like all conversations at this point in time, had turned to the war.

"Mate, what are we to do?" Remus looked up from his glass of whiskey. "We're in the Order now, which means we follow orders. What is it you think we should be doing?"

"Something!" James paced behind the couch where Hermione and Lily sat watching him. "And I don't mean just us. I'm not mental. I know it's not up to just us, but you'd think with all these attacks, we'd be doing something. Anything."

"But that's just it, isn't it?" Peter leaned forward to rest his forearms on his knees. "It's not just us in the Order. How are we to know that Dumbledore doesn't have people out fighting right now? I mean, he's probably got loads of plans that he'll never tell us. We're basically foot soldiers, too lowly for an invitation to the war room."

James slammed his drink back and shuffled his way over to the open bottle to pour some more.

"Jamie," Lily urged softly. "Let's wait on that a moment. Come sit with me."

James Potter looked back at his wife and moved to her side. Hermione stood from the couch to allow him space to join Lily. James slumped down in the seat and threw his head back to rest on the edge of the couch. Lily burrowed into his side, taking hold of his arm and running her fingers lightly through his hair.

"There will be a time, James Potter, when you will wish for these days of being able to throw complaints from the sidelines," Hermione spoke softly but surely. She walked across the room to sit on the floor beside Remus' chair. Her lips quirked up half-heartedly in a smile as Remus reflexively started to twist her curls around his fingers.

James only grunted in response.

"I'm quite serious, James," Hermione continued. "It's only going to get worse before it gets better. The Prophet's article? That probably doesn't even cover half of what actually happened to the poor man and his fiancé. This is war. People are going to die."

Hermione leaned against Remus, clenched her jaw and looked at the Potters before her.

"We can't save everyone."

12 August 1978

Potter Manor

A slight chill carried through the air as the first dashes of light spurred on the dawn. The home was quiet in its unassuming solemnity. Silence hung its weary head in respect as the inhabitants slept on through the night.

James reached out across the expanse of bedsheets for his wife, pulling her close to his chest as his mind wandered through dreams. Lily smiled in her sleep at the comforting weight of James at her back.

Charlus tossed and turned as his own dreams carried him through his waking worries. He dreamed of James and Sirius fighting off an impossible darkness while he watched from an inescapable distance. He dreamed of losing himself in a maze of towering hedges and vines like grasping fingers. He dreamed of Dorea calling his name from beyond a heavy fog.

And then as the slight chill drifted through the halls of the manor, Charlus' dreams shifted once more. The heavy air lifted to a warm spring day as he found himself standing on the bank of a river. The bank was steep and the river ran quickly over jagged rocks below, but it was all just so beautiful. The grass was green; birds chirped happily from the trees of the forest behind him. The sun shone warmly on his skin, and he felt light.

He was barefoot and in a basic set of trousers and shirt. He carried nothing but his wand. On his hands, just a simple wedding band. And on his shoulders, a familiar cloak he hadn't worn in many, many years.

He stood there on the bank of the river, eyes closed with his face turned toward the sun, and Charlus Potter started to cry.

He breathed in deep, taking in the warmth of the sun and the grass under his feet. He breathed in the cool air coming up from the river and the wind tousling through his hair.

And when he opened his eyes, he saw a bridge that led to the other side. He paused for just a moment to turn and look at the forest behind him. But he found he was no longer worried. He thought of his sons and the times of trouble and grief and joy and happiness they had yet to face, but he was not worried. He smiled as the last of his tears fell from his eyes, and he turned to the bridge and started to walk.

His steps were sure, his breaths were even, and where he did stumble, he felt a pressure like the hand of an old friend at his elbow helping him along. He slowed his gait as the bridge started to come to an end and the old wooden planks melted into the grass of the other side. He took another breath and stepped forward. A field of lavender opened before him. He took another breath and stepped forward. The sky was clear and the brightest blue he'd ever remembered seeing. He took another breath and stepped forward. A figure appeared from across the horizon, walking toward him.

Charlus' last breath was one of relief.

"Dorea."

13 August 1978

Potter Manor

Tonight, James and Lily hosted at Potter Manor. And it started off silent and solemn. There was a noticeable tension to James' shoulders as he hesitated before taking his place at the head of the table.

Sirius couldn't stop fidgeting. His hand shook slightly as he lifted his tumbler of whiskey. Fatigue clung to the corners of his eyes and his attention kept drifting from his brother, to the door, to the portrait in the corner of the room.

Every noise louder than a whisper echoed through the dining room. The harsh cut of knives against plates grinded out into the heavy silence. Hermione and Lily looked at each other from across the table.

A look passed between the two, a look that few could understand. A look that could only be known by those who choose to love others knowing at times it may feel an uphill battle, those who choose to love others not despite their flaws but including them.

15 August 1978

Black Pearl Ink, Muggle London

Sirius Black got his sixth tattoo alone. Though technically not alone as the artist he'd come to associate with the sting of tattoos hunched over his arm. He was an older grizzled man who came off as unusually intense and no nonsense, which was fine for Sirius. He preferred to sit in silence as he watched the ink settle under his skin. And this guy seemed to get it. After settling on the design, he'd sit down and say nothing as Sirius pulled out a bottle of firewhiskey. He'd usually end up pulling out a flask of his own. Then, he'd get to work, saying nothing as rock music drifted around the shop from the little black radio at the front desk. He'd finish up, look down proudly at his work, and nod but say nothing as Sirius left.

Sirius Black got his sixth tattoo alone, but he didn't want to be. He sat down in the familiar chair, held out his arm, and reached in his jacket for a small bottle of Ogden's, pulling the cork out with his teeth. He sucked in air tightly as he watched the letters etch across the blank space of his left forearm.

Fidelitas supra omnia.

18 August 1978

The Shelter

Hermione stood at the short stone wall at the edge of the property. A slight breeze shifted her hair from her shoulder. She breathed in the late summer air and let her lungs fill with an open calmness. She wanted to pace. Pup wanted to pace. But Hermione stood still against the waves of anxiety coming from the house at her back.

She'd left Remus to Peter and escaped to hold watch at the short stone wall. It was getting late, but she found she was not worried. They would make it. They would be there. They wouldn't miss this.

Not but a moment after the thoughts crossed her mind did two figures suddenly appear before her. They'd made it. Hermione threw her arms around James and Sirius, pulling them in close while she clenched her eyes shut. Arms encircled her, returning the embrace.

"Come on, Pup," Sirius' voice was hoarse. "We've got a moon to catch."

They walked back to the house in silence, Hermione desperately trying to find the right words. She hadn't seen either of them since Sunday's dinner and the funeral. Sirius had been staying at the Manor. It had been five days, and she had missed him.

There was so much she wanted to say, but nothing felt right. How are you? She wanted to ask. Have you been sleeping? You don't look like you've been sleeping. Your voice is hoarse. Have you been crying? Did you start smoking again? I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. Are you okay? Is he okay? How can I help? What can I do? What do you need?

Sirius slipped his hand in hers. She squeezed it tightly.

Merlin, it was magic. The five of them together.

Uncharacteristically, James transformed almost as soon as they'd left the house. Peter nodded at his friends before turning with a light pop and scampering along with the stag. Remus jogged along beside them before his bones protested too much. Hermione and Sirius walked behind them. Sirius shifted the whiskey towel to his other arm and took up Hermione's hand again.

"I'm glad you're home," she whispered against the violet sky, the darkness giving her a secret space to speak. "I've missed you."

"Me too," Sirius whispered back. There was more he wanted to say, but it wasn't the right time. Not yet.

"I know James can understand more than any of the rest of us, but I'm here—" Hermione's heart clenched as she spoke and she reflexively tightened her grip on Sirius. "—if there's anything you need."

"I—" Sirius stopped walking, sparing a glance ahead at their friends. He looked at Hermione and the night reflecting back at him from her eyes. It wasn't the right time. "I know, Pup. I know."

The group regathered. The moon rose. Twin howls filled the sky. They were together again under the light of the moon, and it was pure pack magic. They ran and they played and they chased and they sank to the depths of the moment of fleeting freedom. And when Lily Potter entered the cottage the next morning, arms laden with healing potions and baked goods, she stopped herself at the edge of the kitchen with tears in her eyes at the laughter that brightened the room.

A/N: *Family Over Everything