Hello hello lovelies!
I know it's been a few weeks, so sorry about that. I'm trying to stockpile chapters right now so when I'm super busy I'll still have chapters to post, so we'll how that goes!
I seriously cannot believe that the next chapter is the beginning of their seventh year, it's honestly so insane to me.
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Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, and only the story line and any OC's belong to me.
Friday, August 26th, 1977
Potter Manor
"Son, just take it," Charlus encouraged gently, pressing the white gold ring into Draco's hand for the second time. "I know you're both young still...but I thought I'd give it to you now since I have a feeling you'll need it in the future."
The ambiance in the Potter household had lifted significantly since Hermione emerged from her room, and thus the remainder of summer had slipped through their fingers. Sirius and Remus spent most of their time at their flat, in an attempt to give the Potters some breathing room as a family.
"This is Mum's engagement ring," Draco protested, grey eyes studying the way the emeralds caught the weak light that was filtering into the sun room; it was the crack of dawn and the horizon was a medley of blues, yellows and pinkish hues.
Draco had carefully untangled himself from Hermione and James (the three Potters had taken to sleeping in the same bed ever since Hermione rejoined them) and trekked downstairs. Draco had been meaning to sneak outside for a cheeky fag, but a light, sombre march of music had drawn him to the Sun room.
Charlus was standing facing the window, twirling the ring between his forefinger and thumb, and the light caught the glittering stone. The man's hair was still mussed from sleep, there were faint lines left on his cheek from his sheets, his navy blue nightclothes were creased and he had on a pair of black bedroom slippers.
When Draco saddled up next to his Father, the first thing the older wizard attempted to do was give him the ring; Draco had adamantly refused the first time, and now the ring was nestled in the palm of his hand. The band was warm from being in Charlus's grip, and Draco's jaw clenched as he stared at it.
Something so simple, so small, represented a sea of history, of memories, and of love. A clump of emotion clogged Draco's airway for a moment, so he harshly cleared his throat, and said, "Dad…are you sure?"
"Yes, Draco—"
"Why are you giving it to me, not James?" Draco asked, his voice cracking, his gaze still locked on the ring.
Charlus made an amused noise at the back of his throat, "when James was little…he used to knick his Grandmother—my Mother—, Genevieve's ring all the time. He liked to put it on, and he often practiced his proposal speech for his future wife as he imagined different scenarios in his head."
"So you're telling me that Jamie has always had a flair for the dramatics and mischief?" Draco asked with a snort.
"Yes," Charlus nodded, and placed a hand on Draco's shoulder. A more solemn expression ironed itself onto Charlus's face, "Mum would be so happy—knowing that one day you'll use it to propose to the person you love and wish to spend the rest of your life with."
"Dad—" Draco began to protest—meeting Charlus's eye—but the man interrupted him with a pointed look.
"Maybe I should give it to Hermione, so one day she can propose to you," Charlus teased good-naturedly.
Draco rolled his eyes and made a crude noise.
Charlus chuckled and ruffled his son's hair, "it's yours now, Draco..." Charlus trailed off for a moment, as if lost somewhere far away. With a jerky headshake he threw an arm around Draco's shoulders and said, "come on then. Let's go find some food."
Monday, August 29th, 1977
Potter Manor
"It feels so weird opening our letters so late," James commented as he fiddled with the shiny badge that had come inside of his envelope. The frown hadn't left his face from the moment he realised what it was.
The frown persisted as he withdrew the folded piece of parchment, and carefully perused the cursive, elegant penmanship.
"Fuck, this means we're going to have to go into…" Draco trailed off. No member of the Potter Brood had been into Diagon Alley since the incident that stole Dorea away from them; Draco didn't count his brief, inebriated stay at the Leaky. (They would have run low on supplies if not for Mipsy braving the cobblestone streets and the shops to obtain everything they needed.)
Hermione cleared her throat, fingering the silver chain around her neck. Despite her protestations, Charlus had bequeathed Dorea's necklace—that Hermione had in fact given her—to his daughter a couple days ago. "I don't think any of us need new robes, unless you boys have grown significantly this summer?"
Hermione threw the question out to the rest of the boys in the sun room, and they all made similar grunts and short comments in reply. Sirius moaned about how his pant legs were a smidge short, and would surely show his ankles, but Remus elbowed him harshly in the arm; swiftly silencing him.
"We can all go tomorrow," James suggested.
Reluctantly, the other four Marauders agreed.
Charlus had disappeared around midday, mentioning something about going to the Ministry to deal with 'a pesky little problem'. When asked what said problem was, the wizard merely smiled and waved over his shoulder on his way out the door.
Remus and Sirius had arrived around the same time as Charlus's departure—it was their first time back at the Manor in days—and the Marauders easily settled into the sun room.
Draco was sharing a loveseat with James, one of his legs thrown across James's lap, and his head was propped up in his hand—his elbow was digging into the loveseat's plush arm.
Sirius and Remus were seated on the loveseat opposite their friends, both peering at their own letters.
With all the turbulence and chaos that had transpired, their Hogwarts letters had been cast aside and forgotten when they arrived weeks ago; thusly, the wix had to scramble to purchase all of their books and school supplies before school started back in a few days.
Hermione was sat, cross-legged on the floor adjacent to the coffee table, her pale lavender skirts arranged carefully around her, with her dark curls cascading down her back and brushing the hardwoods.
There was still a heaviness that lay across the Marauders, filling every crevice of their lives. The quintet remained silent for an uncomfortably long time, blinking blankly at each other, and occasionally one of them would release a burdened sigh.
A sharp clap made them all flinch and snap their heads in Sirius's direction.
"Okay. That's enough moping around. I'm sick and tired of it. Mum and Missus Lupin wouldn't want this." Sirius gestured around at all of his friends for emphasis. "They would want us to continue to live our lives!"
"Pads," Draco said tiredly.
"No, Dray. I can't wallow in grief forever. It would be a dishonour to their memory," Sirius said, abruptly standing up, throwing his luscious dark hair over his shoulder, hands thrust into his trouser pockets, and grey eyes unwaveringly boring into Draco's.
The corner of Draco's lip turned up, "okay. What do you suggest we do then?"
"I have an idea or two," Sirius grinned crookedly, his head lolling backwards as a wave of easiness rolled across his body and loosened his stiff posture.
"Why do I not like the sound of that?" Remus asked, shaking his head, even though he was grinning brightly—all teeth—his canines proudly on display.
"You'll love it, Moony," Sirius glanced at his friend over his shoulder and winked.
Sirius's head swivelled between Hermione and James, "how about it Foxy? Prongs? You two in?"
James gently placed his letter and his badge down on the coffee table in front of him, "you know I am…I'm not Head Boy for a few more days, I figure I can still raise a little hell."
"Still don't know how you got that. We'll have to ask Minnie when we get back if they mistakenly sent it to you and not someone else," Sirius joked, and James pulled a face mocking his best mate as Draco lifted his leg off of James.
The boys all turned to Hermione with raised eyebrows. The witch laughed lightly and shrugged, "do I really have a choice?"
"You always have the illusion of one though," Sirius said playfully, and a scowl crumpled Hermione's features as she glared at him. "Joking, joking!" He would rather not get hexed today.
The look on Hermione's face was almost angelic as she beamed up at her boys, "I'm in! Let the mayhem begin!"
Which was how Hermione Potter found herself staring at Sirius Black's Triumph Bonneville T120.
Sirius's smile had only grown when he took in Hermione's expression as he pushed the motorcycle over to the other Marauders. Sirius kicked out the kickstand and stood in front of the sleek piece of machinery with his arms folded over his chest.
"Want a ride, Vixen?"
"I thought I told you I was never getting on that," Hermione said with a wry quirk of her lips, smoothing down the front of her knee-length skirt.
"You also said you don't bite…which we both know isn't true," Sirius said with an audacious wink. The comment came out of nowhere, and Hermione couldn't help the flush that flooded its way onto her cheeks.
"Oi! You have a witch, stop flirting with my sister," James scolded, looking mildly irritated as he took a step towards Sirius.
Sirius raised an eyebrow, an aloof, arrogant smile on his face, "I don't see Foxy over here objecting. Besides, Hermione knows I don't mean anything by it."
"Would you have said it if Riley was here?" Remus asked innocently, head tipped to the greyish sky, a hand running through his sandy blond locks.
"Why not?" Sirius asked with a tilt of his head. "Riley knows how I feel about her, and that she's the only girl for me."
"Does that mean you've forgotten about me and the special times we shared?" Draco asked with a faux pout and a hand delicately touching his left cheek.
Sirius's short, signature bark of a laugh erupted from him, and he cheekily replied with, "I could never forget you, Paws."
Hermione briefly stole a glance at Draco—a touch surprised that there was no jealousy or even a hint of possessiveness present on his features; the wizard was languidly standing beside Remus. Hermione accidentally met Remus's eye, and smiled warmly at him when he quirked a brow at her.
Hermione addressed Sirius with firm determination, "fine. I'll get on the back of your death machine."
Hermione sauntered over to Sirius, and stopped with inches separating them.
"You ready?" Sirius challenged lowly, and Hermione felt the streams of flame rushing through her veins, the daring and reckless side of her surging to the surface.
"The real question is, are you?" Hermione shot back.
Her bravado remained intact until she was settled in behind Sirius on the motorcycle as the metal beast roared to life. Hermione's arms wrapped tightly around Sirius's waist.
"You good?" Sirius called over his shoulder.
"Yupp!"
Sirius's joy seeped into her as they took off, and it wasn't long before the wind was whipping through her hair—its sharpness stung her eyes. It made her feel alive again. The wind whispered its secrets in her ears as they did rode in circles on the front lawn—Sirius was vibrating with manic glee—and practically sailed through the air.
The wind's sweet words kindled warmth in her chest, and for the first time in almost a month, the hole in Hermione Potter's chest didn't seem nearly as colossal.