Happy Monday!

It may be the wee hours of the morning, but I really wanted to post this chapter. It's insane to think that I've been planning this moment for the longest time and now it's here. I truly hope you all enjoy it. I will also apologise in advance if I don't post for a while, again, life is still hectic. I will try, but no promises :(

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Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and only the story line and any OC's belong to me.

For sherbertlemons98, thank you for your amazing reviews darling xxx


They had passed the point of no return. Draco heaved out a troubled sigh, the air whistling through his nostrils.

Draco gazed at Hermione's worried side profile for a long moment, and an itch along his ribcage made itself abundantly clear. Draco ran his knuckles lightly across the scruff on his cheek and reluctantly faced their companions.

"What's going on?" Remus asked. "The note you left us was more than a little vague."

Draco's chest constricted, and sound struggled past his lips as he said, "follow us."

Draco's eyes fluttered shut, and his pulse jumped when Hermione shifted beside him. He pictured large windows, stone walls, an empty room, a baby blue rectangular rug that covered most of the medium sized room. The rug was soft, he could feel the texture across his fingertips. He pictured a safe place to divulge their secrets.

Draco opened his eyes, and avoiding meeting anyone's gaze as he turned to look at the unassuming, oak door in front of him.

"This isn't cryptic as fuck," Sirius mumbled, some of his dark hair falling forward out his bun into his eyes.

Draco pushed open the door and strolled inside, chin high, something thick and gooey was coating his airway, keeping it shut. He cleared his throat in an attempt to dislodge it, but he couldn't quite catch his breath.

How did one begin to confess a secret of this magnitude, to reveal that you have been lying to them for the better part of the last six years.

The door clicked shut behind them.

Draco tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling, focusing on one spot until his vision blurred.

Hermione's voice trembled as she said, "we're sorry."

"Did you murder someone?" Sirius asked bluntly.

"Sirius," Remus said, pinching the bridge of his nose as a sigh huffed out of him.

Sirius's eyes widened and he gestured absently, "what else would there be all this bloody cloak and dagger for?"

Draco's eyes wedged shut, he folded his arms over his chest and his fingers dug into the flesh of his opposite arms as he tried to breathe.

"We…"

"Wait…Mione, are you—" James started. In hindsight they probably should have warned him that they were going to do this.

"Yes," Hermione exhaled sharply. She backed up until she was right beside Draco. The warmth from her body reached out to him, stroking the right side of his body tenderly.

How was she talking right now? How did she have it in her to string together sounds much less words?

Draco's eyes pried open, the light breached its way through and scalded his corneas for a brief moment. He tried to clear his throat, but the muscles constricted instead and cut off his airflow.

Draco hesitantly faced the others. They all had varied levels of confusion marring their features.

Hermione's voice caressed his ears, and Draco watched as their expressions all morphed, contorted, changed. Remus looked the most calm. James had sidestepped a significant distance away from Remus and Sirius, arms crossed over his chest, his lips pressed in a thin line; he was carefully observing the pair.

All the preparation in the world couldn't have braced them for the moment when they finally told the truth. The light and trust flickered in Remus and Sirius's eyes. Draco's ears were buzzing. James's hands dropped to his sides and he shifted uncomfortably from side-to-side.

"What?" Sirius asked, and abruptly the world cruelly came back into focus. Hermione's breathing was ragged, and her small hand sought out his. Draco threaded their fingers together, and the witch anchored him to this plane; he feared he would drift away without her.

"We're not twins…" Hermione repeated.

Draco at last located his voice, "we're not Potters—not by blood anyway…we were adopted when we were eleven."

Hermione released her hold on him and flew over to James and flung herself into his arms as if seeking validation in his embrace. Hermione burrowed into James. He rested his chin on her head and held her tightly, quietly reassuring her.

Ice slipped into Draco's veins at the crumpled, guarded expression on Sirius's face and the painfully blank one on Remus's.

"Hermione is not my sister, but James is our brother in every way, but, blood," Draco said. He wasn't sure what else he should say.

"What's your real name then?" Sirius asked, tone dark, stance defensive as he took a step back.

"Draco."

"Draco what?" Sirius growled, his hands balled into fists, his canines now bared.

"I can't tell you that," Draco replied.

"The fuck you can't!" Sirius shouted, his voice reverberating through the space, harshly leaping off the walls and slamming into Draco's eardrums. Draco winced. The air was charged with magic.

"I can't—"

The ground split open in front of him, the stone parting in a jagged line like a bolt of lightning and the sound rang in Draco's ears.

Draco's gaze dropped to the crack, and the room calmly knitted itself back together, the stone repairing itself in moments.

When Draco's eyes flicked upwards again, Sirius's hair was whipping around his head with sparks flying from the ends.

"Who the fuck are you?" Sirius hissed.

"Draco Potter," Draco said quietly, feeling defeated. This was far worse than anything he'd envisioned. A hole was being carved out of his chest with a blunt object.

"We made an Unbreakable Vow!" Hermione erupted, parting from James to stand toe-to-toe with Sirius. The raven haired wizard glowered down at the witch with the fury of a vicious dragon.

"What?!" Draco heard through a thick haze. Something triggered inside of him, and his body kicked into action before he realised what was happening; Draco's bond with Hermione burned his insides, urging him forth.

Draco swiftly crossed the room, and protectively pushed Hermione behind him. She made a short noise in surprise and protest.

Sirius's brow furrowed, and some of the anger melted away. Grey eyes bored into grey. Icy grey glinting with silver battled dark grey speckled with midnight blue.

"Calm the fuck down, Pads," Draco snarled.

Sirius's eyes widened, "wait…"

"You—you have a bond. Not like anything I've ever felt before, but almost like Sirius and Riley's…" Remus said softly, and Draco's glanced at him in his peripherals. Shock punctuated Remus's features.

Sirius narrowed his eyes, "oh this is brilliant. You aren't siblings and you're fucking too?"

Draco gruffly grabbed fistfuls of Sirius's band tee. The two of them were so close that Draco's nose brushed Sirius's and their breath mingled together.

"Draco! They're in shock!" James exclaimed on Draco's left, but he paid his brother no mind.

"I told you this was a bad idea, Hermione," Draco ground out, and the ire in Sirius's eyes pushed him to continue, "Mum was fucking wrong too."

Draco shoved Sirius backwards with a sneer.

"What did you just say?" Sirius demanded with a nasty glare, smoothing down the front of his shirt.

"You heard me."

"Draco," Hermione pleaded.

"No, Hermione!" Draco whirled on her. The witch's bottom lip was trembling, her whole body was quivering, but her feet were planted firmly on the ground and the defiant power in her gaze was staggering.

Hermione lightly swatted at him, "Mum thought we should tell them!"

"It doesn't mean it wasn't a dreadful idea! Look where we are now!"

Hermione began to pound at his chest, and with a heavy sigh he caught her wrists. She sagged into him and he pulled her into a tight embrace.

"We're sorry," Hermione sobbed, her body shaking violently.

"When we were eleven, Mum and Dad adopted Hermione and Draco, so even though they are my siblings, they don't consider each other siblings." James said weakly, trying to explain, trying to get them to understand.

"You knew about this and didn't say a word," Sirius yelled accusingly.

"I only found out last year, but thinking back it made sense—"

"A whole year, James?!" Sirius practically shrieked, his voice taking on a shrill, ear-splitting quality.

Tiredly, Remus stepped in between the boys, and interjected, "there must have been a reason, Pads."

"How can you be so calm about this?" Sirius asked.

"I'm not. I'm furious," Remus bit out, his hurt slicing deep gashes across Draco's back. Draco held his breath. "But, I know that there must be a good reason why they are only now telling us."

"It felt like the time was right," Draco whispered.

"Plus we didn't know if the stupid Unbreakable Vow would kill us," Hermione sniffled.

"You want to expound on this Unbreakable Vow business." Sirius pressed, his tone a little less severe.

"I'd like to stay alive, so, no," Draco said.

"It prevents us from talking about our past before we lived with the Potters," Hermione supplied. It wasn't a lie, but of course it wasn't the whole truth.

In spite of how dreadful he felt, Hermione had been right; this was a disaster of epic proportions, but a weight had been removed from his shoulders. There was now one less lie he had to worry about around the werewolf and animagus.

"I need a minute," Sirius heaved out, tying his fingers together behind his head. He began to pace.

"You can't tell anyone," James said sternly, stepping into Sirius's path. Sirius halted abruptly and flinched when James dropped a hand onto his shoulder.

Sirius snorted, "really?! Funny, the first thing I was planning on doing was informing the entire bloody Great Hall that Draco and Hermione Potter aren't who they fucking say they are."

Draco dropped a soft kiss to Hermione's forehead and relinquished his hold on her.

Cautiously he turned to Sirius, who was staring at him as if he was a stranger. Sirius shrugged James off and took a step in Draco's direction.

"So everything was a lie. That you were Galieus Potter's twin children that he left behind when he and his wife died tragically. All of it. Lies.

"I don't have to listen to this," Draco said with a short, breathy laugh.

"Forgive me for not being fucking fine and dandy with this!" Sirius threw his arms out to the sides, looking at all of them in turn.

"Padfoot!" James raised his voice, jaw tight, a warning flashing in his eyes. Sirius met his gaze evenly, something indiscernible shone in his eyes.

"Fuck this," Sirius said under his breath, shaking his head as he turned and stormed towards the exit.

"Sirius!" James called after him, but that didn't stop the animagus. Within the blink of an eye, he'd reached the door and he angrily flung it open.

"Sirius!" James tried again, but to no avail. Sirius didn't even look back as he exited the room.

James glanced back at Draco, who nodded curtly. James broke out into a run and chased after his best mate.

The door gently clicked shut behind him, and a peculiar silence filled the room.

"So the tattoo on your back is for Draco then?" Remus broke the silence. Draco's eyebrows rose as he regarded Remus. The werewolf's posture was tense, his hands shoved in his pockets, his head slightly bowed.

"I—Well…yes," Hermione said, her body lurching forward sharply as if she was going to take a step towards Remus, but she jumped back and wrapped her arms around herself.

Remus's jaw worked as he mulled that over in his mind. He nodded slowly. His head rose and his eyes darted between them. "How did it start?" Remus asked.

Draco snorted. What a question. "I don't know," Draco answered honestly. "You could say in some way or another I've been in love with Hermione for years."

Hermione peered up at him, one of her hands slithering across her body until it lightly grasped the side of her neck. "I—I had feelings for Draco way longer than I care to admit, but—" Hermione's eyes rounded and she took several steps in Remus's direction before faltering once more. "I loved you, Remus. I did. All of it was real, and I just…I loved you." Hermione was crying now, Draco could see her side profile, and the tears flowing freely down her flushed cheeks. Remus's eyes widened.

"Hermione—" Remus started.

She shook her head violently, and stammered out, "I still love you, Remus. I always will, but not…I love Draco—" She hiccoughed and cut herself off. They all understood what she meant, there were no romantic nuances behind her words. She was hinting at the solid, unbreakable kind of love shared between the closest of friends and family.

"You love him more," Remus smiled sadly, closing the distance between them and pulling her to his chest. Relief oozed off of Hermione in droves and she unwound her arms from her person and slid them around Remus and clung onto him for dear life. Remus shushed her, his hand running down her hair. The pair rocked back and forth.

Remus looked over her head at Draco. The wizard stiffened in response, awaiting a sea of malice in the hazel eyes, but instead he found nothing but a serene sort of sadness. One look communicated an ocean of words that one could never hope to be expressed adequately aloud.

"Anything you want to add, Draco?" Remus asked with what could be misconstrued as a teasing lilt. Hermione sniffed loudly.

"I love Hermione," Draco shrugged, "and she'll always belong to you in some way…but, so will I."

Remus quirked a brow.

"We're pack, Remus. We're family, we're—you are ours." Draco frowned, a possessive tone sticking to his words.

"He's right, you are our Remus," Hermione nodded, rubbing her forehead against Remus's chest.

Remus grinned brightly, his canines showing, "Draco Potter…are you propositioning me?"

Hermione choked on a laugh and she shoved Remus away from her, swatting him affectionately as she shot him a watery smile. "You are ridiculous."

Any lingering tension melted from the room just like that, and one would never have guessed that the ground had cracked open like an egg mere minutes ago.

Draco rolled his eyes, strolled over to the pair, and he pulled them both in for a hug, "way to ruin the moment, Moony."

"If I'd wasted such a beautiful opportunity, I would never forgive myself," Remus replied. The smile on his face faded, and in a more grave tone he said, "from now on, can we agree to have no more secrets, please?"

"I will tell you everything I physically can, without killing myself," Draco swore.

"There are some things that no matter how much we wish we could tell you, we simply can't," Hermione added sadly.

"I guess that's all I can really ask for," Remus sighed. The trio untangled themselves, but they were all still inordinately close to each other. "I just thought of something…why wasn't Pete here?"

Hermione's features darkened, and sorrow tugged at her bottom lip, "he isn't pack." It was an impossible thing to care so deeply for someone, but to hate what they would become in the future so vehemently.

Remus must have seen something in Hermione's eyes that stopped him from pressing further, so he instead he cleared his throat and asked, "now what?"

Draco unthinkingly reeled something off in flawless french. He didn't realise he said anything strange until he caught sight of Hermione's gaping mouth.

"You know how to speak French?"

Usually he had a good grasp of what language he was speaking and when, but on the rare occasion he would slip between languages without noticing. "Ah. Yeah…you know that I learnt several languages growing up," Draco smirked. "Plus it would be inconvenient whilst visiting the chateau in Nice if I didn't have at least a rudimentary grasp of the language." There was a prickly, stinging sensation that danced across the palm of his left hand and crept along his forearm until it died somewhere in the crook of his arm.

Draco hissed and peeked down. He swore internally as it dawned upon him that he was talking about the Malfoy's chateau in France. Stupid vow, Draco groaned mentally.

"You have a chateau?" Remus asked, brow furrowed.

Draco smiled weakly, "long story."

Hermione's arms were crossed over her chest, and she was pouting.

"What?" Draco asked.

"I don't speak French," She answered.

"And?"

"I have a very basic grasp of it, but not enough to even guess what just flew out of your mouth," Hermione sulked.

She was adorable, and he had the sudden urge to kiss her. So he did. When he pulled away he bumped his nose against hers and murmured, "you're kind of cute sometimes, did you know that?"

"Wanker," Hermione scowled, wiping away the remnants of her tears from earlier.

"That was fucking weird," Remus whistled. Hermione and Draco started—they'd both forgotten that they weren't alone.

"Sorry," Hermione and Draco chorused.

"It's…fine. It's just going to take some getting used to is all," Remus's nose scrunched up in thought as he rubbed at his nape.

"You know, for some reason I thought you were secretly dating Smith," Remus confessed after a comfortable lull in the conversation. Draco growled lowly in his throat, and Hermione shot him an exasperated look.

Remus's eyes widened, "wait, is that why we pulled that prank on the Ravenclaws the other day? Not to mention why you've been so furious with Smith lately. It's because he's constantly flirting with Hermione."

"At this point it's a bit petulant—" Hermione poked Draco in the arm, "—but admittedly not completely unwarranted…Draco may have caught me snogging Smith once."

Remus's jaw dropped, he'd clearly assumed that had just been a rumour as Hermione had neither confirmed or denied Smith's claim. (Lily hadn't breathed a word about it to a soul.)

"Don't remind me. Mainly I don't like him because he's a smug git," Draco snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. "When you were dating Remus I came to terms with that because I like Remus, and like I said before, he's ours. Smith is a different story."

"You do know he isn't evil incarnate," Hermione said, her mouth twisting to the side.

"Love, I agree with Draco. Smith is just pure trouble, whether he intends to be or not," Remus said, his hands slipping back into his pockets. Draco sent her a knowing look, but the witch ignored him.

"Well I think he got the hint because he hasn't tried anything recently," Hermione said in defense of Smith.

"Finally. It's about time he got it through that dense skull of his that you aren't interested," Draco said.

Hermione pursed her lips, and mumbled, "you're bloody impossible."

The trio exchanged a few more words here and there, but at some point they found themselves strewn in a circle, sat on the soft blue rug that Draco had envisioned. Hermione's head was in Draco's lap and her feet were resting on Remus's upper left thigh.

"Don't worry…about Padfoot. He'll come around," Remus said eventually.

Draco ran a finger over the baby hairs at Hermione's hairline, working his jaw as he nodded dumbly.

"I really hope you're right about that, Moon," Draco said, his finger tracing a path down the bridge of Hermione's nose all the way to the base of her chin.

"He will…" Hermione tried, but the words were a wispy thing that evaporated into the air. Remus patted one of her shins. Hermione smiled wanly at him.

With that the wix passed the afternoon lazily: Remus asked small questions here and there about their relationship. Daylight slipped away into night as they shared a few stories.

Hermione's stomach growled and that was their signal to leave. They all agreed to go and raid the kitchens for some sustenance.

They had barely entered the kitchen before the House Elves began flitting about: they set one of the small, square tables in the corner of the kitchen, made sure they were all seated comfortably, and then graciously plopped three bowls of beef stew in front of them with buttered rolls.

Hermione unthinkingly tore off a piece of her roll and held it in Remus's direction. The werewolf quietly took it, dipped it in his stew, and raised the roll smothered in decadent gravy to his mouth, blowing on it for a moment before he popped it into his mouth. Steam curled off of their bowls, twisting in the air.

It could have gone worse, Draco allowed himself to think. Draco wished Sirius hadn't flown off the handle as much as he did, but now that he had some distance and perspective, he understood Sirius's anger and frustration.

At least it wasn't a complete clusterfuck, Draco thought, a smile tugging at his lips as he watched Remus bop Hermione on the nose. The witch playfully scowled, blowing on her raised spoonful of stew.

Draco gazed down his bowl, languidly stirring his stew with his spoon in a half-hearted attempt to make it cool faster.

"Don't worry about Sirius, Dray," Remus said reticently. Draco's eyes flicked up to land on his friend's. "Just give him some time…"

Draco nodded. "It was terrifying telling you both the truth…I just really didn't want you to hate us for keeping things from you for so long," Draco confessed.

Remus reached across the table and placed his hand on top of Draco's—the one casually resting on the table—and earnestly said, "we could never hate you. Never."

A flash of what was to come flooded Draco's mind, and whilst he externally gave Remus a feeble smile, inwardly his soul shrivelled and cried out. Remus's reassurances were a relief and a grave injury all at once. He had no idea what the future held, and the trust once more shining in his eyes stung Draco's heart.

"I'm sorry," Draco said, flipping his hand so he was gripping Remus's. He tried to communicate the deep sorrow that had befallen him, but Remus just nodded with a warm smile. Remus squeezed his hand tight once before letting go. He happily returned to his food.

Not for the first time, Draco wished that they had thrown caution to the wind and gone after the horcruxes from the moment that they arrived in the past. He wished he could save the ones he loved.

A lightning scar, hazel eyes, raven hair that stuck up in the back just like his Father's. Harry. They were ensuring a future where they defeated the Dark Lord; where there was a possibility for peace and prosperity for generations to come.

I hope you feel that way in the future, mate, Draco thought, dutifully tucking into his food. It had cooled down significantly, but it was still warm. I really do.


Soft snores came from the warm body wrapped around him. The witch rubbed her cheek against his bare chest in her sleep, her hair falling forward into her face. Gently he tucked it behind her ear.

A blanket of inky darkness had stolen away the day, there was a crispness to the breeze that whistled through the open window across from the bed that played with the sheer curtains.

Sirius Black laid awake, tormented by the return of all of his memories. Some details were still slightly fuzzy, but if he thought about it hard enough they cemented themselves in his mind.

There was a reel of memories flipping through in his head, and yet he found difficulty in lingering on anything in particular for long.

Sirius closed his eyes and focused on Riley's breathing, he allowed himself to sink into the bed, all in an attempt to order his thoughts.

Little things stuck out in his mind now: moments, glances, unspoken communication that hadn't meant anything major at the time, but now spoke volumes.

Clarity. It was bittersweet having full access to his adolescence, without black spots, or blurry images, or uncertainty.

Hermione and Draco had known he would run away from home at sixteen, and they must have known about his attempt to lure Snape into the Whomping Willow. Sirius hissed under his breath, his eyes flying open. That had been beyond foolish and it could have ended far worse than it did.

I suppose they didn't know exactly when everything was going to happen, Sirius thought pensively. Riley shifted in her sleep, and the man tucked his chin in and gazed down at her face. She was a peaceful vision.

Sirius laid his head back again, and stared at the ceiling. Riley had painted clusters of stars across the surface that glittered in the darkness.

Every now and then a flare of anger would burn a hole in his chest, and ire would claw at his throat when he remembered that Hermione and Draco hadn't changed anything. They'd known about not one but both of the Wizarding Wars, about the horcruxes, his delightful stay in Azkaban, and about the fate of James and Lily. Yet, they did nothing.

James. Out of everyone Sirius had lost, it was James's absence that always left him deeply bereft. He and James were puzzle pieces that just fit together. James Potter was his brother, his best friend and the person he trusted most in the world. He would have gladly traded his life for James's survival, but he knew that that wasn't what James would have wanted. Not at all.

The fact that he had survived and James hadn't infuriated him at times; if anyone deserved to grow old and live a prosperous life, it was James Potter. Sirius wished with such desperation that Lily and James had lived, that they had watched Harry grow up, that they had had a herd of children, and that they'd been able to live.

There was no one left alive that was responsible for their death that he could throw his ire at.

Sirius sighed heavily, and pushed any notions of anger away; in spite of everything, he'd already forgiven Draco and Hermione (they were in no way to blame for any of this). It must have been an inordinate burden on their shoulders; having full knowledge of the things to come but the inability to save the ones they loved and cared about.

The past was set in stone, and whilst he was going to demand some answers when they got back, he found that he just missed them.

Hermione's laugh, Draco's snark and warm hugs. The look Hermione got in her eye when a spark of mischief hit her. The way Draco constantly messed with his hair, and how he refused to let his fingernails grow out too long. Sirius just missed them.

Sirius's mind drifted lazily down the river of thought until it reached a sharp bend. Harry and Ron. Sirius dragged a hand—the one not resting on Riley's waist—down his face. Remus and I can tell them a million stories, but…it won't prepare them for coming face-to-face with Hermione and Draco.

A whiff of mint and vanilla tickled his nostrils, but it faded as quickly as it had come. At that moment, Riley's fingers resting on his torso curled against him as her thigh hiked higher on his body, and Sirius was drawn away from his thoughts.

In an odd turn of events, Ron had written Sirius and asked if at some point he would tell him more about Draco Potter.

I figure if he's going to be a part of my life, I should know more about him. I want to try and understand the Draco that you and Remus grew up with. I want to give him a chance. Ron had written.

Harry on the other hand had more reservations, and Sirius noted that he was cautious whenever he mentioned Draco, but was all too eager to hear Sirius and Remus regale tales about Hermione and his parents.

It wasn't surprising: Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter had been enemies for years, the animosity and vitriol was still fresh in Harry's mind, all of their past transgressions could not be washed away with a handful of stories.

Draco was an enigma, one that you could never solve for parts of him were always hidden away, ever elusive. Draco would always go and spend some time with Peter on Valentine's Day because he didn't want him to feel left out, Sirius recalled. He permitted himself to travel down a tricky train of thought. If we'd all paid more attention to Peter, included him more, maybe when we forgot about Draco and Hermione, he wouldn't have—

Sirius clenched his jaw, dismissing the thought. No. Peter hadn't been pack, but he'd been family; they'd shared a familial bond. Peter was wholly at fault for his betrayal, nothing they did could have changed that.

Sirius's memories and thoughts had drained him to the point of exhaustion, and he found himself holding onto consciousness by a delicate thread. The thread hastily unravelled, and neatly popped. Sirius Black slipped into a heavy, seamless sleep; an all too welcome reprieve from his inner turmoil.