A/N: So hi, good news! I think I can afford frequent updates for the next few weeks (maybe two-three weeks) but I'm not going to set a legit schedule because surely I won't even adhere to it ahahaha. But holy moly the number of reviews I've been getting! Why are you still reading this? Why aren't y'all disappointed yet? Ahahahahah but really thank you!
Special thanks to my lovely Beta, lozipozivanillabean! She never runs out of kind words to assure me I've been doing well (SO FAR lmao).
As promised, this will be set during Hermione's summer. Enjoy!
xii.
the sunlight shines a little brighter
(Daughter by Sleeping at Last)
August 8, 1976
"Hermione, come on!" Peter's annoyed voice called outside her bedroom.
"I'm coming, blimey!" she exclaimed in return. Hermione finally gave her wand a mighty swish and all her things – books, clothes, parchments, and quills – flew into her small satchel and arranged themselves neatly. Satisfied with her handiwork, Hermione grabbed onto her bag and slung the strap across her shoulders.
When she walked out of her bedroom, Peter was already impatiently bouncing on his heels.
"Girls take a bloody long time to get ready," he whined, then turned on his heel and eagerly went to their fireplace.
Hermione rolled her eyes at his back and slowly pattered behind her brother. Peter was already half-way in getting a pinch of Floo powder from the small pouch beside their fireplace, when she arrived in their living room. Anya surprised her children when she announced she had decided to connect their fireplace to the Floo Network. "It makes travelling terribly easy," their mother had explained. Ever since they had started going to Hogwarts, their mother ventured frequently into the Wizarding World. Peter and Hermione were happy that Anya was starting to enjoy all wizarding things once more.
"I don't even know why I have to come," she glumly pointed out.
"No one's stopping you from ditching, 'Mione. We can always tell Mum you felt sick or something."
She glanced at him like he was barmy. "And face our mother's ire?" she asked. Peter snorted and threw the magical powder into the unlit fireplace. Emerald fire blazed upward and Peter quickly stood inside. "Potter Manor!" he exclaimed. He was gone in an instant and Hermione sighed, wondering why he was so bloody excited to see his friends when they see each other every day back in Hogwarts.
Hermione hesitated, wondering if tagging along was a good idea. She was already perfectly contented to stay at home with her mother for the whole summer, but when Anya had found out that Peter would be spending a week at the Potter Manor, she suggested for Hermione to go along as well. Anya knew Hermione had grown considerably close to the Marauders after tutoring them during their OWLs year, and reckoned her daughter should spend a few days out of their house. Besides, she was an acquaintance of Euphemia Potter and knew Hermione would be properly taken care of.
Staying behind was tempting, but Hermione was admittedly curious how Potter Manor looked. She'd always wondered why James Potter lived in a humble house in Godric's Hollow with his family, when he was a rich Pureblood heir. A Manor made sense, and she wanted to see if Peter's shoddy description of the Manor was as he'd portrayed. Her stay at the Manor would also coincide with the last day of keeping the Mandrake leaf inside her mouth. At least with the Marauders gathered in one house, they'd be able to help her complete her Animagus transformation.
Hermione expelled a deep sigh, knowing full well her curiosity had already won. She grabbed a pinch of Floo powder, threw it into the fireplace, and stepped inside. "Potter Manor!" she exclaimed. The familiar disorienting travel via the Floo Network flashed before her eyes. Hermione tightly clamped her mouth and barely breathed to stop herself from inhaling a lungful of soot.
The journey had ended in an instant. Hermione's eyes adjusted at the sudden onslaught of bright lights and she wobbly stumbled out of the fireplace to behold a brightly lit foyer. Her eyes widened as she spied two stylish maroon couches near the brick wall fireplace. The floor was covered with thick carpets with intricate designs, of which Hermione vowed to observe later, because she swore they were twinkling. The whole room was spacious, almost rivalling the Ravenclaw Common Room, only this time, the foyer was decorated with maroon and gold. The occupants were definitely Gryffindors.
Hermione spied some various statues and armour, all speaking of a different place and a different time, and despite the clashing cultures of the diverse statues, they all blended elegantly. There was also a handsome grandfather clock standing beside the maroon divans, the golden pendulum looking polished and very new. Near the grand, marble staircase hung a painting of a lovely town, with a huge, formidable Manor standing proudly at the epicentre.
"You're gaping," Peter pointed out with a snicker.
The brunette's jaw instantly shut close and she blushed. "It's… huge," she lamely replied, clearly still at a loss of what to say.
"The Potters are old money," Peter said with a casual shrug. "What did you expect?"
"I didn't realise—" She swallowed down her words, her heart clenching unexpectedly at the thought of her raven-haired, emerald-eyed best friend.
Harry Potter could have lived in this huge Manor, with a lovely foyer, and most likely other beautiful rooms she had yet to explore. But of course, of course, Voldemort just had to ruin his whole life.
Hasty footsteps from the marble staircase caught their attention and they watched as three excited boys bounded down.
"I knew I heard your stupid voice, Wormta— oh."
James abruptly skidded into a halt. Sirius almost crashed against his back and would have, if Remus hadn't latched onto his wrist to keep him from lurching forward. All their eyes were now on Hermione and the brunette unwittingly blushed.
"Err, I'm sorry I should have Owled beforehand," Peter said with a sheepish smile. "But Mum suddenly told us she'd be spending a few days with her new boyfriend's family and insisted I bring Hermione along. I hope you don't mind?"
The Potter heir awkwardly rubbed the nape of his neck. "I guess," he said, followed by a half-hearted shrug. "I'm sure Mum and Dad won't mind either."
"I won't be a bother," Hermione promised, prompting Sirius to snort loudly.
"I highly doubt that, kitten," he cheekily pointed out. She threw him a light glare, but Sirius merely grinned in return. He then stepped forward and gave a flourished bow. "Welcome to Potter Manor, Monsieur and Mademoiselle. I'm Sirius Potter and I will be your tour guide for today."
"What?" Peter sputtered out, a bubble of laughter escaping from his lips.
James shoved Sirius away and laughed. "Wanker," he said. He grinned at the stunned expression on the siblings' faces. "You see, Sirius ran away from home—"
"—best damn thing I've ever done in my whole damn life—"
"—and, he's currently crashing with us," James continued. "Basically, we kind of adopted him, but if you want to be technical, he couldn't really be a Potter."
"Some bureaucratic shite," Sirius flippantly said, waving his hand dismissively. "It doesn't matter if I get stuck with this vile last name all my life, just as long as I escaped those fools."
Remus pursed his lips very tightly. "They're still your family," he reminded.
Sirius's eyes dangerously flashed. "They're no family of mine," he harshly shot back. He threw an arm over James's shoulders and pulled him possessively towards himself. "This is my family."
"All right, all right, Merlin," James said with a tired sigh. Judging from their expressions, Hermione hazarded this wasn't the first time they'd fought about this. "Anyway, we've got some tea in the Drawing Room. Fancy some?"
Hermione politely nodded her head while Peter quipped a small 'yes'.
"Brilliant," he said with a toothy grin. "Pokey!"
A small house-elf, perhaps even younger than Dobby, appeared beside James. She was wearing a ridiculous ensemble of a pink dress with a black bowtie and cute yellow kitten heels with silk, ribbon-like straps that wound up to her thighs. To complete her outfit, she was sporting a small black hat on top of her wispy hair, held in place by a gaudy, silver hairpin.
"Lovely outfit, Pokey, truly you astound me every day," James greeted with a soft laugh. His hazel eyes sparkled with amusement, and his house-elf took it as a compliment.
"Pokey thanks the Young Master," she said with a delicate, low bow, the tips of her ears almost touching the carpeted floor.
Sirius was snickering behind him. "Blimey, I would love to have a house-elf like her," he pointed out. "Kreacher was… grouchy."
"Young Master James requires Pokey's assistance?" the house-elf asked.
"Yes," the bespectacled boy said. He gestured at their two, new guests and smiled. "Please bring their things to the guest rooms. I'm sorry, we have an additional guest today, so I hope it isn't too much of a bother if you fixed another guest room."
Pokey's eyes landed on Hermione. A soft gasp escaped from her mouth as both of her hands landed on her heart. "Could it be?" she wailed, big, fat tears starting to form in her eyes. She looked at her bemused master once more and added, "The future Mistress of the House?"
"What?!" Hermione shrieked as Peter paled and James blushed a brilliant shade of red. Sirius was the only one who found the whole thing hilarious.
"What? NO!" the Potter heir bellowed, suddenly unable to meet Hermione's eyes. "A friend, Pokey. Blimey, why are you always like this?"
"Oh," the house-elf said. It was comical how all her tears had instantly stopped and a look of mild amusement appeared on her face. "Pokey is sorry for the confusion, Young Master. Pokey promises it will never happen again."
James emitted a large snort. "Knowing you, I highly doubt that," he pointed out. Pokey grew sheepish, the ends of her ears drooping a tad bit. "So, anyway, tea is ready, I hope."
"Of course, Young Master James!" Pokey cried, as if scandalised that he even thought of doubting her. "Tea is always ready for the young master and his friends."
"All right, thank you," he said with a laugh. "You may go now, Pokey."
She bowed low for her goodbye and snapped her fingers. She disappeared with a crack, together with Peter and Hermione's things. James then ran a hand through his hair and beckoned them to follow him.
While the boys settled into an easy conversation about summer and the impending release of their OWL scores, Hermione took that opportunity to further survey the Potter Manor. She had concluded during the journey that the foyer was perhaps one of the largest rooms in the house. The corridors were lined by various portraits of previous Potters, and it amused Hermione greatly, how their impossible hair seemed to stem from the middle ages. She was able to take a peek at various rooms, the same gold and maroon ensemble arranged inside.
James suddenly stopped in front of an imposing oak door with the proud Potter seal emblazoned on it. To her surprise, he threw her a wicked smirk. "This is our library," he told her. "It's not as huge as the Black's. Definitely smaller than the Hogwarts library. But my ancestors were notorious readers, some even wrote various novels to pass the time. Dad used to tell me that, before they built the other rooms, they made sure the library was finished first."
He pushed the door open and lifted his arm so Hermione could duck underneath and take a peek. She bloody well knew she was gaping once more, because holy Mother of Merlin, the shelves were endless, with books even reaching up to the highest point of the ceiling. James wasn't lying when he said it wasn't as huge as the one in Grimmauld Place or Hogwarts, but this was still something.
"You shouldn't have shown her the library," Peter teased, gently pulling Hermione away to stop her gawking. "She'll start drooling."
"Shut up, berk," she hissed with a blush as she lightly swatted his arm.
"Her face looked like Christmas had come early," Sirius pointed out, boisterously laughing.
"You can do all your summer homework here, Pettigrew," James teased. "I'm sure you're itching to start doing it soon."
She glowered at their teasing, and wondered how she would survive the next few days staying with these annoying boys. Harry and Ron were already difficult to handle together, especially when they were in one of their moods. Handling four, well blimey, Hermione felt like she had just aged a hundred more years.
The Drawing Room wasn't as huge as the foyer, but still spacious enough to display various antiques decorated against the pale-pink wallpaper of the room. They were currently lounging on chairs that were suspiciously as squashy as the overstuffed couches in the Gryffindor Common Room. Even the arrangement of the chairs was reminiscent of the beloved house, and Hermione had this inkling that Potters usually got Sorted into Gryffindor.
While Sirius recounted how he'd had his last, fantastic row with his family and had run away – surely, he was embellishing a lot of the details – an old couple strode inside to greet the other boys. James was instantly on his feet and bounded towards them, grinning widely as he encircled his arms around their waist.
"You're back early," he said.
"Your father hates the Ministry," the witch – James's mother – reminded with a teasing glare. "Of course he'd want to finish everything up so that he could get out immediately."
"That place is a mess," the wizard – James's father – complained. "I never want to step foot in there again."
"I take it they weren't pleased when you turned down their offer for a position in the Wizengamot," their son guessed with a glint in his hazel eyes. "Again."
His father expelled a loud snort. "I don't even know why they keep on trying every year, when I made it a point I could never associate with those stuffy bast" – his wife gave him a scathing glare – "gentlemen. Imagine trying to strike up a conversation with Abraxas Malfoy. Or, Merlin forbid, Orion Black." He threw a quick apologetic smile at the only Black in the room. "No offence, Sirius."
"S'alright, Fleamont," Sirius grinned. "In fact, I fully agree."
The older wizard broke into merry laughter that was so infectious Hermione couldn't help but smile herself. He looked exactly like James, with the raven hair and chiselled nose. His hair was tamer than the teenager, though, stylishly slicked back like how Regulus wore his hair most of the time. He wore a rich, maroon robe and was leaning against an ornate walking stick with a golden head of a lion on top. He screamed Pureblood aristocracy that could even put Lucius Malfoy to shame, but despite this, there were crinkles in the corner of his eyes, a silly multi-coloured necktie that didn't seem to match his outfit all together, and a relaxed posture no Sacred Twenty-Eight would be caught dead to be sporting when in the company of others.
"Oh, your other guests have arrived," the older witch pointed out, bringing Hermione's attention to her.
James definitely got his eyes and atrocious eyesight from his mother. Her hazel eyes shone behind stylishly thin-framed glasses as she observed them. She was wearing elegant midnight blue robes that slightly shimmered when hit by light. Her hair was light brown, twisted into a pretty bun on top of her head. Although there were already wrinkles on her face, it was undeniable that she had been beautiful in her youth.
Hermione watched as she smiled kindly at Peter, having recognised him, but once her eyes stopped on Hermione, they widened in surprise. "I didn't know we'd have another visitor," she said. Her husband's brown eyes also settled on her and mirrored the surprise of the witch standing beside him.
"Oh, right," James said with a sheepish smile. "She's Peter's sister and I didn't know that she'd be staying with us until today either."
"Um," the brunette unconsciously started, immediately sliding off the couch to stand on her feet. "Good afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Potter. My name is Hermione Pettigrew."
The older wizard quirked an eyebrow, unabashedly amused by her greeting. "Are you sure she is a friend of yours, James?" he asked. "She is terribly polite."
"The politest of us all," Sirius seriously replied while Remus reverently nodded his head. Her brother was fighting a smile but was failing miserably.
Her cheeks flared up when James boisterously laughed. "Most of the time, yes, but she has a mean temper," he pointed out with a meaningful glance at his parents.
A sly glint appeared in Mr. Potter's eyes. "Bat-Bogey Hex?" he asked, delighted.
"Bat-Bogey Hex?" Mrs. Potter echoed, amused.
"Bat-Bogey Hex," James confirmed with his lopsided grin.
"That was in second year!" she blurted out before she could stop herself. When both James and Sirius gave her a pointed glance, her blush intensified. "Well, there was an incident two months ago too, and I know it wasn't my proudest moment, but with all due respect, your son was being a bully to one of my best friends. My temper may have gotten the better of me."
She was aware of how the other three boys were trying to stop their sniggering. She bit her tongue to stop herself from cursing them all – something she knew would further solidify their primary impression of her as having a mean temper – but then, to her utmost surprise, the Potter patriarch was already excitedly crossing the Drawing Room to meet her.
"It is not every day someone can put my impossible son in his place," he said with a laugh. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Pettigrew. I'm Fleamont Potter." He thrust his hand and politely waited for her to grasp it.
"Hermione's fine, Mr. Potter," she said with a kind smile as she grasped his proffered hand and gave it a slight shake.
"Fleamont's fine, too," he said with a deep rumble. "It still makes me uncomfortable being addressed as such because 'Mr. Potter' will always be my father."
His wife elegantly walked beside him and gave Hermione a pretty smile. "Euphemia Potter," she greeted.
"She's also the tutor we've been yammering about," Sirius piped in, trudging forward to place Euphemia's hand on the crook of his arm. "You know, the one who made the ridiculous colour-coded schedules that practically saved our lives."
Sirius directed the old witch to comfortably sit on one of the armchairs. Mrs. Potter smiled at him appreciatively.
"I've been getting more Exceeds Expectations in my essays over the last school year," James added, plopping down on the couch beside Remus.
"Although I've tried really hard to make these blokes study more since first year," Remus continued, "Hermione managed to do it in just a year."
"You always let us get away with things, Moony," Peter pointed out. "Hermione rules with an iron fist."
"That's not true!" the brunette sputtered out. Fleamont and James were boisterously laughing, their facial expressions ridiculously identical, and Hermione tried her very hardest not to laugh because they were teasing her, but they were all so light-hearted and carefree and she really couldn't stay annoyed now, could she.
"So, I will be right in guessing that you are the one who introduced the guitar to my son too," Euphemia continued amidst their laughs.
Hermione merely smiled and nodded her head. She finally slid on the couch beside her brother.
"Ah, so you're the reason why he's strumming that blasted thing until the wee hours of the morning," James's father said with a melodramatic sigh.
"Hey, I don't hear any complaints!" James pointed out with a put-out frown. "Besides, I'm actually quite good at it. Tell them, Hermione. You said so yourself."
The brunette rolled her eyes. "I never said that," she shot back.
"Your year-end spectacle was brilliant, though," Sirius said. "If I were Lily, I would have snogged you senselessly right there and then."
"Shut it, Padfoot," the blushing wizard murmured under his breath, hitting Sirius on his chest with the pointy end of his elbow.
His parents exchanged amused glances; clearly, they had no idea that James was doing all of these ridiculous things just to woo a girl.
"Who is this Lily?" Euphemia deliberately asked, leaning a tad closer to her son with interest in her eyes.
"You've never talked about a 'Lily' before, James," Fleamont supplemented.
This surprised Hermione greatly because judging from what she had witnessed a while ago, the three Potters were very close. James had no qualms telling them everything, even embarrassing things that had happened to him like getting hexed by a twelve-year-old feisty witch. Surely, James would have spoken about his beloved Lily flower to his parents before.
'Unless…'
Her eyes widened as a disbelieving thought appeared in her mind. The Potters were amicable, even warm and welcoming, but they were still Purebloods. They still had a bloody house-elf, and their Manor screamed elegance and rich money. Hermione didn't doubt that they'd still be practising some of the Pureblood customs they were introduced to since time immemorial.
Her heart lurched with pain at the thought that perhaps, perhaps James was ashamed of Lily because of her blood status. Sure, he had specifically told her that he would never casually throw that slur to her, or anyone at all, but just because they never openly showed their disdain to those of lower blood, didn't mean they never had any hidden hatred for those who didn't share their Pureblood status.
"She's my best friend," Hermione suddenly explained. James gave her a warning glare, but she steadfastly ignored it. "Brilliant witch with a huge, lovely heart. She was Sorted in Gryffindor, too, and an incoming sixth year like James and the rest." She swallowed down the bile that seemed to rise from her throat. "She's a Muggle-born."
She waited in bated breath, trying to gauge the reactions of the older Potters. She expected a slight curl of the lip or maybe a brief glint of disgust. She desperately prayed none of those would show because they were really nice people and Hermione wanted to like them both.
"Oh," Euphemia said with recognition. "You mean Lily Evans?"
"Ah," Fleamont chuckled. "Yes, yes, of course. He never really said her name that frequently. Always 'Evans' this or 'Evans' that." He shared a conspiratorial grin with his wife. "We've always wondered who this elusive 'Evans' was."
James's cheeks were flaming red and he was still glaring darkly at her. Hermione, on the other hand, silently sighed in relief. It was ridiculous of her to even think they were bigots like the Blacks and the Malfoys. James had been really pleasant to the Muggle-borns at school despite his blood status. Surely, this stemmed from his upbringing.
"Anyway, we've bothered you long enough," Fleamont said as he rose from the couch. He sauntered closer to his wife and pulled her to her feet. "We'll leave you younglings to have fun without the adults."
"But not too much fun," Euphemia warned with a small frown on her face. Her eyes settled on Sirius, who grew sheepish under her gaze. "Am I making myself clear?"
Their chorus of 'yes' brought a smile to her face. She then looked at Hermione and her smile grew. "But now that you are here, I am not quite so worried anymore," she added, prompting the younger witch to laugh.
"I have some handy spells up my sleeves if they get out of line," Hermione promised.
"Iron fist," Peter hissed with a teasing glint in his eyes.
The couple laughed and bid them goodbye, promising to call for them once dinner was ready.
Once they were gone, a huge grin that spelt danger appeared on Sirius's face. "Anyone fancy a game of Exploding Snap?" he asked.
Hermione sighed.
This would be a long day.
August 9, 1976
She was idly reading a book in the guest bedroom when she spied the Marauders marching outside, blankets and pieces of tent tucked under their armpits. The boys were also clutching some pillows and board games, looking as if they were about to go camping.
The brunette frowned and shot up from her seat, a little put-out at not being invited. She quickly ran from her room and out of Potter Manor, briefly halting to marvel the lovely garden at the back of the Manor. Hermione took a mental note to visit this garden once more.
"Where are you going?" she cried, urging her feet to go faster to catch up with the boys. Thankfully, they had stopped and had turned around to face Hermione.
"We're going somewhere, kitten," Sirius explained, an uncertain smile on his face.
"I can see that," she said, pointedly looking at the things they were holding. "But where?"
James sighed and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "There's a small cabin near the Potter Manor. It isn't too far away; you can actually see it on top of a little hill from the Manor window. But it's secluded enough to stop passers-by from stumbling across it."
Hermione narrowed her eyes in curiosity as her gaze landed on Remus. The werewolf looked already tired and a bit impatient, listlessly bristling as his eyes constantly darted heavenward.
"Oh," she deadpanned, realisation dawning. "It's a full moon today."
"Clever observation," Remus angrily snapped.
The brunette quirked an eyebrow, surprised with his attitude. The werewolf deflated and grumpily looked away.
"Cranky Remus always makes an appearance when the full moon is near," Sirius explained. "You must forgive him."
"I'm coming with you," she said without thinking. Remus instantly paled, while Peter's jaw dropped and he instantly trudged towards Hermione.
"Are you insane?" he sputtered out. "Hermione, no. It's dangerous."
The witch thoughtfully bit her bottom lip, trying to come up with a solution. It was undeniably dangerous, of course. Her last encounter with Remus in his werewolf form was still fresh in her mind, and undoubtedly also fresh in theirs. But she really wanted to come and she was curious as to how the Animagi transformed into their animal forms. Besides, she could finally complete her potion tonight and spit out the Mandrake leaf from inside her mouth.
Her eyes then resolutely settled on James. "Potter Manor is heavily warded, right?" she started.
James frowned in suspicion. "Yes," he answered. "Ancient magic and all that shite. Although we do not dabble with blood wards because Merlin my mother would have a conniption if we ever did that. The wards my father used to keep the Manor safe are quite complicated."
"And these wards," she continued, "they're not merely confined to your Manor but to the surrounding vicinity too, right?"
"Where's this conversation going?" he asked, his frown deepening with obvious discomfort.
"This cabin you're going to, I'm sure it is heavily warded, too," she continued. She apologetically met Remus's eyes. "Of course they both know about your affliction, and still welcomed you openly, but they also knew about the dangers of housing a werewolf during a full moon. I'm quite sure Mr. Potter placed enough wards surrounding the cabin to make sure that no one will get hurt; not even you, Remus."
His gold eyes held her gaze, an indecipherable look in them. "There are wards," he slowly started, "that make sure I will not be able to get out of the cabin once I'm transformed. It's more restricting than the Shrieking Shack, but unlike Hogwarts, there isn't a Forbidden Forest. The population in the town near the Manor is also thrice more than Hogsmeade. We all agreed we have to take the necessary precautions."
"Remus!" Peter exclaimed. "Don't say anything else that might give her ideas."
Hermione ignored her brother. "Well, there you have it," she casually said. "Just as long as I don't enter the cabin, I will be safe."
Remus slumped forward and gave her a withering glance. "I almost hurt you last time, Hermione," he reminded, his jaw tensed. "It will really be best if you stay away."
"I can run away again," she said with a half-hearted shrug. "Now, come on. The moon is about to ascend the horizon."
She turned on her heel and marched forward, aware of the pairs of eyes boring holes into the back of her skull. Hermione was determined to learn more about becoming an Animagi tonight and no one was going to stop her. She was being mighty stubborn about this, as it was truly dangerous after all, but she'd be ready if things didn't go her way. They just have to trust her.
She heard collective sighs behind her and secretly grinned, knowing they had realised that arguing with her would be pointless once she had set her mind to something.
Peter soon rushed forward to walk beside her. She darted a sideways glance at her brother and softly smiled, seeing the disgruntled look on his face. "I'll be fine," she appeased, looping her arm with his.
He sighed once more but didn't offer any reply, only steadfastly matching his pace with hers.
They finally reached the small cabin on the outskirts of the Potter Manor Estate. It was smaller than the Shrieking Shack, but definitely more well-kept.
"Well, see you tomorrow," Remus gruffly claimed, trudging inside the cabin and slamming the door behind him with a soft thud.
"You're not going with him?" Hermione asked, glancing at the other three.
"Mum forbids it," James glumly said as he deposited the blankets and pillows on a nearby tree stump. "I know she means well, and she worries about our safety. We even told her we're illegal Animagi just to convince her Remus wouldn't harm us if we are in our animal forms. But… yeah."
"Remus agreed immediately, that wanker," Sirius said as he pulled out his wand and waved it in the air. The poles and tent sheets danced in the air as they rearranged themselves to form a decent tent. "We all know he didn't like the arrangement but he bloody agreed. We tried to break in once, but Euphemia found out and went ballistic. She almost banned us from accompanying Remus, so the stupid bastard insisted that we should just listen to her."
"That's Remus for you," Peter said with a sigh, grabbing onto the blankets and pillows and disappearing behind the tent flap.
"Then, what do you do while you wait for him to transform back?" she asked.
James shrugged. "Stuff," he said. "Most of the time, we roam around the nearby town in our Animagi forms. Sometimes we just hang out inside the tent. But now that you're here…"
Hermione scoffed and gave him a withering glare. "Please," she snapped, "don't let my presence stop you from doing your shenanigans."
The bespectacled boy grinned and ruffled his hair. "Who said you're going to stop us?" he shot back. He laughed and turned on his heel, promptly changing into his majestic Animagus form. Hermione emitted a soft gasp, finally beholding James fully in his stag form. She hadn't really properly looked at him, because last time, she was busy running for her life. But now, with the soft moonlight shining down on him, she couldn't deny that he was really beautiful. Harry's Patronus was spectacular, of course, but it paled in comparison with James's form.
The stag proudly held up his head and stood a tad taller, obviously preening under her appreciative gaze.
"Berk," she said, laughing when he tried to nuzzle his nose against her hand.
Inside the cabin, Remus's familiar howl resounded across the vast field. Hermione unwittingly flinched and then smiled when James nuzzled his nose against her hand once more.
"I'm all right," she said, patting his snout.
Peter and Sirius both emerged from the tent and grinned upon seeing James. Sirius shifted into a black dog and excitedly padded towards James, playfully sniping at one of his hind legs. She watched in amusement as the two chased each other around the field.
Her eyes landed on Peter when he touched her elbow. "You can spit out the Mandrake leaf now," he pointed out, tilting his head up at the visible full moon.
Hermione wordlessly nodded her head and rummaged inside her satchel. She pulled out the empty crystal vial and lifted it in the air until the moonlight hit the glass, breaking into small glittering lights that twinkled like the stars above.
Satisfied the whole glass was touched by the rays of the moon, Hermione uncorked the vial and spat the saliva-filled Mandrake leaf inside. "Good riddance," she sighed in relief, prompting Peter to softly chuckle beside her.
"It has a weird taste," he concurred with a grin. "I couldn't eat properly for months because it always spoiled the food."
Hermione then sat down on the tree stump and pulled out the other ingredients for the potion. She plucked a strand of her hair, placed the fresh, untouched morning dew inside, and lastly, added the chrysalis of a Death's-head Hawk Moth Sirius had graciously given to her a while ago.
Once everything was inside, Hermione gave it a small swish, watching as the ingredients dissolved and turned into a concoction as silver as the moonlight itself.
"Now, we just wait for a thunderstorm," Peter said with a sigh. "Before that, remember to repeat—"
"Amato Animo Animato Animagus," Hermione finished off, grinning when her brother rolled his eyes. "I know, Peter. I've memorised the steps."
"Of course you have."
She laughed and carefully placed the complete concoction inside her satchel. Weather forecasts for the following days spoke of an impending thunderstorm and all Hermione had to do was repeat the incantation every sunrise and sundown until thunder struck. It wouldn't be too hard now.
"You're not going to transform?" she asked, glancing sideways at her brother when Peter comfortably sat down on the grass beside her.
"Eh," he dismissively claimed. "I'm small compared to the other two so if I tried to engage in their ridiculous chase, I might get trampled upon." When he saw Hermione's look, he growled. "I know, I know, it sucks to be a rat when your best friends can change into a majestic stag or a frightening dog. I was annoyed for a bit when I found out I could only transform into a rat."
"Your Animagus has its merits," Hermione comforted, reaching forward to squeeze his arm. "Like, for example, you can escape from a dark wizard unnoticed. I'm sure you will pass your Concealment and Disguise course during your Auror training without much of a hitch."
He made a noncommittal sound at the back of his throat and stretched his legs in front of him. He watched contentedly as his best friends continued playing around, the corner of his mouth twitching every time Sirius started barking too loud or when James's antlers got stuck against a low branch.
"You're really all right, Hermione?"
Hermione furrowed her brows and looked at her brother again. "Never been better, Petey," she replied.
He worriedly peered at her, his lips tugged into a small frown. "I know it's already weeks ago but… you know, with the full moon and Moony…"
"I'm really fine," she reassured with a small smile. She patted her satchel and added, "I'm going to turn into an Animagus soon, so the worry is unnecessary."
Peter sighed and watched his best friends again, guilt in his eyes. "We're truly sorry for that day," he quietly continued.
"I know."
"After everything that had happened…" Peter paused and slumped forward. "We were total berks that day, Hermione. Because of our stupid bullying, you and Snape almost died. I told them maybe we went a little overboard and we agreed we shouldn't have let our stupid egos get the better of us."
"You told them?" she gasped, swivelling around to train her blue eyes on her brother.
Peter coloured under the pale moonlight. "Well, you did say I should stand up to my best friends if I think they're being berks. So, I did." He gave her a toothy grin, his eyes lit up with a certain happiness Hermione had never seen him wear before. "It felt good to be listened to by your best friends, you know."
Hermione mirrored his grin, her heart fluttering at the thought that her brother - who worshipped Sirius and James like they both were his heroes; who hesitated on defying his best friends request, because he feared they would dislike him; who sometimes turned a blind eye when they were being too insolent to those they pranked – had stood up against them because he knew they were doing something wrong and that it had to be stopped.
Tears prickled her blue eyes because she now fervently believed that this boy – her brother – who she had grown up with and had come to love unconditionally, had grown out of his shell of insecurity and fear and had become the brave, loyal Gryffindor she hoped he would be.
She leaned down and drew him into a tight hug. "I'm so proud of you, Petey," she whispered, feeling a tad silly how a tear slipped down from her eye. But she really couldn't deny the relief she felt.
"Merlin, Hermione, no need to get all sappy," he complained.
Hermione merely chuckled and squeezed him tight.
August 10, 1976
James was jerked awake when sudden movement disturbed his sleep.
He blearily blinked his hazy eyes and grabbed onto his spectacles which lay on his bedside table. A yawn tore away from his mouth as he sat up and glanced at the other occupants of the spacious tent. Peter and Sirius were still fast asleep, the former trying to wake up the whole town with his ridiculous snoring, whilst the latter muttered incomprehensible words, clearly dreaming. He looked at the other bed where Hermione slept but was surprised to see that the bed was made and she was gone.
Frowning, James stood up from his bed and ruffled his hair, knowing full well he'd just made his bed hair more impossibly dishevelled.
Another silent yawn fought its way out of his mouth as he ducked through the tent flap. He froze when he spied Hermione's bushy hair, disappearing inside the cabin.
"Fuck," he gasped, but then willed his heart to slow down when he spied the sun making its slow ascent over the horizon. Besides, if she were able to pass through the barrier, it meant that Remus had transformed back into his human form.
Curiosity now trampled his consternation as James continued to quietly trail behind the brunette.
He was now used to the mess Remus always made when he was in werewolf form, but Hermione wasn't. The corner of his lips twitched when she stared at the destruction with abject horror, before she pulled out her wand and absentmindedly Reparo-ed as much as she could.
James didn't know why he opted to keep his presence unknown. He was more content watching her furrow her brows in concentration and bite her plump, bottom lip, trying to release a large amount of magic during this early hour.
By the time she was finished, a few of her curls stuck against her forehead and she absentmindedly brushed them away and continued.
He trailed not too far behind, skipped a few floorboards he knew would noisily creak, and stopped at the doorframe when Hermione zoomed inside the room and instantly went beside Remus's sleeping form. His best friend was sprawled on top of the ripped bed, fitfully sleeping. There were new gashes on his face and arms and he even had a busted lip.
James sighed. Last night's transformation might have been hard for Remus because they weren't beside him. If only he hadn't agreed so easily to Euphemia when his mother gave her conditions, then he wouldn't be suffering alone.
Hermione's face crumpled when she saw his wounds and immediately fell on her knees beside the bed. He curiously watched as she rummaged inside her satchel and pulled out a small tub. When she opened the lid, he recognised a healing ointment of some sort, something Madame Pomfrey had kept stacked inside the school infirmary.
She then daintily applied the ointment on all of Remus's wounds, double-checking everything to make sure she didn't miss a spot or to check she had applied enough.
Something stirred in James's heart, something he hadn't really felt before, something foreign and uncomfortable but definitely, definitely not unpleasant.
There was a certain softness on her face, concentrating with all her might just to bloody apply an ointment on his best friend's wounds. Her ridiculous curls kept on rebelliously blocking her view, but Hermione would just brush them away to continue her small ministrations.
By the time she was done, she admired her handiwork and stood up. Hermione then gently tucked Remus under the blanket, brushed a few hairs of his fringe away, and dug inside her satchel. She pulled out a bar of chocolate and placed it beside Remus's sleeping form.
James saw her blue eyes then and he instantly thought of his most favourite of days, when the blue sky was cloudless and clear, perfect for flying. He liked those days the most, because when he was airborne, he'd tilt his head and stare heavenward, feeling marvellously tiny under the vastness of the clear, blue sky. And Hermione's blue eyes were like the sky – clear and bright and so, so vast, like the depths in them could spiral him into a universe he had never explored before.
A beat skipped. And another. And try as he might, he couldn't make sense of it.
By then, Hermione had fully stood up and had turned on her heel, only to expel a soft scream upon seeing she wasn't alone.
"How long have you been there?" she demanded, a hand flying up to her heart to calm its beating.
James dumbly stared for a while, suddenly tongue-tied and confused. He wanted to say words that never formed, his mind still swirling with the image of her eyes and the sky and the euphoria of staring at their endless beauty.
"Potter?" she asked, slowly knitting her eyebrows in worry at his silence.
This snapped him out of his reverie and felt himself warming under her curious gaze. "I – I wanted to check on Remus," he managed to stumble out. "Turns out you've beaten me to it."
"Oh," she said, a small smile growing on her face as she stared down at the slumbering boy. "He's all right. Quite tired, I'm sure."
Hermione's gaze landed back on him again, uncertainty written on her face. "I should go back," she deliberately said.
James mutely nodded, his heartbeat quickening when she walked towards him. He froze when she stopped in front of him – was she always this tiny? – and tilted her head. Her forehead briefly brushed against his chin; the touch was brief, but it jolted all of his nerves awake. Her blue eyes glinted in amusement. "You're in the way, Potter," she said, one corner of her mouth lifting into a small smirk.
"Right, of course," he said, hastily stepping aside to let her through.
Hermione gave him another dubious glance before passing by, walking away without another single glance back.
But his eyes found themselves latched onto her wild, bushy hair and James couldn't seem to look away.
A/N: So, I researched about the Potters to give their Manor some justice and I'm surprised that the only property they owned mentioned in canon was the Potter Cottage at Godric's Hollow. Granted, they're not Sacred Twenty-Eight but I believe they're still an old, filthy rich Pureblood family so yes, Potter Manor was born ahahaha.
Also, have you read the instructions on how to become an Animagus? It's wild and you should totally check it out. I'm legit cackling at the thought of these impatient boys trying – and failing – to perfect their Animagi forms for years until they succeeded.
Next chapter's a continuation of Hermione's summer with the Marauders! Thank you for all the love and kind words. I love you all.
With love,
WickedlyAwesomeMe
P.S. Follow me on tumblr! (kimmy-writes) If you want to talk to me, I'll most likely reply there ahahaha.