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

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

A/N: Like a reverse sour patch kid...

Chapter 37: Semper Liber*

February 1978

The Room of Requirement

As the days passed since the disastrous January moon, things were still not quite back to normal amongst the Marauders. As the school year showed signs of winding down, anxiety over the upcoming NEWT exams began to creep up with the temperature. Hermione found herself being drawn to the library, yet ironically more so for a distraction than a quiet place to study. She was caught in a constant loop of anger, frustration, sadness, and guilt. With the loss of the Marauders Map, she and Regulus were able to meet up fairly regularly in the Room of Requirement, signaling to each other with the help of a particular book in the stacks by the table they used to share.

Hermione was forthcoming with Regulus. She told him plainly that their continued friendship would have to be kept hidden from the other Marauders and most definitely from Sirius. Regulus, for his part, didn't put up any resistance. In all honesty, he was counting his lucky stars that Hermione was even speaking with him.

Hermione became accustomed to shifting the Room of Requirements to a version of the prefects' bathroom immediately after her time with Regulus. The first time after they had met, she had later run into Remus, thankfully just Remus. He had taken a single breath and immediately berated her with questions regarding what exactly she was doing with Sirius' brother given everything that had happened. Hermione had barely been able to talk her way out of the confrontation, saying she needed to address Regulus for some sort of closure. Remus, luckily, bought Hermione's story and had only lectured her for fifteen more minutes.

Following the encounter with Remus, Hermione took care to remove and replace Regulus' scent after each meeting. Some days she even went as far as purposely running into Severus or sharing long hugs with Marlene, who had a penchant for intense perfumes.

Her time with Regulus in the Room of Requirement usually followed the same pattern. They would set up their books in the recreation of the library at 12 Grimmauld Place and attempt to study before abandoning their textbooks altogether in favor of conversation.

The first time Kreacher had appeared, Hermione nearly bit a hole straight through her cheek.

The pair had been lounging on the couch closest to the fireplace when Hermione's stomach growled loudly. She immediately put a hand over herself and blushed. Beside her Regulus laughed.

"It's nearly four, Hermione," he said. "When's the last time you've eaten?"

"I may not have had time for lunch today," she winced. Regulus shook his head and closed his eyes. Hermione raised an eyebrow at him as he scrunched his eyelids closed.

"What are you doing?"

"Shh," he muttered. "I'm trying to see if this will work?"

"If what will–"

Pop.

"Master Regulus."

Suddenly a house elf was standing before them. Hermione's eyes widened as she took in the familiar snout-like nose and bloodshot eyes of the elf before her. She turned back to Regulus who was looking at Kreacher with a triumphant grin and what seemed like admiration in his eyes.

"What? How?" Hermione stuttered. "I don't understand."

"Hermione, meet Kreacher. Kreacher, meet Hermione."

The tiny house elf finally turned to appraise the witch before him. Hermione felt chills run through her bones as Kreacher stared at her through narrowed eyes. The little house elf even had the gall to poke her sharply in the knee before grumbling under his breath. Hermione could just make out mudblood before Regulus shouted.

"Kreacher, no!"

Hermione snapped back to reality and looked questioningly at Regulus.

"You'll have to forgive Kreacher, Hermione," he explained. "He's been with my family a long time and has picked up a few of the more, um, unsavory opinions toward non-Purebloods."

Hermione simply nodded, still in shock over seeing the house elf.

"Kreacher, Hermione is my friend. I listen to her, and you should, too." Kreacher made some sort of grunting noise. "Hermione is a bit hungry. Would you mind gathering some tea and biscuits for us?"

"Kreacher lives to serve Favorite Master Regulus." Kreacher bowed low to the floor before his face shifted. For a moment Hermione thought perhaps the elf was having a fit. But then she realized he was smiling. The expression looked so odd of the bitter elf's face that Hermione had to blink several times just to convince herself it was truly there.

With another pop, Kreacher disappeared.

"I didn't know if he'd be able to get in this room," Regulus began as Kreacher returned almost instantaneously with his little arms laden with a setup for tea and a plate overflowing with little cakes and biscuits. Regulus nodded and smiled at the elf, and Kreacher took his leave from the room.

"It's a bit of an ignored fact, house elf magic is. Especially among purebloods, I might add. Most wards, like the ones around Hogwarts, are designed for protection against witches and wizards, maybe werewolves or vampires if you're really paranoid. But most people don't even consider the possibility of house elves, so they're able to get into most places.

"Figured this out my first year. I'd just been sorted into Slytherin and some of the older kids were giving me a hard time about Sirius. Not his fault, but you know, it happened. So I was feeling quiet homesick and had shut myself in my four-poster and just called out to Kreacher. Just called him, as if I was in my room at home. And it worked!"

Hermione smiled at Regulus.

"He must really care for you."

"Oh definitely, I'm his favorite for sure. He respects Mum the most, but I'm the one he really likes. Of course, I suppose it's because I'm the nicest to him. Sirius always thought he was a bit ugly and creepy and told him just as much."

"I know what you mean," Hermione nodded. "Back, uh, back home, there was this elf whose family treated him terribly. It was quite horrible to see. I'll never understand how wizards can be so cavalier about forced slavery."

This time Regulus' eyebrows shot up.

"Forced slavery?"

"Yes!" Hermione was getting excited now. "I mean forcing an entire race of creatures to bend to the whim of witches and wizards—it's revolting. And that's not even considering the potential for abusive homes. House elves deserve better. They deserve to be freed."

"Whoa, whoa there. What are you on about?" Regulus threw his hands up when the full force of Hermione's glare bore down on him. "Hermione, have you ever actually talked with a house elf?"

"Of course I have! I'm quite good friends with some house elves. There's Dobby—he was abused by his family before my friend helped free him. And there's Winky—she's working at a school now and recovering from a drinking problem. She's freed as well. And obviously I know Kr- others."

"Okay, so your house elf friends," Regulus began. "You said they're free?"

"Yes, Dobby and Winky."

"Dobby and Winky. Okay, and Winky works?"

"Yes, she was freed, but didn't take to it too well. Hence, the drinking. So she came to work at the school. For a wage, I might add."

"Okay, and this Dobby?"

"Oh, he doesn't work for a family. He's a free elf." Hermione bit her lip. "I mean, he does work with Winky sometimes, and he does help us out whenever my friend calls him."

"So they both work."

"Yes, but–"

"Do they enjoy the work?"

"Yes, but–"

"I'm not disagreeing with you, Hermione. I'm just trying to make a point."

"Which is?" Hermione narrowed her eyes.

"I agree that there are problems with how some wizards treat house elves. I mean, you've never seen Sirius with Kreacher, but trust me. But you have to know that working, for a house elf, is like breathing."

"Only because they've been forced into it!"

"No, Hermione, really! It's in their makeup. It's just a part of who they are."

"I refuse to believe that. No species wants to be subservient to another."

"Have you ever heard of Newt Scamander?" Regulus shifted.

"Of course I've heard of Newt Scamander."

"Have you ever read his essay on the Pureblood approach to magical creatures?"

"No." Hermione fell silent, sensing she was about to be schooled.

"Well, then you didn't read the addendum that explained his research on house elves."

"Newt Scamander researched house elves?"

"Yes, now listen, you might learn something." Regulus smirked. "Scamander's research traced the origins of house elves to the Arctic. Wizards started to explore that area long, long before muggles did. Anyway, this Russian wizard, Alexander Moroz or something, found his way to their little civilization.

"Basically, according to the way they set up their society, the eldest elf was the Master of all the other elves. They built homes and monuments and statues, did anything the Master wanted. And when he died, they tore it all down and began again with a new Master. When Moroz got there, the elves first thought of him as some ancient house elf so they treated him as per their custom.

"Moroz lived up there for years. The elves helped him to survive, sheltered him, clothed him, fed him, and in turn he taught them magic, unlocked the potential within them.

"So you see," Regulus shrugged. "Serving and working is what they do, what they've always done. It's a part of them. Even more so than magic."

Hermione didn't speak for a minute.

"Are you telling me there was an old man who lived at the North Pole with a bunch of elves?"

"Well, that's not the take-away I was hoping you would get, but yes." Hermione stared at Regulus incredulously. "Blimey Hermione, where do you think the muggle fairy tales all come from?"

Hermione burst into laughter.

Sometimes though, it wasn't all fun and games and tea and stories.

"It's hurting again, isn't it? Your mark?"

"It's nothing," Regulus said, despite the whitening of his knuckles clenching his forearm. Ignoring him, Hermione opened her book bag to fish out her small beaded bag. She reached her arm in all the way to her shoulder. She returned to Regulus' side and handed him a vial of Calming Drought.

"I'm not even going to ask where you got this," Regulus said before obediently downing the vial in one gulp.

"Good, because I wouldn't tell you anyway." Hermione smiled sadly as she wrapped her fingers around Regulus' and pried them away from his arm. Gently she peeled his sleeve back to reveal the Dark Mark. Regulus raised his eyes to her face, once again looking for a sign of disgust or fear or god forbid pity. Instead, he only saw sadness and a spark of anger he knew wasn't directed at him.

Hermione rolled her fingers over Regulus' arm, taking care not to touch the tender flesh blackened by the Mark. She massaged the sore tendons in his arm.

"Is he calling you?"

"No." They were speaking in whispers now. "It's an echo. He's calling others."

"I'm sorry, Regulus. You don't deserve this pain."

"Don't I?" Hermione dropped his arm and grabbed his chin, gently forcing Regulus to meet her eyes.

"No. You don't." Hermione's eyes hardened. "You were a child, Regulus. You had no choice. You're not in control of your destiny. Not yet."

"You say that as if one day I'll have a choice. But don't you get it?" He gestured to his Mark. "This takes that all away. He took it all away."

"No, Regulus," she whispered as she moved both hands to Regulus' cheeks and her forehead to his. "You will get your choice. I promise you."

"Regulus?" She began again after some time.

"Yes, Hermione."

"I want you to promise me something."

"Anything." The word tumbled from Regulus' mouth before he could stop it, but strangely enough, he felt he didn't want to stop it.

"I need you to trust me, Regulus. To the end." There was something in Hermione's voice that Regulus couldn't place. Something fierce and bold. It reminded Regulus of watching a thunderstorm roll in from the comfort of his room. "I promise that I will be loyal to you, will never intend hard, and will be your confidante without deceit."

"If you let me," she added, blushing. Regulus opened his eyes to see Hermione's own tightly shut. "Oh, please let me, Regulus. It's only going to get harder from here. You need not be afraid of sharing with me. You already know I need you. That I'm going to need you. I trust you, Regulus. Please, just, trust me in return."

Regulus felt as if a tragically short thread, deep within his chest, lengthened once over.

"Always."

A/N: *Always Free