Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling. All characters, places, descriptions, etc. (unless original and created by me) belong to her.
Summary: It was a small pack, of course, just the five of them, but together they were something wild. Hermione finds herself in the Marauder's Era with four new best friends.
A/N: POV: I give you a new chapter for Valentine's Day and you give me a review. xx Love you all for reading. Thanks for joining this journey!
Chapter 67: …Aut Simul Stabunt
November 1978
Potter Manor
"Do you ever think about kids?"
"Kids?" Lily finished tying her hair back in a ponytail and climbed into bed beside James. They shifted and moved against the pillows to find their familiar poses, Lily curled on her side with James' arms wrapped around her. She wiggled her feet to press against his shins.
"Yeah, kids."
"Do I ever think about kids?"
"It's a simple question."
Lily laughed. "I don't know what you're asking."
"Do you—" He squeezed her tight, making her laugh again. "—Mrs. Potter, my love, my life, my wife, ever think about kids?"
Lily's eyes grew wide. She jolted upright and stared at James. "Are we talking about this?"
James smiled.
"James, no, no, no, stop looking at me like that. Are we talking about this now?"
James sat up as well, pulling Lily to rest against his chest. "I guess not now, but I dunno, I figured we should check back to see if we're still on the same page."
"And that page is?"
"Kids, Lil. Children, babies, infants. Miniature versions of me and you running around this house, crying and shitting and keeping us awake all the time."
"Oh wow, Mr. Potter, you do paint a pretty picture." Her eyes sparkled even as she hesitantly spoke. "That page is still the same, but just how soon do you think we're going to reach it?"
James' grin exploded across his face. He waggled his eyebrows and kissed her, his hand holding the back of her neck as she melted into his touch. But then she was laughing against his lips, pulling back away.
"Not now, you bully."
"Now, tomorrow, a month, a year. I've always been mental when it comes to you." James smirked. "You say the word and I'll put in the work."
Lily slapped his hands where they reached for you before holding his face and kissing him again. She shook her head and smiled. "You cad," she scoffed playfully. "Be serious."
His body shifted. His smile fell. The spark in his eyes remained fixated on her. Merlin, but this man could somehow make her feel the weight and enormity of his love for her. He was always serious when it came to her, to them. She'd known that for a long time now, but sometimes she needed to hear him say it. If only to quell this sudden, overwhelming—and frankly all too tempting—anticipation that burst up inside her.
"I love you, Lil. You are my family. And I want our family to grow."
"There's a war going on," she whispered as a hand moved unconsciously to the space between her hips.
"But this is our life." James kissed the top of her head. "I don't want to waste it waiting for an end to the war. I want to live it now, with you."
"Well," Lily mused. "It's not like they just suddenly pop into existence. We'd have some time to prepare."
"Only when you're ready."
"When we're both ready." She could feel him smile into her hair. "It will happen, James. We'll build our little family. Probably at the most inconvenient time, but it will happen."
"At some point."
"At some point."
James pulled her to his chest, dotting kisses wherever he could reach. Lily's laughter echoed through the room and down the empty halls of the manor. One day, he thought, this house will be full again.
The Shelter
Hermione, Sirius, and Remus tumbled through the floo, trailing laughter through the flames. They'd gone out for dinner, just them. They hadn't been able to have the whole gang together for a Sunday night dinner in a while, but the three of them would still make time, the benefits of living together. It had been light and airy. They'd ventured to a muggle restaurant and spent the evening speculating on the lives of those around them. What did they do? Why were they here? Who were they?
Hermione immediately toed off her shoes, heading upstairs to her room to change into something more comfortable. Remus and Sirius moved to the kitchen, Sirius pouring out two servings of whiskey and a glass of wine for Hermione. He eyed the label on the bottle as Remus leaned against the counter, not yet moving to take his glass.
"How much do I owe you for dinner, Pads?" The slightest hint of pride on the heels of his words.
"My treat," Sirius said as he lifted his glass in salute.
"No, really." Remus crossed his arms in front of him. "I don't know the exchange rate right now, but I've got some galleons upstairs to cover the muggle money."
Sirius grabbed Remus' glass and shoved it in his hands. "No, really, Moony. My treat. Don't worry about it."
"Why won't you let me pay you back?" Remus set down the glass.
"Because you don't have to."
"I'm not carrying any muggle money right now, but I can pay you back. It's not—"
"Remus, I don't give a shit if you can or can't pay. If you'd pulled out money at the table, I still wouldn't have let you pay."
Remus reddened. "I can pay for my own meals, Pads."
"Merlin, I never said you couldn't." Sirius ran a hand across his face before taking a drink. "Fucking hell. It's just dinner. Why can't you just let me pay?"
"You pay for everything," Remus said, glancing quickly to the open doorway and hoping Hermione took her time upstairs. "This house, the furniture, the food. This fucking whiskey."
"Well, actually I lifted that from James."
Remus rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean."
"Okay, I do, but so what?"
"So what?" Remus grit his teeth. "So you don't need to provide for me. I can provide for myself."
"But you don't have to!" Sirius set his glass down and turned to fully face Remus. "I can see how hard you work, Remus, but we live in a fucked up world that doesn't treat you the way it should. But I've got a vault full of my uncle's money that's begging to be used. And who better to spend good ol' Black family money on then two werewolves?"
"I'm not a charity," Remus growled.
"No, you're not." Sirius narrowed his eyes. "A charity would just accept the money without assuming it's some veiled insult or whatever the fuck you're thinking."
Remus picked up his glass, his eyes still burning.
"The way we live," Sirius gestured around the house, "is nothing compared to the expenses my mother and those peoplego through. What you spend in a year? Yeah, they could spend that in a day."
"Is that supposed to make me feel good?"
"No, Moony, it's supposed to make you realize that I can take care of us."
"You shouldn't have to." Remus turned toward the counter and drained his glass before setting it back down a touch too forcefully. "Fuck."
Sirius was quiet. He just watched his friend's back rise and fall with exasperated breaths, waiting for Remus to continue.
"I just," Remus said, turning back to Sirius. "It shifts things, Pads." He scrunched his eyes closed before training his gaze on the ceiling. "I'm already your werewolf friend. I don't want to be your poor, werewolf friend."
"You're my friend, Remus. It's that simple. I don't pay because I think you can't. I pay because I can. I pay because I want to take care of you and Hermione. You two are my family. It's literally the easiest thing I can do." Sirius turned away to pour himself another glass of whiskey.
Remus opened his mouth, but quieted again as the two heard Hermione's footsteps on the stairs. He set his glass in the sink before heading to the doorway.
"I'm just going to go on and head up." His head was bowed.
"Moony," Sirius called after him. "Remus, we're good, right?"
Remus turned back, a sad smile on his face. "We're brothers," he said, like it was the simplest thing in the world. "We'll always be good."
Sirius nodded and stayed in the kitchen, listening to the hushed voices of Hermione passing Remus on the stairs. He grabbed the glass of wine and held it out to her as she entered the kitchen.
"Thanks," Hermione said, accepting the glass. "Is he okay?"
"He's fine," Sirius grunted. "Just being a prideful bastard."
"Says the pot of the kettle," Hermione smiled over the edge of her glass. Sirius rolled his eyes, but smirked back at her. "You know if you want to go up, that's okay. You don't have to keep me company. I know you have work tomorrow."
"Godric, don't remind me. Why does the weekend have to end?"
Hermione laughed, moving toward Sirius to loop her arm around his waist and cuddle into his side. "Maybe you should just quit and stay home with us forever."
"Maybe I should." He rested his head against hers as they stood in the soft light of the kitchen. Hermione sipped her wine and Sirius drank his whiskey, and it was quiet and calm. Sirius watched the clock on the wall slowly tick away the seconds as if it was counting down the moments he had left with Hermione in his arms.
December 1978
The Shrieking Shack
"Antonin says hello."
Hermione looked up from the book she was reading to see Regulus pulling the lopsided door to the shack closed behind him. She raised an eyebrow as she climbed to her feet, setting the book down beside her bag.
"I don't know what it is," Regulus laughed. "But you intrigue him for some reason."
"I can't imagine why." Hermione smiled while fighting a shudder. She'd chosen to meet Regulus at the Shack instead of in the village today mainly to avoid seeing the Russian wizard again.
Regulus laughed in response, unaware of the where her thoughts had turned. They both moved forward, pulled, looking over and assessing each other. You're good? You're okay? I'm fine. I'm okay. The questions and answers unspoken and routine. The ritual of it all felt necessary and safe.
"It's good to see you, Granger."
"It's good to see you, too, Rabbit." Hermione smiled as Regulus rolled his eyes and groaned.
"Never should've given you that bloody thing."
"Well it's too late now. But if it's any consolation Sirius keeps teasing me for sleeping with it every night."
The two immediately broke out in matching blushes at all the possible insinuations of Hermione's statement. Eyes darting away, Hermione moved back to pick up her bag from the floor before sitting in one of the faded and torn armchairs. After a moment, Regulus joined her.
"Do you ever have trouble? Coming out here?" he asked. "I assume my brother doesn't know where you are."
Hermione sighed. "You know, I think about it all the time, telling him."
"Don't."
Hermione looked at Regulus and waited for him to explain.
"I—" Regulus picked at the threadbare arm of his chair. "He wanted me to be someone, and I'm-I'm not the man he wanted me to be yet."
"You don't think he'd just want you back in his life?"
"Not with Walburga still in mine." He leaned back in the chair, staring up at the ceiling. "Not when there are people in my life that would want to hurt you. No, telling him would just make him angry, and you and I both know he'd take it out on you. He wouldn't mean it, but you'd get caught in the crossfire."
Hermione was silent in her agreement.
"Are you going home for the holidays?" she asked after a moment. "Do you think we'd be able to see each other? I'm sure I could make time during the week with Sirius at work."
"I'm not going home actually." Regulus gaze drifted out the window looking on to Hogwarts. "Staying at the castle with Yax and Antonin. Narcissa was going to stay as well, but she's engaged and has to deal with everything that comes with preparing to marry a Malfoy."
"Oh, no, right, of course. It's your last year. Of course you'd want to stay with your friends."
"Amongst other things." He sighed. "Mum's upset I'm staying behind. She thinks I'm ignoring my duties to the family—which is completely true but it's annoying she picked up on it."
"Ah, right, if you're at Hogwarts you won't have to attend any, er, meetings."
"That's the plan at least."
Hermione fell back into silence. Her bag sat heavy against her leg, laden with books on ancestral blood magic. Her thoughts chased themselves.
"—you?"
"Sorry, what?"
"Nothing. It wasn't important." Regulus examined her for a moment. "Are you okay? You seem—like before, when you first came to Hogwarts and we'd sit in the library. It's like you went somewhere else."
"I'm fi—" Hermione stopped herself, her brows furrowed as she shook her head to clear it. "Sorry, I don't know why I was going to lie. I'm stressed. The-the future has been looming a bit recently, and I sort of think I'm starting to go mad. But being here helps." She reached out to squeeze his hand.
"Is there anything I can help you with? Isn't that why I know? To help you?"
"I—"
"I mean, it's fine if you don't want to talk about it. We don't have to talk about it." Regulus backtracked as a faint blush painting the corners of his cheeks. He moved to pull his hand back, but Hermione held her grip.
"Rabbit." Her eyes open, trusting. "Just making time for me like this is helping. Seeing you is helping. Hearing about you enjoying your last year at Hogwarts. It all helps, I promise."
"But?"
"But nothing."
Silence drifted over the blank space left by the finality of Hermione's statement. Regulus avoided her gaze.
"Does it have to do with me?" He winced as Hermione's hand left his, as though he'd burned her.
"Why would you ask me that?" Her voice was wounded, soft and almost scared.
Regulus took a deep breath before asking, "Is it something I'm going to do that's worrying you?"
"Regulus, stop."
"Granger—"
"I promised you when you asked me. I promised not to tell you your future. That's what you wanted. Have you changed your mind?"
His silence spoke volumes.
"Then don't try to make me break my promise."
"Granger—"
"I'm serious, Reg—"
"Hermione."
"What?" she shouted at his interruption.
"You're crying."
Hermione touched her cheeks, her fingers coming away damp. She brushed angrily at the tear tracks. Regulus reached forward and stilled her hands, holding them between their bodies for a moment then releasing them. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a dark handkerchief before pulling it softly across her cheeks.
"I hate making you cry."
"It's not—" Hermione clenched her eyes shut. "It's not you, Regulus. I'm just trying to find answers that don't seem to want to be found."
"And there's nothing I can do?"
Hermione's heart fractured. She had to laugh. "I don't know what I'm doing, and I hate not knowing what to do. It's not that I don't want to talk about it or that I don't want your help. I—" She searched his eyes, drinking in his face. "I am so terrified, so terrified I'm going to fail. That I started working too late. That I'm out of time already. I-I—I promised you a choice. I made you that promise, Rabbit, and I'm not going to break it."
"You can tell me. Let me help." Regulus held onto her arms, an anchor in a hurricane. He pulled her into a tight hug like she was at the end of the thread in his chest. "You can break your promise. You can tell me."
Hermione buried her head in the crook of his neck, holding him tight. She focused on the space Regulus took up, the warmth he emanated, the weight of his arms. He was here. He was safe. He was alive. Her fingers tightened.
When she spoke again, her voice was muffled by the wool of his coat.
"If," she began, the words on her tongue already tasting of betrayal. "If you think about it and really consider what it would mean, I'll tell you."
Regulus twitched around her.
"Not today. Not now. I'm serious, you would need to think on it. This is your life, Rabbit. I'm not going to let you fracture it just because I'm frustrated." Hermione pulled herself back so she could look in his eyes again.
He was silent as the moment stretched, and not for the first time did Hermione wonder if Regulus was a legilimens. Not that it would make a difference with her lupine defenses. Not that she actually thought he would try to see her thoughts without her consent. He looked at her a moment longer before his brows furrowed. Defeat clear as day on his face, he deflated.
"Okay."
"Okay." Hermione breathed and sat back.
"I will think on it, Granger," he said gravely. "And if I change my mind, I expect you to keep your end of the deal."
"If you change your mind, I'll tell you anything you want to know." What the fuck was she doing? Hermione's mind reeled. Maybe she was going mad. Tendrils in her mind expanded out, grasping at anything that would ground her back in this moment. Something. Something. Anything.
"So back to letters for the holidays then." Regulus was talking.
Hermione blinked and refocused. Her hands itched. She just wanted to reach out and touch him, to hold and bind him to this moment, this time, this life. It took everything she had just to nod.
"Then back to Hogsmeade weekends after the new year." Regulus nodded to himself. He smiled weakly in an attempt to lighten the mood. "You know I may force you to hang out with my friends one of these days."
Hermione had to laugh at the thought.
"I mean, even a week ago, Corban was saying—"
As he spoke, she listened. She drank in this memory of him here before her, alive, safe. The books in her bag beside her, Hermione's chest bloomed with familiar determination.
She was going to save Regulus. She would find a way. No matter what.
The Shelter
Remus and Hermione sat watching the clock, Sirius rolling his eyes behind them.
"They're coming."
"They might not," Remus said. "We can't expect them to come for every moon."
"They don't have to," Hermione shrugged. "It's a Thursday. They've got work tomorrow. You've got work tomorrow."
"Yeah, well, there's more important things than work, Pup." Sirius walked by and squeezed Hermione's shoulder. "They'll be here."
And like magic, the fireplace erupted in green flames.
"I'm here," a voice called out. "I'm here!"
Sirius squeezed Hermione's shoulder again. "What did I tell you?" He smiled. "Pete, we're in the kitchen."
Hermione and Remus tore their eyes away from the clock to see Peter shuffle into the room. Hermione's nose crinkled, making her eye twitch. Remus reeled back a bit, swiping at his nose. They both sneezed at the same time.
Peter and Sirius looked at them, twin looks of amusement on their faces. Hermione scrunched her nose again.
"Sorry, just caught the oddest smell," she said, eyes drifting as she tried to place it.
Remus sniffed the air, in a move he wouldn't have made had it not been so close to the moon. He inched toward Peter. "Pete, I think it's you."
Peter reddened and sniffed at his coat. Confused, he looked at Sirius who shrugged. "You smell fine to me, mate."
"No, no," Hermione shook her head, blinking. "It's like-like—It smells like magic."
Peter's eyes widened. "What?" He shouldered out of his coat and brought it back up to his nose. "I don't smell anything."
"Give me that." Sirius moved across the room and took the coat from Peter, breathing it in. "Huh, I still don't smell anything. Just smells like you."
"No," Remus eyed the two, cocking his head to the side. "Hermione's right. It's definitely some kind of magic? Are you okay? Did something happen?"
"What? No, I'm fine." Peter looked bewildered and taken aback. "I mean I've just been working all day. Just came from the shop."
"That's got to be it, right?" Sirius looked at the two werewolves. "Something in the shop."
"Maybe. Probably." Hermione eyed Peter, suspicious but she could tell he wasn't lying. "We're likely just oversensitive this close to the moon."
"You feeling okay, Wormy?" Sirius help up his hand to Peter's forehead.
"I'm fine," Peter swatted at Sirius. "Really. I guess embarrassed now that my friends think I smell."
"Hey, in a couple minutes they'll be trying to chase their own tails," Sirius laughed. "It all evens out."
"Actually, though," Peter looked around the kitchen at his friends. "I did want to see if you all were available for Sunday night dinner. I'll host."
"Sounds like a plan," Hermione offered, earning a smile from Peter. She looked at her housemates who nodded back. "We'll be there."
"Great." Peter looked, in an instant, more at ease. His eyes brightened. "I'll ask James, too, when he gets here."
"Speaking of which," Remus turned back to the clock on the wall. "I think we should go on and head out. It's almost time."
Hermione continued to look at Peter, looking for a sign, a change, something. Was she missing something? She looked back at Remus, but he was already moving to the front door.
"Er, but what about James?" Peter asked. Remus and Hermione met each other's gaze, a lingering sadness there.
"What about me?"
Four heads turned to see James Potter leaning against the wall behind them. Grins broke out across faces. Remus smiled.
"How long were you waiting for someone to notice you?" Sirius smirked.
"Long enough to strike this pose," James laughed before shouldering past Sirius to head to the front door. "Had to blow my own cover 'cause you lot seemed intent on having two full grown werewolves shift in your kitchen." He held open the front door to let the pack through, throwing his arm around Remus, the last one to exit. "Thought I'd miss this?"
"You cut it pretty close." Remus shrugged before slinging his arm back around James.
"You say pretty close, but I say right on time." James smiled. "Fidelitas supra omnia, brother. I'll always be here when I can."
In these woods, they were children again, running around under the light of the moon. There was no war here. It could not touch them. Not here where they ran and chased and wrestled and played. Under the light of the moon, they could let go. They found the core of themselves, the core of their friendship. The tight knit magic that held them all together.
Here, they were children. Here, they could be safe and happy and free. They were together, and something in the world shifted back into place.
Even as the moon set once more behind the horizon, their youth lingered. They protected the magic with ritual as they tended to their wounds with a familiar red towel and a cheap bottle of fire whiskey. The morning aches and pains slowed time just enough for them to savor the moment, to cling to the feeling. And as they parted as adults, off to a day's work and struggle, the magic lingered with a promise to return. There would always be another month, another moon, and they could find themselves back where they could be children, back where they'd find shelter.
Potter Manor
The end of the year had barreled toward them, days passing like water slipping through fingers. They found themselves gathering at the Potters' on Christmas Eve, not unlike they had a year before. But of course, this time was different.
There was no large party. No Dorea and Charlus at the door to greet their friends. No catered food, no dance floor. But still they gathered.
James and Lily had cooked all day. Peter brought a few bottles of wine so fancy they took turns trying to pronounce the names. Marlene and Dorcas showed up hand in hand, and Hermione had convinced both Sirius and Remus to shave. They all dressed up, too. They were celebrating after all. They didn't need a crowd or passed hors d'oeuvres. They had each other, and that was enough.
They toasted the year, each other, the changes they'd been through since graduating. They sat at the dining room table with manners their parents had only dreamed they'd possess. They smiled and laughed, telling stories and secrets. James sat in Charlus' chair and looked out at his friends, understanding his father a little more. The walls of this house needed these people. It was meant to hold something special.
But the walls couldn't keep out the war. Here, it touched them, leaving a shadow on stories. It lingered in the corners, an unwelcome guest. But it didn't dull the evening; instead, it brought out the light. Every mention of war or trouble came with a concerted effort to fill the night with even more love and light and laughter. Their cups never emptied. The music played on, and they danced, making the most of their night of celebration.
"So this is a thing." James sidled up to where Remus was refilling his drink.
Remus followed his gaze to where Sirius and Hermione swayed together on the impromptu dance floor. They held each other close, eyes closed and heads bowed. Remus looked away a moment, feeling like he intruded. He looked back at James who raised an eyebrow.
"It's a thing," Remus said.
"How long?"
"A while."
"And you're okay with that?"
"Yeah, I'm okay with it." Remus nodded and smiled despite himself. "I-I haven't talked to her—or him—about it, but it's good. For both of them."
"I know I asked you once before, but do you like her, Remus?"
"I—" Remus blushed and looked back at Hermione and Sirius.
"It's Moony, right?" Remembrance dawning in James' eyes.
"She's my pack." It was all he could think to say to explain his feelings. Remus looked at James to see if he understood, relief flooding when his friend nodded.
"And you want to protect her."
"I want her to be safe and happy more than I want those things for myself. But it's Pup, you know? And Padfoot." Remus laughed. "There's no stopping either of them, bloody stubborn creatures. So I'm just letting things happen. I'm not getting involved."
James smirked. "And how's that going living with them?"
"They're not—" Remus sighed and cocked his head to the side as they watched Hermione and Sirius dance. "They're not like you and Lily. They're both really damaged. It's—They're a thing, sure, but if you and Lily are a fire, they're barely an ember."
"How poetic."
"Fuck off," Remus laughed again. "You know what I mean. They're taking it slow. Really slow, but I think that's good. I think—I think they're trying to avoid any pain."
"Getting hurt?"
"No, hurting each other."
"Peter, come help me!" Lily pulled Peter away from the group and headed toward the kitchen. "I swear this lot goes through wine like nothing else."
"Pretty sure Dorcas considers it a food group," Peter chuckled.
Lily laughed and bumped his shoulder. "Come on, there's a few bottles left in the kitchen."
They stepped lightly through the hall as if walking on air. Lily found the bottles quickly, but hesitated before handing one to Peter.
"Are you okay?" she asked softly, in the way that made it obvious she truly cared. "Still having nightmares? I wanted to ask at dinner last week, but I didn't want to bring it up around everyone else."
"No, yeah, thanks for that." Peter bit his lip. "I appreciate it. I, uh, I am sleeping, but yeah, still having nightmares."
"Did the Dreamless Sleep help at all?"
"No, it did." Peter put a hand on Lily's arm. "Thank you for that, it really did help when I was taking it. I'd ask for more, but…"
"But it's highly addictive." Lily handed him a bottle. "Have you talked to anyone else about it? You know Hermione used to have bad nightmares back at Hogwarts."
"No, I haven't," Peter said as he started to lead her back toward the party. "I should, I know, but I don't want to trouble anyone with just a few nightmares. I feel bad enough that I've got you worrying over me."
"Peter, you silly thing," Lily smiled at him. "That's what friends are for."
"I know, Lil." He smiled back. "Don't worry about me. I promise, I'm okay. I always sleep better after being around everyone anyway."
Lily let him go and watched him walk back amongst his pack. Like it or not, he would be looked out for. She would see to that. Lily crossed the room to find James, snaking her way around him into his arms.
"Oh hello, Lily," he smiled at her, dropping his head to kiss her cheek.
"Hello, James." She smiled back. "You know, I was thinking—"
"Ooh, I love it when you do that." James pinched her side lightly.
"Why don't we invite everyone to stay the night? We've got plenty of space, right?"
"I think that's a brilliant idea, Lil." James looked around the room before shouting above the music. "Oi, you lot are staying here tonight. As ordered by the mistress of the house. We've got rooms to spare, and in the morning, Padfoot's making pancakes."
"Fuck, if you've got hangover relief, I'll make a full English!"
The group laughed. The music played on. And above it all, Peter met Lily's eyes and smiled.
January 1979
The Leaky Cauldron
They'd tried to set something for the New Year. Someone was always mentioning they should do something special, but when it came down to New Year's Eve, they'd had nothing planned. But the Leaky Cauldron was always open, rain or shine, so they'd piled in and fought the crowd to keep the drinks flowing.
As the year inched closer to its end, Hermione found herself huddled in a corner, precariously seated on a wobbly bar stool. Sirius stood by her, a hand on her knee to keep her from toppling over. The holidays had been a pleasant distraction she'd let herself enjoy. Christmas at the Shelter had been one of the most magical days of her life. The sadness of a second year celebrating in a time that wasn't her own was dampened by the warmth and love of waking up with her boys. Her boys. Merlin, when had that changed to mean Remus and Sirius? Hermione couldn't remember, but she could no longer deny the truth. She was happy here.
"I have something to tell you, Pup." Sirius leaned over to whisper in her ear.
His hands hadn't seemed to leave her since Christmas Eve at the Potters'. They'd danced together, held each other, and when the night ended and everyone scattered to rooms in the manor, she'd pulled him along to follow her. Walking through familiar steps, he'd helped her out of her heels and into bed, posing like he'd sleep in the chair until she protested. And like before, he'd readily accepted his defeat and climbed in beside her. This time, however, she let him hold her, content to let him pet her hair and stroke her side until they fell asleep.
She'd been serious when she'd said she wanted to take things slow. She may have accepted that she wanted to be here, in this time. But moving forward with Sirius was different, she knew that. Even still though, she couldn't deny that a part of her, a strong part of her, reveled in the weight of his hand on her thigh.
"You're the first to know." Sirius pulled back and gave her a wide grin. She smiled back at him as he glanced around to look for their friends, turning back to her with a flash of nervousness striking his face. "I'm quitting."
Hermione blinked. "What?"
"I'm leaving the DMLE." He avoided her gaze to grab his drink from the bar. "Already put in my two weeks' notice."
"You're not going to be an auror?" Hermione didn't know what to say. In truth, she wasn't exactly surprised. She knew she hadn't remembered Sirius having a job, but knowing him now, well, things were different.
"Yes, Pup," he looked back at her with a clenched jaw and eyes begging for understanding. "I'm not going to be an auror."
Hermione reached out to place a hand on him, stilling the arm lifting his glass back to his mouth. "I'm not judging, I promise."
He sighed. "I know. I know."
"Just talk to me." She cocked her head to the side. "Why do you want to leave?"
"I mean, I'm not actually doing much." A faint blush, whether from talking or drinking, painted his cheeks. He started to ramble. "And I don't need to work, even just with Alphard's gift. And one day I'll start working on getting my inheritance out from under Walburga, but that's more to piss her off than actually needing it. And-and now I'll have more time to get involved with the Order."
He continued on with reasons popping into his head to justify the move. Hermione nodded, supportive if not a bit confused in her feelings. A part of her did want to see Sirius see it through, to be responsible for his choices, but more than that she knew she just wanted him to be happy. She didn't want to watch him spend these years doing something he didn't want to do.
"What about James?" she asked. They both looked over to where the other Marauders were talking and laughing. "Does he know?"
"Not yet." Sirius looked back at her. "But after the New Year, I'll tell him."
"I didn't think you kept secrets from each other."
"Not a secret, Pup. Just news that can wait."
Hermione nodded, leaning in. "I support you, you know I do. If working for the aurors doesn't make you happy, don't waste your time. You deserve to be happy."
"Thanks," he grunted, taking a sip. He looked back out at the crowd of the Leaky, eyes glazing as he fell into his thoughts, unaware of the effect of his words on Hermione. "I just want to be close to my family. To you. With everything that's going on, it just feels stupid to spend most of my time away at the Ministry. I just want to be with you."
Hermione made a little squeaking noise, knocking Sirius out of his head. He blinked at her, registering the words he'd spoken.
"I know, I know." His lip quirked up and he leaned forward to rest his forehead against hers. "At your pace, Pup, but I'm all in. I get it, and I understand. I'm not pushing for anything from you. I just—I just want to take care of you." He laughed lightly, sitting back. "And Remus, if he'd stop putting up a fuss."
"I—"
"Ten!" Voices started to swell around them.
"Nine!"
"I—"
"Eight!"
"Just let me take care of you, Pup. Please."
"Seven!"
"Six! Five! Four!"
He reached out a hand, brushing her curls back to cradle her neck. His thumb ghosted the edges of her jaw, and the hand on her thigh had left a wake of molten heat as it ascended her leg. Sirius smiled wickedly.
"Three!"
The champagne on her lips tingled against the latent magic in the air, and looking at Sirius, all she could do was nod.
"Two!"
"Anything you need, Pup."
She could feel the gold sparking in her eyes as they burned, hooded under her eyelashes. Her lips parted.
"One! Happy New Year!"
And he was kissing her. Like the room around them didn't exist. Like she was a tether, an anchor. He was hot and insistent against her, though his lips were soft and inviting. His hand dove into her curls as he pressed into her. Hermione couldn't help but let out a soft whimper as she craned her neck to meet him. Sirius squeezed her thigh and slowly, reluctantly pulled away, his eyes dark and heady. The noise of the room returned in full force, but not before Hermione caught his words.
"I think this is going to be a good year."
From: Dahlia Evans
To: Lily Potter
Lily,
Happy birthday, darling! Thank you for coming to see me yesterday. I'm glad we got to celebrate, and I hope you're doing something special today. You only turn 19 once after all.
I'm endlessly proud of you. And you and I both know your father is, too.
I know you're stressed from work and the tensions in your world. And as much as I want to put the brave face on for you, I'm scared, too, knowing my baby is in love with a world where some people hate her just for who she is. I'd be lying if I said I didn't wonder some days if your father and I made the right decision in letting you go off to Hogwarts, but I know it's where you belong. As much as I don't understand, I know that much.
But Lily, you've got to keep reaching out. I can see you are struggling trying to balance it all, and you don't have to! That's why you have me and James and your friends. Reach out, love. Petunia will come around, I know it. And Severus? Things may seem different now, but the friendship you all forged in the backyard—making flowers fly and discovering your magic, like you said—that cannot be erased. Keep trying. Keep reaching out. People need you as much as you need them. There is still love there.
And keep yourself safe, for my sake.
I love you. I believe in you. I will support you in any choices you make. I am here for you always.
Growing up is very scary, but I am here.
Mum
The Shelter
It's time.
I can feel the Moon. It's safe, constant. I can breathe now.
Focus. The air smells like change.
Time is picking up the pace.
Run, run, to keep up.
Dark times, coming. Dark times, here. End not quite in sight.
But not alone. Not alone.
Whatever is coming, whatever is headed this way, we'll face it. Together.
Pack.
Prongs.
Padfoot.
Wormtail.
Moony.
Pup.
A/N: *Or They Will Stand Together