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.
Chapter 68: Rosas Et Spinas*
14 February 1979
The Shelter
"Moony's got dinner, Pup." Sirius pulled Hermione by her hips away from the stove. "Come outside with me. I want to show you something."
Hermione looked at Remus for help, but the Marauder merely shrugged, despite the knowing smile tugging at his lips. Hermione shook her head, but followed Sirius outside. The motorbike had been pulled out in front of the house. Sirius looked from it to Hermione before taking her hand and pulling her forward. Hermione stayed still, letting her fingers fall from his grasp.
"I—" She blinked at the intimating bulk of bike before her. "Do you expect me to ride that?"
Sirius stepped back up to her, grasping her shoulders. "Do you trust me?"
"Of course, but I don't know if I trust that monstrosity." She shook her head despite her feet moving along with Sirius toward the bike.
"I'll be right beside you," he whispered. "I won't let go for a second. You'll be safe with me, Pup. I promise."
Hermione took a deep breath. She looked back at the house where Remus watched them from his post at the door. He smiled at Hermione and nodded, so she nodded back at Sirius.
"You won't regret it." His smile was infectious as he helped her get situated. He took his seat in front of her and pulled her arms tight around his chest. "Don't let go, Pup."
She opened her mouth to answer but all that could escape was a yelp as the motorbike revved to life beneath her. Instinctively, Hermione threw herself closer to Sirius. The rumbling of the bike beneath her thighs matched the rumbling of his laughter under her hands.
They started slowly, to Sirius' credit. He took the dirt path to the far gate of the property. Hermione yelped again when he took his hand off the handlebars to grab his wand to open it. His laughter fell to their wake when Hermione pinched his side in retaliation. Her heart beat like fists against his back, but the wind in her hair felt freeing. And Sirius felt safe. She pulled her cheek to rest against the soft leather of his jacket and closed her eyes to the harsh wind. Her hands, arms, and legs stayed tense and ready, her joints aching at the tension, but a part of Hermione inside fell slack, relaxed.
"How you doing back there?" Sirius called through the wind.
"Okay," Hermione managed, though her hands tightened as Sirius took on a curve in the road.
"Ready for something more?" Excitement saturated his voice.
"I don't know."
"Can you trust me?"
"Of course." Her hands tightened around him again. The motorbike answered in kind as it started beneath her.
"I've been waiting for this."
And Hermione was breathless. She knew what was coming, of course, but as the ground fell away and the sky came down to meet them, she was stunned. The fear of flying crashed in waves against the beauty of the moment and the peace Sirius provided. Her knuckles were white as she clung to him. Sirius threw his head back, delight dancing in his eyes as his face contorted in rapture.
"Isn't this amazing?"
Hermione kissed the top of his head, burrowing for a moment in his windswept hair.
"I'm afraid of flying, Sirius," she whispered. Her voice was smaller than he'd ever heard it.
"Fuck." The word heard more through his skin than through the air. The bike immediately started a steady descent, slow enough that it didn't turn Hermione's already clenched stomach.
Sirius was silent until they touched back down on the ground. He pulled the bike off to the side of the little dirt road and flung himself off, coming to Hermione's side. His eyes were wide and worried.
"Are you okay?" His eyes searched her as if looking for a wound.
Hermione touched his arm to still his mind. "I'm fine, Sirius. A little shaky, but I'm okay. I promise."
"Fuck, Pup, I didn't know." He ran his hand through his hair. "I wouldn't have done that if I'd known."
"It wasn't that bad." She laughed at his responding eyebrow. "I promise. I felt safe with you. I always feel safe with you, but the nerves were still there." She held out her hand to show it shaking between them.
Sirius turned her hand over, lowering his head to kiss her palm before closing her trembling fingers. "I wouldn't have let you fall."
"I know."
"Do you want to apparate back? I can side-along you and then come back for the bike."
"No, no," she smiled. "I don't much care for flying, but I—I think the bike is fine."
"You'll let me know if I'm going too fast?"
"I will." She smiled as he helped her settle against the bike again.
"Just fine, huh?" he smirked as he climbed on in front of her. The engine purred back to life.
"Don't push your luck," Hermione laughed, wrapping her arms tightly around him.
"Wouldn't dream of it." He pulled her back against him and took off again, taking all the care in the world to ensure a smooth ride. His knuckles grew white as he focused on the road ahead.
Hermione still shook behind him, but a smile graced her face as she dared to lean her head back to fall against the wind. Her curls pulled away to play freely. There was a simple magic here.
When they arrived back at the house, Sirius helped her off the bike, silent for once. Hermione's legs were shaky as she rediscovered her footing, but she felt light. With her wild hair and wind-kissed cheeks, she reached for Sirius, and he offered himself willingly. One arm wrapped around his waist, anchoring them both while her other hand reached up, threading itself against his neck into his hair. His pupils blew out and Hermione laughed before pulling him down and claiming his lips.
She held him hard and strong against her until her knees threatened to tumble down. When she pulled away, a matching spark mirrored in their eyes. Like a child at play, Hermione ran back to the front door, Sirius on her heels. As he chased her up to the house, Hermione felt light, a bit like her soul was flying.
22 February 1979
Ancient & Antiquated
In spite of her stress and the days ticking forward in an unending rush, Hermione found herself in no shortage of excuses to try to escape the weight of her worry. She found herself visiting Peter on her off-days from the coffee shop. Something about the shop made her uneasy, but she was determined to keep an eye on Peter, to see what everyone else had missed.
She sat atop a counter, fiddling with a pocket watch that depicted the stars and planets, and cursed herself for not eating before she arrived. Her stomach felt queasy even as she sipped on the tea Peter offered.
As they talked, Hermione watched him, but to her he was the same. A bit tired and stressed, it seemed, but with the war, they all were. She asked him about his parents—they were well. His newest project—he was still fascinated by this golden chalice. She even broached the subject of the Lestrange brothers.
"They haven't been back since last summer." Peter shrugged. "I mean, I'm more than glad to avoid them, but I'll admit I kind of wanted something to come of it."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, I dunno, uncovering some deadly plot they were trying to use the store for?" Peter blushed. "That sounds so stupid saying it out loud."
Hermione smiled. "Not stupid at all." She shrugged, biting at her lip. "I know everyone wants to be doing more."
"I know, believe me," Peter smirked. "It's practically all James talks about anymore. Everyone wants to help, to fight, but it's not up to us."
"Right." Hermione fought to not roll her eyes. "It's up to Dumbledore."
Peter nodded. "And he's trying to protect up. The Order is fighting, but I think he's reluctant to endanger us. I think he still thinks we're too young."
Hermione fell silent. Perhaps no words would be better than anything she could conjure to say. At this point she knew better than to think Dumbledore was protecting the young. No, he was holding them back, letting them rile each other up until they were frothing at the bit. Only when he could ensure they'd be ready to act as perfect little soldiers would he release the gate.
"Enough of the maudlin." Peter huffed out a laugh. "Let's have something happy to talk about, for Merlin's sake. How's the coffee shop? How's working with muggles?"
"Oh you know, it's fine." She set down the little clock and smiled widely at Peter. "It's not much, just part time. It's certainly interesting being amongst muggles all day, but I suppose I haven't really gotten to know anyone very well. It's just—Well, more of an excuse to get out of the house than anything. It's nice to just get out for a bit. To be on my own."
"Why would you want to be alone? You live with your best friends." Peter's voice held a jagged edge.
Hermione's eyes flew to him, brows furrowed in surprise at the sharpness of his tone. "What?"
Peter shook his head, scrubbing his hands over his face. His body deflated. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that." He averted his gaze.
Hermione approached him slowly, putting a hand on the desk to enter his line of sight. "Peter," she said softly. "Are you okay?"
When he looked back at her, something was broken behind his eyes. For the first time, Hermione could see the effects of the war showing themselves on his face. He was silent, but the tension in his lips betrayed his mind. Hermione reached for his hand.
"I—" Peter began, still not meeting her eyes. He shook his head and looked at her. "I haven't been sleeping much at all recently. That's it. My head feels swampy and clouded. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that, I'm sorry."
"It's okay. It's okay." Hermione assured him. A slow fear gripped her. Something was happening here, but she couldn't see a thing. "Why aren't you sleeping, Peter?"
Again he averted his gaze. "Lily mentioned you had nightmares. When you first came to Hogwarts? Did you—Did anything help?"
In the back of Hermione's mind, a flicker left unattended, a memory of fear. Pain. So much pain. Big, great big eyes. Great big golden eyes on fire. Sharp teeth dripping with blood and saliva. A hand instinctively went to her shoulder.
"I did," she spoke as her mind went back to those first days after the bite. The unknown, the panic. But also, a warm, worn hand in hers, the burning scent of firewhiskey, whispers in the dark. "Sirius was there for a lot of it. Whenever I woke up. It-it helped to have someone to talk to, even if we didn't talk about my nightmares. I felt safer knowing someone was there."
As Hermione sunk into memory, Peter fell back beside her, his eyes tired and lonely. She would have Sirius waiting for her. Remus, too. But looking around the store, filled with things of magic and wonder, and even Hermione next to him, Peter had never felt more alone.
"You know I'm here, right?" Hermione's voice broke through. A bit of the fog dissipated. Her hand grasped his, and her eyes were wide and open. "If you ever want to talk about it—nightmares or not—I'll listen. You can trust me."
A cold snake of envy curled around Peter's heart. He smiled weakly back at her. "I know."
24 February 1979
The Shelter
The woods were dark. Hermione couldn't remember how she had gotten there. She turned around where she stood and tried to remember which way she had taken. The bottom of her feet tingled with the brush of the forest floor. She was cold and absentmindedly tried to rub some warmth back into her arms.
A deep growl moved like a wave through the trees. She snapped her head around. Another growl, this time a different direction. Then, a howl.
All of a sudden, she was running and running and running and running. She could feel Pup within her, urging her on, pushing her forward. The trees were growing taller, the sky was growing darker, and the howls were getting closer. The stars in the sky were moving around, darting in and out of each other. Every few seconds, two stars would collide and grow just a bit bigger. The stars collided more and more until they formed a single ball of light, big enough to be the moon.
A crash of thunder. An iron cage enclosed around Hermione, and she fell to her knees. The growling and howling was almost deafening now. Hermione held her hands over her ears and huddled in the center of the cage, too afraid to go near the edges.
A dark figure emerged from the darkness. Swathed in shadows, Voldemort, as Harry had described him, approached her slowly. As he walked, he started to bend forward, his body shifting and breaking in a way all too familiar to Hermione. But this, of course, was different. As Voldemort hunched and fell down into the darkness that surrounded him, a great snake burst forth. His teeth were sharp and shining, and venom dripped from his fangs. Hermione crawled as fast as she could to the opposite side of the cage. She looked out into the night for someone, anyone, but it was too dark.
"Help." A voice, broken and barely a whisper. "Help me."
Hermione blinked, and on the other side of the cage a figure appeared. For a moment, she thought it was Sirius, but no, this was different. Tears fell from her eyes as Hermione realized the figure huddled in the corner was Regulus. She tried to reach him, tried to crawl forward to touch him, but her limbs wouldn't listen. She was stuck. Frozen.
She looked out to see the giant snake reel back and bare its fangs, the hissing reverberating through the air. The walls of the cage shuddered and fell apart, and Regulus was defenseless. Hermione raged against her body, trying to will it into motion, but she couldn't do anything as the snake launched itself at Regulus. She shut her eyes, turning away, heart clenched in agony.
And when she opened her eyes again, she was awake, covered in a light sweat, her heart still racing. This, this had been a silent agony, she knew as neither of her housemates had appeared at her door. The terror that had gripped her in this nightmare had taken her voice as well. Hermione took several deep breaths and reached blindly for her wand to cast a tempus charm.
01:09:09
24 February 1979
The letters and numbers seemed like a countdown she couldn't read or understand. How much time was left? She sat up in bed, wrenching her sheets and blankets away. She was suffocating.
Everything felt up in the air. Hermione was scared. The books and tomes in which she usually found comfort and answers were failing her. And this wasn't something she could give up on. She felt like she was thirteen years old again, chasing rumors and theories, racing to put the puzzle together before she was the next to fall. Hermione reflexively flexed her hands.
But then she stilled suddenly, her body freezing for a moment before she moved to wrench open the top drawer of her bedside table, taking out an ordinary looking galleon. Her eyes, now adjusted to the darkness, focused on the coin in her hand. She gripped it tight to her palm before closing her eyes in thought. When she opened them again, she ran her thumb over the raised edges of the coin, and the face rippled to read out her message.
"I think I need to talk to your uncle."
The coin warmed in response almost immediately. Hermione could have cried.
"Spring holiday?"
"Too far away." Time, time, it would always come down to time.
"I'll write him."
"Thank you." She could breathe again.
"Do you think you can trust him?"
Hermione didn't hesitate in her answer. "At this point I don't care."
"Wish I could be there."
"I'll be okay."
The coin fell cold in her hand. She was touching on reckless, she knew it, but she was running out of places to look. But she wouldn't stop looking, not for a way to save Regulus. It wasn't the safest bet, but at this point, she was willing to take any chance for him. He deserved to be saved.
The coin warmed again.
"I've been thinking out it." The words changed again in quick succession. "Haven't decided, but thinking."
"You don't have to change your mind." Hermione stared at the coin, wishing she could say more. Don't. Please don't. Don't change your mind, Regulus. Stay blissfully unaware. Enjoy your life, enjoy your friends. Don't burden yourself with this.
"I know."
"Good night, Rabbit."
"Sweet dreams, Granger."
Hermione reached for her wand, casting a silencing spell around her room. Setting it back down, she fell back against her pillows, clutching the little black stuffed rabbit. She held him tight to her chest and cried herself to sleep.
A/N: *Roses and Thorns