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 72: Leo et Mus*
4 May 1979
Hogsmeade Village
Out of class. See you in ten.
Hermione grinned at the message as it flashed across her coin before looking back up at Ben. He'd been telling her about his latest date, convincing Hermione more and more that he had finally found the future mother of Anthony Goldstein. She listened to him finish his story before saying goodbye and promising she'd be back to see him soon. And then she took to the streets of Hogsmeade to wait for Regulus.
She'd told the boys she'd picked up extra weekend shifts at the coffee shop, but that she'd probably quit in a month or two. They understood. Violence was spreading in the wizarding world and they all knew it was a matter of time before the Order called on them to fight. A month or two was probably all they had left.
Of course, she'd already quit the job at the coffee shop. It all felt so pointless now. No, instead all of Hermione's waking hours centered on Regulus. What did they need to prepare? How was he dealing with this? When would she see him next? Was he okay?
They messaged each other constantly on their coins, clinging to the fact that they were not alone in this. Hermione had divulged more of the Marauders' secrets about the castle, telling Regulus she could meet him whenever he could get free. Which is why she found herself strolling the streets of Hogsmeade on a Friday afternoon searching for his familiar grey eyes.
The Shrieking Shack
"Do you ever regret befriending me?" They sat in the upstairs bedroom, a packed lunch spread out on the bed. Hermione picked at a sandwich, her eyes cast down.
"You're saving my life, Granger. Why would I regret that?"
"You know what I mean."
Regulus sighed. "No, I know." He ran a hand through his hair. "No. I don't regret it. It's a lot. Probably too much at times, but I don't regret it."
"My other friendships aren't like this."
"No, I should think not." Regulus chuckled. "I don't think I could survive more than one friendship like this. It's—I don't think it's healthy."
Hermione met his eyes. "I know."
"But I don't regret it."
"I don't either."
He smiled at her before falling back against the threadbare blanket. Hermione waved her wand, sending their remaining food to the small table in the room before settling down beside Regulus. They stared up at the broken canopy above them.
"The second I can I'm calling you back, Rabbit," she whispered. "I'm not going to wait any longer than I have to. And I won't steal any more time from you."
He was quiet for a moment. "Thank you."
"I-I don't know how safe we'll be, but I'll do my best."
Regulus was quiet again. She'd told him there was fighting in the future. He knew a war was going on. He just didn't know it was the same war. She kept doing this, mentioning how things would be, how things would change. He knew she was trying to prepare him for the world he would reenter, but a large part of him still didn't want to know the future. So he let her talk, but he didn't ask questions.
"I trust you, Granger."
"I know." She rolled over to look at him. "I know, but I don't trust the world not to fuck with us."
Regulus smirked at her cursing.
"I'm serious." Her eyes narrowed.
"I know. And you're probably right, with my luck."
Hermione rolled back onto her back. "I don't want anything to happen to your second chance. I just want you to be safe, but I don't know that I can promise that."
"I can tell you have more to say, just say it."
"I think we should train. Dueling and sparring. I don't know what your DADA professor is like this year—"
"Absolute dragon shit."
"—but defensive spells can always be improved upon." She sat up and looked at Regulus. "I just—I want to give you your best shot, Rabbit. I hope that all this will be just paranoia and over-preparation, but I won't take that chance with you."
"I know." Regulus sat up. "I know, Hermione." He got to his feet and picked up his wand. "Where do we start?"
5 May 1979
The Shrieking Shack
She came back the next day.
6 May 1979
The Shrieking Shack
And the next.
They dueled for a bit, talked for a bit, tried to plan ahead, but there was only so much to decide. So when they were done, they sat together. Hermione read and Regulus sketched, and when she said goodbye, she knew she'd see him again soon.
11 May 1979
The Shrieking Shack
There were more voices than she'd expected. Hermione looked around the ground floor of the Shack, at the bottles of whiskey and the sloppily decorated cake she'd brought. She looked at the front door and reached for her wand. Seconds from disapparating, she paused only at the sound of Regulus' voice.
"Just, er, wait here a moment."
The door started to creak open and Regulus' body appeared. He'd tried to steal only himself through, but the door had widened enough for Hermione to see exactly who was behind him.
"Rabbit—"
"Okay, okay, I know." He held up his hands. "But they wouldn't let me leave and then insisted on coming with me."
"Rabbit—"
"Hermione." He stepped up to her and reached for her hands. "It'll be okay, I promise. And the second it's not, they're gone. I swear. But it's my birthday. And I want to be with the people I care about."
Hermione looked down at their hands. She was definitely going to cry tonight.
"If it's too much, I'll tell them to leave."
But she could deny him nothing. "It's your birthday, Rabbit. Of course, they can stay."
He squeezed her hands and kissed her cheek before moving back to the door. He turned the knob and opened the door to reveal Corban Yaxley, Narcissa Black, and Antonin Dolohov.
She wasn't drunk enough for this. The Slytherins had clearly started drinking long before they'd reached the Shack and Hermione was woefully behind. But it gave her room to think and consider the three strangers in the room.
Corban kept his distance for the most part. He'd assessed her when he'd first come in, granting her a handshake and a brief introduction, including a dig at the choice of venue, before keeping to the opposite side of the room. It wasn't rude, just wary, and Hermione was grateful for it.
Narcissa on the other hand was surprisingly kind, in a cold sort of way. There was a warmth to her, but she saved that for Regulus and the others. For Hermione, she reserved the kindness she'd been trained in, the kindness that left one almost feeling more lonely. They'd chatted about Hogwarts, about life after leaving. Hermione had made certain not to mention Lucius Malfoy, and Narcissa had offered up no information of her own. And that was fine with Hermione.
Regulus tied them all together enough that this mixture of people wasn't stifling. He bridged the gap with whiskey and music and laughter. They didn't speak of the war or anything outside the swaying walls of the Shack. They weren't there for that. They were there for Regulus.
But just as Hermione had been watching the Slytherins, so too had one of them been watching her. She could feel Dolohov's eyes on her, constantly tracking her around the room. He'd appear to be talking with Yaxley or Narcissa, but Hermione could tell his attention never truly left her. Something in her chest burned. As much as Corban ignored her and Narcissa politely tolerated her, Dolohov was invasive.
"Hello, Птичка." Antonin walked up as she poured herself some more fire whiskey. He took the bottle from her, drinking straight from it as he sidled up beside her.
"What does that mean? Ptichka?"
"It is like little birdie." He smirked at her.
"And is there a particular reason you call me that?" Hermione took a long sip. Something about Dolohov made her want to drink.
"Because the birds, they know things, know what's to come. And they have taught you their language."
Hermione just blinked up at him. From the way Dolohov talked, Hermione couldn't tell if he was speaking in metaphors or not. Even now while he seemed relaxed and calm, an undercurrent of crazed energy rested within him. It was restless and hungry and left Hermione unsure of where she stood.
"What do they tell you?" He was whispering now, the deep timbre of his voice caressing her ear.
Hermione ignored the question and took another long sip. "Do-do you know the language of the birds?"
Dolohov's laugh was quiet but strong. "Нет, no, I don't think they would teach me. I am curious, but I do not blame them. I don't think I should know."
Hermione took another drink, glancing over at Regulus in the midst of a conversation with Narcissa and Corban. Antonin took the time to refill her glass.
"Are you scared?"
She turned to look at him and was captured by his gaze. His eyes were focused, hard, but not threatening. She drained the rest of her glass, their eyes never parting as Antonin poured her more whiskey once again. She was being stupid. She was getting drunk and this was very, very stupid. Antonin's eyes bore into hers, eyes that had haunted many, many nightmares.
Before the dreams of Moony's bite, Hermione had suffered through the nightmares that came after the Battle at the Ministry. Stuck in the Hospital Wing of Hogwarts, she'd relived the moment Antonin Dolohov turned his wand on her dozens of times. But unlike her later nightmares, she never screamed. She never shouted for help. When she dreamt of Antonin Dolohov, Hermione couldn't move. She was trapped under the weight of him centered on the mark he left on her chest and the hardened stare of his eyes towering over her. She would wake gasping for air, forced to wait for her body to let her move again.
It had taken that entire summer to get over the nightmares, and now the object of them stood before her. Those eyes trained on her once more.
"Птичка, are you scared?"
Hermione felt the haze of alcohol coasting over her. These eyes weren't the same. This was not yet the man she would face. And even then, she'd long ago left behind the girl from that battle. She would be stronger now.
"Of what?" Her response made him smile. "Of drinking with a bunch of Slytherins? Hardly?"
Antonin took a lazy sip. "Why are you here?"
"To celebrate Regulus' birthday."
"His birthday is tomorrow."
"I know that." She rolled her eyes. "I could only see him today."
"Did you bring him a present?"
"He said he didn't want anything."
"Did you bring me a present?" He grinned wickedly.
Hermione had to laugh. "Why would I bring you a present?"
"Because I want one."
It was the copious among of alcohol she'd already ingested that pushed her on. "What do you want from me?"
Antonin Dolohov lit up. "Oh, Птичка, you shouldn't say such things to me. You might give me ideas."
"What kind of ideas?" She raised an eyebrow.
Antonin leaned into her side and whispered in her ear, his breath brushing against her skin. "Inventive ideas, Птичка. You give me inventive ideas." He stepped back, a respectful distance between them once again. "You could give me one of your coins."
She wasn't surprised. She's assumed Regulus had told him of their twinned coins.
"Why do you want a coin, Antonin?"
"To talk to you."
This time she laughed. "Why would you want to talk to me?"
Antonin's eyes traveled her face, resting on her scar before dropping to her chest. It wasn't a leer. There wasn't anything sexual about the way Antonin looked at her, but Hermione had never felt so exposed. It wasn't on display, but she fought the urge to cover the faint starburst with her hands. Antonin met her eyes again.
"He cares about you."
"I know."
"He trusts you."
"I know." They both turned their gaze to Regulus.
"I don't trust you."
"The scorpion and the frog, right?"
Antonin nodded. "If that's your story, he is the frog. I know his nature. So, you? Scorpion? What promises have you made?"
"I'm not going to sting him, Antonin." Her eyes never left Regulus. "I love him."
"Oh, Птичка, don't you know?" He brought a hand to her chin to turn her face back to him. "Sometimes you can't resist the urge."
Antonin stepped back and drained the rest of the bottle of fire whiskey. He turned from her and shouted out to the rest of the room.
"Too tame, Лев. We need to liven things up. Come, come, we're playing drinking games now."
Hermione found herself gathering around the lopsided table, shoulder to shoulder with Regulus and Narcissa as Corban explained the rules of a game. Regulus' hand found hers and squeezed tightly.
"You okay?" he whispered in her ear. "You don't have to stay, if it's too much. And with tomorrow…"
Hermione felt Dolohov's eyes again, but she ignored it. She looked at Regulus. How many more times would she get to see him before he stepped through the Veil? How many more moment before she had to wait?
She squeezed his hand. "There is nowhere else I'd rather be right now than by your side, celebrating your birthday."
His smile made it all worth it.
12 May 1979
The Shelter
Hermione's hangover lingered like a weighted blanket around her shoulders. Remus had chided her for being irresponsible, staying out all night with Ben. They hadn't questioned the lies she'd weaved. Sirius had teased her lightly, but she caught a flash of worry and hurt in his eyes. The deception of seeing Regulus never got any easier. Only one more month of hiding. Some tired part of her was more than ready not to have to hide, but that part was shameful and small. The rest of Hermione was already mourning.
It couldn't be helped, her attachment to Regulus. She needed to keep seeing him like an addict needed another hit. She needed to know he was safe and okay. She needed to hold onto him until she had to let him go. And if Sirius was upset that she spent a few days from home, he would have to deal with it. She had chosen him over his brother many times already, though he'd never know. Sirius would be okay. She would make it up to him later. Regulus needed her now.
But today she was theirs. They were all there, all five of them. Godric, it had been a long time since they'd all been together. Was this what adulthood was like? Edging in time with friends while the world passed by in a blur that never quite slowed down?
They chatted like no time had passed, laughed like nothing else in the world mattered. And it truly felt that way. The Shelter lived up to its namesake, creating a pocket in time and space for the pack. It held them close together, protected them from the outside world. It gave them a place to play.
"Sometimes I wish the full moons would last forever."
Four sets of eyes turned in a mix of curiosity and horror to land on Peter. They were gathered under the oak tree beside the cottage, limbs sprawled out as they waited for the moon to rise.
"Pete, what the fuck?" Remus lifted his head from the ground, turning his body to face Peter.
"I mean, not the transformation obviously," he started, shaking his head. "Just this—" He gestured at them all. "—all of us together. Nowhere else to be but here."
Remus shook his head and laid back down. Hermione glanced over at him before leaning toward Peter.
"I get it." And she really did. "Sometimes I feel like we're hiding out here, but I don't mind it. Having you all here? It's-it's like I can breathe and relax."
"Like we're safe from everything."
Hermione looked over at Sirius and smiled back at him. "Like we're safe from everything."
"You lot are mental." Remus sat up finally, busying himself with pulling up a few blades of grass.
"Seriously?" Hermione raised an eyebrow in challenge.
"I mean sure, it's nice we're able to all be together, but that doesn't change the facts of the world. There's still work to do, still a war going on. And the moons? It's not playtime, as much as you all seem to think it is. It's about keeping us from hurting people."
Hermione narrowed her eyes at Remus. "I'm going to excuse a lot of what you're saying as pre-moon anxiety, Professor."
Peter and James shared a look.
"It's the truth, Hermione."
"Doesn't part of you like the full moon? Look forward to it at all?"
Remus' face distorted in shock. "You look forward to it?"
"I mean," Hermione blushed a bit and looked around at the others. "It's painful and always a bit scary, but it's freeing in a way. I get to stop thinking for a moment."
"We're not having this discussion again." There was a finality in his words.
"I'm not asking you to let Moony in, Merlin's sake. I'm just trying to get you to lighten up about the whole situation." She held up her hand to start ticking off her fingers. "We have a warded plot of land that's big enough for two wolves. We have an amazing set of friends who spend their time with us to keep us safe. There is a war going on around us, involving our friends and families, but we get one night a month where we are basically forced to forget it all."
"You don't—"
"I'm not saying to stop being cautious or to stop worrying," she interrupted. "What I'm saying is that people would kill for a night like this with their friends. That we are lucky we are able to all be together like this. That there will be a day when we can't and you will think back to Peter saying I wish the full moons would last forever."
Remus just stared at her. Hermione's chest rose and fell with her breaths as the moment caught up with her. She blinked, realizing what she had just said and winced. She averted her eyes from Remus and waited for his response.
He didn't speak. None of them did, instead exchanging looks and glances over her downturned head. They stared at Hermione as if she had spoken what they had been too afraid to put into words. Remus looked at her, for the first time in months noticing the scar that crossed her the edge of her eye, and he remembered her as she was when she first came to Hogwarts. Beneath the hardened layer of strength. Just scared, alone, and looking for a friend.
Remus moved across the grass and pulled Hermione into his arms. He held her tight and she clenched her eyes shut, refusing to cry in front of her pack. She wrapped her arms around Remus and buried her head into his neck. And Remus held her. He held her until the moon rose in the sky and the itch overtook him.
And for the first time in his life, when Remus started to shift, he welcomed the change.
The rest of May passed much too quickly, that blur that never quite slows down.
Regulus never had a problem with sneaking out of the castle. Hermione suspected this was Dumbledore fulfilling his side of the vow. She just hoped he didn't realize it was her Regulus was meeting and not other Death Eaters. She figured his help might just run out if he knew the truth.
But she took what she could get. Two more weekends in Hogsmeade. Two more weekends of stealing time. Two more weekends of memorizing his face. Two more weekends of talking and sharing stories, of training and fighting. Two more weekends of Regulus.
29 May 1979
From: Hermione Granger, The Shelter, Yorkshire
To: Lycoris Black, Department of Mysteries, Ministry of Magic
Mr. Black,
We've decided on the date.
I cannot comprehend the burden you carry from the Veil, and I ensure you I am not trying to add to it. All that we require is uninterrupted access to the Chamber and—I understand this is the bigger ask—a portkey to the Chamber for the 18th of June, particularly the earliest hours.
Please let me know if you still agree to help us.
I've said it before, but I'll say it a million more times until you trust me. I am trying to save Regulus, and I would do anything to achieve that.
- Hermione Granger
1 June 1979
Slytherin Dormitories, Hogwarts
Regulus twirled his wand in his fingers, waiting. Waiting. It felt like hours, but it must have been only minutes since he last checked. He resisted the urge for a moment longer, but couldn't fight it completely.
"Tempus." He whispered the charm and watched as little gold numbers and letters sprung from his wand.
00:17:02
1 June 1979
The countdown had officially begun. This was the month that Regulus Black would die.
A/N: *The Lion and the Mouse