Thank you to Dave for once again taking time off his busy schedule to beta this mess of a fic.
Silver
Dog
He'd accepted his death like a child would their bedtime. He didn't want to but it was inevitable.
Sirius had never expected to outlive the war.
Sure there was a vague hope in the back of his mind that he'd survive it, but he'd never actually acknowledged it. He'd given it a passing thought here and there but overall? Not really.
In times like these, it was just easier to accept your own mortality. And yet, when he'd come close to death, he'd found that he'd wanted nothing more than to live.
A clammy hand reached for his left bicep, tracing the jagged scar above his elbow.
He'd died. He was sure of it. If only for a second but he knew he had.
Caradoc insisted he'd just passed out but Sirius didn't believe it.
The sense of peace he'd felt had been far too profound to be mimicked or duplicated.
Death was unavoidable.
There was no reason to fear it. People died every day and not just because of war. Young and old, eventually, everything died.
No one lived forever.
He took a drag of his cigarette as another whimper reached his ears.
Sirius bowed his head, running a trembling hand through his fringe. His foot tapping away as he reached for his flask.
Another cry.
He twisted the cap until a small, engraved arrow pointed at two letters, MW. Muggle whisky.
He didn't know the make or year of it but he didn't care. Knowing his uncle it would be a vague, expensive drink. Brewed once every three hundred years by some secretive organisation with a highly hush-hush recipe. Either way it was delicious and smooth. The Marauder didn't know how long the refilling charm would last but he fucking wished it was forever.
There was that word again.
For- another cry.
Sirius slammed his eyes shut.
He didn't need this shit.
He just wanted to sleep. Not to drink. Or have to drink in order to sleep.
Peter needed to shut the fuck up.
He was asleep in bed and still the bloke was fucking complaining. All that whimpering and crying- bloody noise was doing his head in.
Pete just needed to man up. Death was unavoidable. There was no stopping it and he- he needed to fucking stop. Crying about it wasn't going to help, he had to know that.
Sirius took deep breaths as the room swam before his eyes. His chest ached. His throat burned.
His eyes clenched tighter at the next cry.
Pete needed to stop.
His head was aching, it was late and he was tired. He just wanted to sleep.
Another whimper. Muttered words. Another cry.
'No ... Please ... don't kill me.'
Pete was begging for his life.
In his sleep.
Anger bubbled in his chest. Fucking infuriated him and he stood. Reached for his hoodie and aimed for the door.
Wormtail was staying across the hall, if only for the night.
He knocked on the door and called his name, but no answer came.
Pete just kept crying and after several seconds of debate, Sirius pushed open the door.
'No ... No ... I'm sorry. I'm sorry...'
The bloke was twisting and turning, entangled in his own sheets as he squirmed. He could see the moonlight glistening off his sweating forehead, tears running down his face.
'No... don't hurt them... please...'
'Pete,' he whispered. His voice thick. 'Wake up.'
Wormtail just kept crying.
'Mate, wake up now.'
More crying and whimpering and sleep-muttered words met him. It made his gut ache and he clenched his fists.
'Pete. Wake up,' he said, his frustration building. Sirius moved next to him, shaking him as he spoke. 'Pete.'
'No,' moaned Wormtail as he clutched at himself and began to rock. 'Not my mum. Please, please...'
'Pete!' he yelled with a hard shake and the rat animagus' eyes shot open.
Wild and rolling eyes met his. A wand was pulled from beneath a pillow and he had just enough time to duck before a neon green spell was fired off, hitting the wall behind him with an echoing blast.
'Wha-' said Pete before an ear-splitting siren rang out around them.
Both Marauders covered their ears. Dazed and wondering what the fuck was going on when Pete's door flew off its hinges.
Sirius reached for his wand but panicked the second he realised he'd left it in his room.
He cursed his stupidity just as Pete pushed him aside, trembling wand raised.
Grey eyes darted to the dark figure stood in the doorway. A spell was fired and he dropped to the floor, head covered as spells soared overhead.
There was yelling and someone was screaming. Flashes of light painted the walls and Pete was moving past him. His feet retreating as the figure moved closer.
A bang, a flash and it was over.
Pete shouted. There was a thump and the room lit up, blinding him.
He clutched at his head. His body trembling with the sudden rush of adrenaline.
He wanted to look up.
But ... he couldn't.
His body was stiff. He couldn't move and he suspected a spell but dismissed the idea when his clawed fingers pulled on his hair.
He couldn't move and he was going to die.
He was going to die on the floor, covering his head. Wandless and defenceless. He was going to die.
Pete whimpered. Someone was yelling and he heard it all through the rush of his heartbeat, thrumming in his ears.
He couldn't breathe. His lungs weren't working right and he was too hot and he. Couldn't. Breathe.
He sat up, not aware that he was doing it.
Sirius pulled at his sweatshirt. The hoodie tight around his neck. The heat of it was suffocating him and he tried to get it off but he couldn't.
His chest tightened. His vision blurred. His hands were shaking and his throat hurt.
'Quiet!'
There was a flash and a bang and he shuddered. His back hit the bed and he swallowed thickly. Heaving through the moment as he fought the urge to run.
Sirius blinked his eyes open and turned his head. More of a lolling action, it swayed towards the room's doorway.
Mr Potter cut an imposing figure.
Wand steady, his eyes swept the room before landing on him.
Sirius swallowed the lump in his throat. His breathing ragged. Head pounding.
'Transform,' ordered the older wizard.
He heard the words but they made no sense. Again Mr Potter repeated his command.
'Transform. Now!'
Sirius frowned at the man, eyeing his wand. The tip was glowing purple and... he didn't understand.
Transform? Into what? What did he mean?
And then it clicked. Slowly, carefully, he understood.
Grey eyes studied the wizard before him.
He knew about the Marauder's being animagi.
Mr Potter's wand flared and tendrils of purple lighting, crackled around the tip. The spell ready and willing.
Sirius stood. His legs shaking, knees weak. He didn't look away from the powerful man before him.
Ripples of magic vibrated across his skin. A glowing warmth that began in his gut and moved outwards as the world shifted before his eyes. Colours bled themselves into shades of grey and the sickly scent of fear overwhelmed his senses.
It was everywhere. He smelled it on Pete, whose whimpers pierced his ears and he smelt it on Mr Potter as well.
The older wizard's eyes grew wide for a second before moving past him. His echoing words moved over him and he found himself inconvenienced by the sudden growl the wizard let loose.
He lay on the floor as a yawn escaped him. Instinct telling him that sleep was preferable to all this nonsense.
He lay on his side and shut his eyes before the a familiar smell reached him.
He sniffed and shook his nose, covering it with a paw as the smell of rat reached his snout.
Padfoot turned to look behind him just as a furry thing ran across the room and hid under a chest of drawers.
A laugh echoed across the room and his tail wagged at the sound.
The black dog stood, grey eyes on the man approaching and he ducked his head.
Mr Potter knelt, studying him. Grey eyes, usually a vibrant hazel, roamed over his form. A cautious hand touched his fur and moved over his head.
'Figures you'd be a bloody dog,' he said. He gestured towards the door with a nod of his head. 'Go show Phemmy, she's wondered what you'd look like for ages.'
A huff and he moved towards the door.
Sudden squeals reached his sensitive ears. Cries of fear and pleads for help. Incoherent as they were, he understood their meaning perfectly.
Wormtail didn't want him to leave. He wanted him to stay.
But he couldn't.
Instinct told him to leave. His humanity told him to stay. Peter needed him.
But it was too much.
Sirius couldn't take it. Padfoot wanted no part of it.
It was all too much and he was tired. Guilt pulled at him as he walked out the room and it followed him as Wormtail's screams rang in his ears.
'It's okay Peter,' said the soothing of Mr Potter. 'Just come on out. It's okay.'
His feet guided him to the darkened corridor that led to the family wing.
Sudden light blinded him and he whined. A gasp and the hall lit with golden light as the sconces burned with white and grey fire.
'Oh fucking hell,' breathed the witch. Her wand arm falling beside her.
She took a step forward, watching him as he trotted by and pawed at the door. Mrs Potter stood frozen for a second before she darted down the hall without a backwards glance.
'Fleamont!' she shouted, her voice panicked.
Her scent of fear lingering on his nose. Another sniff as he pawed at the door and it swung open.
Lily stood before him, wand aimed at him. Her mouth open and eyes wide.
'Oh my God,' she said. Eyes darting to the wizard lying in bed.
'Padfoot,' said James, his voice cracking. 'What's going on?'
That same sickly stench filled the room and he changed back before the odour overwhelmed him.
His magic vibrated and his bones tingled and Lily sat back on the bed with her mouth gaping.
'Holy shit,' she breathed. 'It's true. You fuckers actually did it.'
Sirius ignored her, grey eyes on his best friend whose worried face stared him down.
'Everything's fine,' he said. Pete,' his voice catching at the name. 'He- he had a nightmare.'
And it was that simple wasn't it?
He'd had a nightmare.
It was that easy explain away and that hard to justify.
He ignored the guilt he felt and pushed it aside. It wasn't the time to think about these things. Not yet.
Maybe once the war was over. Maybe then he'd think about it all. Right now he had to swear at James.
'What the fuck is your problem?' he asked James as he began to frown. 'How many people did you tell? We'd bloody promised! Fucking sworn not to say shit and here you are telling mummy, daddy and your bird.'
The stag animagus clenched his jaw as his features turned hard. 'I had to tell them,' he said. 'Otherwise you wouldn't have been allowed in the house.'
He paused. Sirius hadn't known what to expect but that sure as hell wasn't it. He blinked shaking his head.
He licked his lips and thought over James' words. Yeah, it didn't make sense.
'He's telling the truth,' Lily said but he ignored her.
He had nothing to say to her and this was none of her business. Evans didn't have a damn thing to do with this.
It was between James, The Marauders and a broken promise.
They'd sworn as kids not to tell. Ever. And until now, only Remus' parents had known. And only because a worried Hope had needed reassuring that Remus had real friends.
And now the Potter's knew. And Evans fucking knew.
'Explain,' he said. Eyes trained on a defiant James.
'He had to do it Sirius.'
'Shut the fuck up!' he shouted at her. Eyes darting to the witch. 'Stay the fuck out of it. This has nothing to do with you. I'm not talking to you, I'm talking to him!'
The redhead stood, green eyes glaring. Her mouth opening to respond but James' voice cut her off.
'Don't fucking talk to her like that,' he growled. Hazel eyes boring into his own. Prongs shifted in his bed, sitting up further. 'I had to tell them-'
'-He really did...'
'Lily,' he said, turning to the witch. His tone brooking no argument. 'Stop it.'
Evans bristled, like she had any fucking right to be upset. As if this involved her somehow. If she didn't like it, she should've just stayed the fuck out of it.
The pair watched each other. Some type of argument flowing between them and finally Evans looked away and stormed out. The door slamming behind her.
Sirius snorted at the melodrama of it all. Damn witch had the nerve to be in everybody's business but the second you told her off for it, she became the victim.
Stupid bitch.
'Mum and Dad didn't want anyone to leave the house,' started James. 'Dad's been paranoid after he found me. Keeps expecting an attack. And when he found out that you lot have been in and out of the house, he got worse. What if they got to us through you?'
It hurt. The implied mistrust bothered him more than it should have. He wasn't family, he was a liability.
He was a Black.
'It's nothing to do with you,' James hurried to say. 'It's just... Dad's worried. Mum's scared. They closed down the Manor, you know they have. They did it long before I got hurt. All the doors were closed, only one Floo works. They stopped receiving owls. Fucking hell, even Batty has a Portkey to get in and out of the house. And Mum and her are seriously close. Hell, only one of the house elves are allowed to leave.' Prongs shook his head. 'When Dad realised you three were coming and going as you pleased ... Wanted you to either stay in or stay out. Said he needed definitive proof to know it was you and not some Polyjuiced impersonator. Everything I said was pushed aside and dismissed. Nothing was good enough. No secret was big enough. He didn't think there was any way to tell for sure that you were who you said you were. I got frustrated and it slipped out. He thought I was lying. Mum and Lily did too but they gave me the benefit of a doubt. I didn't mean to tell them but I'm not sorry for it either.'
Sirius clenched his jaw as he shifted from one foot to another.
He still didn't like it.
James, if what he said was true, was justified in what he did. But he'd still told.
Granted, it'd been a childish promise borne out of loyalty and friendship, but it'd mattered. Realistically, there was no reason to think it would've always stayed between the four of them.
Wives would've eventually come into play. Relationships much bigger than a friendship would've become a priority and keeping secrets between friends wouldn't have been as important.
Still, it'd been a promise. One that his fifteen year old self had valued. At twenty-one, he now realised that was foolish but it still hurt.
They'd lost the map. They'd stopped running under the full moon and now their last secret had been told.
Everything that'd made them the Marauders had gone.
It was ridiculous really. Friendships grew and changed and he didn't talk to anyone from his Hogwarts days anymore. Only the Marauders, Marley and Lily.
So it was stupid that he'd expected them four to never change. Now that it was painfully obvious that he had, it made his chest hurt.
What were they if not the Marauders?
'You shouldn't have told,' he said and left the room.
The weight and feel of the wand was strange and foreign.
It'd been too long since she'd owned one that it felt surreal. Like the hand holding it wasn't hers.
'Are you sure?' she asked again, studying the worn wood.
'Absolutely.'
Hermione shook her head. 'I don't know Batty.'
'You may as well love. It's been locked up for years, unused. Doesn't respond to me anymore and you need one. Times aren't exactly safe in case you haven't noticed.'
Two sets of eyes moved towards the newspaper on the tea table between them.
Ministry Confirms: Twenty-eight Disappearances This Week, No Leads
'We can't afford to have you wandless.'
'Dumbledore-'
'Told me not to arm you. Which is why I did.'
She was tempted but she'd gone so long without one that it'd become a new normal but-
'My magic.'
Batty leant against her chair, propping her feet on the coffee table. 'It'll come... Go on. Give her a try.'
The older woman waved a hand and fire bloomed from her palm. A flick of her fingers and the flames moved to the candles before them.
Hermione measured the weight of the wand.
It was the length of her forearm. A golden brown with runes engraved into the wood. She recognised a few: Knowledge, Power, Hope.
'What's the core again?' she asked.
'Dragon heartstring. It stopped working for me after my husband died. Ollivander said his slow death had changed me.' She shrugged. 'Frankly, I think it was the process itself not his actual death but there you are.'
'It just stopped working?' she asked, frowning.
Batty nodded, rubbing tired eyes with a wrinkled hand. 'Yup. He died and the next day, nothing. Magic went all wonky and it misfired when it managed to work. Turns out I'd changed far too much for it to recognise me. Go on then,' she yawned, gesturing at the candles. 'While we're young.'
She waved the wand and felt foolish- which was soon replaced by a rush of pride as the candlelight wisped into smoke.
Hermione beamed, her surprise and shock morphing into unadulterated happiness. It'd been a long time since she'd successfully cast a spell. On purpose anyway.
'Will you look at that?' said Batty. 'Magic.'
There had been some resistance towards the end though.
Hermione hadn't won it. Nor had it chosen her. It wasn't hard to cast the spell. It'd been easy and natural but the pull at the end served to remind her that the wand held no allegiance to her.
Nothing like her vine wand, which had always been her willing partner. Nowhere near as combative as Bellatrix's had been though.
This wand lay somewhere in between as a cold splash of reality.
'I don't know Batty. Dumbledore gave explicit orders.'
The older witch nodded. 'Yeah, he did and I don't care. You need a wand, so shut the fuck up and levitate a thing.'
Instinct made her reach out with a hand and a book across the room levitated inches off the table.
'That's nice but I meant with the wand.'
Hermione blinked and felt her face flush. She'd already forgotten about the damn thing in her hand.
'It's alright love. You've relied on bits and pieces of wandless magic, but now you have to get used to a wand again.'
Her skin prickled. A rush of heat pooled on her fingertips as the words left her lips.
'Wingardium Leviosa.'
The wandtip glowed and she felt the magic flow towards and connect with the book. It shook and rattled. Moved an inch or so to the left before it bounced off the table and flopped to the floor.
'You flourished too much.'
Hermione nodded her agreement. She'd realised it the second she'd done it.
The younger witch shut her eyes and breathed.
Okay.
'Wingardium Leviosa.'
The book wiggled, moved and slowly it began to rise. The wand pulled a bit to the left and she turned her wrist. Palm up she moved the book back onto the table and felt the wand snap back as it released the spell.
The brunette turned to Batty and caught her watching the wand. Her wand now, she supposed.
'Batty-' she started, unsure about what she wanted to say.
She shouldn't have it but as much as she'd argued over keeping it- she wanted it. But it wasn't hers. And Dumbledore had said-
'Did I ever tell you about my husband?'
Hermione paused, biting her lip. Dark eyes studied the tiny witch before her. Eyes closed, wrinkled hands on her belly.
'No, you haven't.'
Batty hummed. 'His name was Matthew and hated it when people called him Matt. So naturally, I always called him Matt.'
A soft smile pulled at the older witch's lips but it never fully formed.
Light green eyes opened and peered at her. She raised a hand and waved at her. 'Get on with it.'
'Incendio,' she murmured, wand pointed at the candles.
The wand sparked but the spell fizzled. She felt it in her wrist. Like someone had grabbed it and pulled- a quick hold and release. A jolt of magic with no result. She'd felt it though, bubbling beneath her skin, rushing towards her fingers and down the wand before it'd faded away.
Hermione licked her lips and sat up straighter, glaring at the wand in her hand.
'We met in Los Angeles during a Magical Historical Committee to discuss the safe removal of magical and historic artefacts from Muggles round the world. He spearheaded the campaign. I opposed it.'
'Why?' she asked before thinking.
Batty didn't open her eyes as she spoke. 'Because he was wrong and I was right. Put more juice in the wording. '
'Incendio,' she said louder and again, she felt the spell gather momentum before fading away.
'Matt insisted that it was for the safety of Muggles that we remove artefacts from their possession. I, of course, knew better. If the magical community discovered that rich Muggles held important artefacts, regardless of believing them pretty but useless, how many witches and wizards would've hunted these Muggles down?'
She almost argued the point that the large part of the Wizarding world wouldn't really care. Short of the artefact being a relic of some powerful witch or wizard, no one would be interested. But then, her mind whispered, some would.
Voldemort.
He'd travelled to Albania in the strength of a rumour...
Yeah. Batty had been right.
She lifted the wand once more and this time, the spell worked.
It rushed down her arm, tingling in her fingertips as it moved the length of the wand. The three candles before her danced with flames.
'Matt argued that it was dangerous. That Muggles could accidentally find a way to activate the magic. I called him an idiot. Muggles could no more figure it out than we can find a way to get to the moon.' She waved an airy hand, chuckling as she did. 'He got so mad. Right then and there, in front of hundreds of the world's leading historians, we argued. He told me to stick to the kitchen, I told him to stick it up his arse. He called me obscene, I called him a knobhead. He didn't understand what that meant, he was American, but he sure as hell got insulted. My tone was unnecessary apparently.'
The younger witch smiled as she blew out the candles with a flick of the wand.
'How did you two manage to get married?'
Batty opened her eyes and sat up straighter with a yawn. A white eyebrows arched. 'Bitch, if you wanna know, you gotta work for it.'
With a pointed look at the wand in her hand, Batty reached for the tea beside her. 'Try Accio.'
Hermione pointed at the remote control atop the telly. She focused on it and it alone. Said the word and felt the warmth of magic moving through her, concentrated on it and- nothing.
It didn't work. The remote wiggled and didn't move anymore.
The brunette sighed as she leant against the cushion at her back.
'Once more love.'
She flicked her eyes to Batty who watched her with a calm that she herself did not feel.
She felt stupid.
Having to relearn all of this was embarrassing. Insulting. Demeaning.
Batty seemed to understand.
'I had to practice magic after Matt passed too. I know you feel embarrassed but get over it. You have to do this and there's no point in wallowing over it.'
Hermione focused and raised her wand. The word left her lips with ease and she sat up when the spell pulled the remote a few inches in her direction, before falling.
'He was much older than I when we married you know. I was twenty four, he was forty-eight. I was literally half his age... his affliction started to show ten years into the marriage. It started off simple. He'd forget the names of little things and he'd laugh it off. And then one day, he'd misplaced his wand. Couldn't find it. He was frantic and when I looked at him, I sort of froze- he'd been holding it. Mediwizards and Muggle doctors said it was just age but I know it wasn't that. Look at me, my tits are old and saggy and I'm still kicking... Whatever it was, eventually, he stopped being able to function on his own. Then one day, I looked at him and he didn't recognise me. He wasn't my Matt anymore, just the shell. I took care of him until he passed and on the day of his burial,' she nodded at the wand in Hermione's hand, 'It stopped working. At fifty-two, I had to relearn all the magic I'd known. Like a damn first year. So don't feel stupid over it. Shit happens love and sometimes, you have no choice but to fucking deal with it and move on.'
The remote flew into her waiting hand with the whispered incantation. Her previous question bursting from her mouth.
'How did you go from fighting to married?'
Batty's tinkling laugh rang across the room. 'I proved his argument wrong. In front of the entire committee, I made him look stupid and it turns out he'd liked that. That night, he knocks on my door and falls on bended knee. I pointed that wand at his face and told him to fuck off. He asked again, argued his case and after several seconds of consideration, I agreed. Figured I could do a lot worse. Unmarried, opinionated young woman who didn't want kids... no man would've admitted to wanting me. Turns out he'd never married because the women he'd always come across, did as told. As he put it, fuck it, why not? He took me to his priest and requested that he marry us as soon as possible. The Muggle refused so I lied about being pregnant. He married us a few minutes later, after seven hours of having met each other.'
Hermione gaped at the older woman. 'Batty!'
Said witch shrugged, yawning as she stood. 'Not everything has to make sense for it to work love. Especially when certain kinds of magic are involved. Oh fucking hell,' she groaned, her hands reaching for her lower back. 'I'm getting too old for this standing crap. Should just bloody well stay in bed all day.'
She watched as the older woman rubbed her back and began to move. 'Don't focus too much on your actions Hermione,' Batty said. 'When you think about it, the spells don't work. When you're distracted, they do. Use that, it could help.'
Hermione sighed, she'd noticed that too. It was hard though. Not concentrating made her magic work which was ridiculous and an oxymoron. She had to concentrate on not concentrating. An ache behind her eyes let her know she needed to stop for the night.
The young witch shuffled the wand between her hands, wondering if Batty was absolutely positive she should keep it. Before she could ask however, Batty left the room with a muttered goodnight.
Her mouth fell open, a calling cry dying in her throat.
Batty said the wand was hers now. Insisted on it and she honestly didn't want to question it any more than necessary.
Dumbledore... they'd deal with him when the time came. His disapproval wasn't going to go anywhere.
She raised her wand and just as quickly dropped it. She felt exhausted. A deep heaviness in her bones that had nothing to do with sleep or physical exertion.
Bed was in order but she didn't want that either. Nor did she want to go upstairs.
She wanted a walk.
Hermione gathered up her jumper and walked out through the garden door. Her personal alarm system was only rigged to the house, she and Batty had found. As long as she left through the garden, the alarms wouldn't activate.
Batty had wondered if it'd been an actual oversight on Dumbledore's part, or there by design.
She on the other hand, hadn't really cared.
Hermione was now resigned to a life of careful study. As long as she was safe, she could deal with the rest.
The witch drummed her wand against her thigh, as the autumn air stung her cheeks.
October was three days away.
Ten months she'd been stuck in the past and though it'd been against her will... she'd now accepted it.
This, here in Godric's Hollow, with Batty and Hooky- it was home.
She missed her mum and dad. Harry and Ron. The Weasley and all those she'd cared for. They were there, if not physically.
They'd been her purpose, once upon a time. And maybe that was the reason why she'd been unable to let go sooner rather than later. Keeping her loved ones safe had been her job. Without them... she'd been lost.
Hermione turned the corner and cut through the graveyard.
She needed to focus on herself now.
Her mum and dad would've wanted that. So would Ron and Harry.
They would all want her to have a happy life. To live and not wallow in a past that would no longer be her future.
Unfortunately for her, she didn't know what that entailed and that was the terrifying part.
The witch left the graveyard without a backwards glanced. Her booted feet guiding her towards the bridge.
What could the future hold for a time-traveller?
She didn't know but- Hermione stopped mid-step. Eyes wide, she took a step back, stopping atop the curved centre of the bridge. Fear gripped her, tightened her chest at the sight of the large dog but it just as quickly faded away.
Hermione studied Padfoot.
His coat was longer, darker and he looked far healthier than she had ever seen but she recognised him nonetheless.
His thick and glossy fur, a dark contrast to the moonlight shining around him. His tail dropped, wagging slowly as his ears twitched in her direction.
Beautiful, knowing grey eyes watched her.
Her lips curled. Pulled at her the corners of her mouth as her heart raced.
He moved. Watched her and tilted his head.
Hermione licked her lips, unsure about what she should do. Once upon a time, Hermione would've talked to him but in this time, she wasn't meant to know about him.
The dog animagus whined and growled and she took a step back when it sat on its haunches and suddenly stood.
Fur receded into skin. Ears shortened, a snout became a nose and as his limbs elongated into arms and legs, Sirius was there. Walking towards her and joy at seeing him after weeks and days of absence, bloomed in her chest.
He smiled, walking towards her. A soft smile on his lips.
The Marauder stopped, mere steps away from her. Their heights even, now that they were on uneven footing.
Light eyes studied her features and she drank him in, his smile brilliant.
'Hey,' he said. His voice a soft whisper. 'Fancy meeting you here.'