Chapter 57: Friday, December 5, 1980

"It's dreadful what little things lead people to misunderstand each other."

-Anonymous


Tap tap tap

Hermione groaned, rolled over in her bed and looked up at the clock on the wall. It was just after eight in the morning and she had only fallen asleep not quite four hours ago. She buried her head under her pillow in an attempt to muffle the persistent tapping, hoping that maybe the stupid owl would go away.

Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap

"Remus!" Hermione groaned, "Remus, can you get the damn owl?"

As the words left her lips she realized her mistake. Remus was still gone, he had been out on this assignment for over three weeks now and she hadn't heard from him once.

Haven't heard from him once.

"Shit!" Hermione shot upright in the bed, nearly falling out of the tangled sheets as she peeled herself away from the mattress to get to the window. Perhaps this was a message from him— something to calm her nerves and at the very least let her know that he was alive.

Tap tap tap tap

The owl was furiously pecking at the kitchen window and looked rather cross by the time she got to it. Hermione opened the window, the freezing December air sending a chill down her spine as the owl hopped in, ruffling its feathers and giving Hermione a very annoyed sounding squawk. She untied the parchment from the owl, gave it a piece of a broken biscuit and sent it out, promptly snapping the window closed to lock out the air again.

There was no name on it, so she wasn't sure it was meant for her. But Remus rarely received any mail, only marginally more than she did, herself. And if it was for Remus, Hermione highly doubted he would mind that she opened it. Besides, anything of real importance was generally discussed at meetings or via Floo calls, anyway. She unsealed the parchment, carefully unrolling it as she moved across the kitchen and put a kettle on.

Remus,

Mum isn't doing well, come home soon.

-Dad

Hermione stared at the letter, re-reading the short lines over and over, ignoring the whistle of the kettle as it announced itself from the hob. She knew that Remus' mum had been sick a lot since he was young, and that the muggle doctors had said she had some sort of autoimmune disease. But anything Hermione knew about autoimmune diseases was extremely limited and learned from brief articles in texts that she had read while trying to research more trauma medicine and things that would be applicable in a battle field.

Hermione pulled the kettle off, turning off the heat and moved into the spare room to grab some parchment and her pen. She went back into the kitchen, made herself a cuppa and sat at the table, trying to figure out how to respond. She knew that his parents were aware that the Order existed and that Remus and Hermione were a part of it. Hope had brought it up more than once when they had visited. She also knew that Remus' father, Lyall, had retired from the Ministry but he seemed to stay involved in the political affairs. But, she couldn't very well tell his parents that he was out on a top secret assignment in attempts to bring foreign werewolves into the resistance as allies.

Mr Lupin,

I hope you don't mind that I opened the letter you sent for Remus. He's currently on holiday and unable to be in contact with anyone. If you would see fit, I would love to visit tomorrow afternoon, I can bring lunch.

Yours Truly,

Hermione.

She read over the letter several times, hoping that Lyall would understand that Remus was not actually on a holiday and that he had been sent out on Order business. Hermione was confident he would, but felt nervous regardless. She rolled the parchment up, sealed it and went to get dressed. James and Lily would be more than willing to let her use their owl and she could do with getting out of the house anyway.

When she stepped into the living room at Potter Cottage, she was greeted with the high pitched squealing of Harry as he laughed, Lily's voice shaking with laughter as she said "peekaboo" over and over to him. Hermione hung her cloak and slipped off her boots as she walked into the main of the house.

"Morning, Lily!" Hermione said, instantly feeling more cheerful at the sound of Harry.

"Oh, Hermione! Hello! It's rather early, I wasn't expecting you!"

"Sorry," she said, giving a sheepish smile as she stepped toward Harry, running her fingers over his wild hair. "I came to see if I could send a letter?"

"Yeah, of course. Is everything okay?"

"I got a letter this morning, it was meant for Remus, but I opened it. His mum isn't doing well."

"Oh, no!"

"I don't want to send a patronus to him, he's been gone three weeks, he should be back any time now… But I wanted to respond to Lyall. I'm going to take lunch over tomorrow and check in on Hope, maybe see if there's something I can do for her."

"You've not heard anything from Remus?" Lily asked, picking up a stuffed dog from the table and pressing it to Harry's cheeks while making kissing sounds before handing it to him.

"Not a word," Hermione sighed, her shoulders slumping a bit. "I'm trying not to worry. I know these things can take some time, but this is the longest he's been gone."

"I'm sure Dumbledore's heard something," Lily reasoned.

Hermione shrugged, "If he has, it hasn't been brought to my attention. I understand keeping things quiet, but it's not like Remus doesn't come home and immediately tell us his findings anyway."

"I'm sure he's okay," Lily said. "If Dumbledore thought that he was in danger, I think he would have sent someone out by now. At any rate, once he gets home, he'll be home for awhile I'd wager. Peter's not leaving again until after the New Year, so I can't see Dumbledore or Moody sending Remus or anyone else away over the holidays."

Hermione's mouth twisted to the side as she bit into her cheek, her head bobbing a bit. "Yeah, I suppose you're right."

"Of course, I am!" Lily smiled, "Now, go send your letter and let's have breakfast."


Hermione was certain that Lily must have said something to Sirius about her worry for Remus. The fact that Sirius had been sitting on her sofa since three in the afternoon and looked rather as if he was refusing to move anytime soon, basically proved that someone had decided Hermione needed the company.

"I'm just going to be brewing today, you don't have to stick around," she tried to reason.

"I have nothing better to do."

"Don't you have a godson to teach inappropriate things to?"

"We both know he's not old enough to learn anything yet!" Sirius said, "Besides, apparently he has a check up today, so Poppy is at the house making sure he's growing all right."

"It's a Friday," Hermione pointed out. "Aren't you going to go to the pub?"

Sirius seemed to consider this for moment, looking over the back of the sofa at her and closing the December issue of Home Healers Magazine and tossing it onto the coffee table, "You're right."

Hermione's eyebrows pulled up on her forehead as she looked at him, her tone skeptical as she said "I am?"

"Well, sort of."

She sighed, setting down the knife she was using to chop the frog tongues. "What do you mean, sort of?"

"We're going to the pub."

Hermione burst into laughter, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye as she shook her head. "No. Not a thing that's happening."

"And why not?" Sirius asked.

"I don't go to pubs, certainly not with you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means, Sirius Black, you go to pubs to pick up unsuspecting muggle women to take back to that rubbish bin you call a flat and bed before you even learn their names. I am not going to a pub to watch you leave thirty minutes later with some tart while I stand there by myself."

Sirius chuckled, getting up from the sofa to step into the kitchen. He grimaced at the contents of the cauldron before tugging on an errant curl, "Aw, that's cute that you think it takes thirty minutes, kitten."

Hermione pressed her lips together in a line, staring at him with a deadpanned expression. "You're only proving my point."

Sirius rolled his eyes and sighed very dramatically, flopping down into the chair next to her. "What if I promise not to leave you on your own? We go to the pub, a small one, and play billiards and have a few drinks and a laugh and forget about our troubles for a night. I'll make sure you get home safe and then you can tell Moony you did something besides mope about for the better part of a month."

"I have not been moping!" Hermione said, rolling her eyes, "I've been researching. I've been trying to figure out a damn counter curse, thank you very much. Not all of our priorities can be on booze and women."

"My only priority while Moony is gone is making sure you stay safe and sane. And that James, Lily, and Harry are okay. Considering Wormtail's staying with them until Christmas, I think they're fine. So, now it's you I have to worry about."

"I am perfectly safe here, getting my potions restocked."

"But are you sane?"

Hermione folded her arms over her chest and huffed, "I am fine, Sirius. Go to the pub, have a good time."

"Not unless you come with me!"

"No! I don't want to go!"

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?!"

"Sirius, I don't want to go to the pub!"


Hermione sighed in irritation. She really did not want to come to the pub. She had fought Sirius tooth and nail, complained every step of the way about it, but he seemed completely unbothered by her lack of interest in the pub. He just kept reassuring her that she would have an excellent night and she was due for a good time out of the town. Hermione had explained that she would only be going to one pub and then going home, that a 'night on the town' was absolutely not what she needed after getting only four hours of sleep the night before and barely more than that a night for the last three weeks.

What she needed was for Remus to come home, safe and in one piece. For him to wrap his arms around her and take that slow, deep breath he always did when he buried his face in her neck when he got home. She needed to hear his voice and check him over and make sure he wasn't too badly injured from the last transformation without having any immediate care. And then, she needed him to bury himself inside of her as many times as he saw fit and tell her he loved her until the sun came up.

A too-sweet drink adorned with a little paper umbrella served at a pub where the floors were sticky and the air thick with cigarette smoke was not a sufficient substitute for what she really needed. Still, she had, for some reason unbeknownst to her, let Sirius talk her into coming with him.

The muggle pub was small and filthy—if she were being honest. The walls were lined with several framed posters, most of which had cracks in the glass, and there were two dart boards hanging on opposite walls, a billiards table separating them. The bar itself was lined with mismatched stools, several of which looked as if they would collapse under anyone who dared to sit on them. The man behind the bar was a burly man with thick, yellow-lensed glasses and a mustache that twirled up slightly on the sides. He seemed intimidating enough for anyone who hadn't donned this pub their frequent grounds, to leave and not come back.

He had surveyed Hermione closely when she entered with Sirius, his eyes roaming over her and a smirk on his face as Sirius greeted him.

"Usually don't bring 'em in with you," he said, jerking his head toward Hermione. "Usually leave with em."

"My best mate's bird," Sirius said, his normally eloquent accent dropping into something a little harsher. "He's out on holiday so I promised to look after her."

"Shame," he said.

Hermione had made it a point to sit as far away from the man as possible, forcing a polite smile when he handed her the ridiculous drink Sirius had ordered for her and turning her back to the bar so she could watch Sirius as he roamed around the floor. It was clear he was a regular patron here, he seemed to know nearly every person who walked through the door and laughed heartily at several of their jokes while shaking hands and giving heavy slaps to their backs. Twice, he talked to women. One tall, nearly as tall as he was, with mousy brown hair, pale skin and green eyes. She was curvy and smiled a lot and Hermione thought she was quite pretty. The other woman he spoke with was nearly the exact opposite of the first. Tiny, smaller than even Hermione was, with very short, jet black hair and dark eyes set against brown skin. She wasn't nearly as smiley as the first woman, but she was stunning and reserved her laughter for things that were actually funny. Hermione could appreciate that.

As she sipped her third drink, she realized she really wasn't having a bad time. Sirius had even pulled her away from her stool and played some music on the jukebox so they could dance, and she idly wondered how long it had taken him to figure out how to use the muggle music machine. After they danced to a few songs, Sirius refilled their drinks and they set out to try their hand at billiards. Hermione knew what the game was, but she had never played it before. Deciding it would be best to play in teams, Sirius recruited the help of two men that were drinking at the bar.

About ten minutes into their game, one of the men made an off-hand comment about Hermione's backside as she bent to hit the little ball with the cue-stick. Hermione rolled her eyes and Sirius laughed it off, but told the guy the comment was unappreciated. The second comment on her body came only minutes later from the same man. To this, Sirius got a little more heated and told the man if he liked how his face was organized, he would stop talking about Hermione like that or Sirius would rearrange his features.

The man didn't appreciate that much.

The movement came so fast that Hermione barely had time to blink. Sirius threw his bottle to the side, lunging across the green, felt table and grabbing hold of the man's jacket. He then slammed his fist into the man's nose.

"Oi! Black! I told you no more fighting in here!" The bartender yelled.

"This fucking wanker," Sirius hit that man again, "Is saying things about my friend that I don't appreciate!"

"Sirius!" Hermione said, "For Merlin's sake! Stop! It's fine!"

"It's not fine!" Sirius said, looking at the man with a severe look on his face. "When a woman is uncomfortable with you making comments about her, you stop."

"Fuck you!" The man said, spitting blood into Sirius' face.

"Oh mate, I'm so far out of your league!" Sirius laughed, "Now, apologize to my friend."

"Piss off."

"That's not an apology!"

"Sirius, stop. It's fine!" Hermione pleaded, "You're drunk. Let's just go back to my place and we can—

"There you are, lad! Listen to the bint why don't you?"

The alcohol swimming in Hermione's head made it hard for her to follow what happened, exactly. She was immediately irritated by her lack of foresight and the fact that she hadn't thought to bring a sober-up or two with her. Before she could process any of the words being said, the man swung on Sirius. Sirius grabbed him by the shoulders and head butted him, which sent the man to the floor. Hermione yelped and rushed around the table, pulling at Sirius' jacket as a feeble attempt to get him away from the muggle.

"He's a muggle, Sirius! Stop! If this gets out—"

"The fuck did your bitch just call me?!" The man shouted, a crazed look stealing his face as he scrambled to his feet, his face bloodied and already turning purple with bruises.

"Did I not just tell you that how you're speaking about my friend is inappropriate?!" Sirius yelled, delivering a swift kick to his ankle, sending him back to the dirty floor.

Sirius fell on top of the man, his knees on either side of his waist. He grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him off the floor and sunk his fist into his face.

"Learn to talk the proper way, fuckin' chav!" Each word was punctuated with another hit to the man's face.

"Sirius!" Hermione shouted, "Stop! That's enough!"

Finally, the large barman came over and grabbed Sirius by the back of the neck, pulling him off the man and shoving him toward the door, yelling for him to leave and find a new pub to cause trouble in. Hermione followed Sirius outside, apologizing profusely as she passed the bartender. She grabbed Sirius by his elbow and apparated them both back to her living room.

"Fucking arsehole!" Sirius grumbled, pressing the pad of his thumb to his lip and pulling it away to look at the blood that had collected. "'S'not right to just go about saying things about another man's woman!"

"Sirius, I'm not your—

"I know! But you're Moony's—so it's an insult to me!"

Hermione shook her head, immediately regretting the action as it made her head spin a bit. "You smell terrible," she said.

"Bloke pissed himself when I hit him," Sirius laughed.

"Merlin, go take a shower! Maybe it will sober you up."

Sirius huffed out another laugh and nodded, "Yeah, you're right. I'll borrow some of Moony's pyjamas for the night then. And Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"No sober-up. Let the buzz linger a little before you chase all the fun away from it."

She rolled her eyes but sighed, "Fine. Go shower, you smelly git."

Sirius laughed and headed toward the bathroom. Hermione decided if she were going to stay sozzled, she may as well make sure of it. She stumbled into the kitchen and opened the only bottle of wine she had in the house. While Remus did enjoy the occasional glass of wine or whiskey, he rarely drank it. He said it was a waste of money because it took so much for him to feel the effects of the alcohol, so he just didn't even bother most of the time. Hermione knew that to be true. More than once she had seen him put down double what James or Sirius had drank and he was barely affected at all.

Hermione poured the wine into a glass and drained it, quickly pouring another glass and stepping into the living room to sit in her favorite chair. She had to admit, it did feel good to let her inhibitions go for a night. Had she been sober, the fight in the pub would have upset her, but something about the strange protectiveness Sirius felt toward her warmed her drunken heart and she let his terrible behaviour slide with barely a thought. Obviously, it would have been immensely better if Remus had been there too, and the night hadn't ended in Sirius being thrown out of the pub for fighting, but she had actually had a decent time before that happened. She wondered if going to the pub would be something Remus would like to do sometime, although she would much prefer a nicer pub. Maybe one whose floors did not stick to her shoes as she walked.

Several minutes passed before she heard a door open and Sirius came out of the bathroom with Remus' green towel draped around his waist, his hair still dripping.

"Do you think you could plait my hair for me?"

"Jesus!" Hermione said, covering her eyes. "Could you get dressed first?"

"I could, but I don't know where you keep Remus' pyjamas at!"

"Oh," Hermione said. "Right. I'll get them for—

She was interrupted, as she stood to her feet, by the distinct sound of apparition as Remus materialized in front of her, looking disheveled and exhausted.

"Remus!"

"Moony!"

Sirius and Hermione said in unison, as Hermione stumbled backward, her footing unsteady thanks to the extra glasses of wine she had consumed.

Remus' eyes tore away from Hermione and moved to see Sirius standing almost completely nude and soaked to the bone, draped only in his favorite, fluffy towel. He arched an eyebrow and waved his hand between them, "What's going on here?"

.


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a/n: I hope you liked this fun little chapter! And I hope you all had an amazing Holiday!

Head up: the first two weeks of January, I will be taking a little break from posting. I'm gonna take the time to crank out a bunch of stuff and get my stockpile of chapters back up to where it used to be before I got covid back in november and didn't write for a month _

So the last update before my little break will be New Years Eve (12/31).

Thanks!

xo