The last thing Hermione remembers is the distinct howl of a werewolf.
That is how the rest of her life begins.
Hermione wakes in a strange room. The sun streams in through the curtains in warm ribbons spilling across the sheets of the bed she is occupying. It smells faintly of the woods and animals: wet, musty, gamey, tinted slightly with the metallic smell of blood.
Hermione tries to remember more, but the sharp throb in her right temple makes her wince and she buries her face back into the pillow.
Was the smell her blood? Besides the pain in her temple, she feels okay. The blood may not be hers.
Someone had hit her.
James. Or Sirius.
"There she is," Sirius says, bags dark and purple beneath his eyes. He sits beside her on the bed and takes her chin in his hand, tilting her head to have a look at her face. "How do you feel?"
"What happened?" she asks, feeling the sharp sting in her temple again. Sirius brushes a thumb against the swollen flesh on the bruised bone and sighs.
"Prongs knocked you out of the way when Lupin began changing," Sirius smiles, looking slightly woeful. "With your sudden appearance, and after all you'd told us, we sorta maybe forgot for a moment that it was the first night of the full moon."
Hermione still isn't used to looking at Sirius as he is. Young, wrinkle-free, with fewer tattoos covering his skin, his hair long, shiny, and tied neatly back from his face which is covered in thick stubble. He's quite beautiful.
"He'll change tonight again, won't he?" Hermione asks. Sirius' smile fades and his eyes lose focus and go dark.
"Yeah," he says. "You should go back wherever you came from. We've been warned. Peter is a coward. We'll keep him away from James and Lily."
Hermione sits up and even on equal seating, Sirius is inches taller. He was younger than her by 8 years and still, he felt older than her somehow. "I can help him."
Sirius lifts an eyebrow and opens his mouth, but before anything comes out, James appears in the bedroom doorway, arms folded across his chest with that grin Hermione has grown to know from its frequent appearance on Harry's face.
"Help him, how?" James' voice is different than she had expected it to be when she had heard him speak for the first time last night. Deeper than Harry's with less boyishness. Though when he feels like teasing, Hermione knows he can, and he sounds like a teenager again.
"I have Wolfsbane Potion," Hermione says softly, feeling for her beaded bag. Sirius and James' attention remains on her hand and their eyes widen when her entire arm disappears into her bag. She finds it where she has securely tucked it near the mouth of the bag and presents it to them.
Remus Lupin fills the rest of the doorway and slings a heavy arm around James, eyeing Hermione curiously. "Where was that last night when I needed it, huh?"
James takes Remus' weight and together, they shift to the bed and Hermione now finds herself surrounded by three twenty-year-olds with varying degrees of injuries. She pulls her knees to her body, suddenly feeling shy.
"I found you a little later than I expected," Hermione says softly to her knees. "So when I got to telling you what I came here to tell you, we ran out of time."
"I should have an easier night tonight, Hermione. Thank you," Remus says, taking the bottle from her and inspecting it, his eyebrows furrowing in interest.
"Granger," James says slowly. Hermione isn't used to that either: James calling her Granger. "You sure about Evans? I mean, she told me we'd sort things out when she got back from Spain, but we had a big row."
"When's that ever stopped you from convincing her to take you back?" Sirius teases.
James shrugs and runs a hand through his hair. Hermione is struck by just how much Harry resembles his father.
"Why does Peter betray us?" Remus asks, wariness weighing down his words so he sounds as exhausted as he looks. He has been the least trusting of the three, but Hermione had expected it. She is a stranger to them, claiming to be of the future, bearing bad news and asking them to distrust one of their oldest friends.
Hermione wishes she didn't have to tell them any more than she has to because she has no idea what giving them more information about their futures would do now that she's gotten the important bits out of the way.
"He's a coward," Hermione says simply, "when you confronted him about it-" she pauses, wondering if to mention Azkaban and deciding against it, "-he said he didn't want to die."
James scoffs, Sirius' eyes go dark, and Remus sighs.
"We're supposed to believe that our friend is a coward," Remus says slowly as if trying to better absorb the words by repeating them. "But he hasn't shown any indication of unsatisfied feelings or fear."
"He's probably already defected," Hermione whispers. "He's probably already passing information back and forth. But the Prophecy hasn't been made yet. And Lily isn't pregnant."
Sirius and Remus' eyebrows go up. They both glance at James whose cheeks have tinted pink slightly.
"My son," James begins carefully, "is he alright in your time?"
Hermione meets his gaze and presses her lips together. What he's just asked is the reason she's here. For Harry. Harry needs one of them to survive, and if Hermione is successful in warning them, maybe one will live and Harry will be okay.
"He's," Hermione sighs, the emotion thick in her throat, "he lives, if that's what you're asking."
"But?" Sirius prompts, his voice urgent as Hermione remembers. Even now, he cares for Harry, and Harry isn't a thought yet.
"He loses all three of you," Hermione says, looking at each of them in turn. "I'm breaking all kinds of rules telling you this, but…"
"What, Granger?" James says through clenched teeth, his entire body is taut. "Spit it out."
"You die," Hermione looks at James and her mouth twists in a grimace, "protecting Harry and Lily."
She turns to Sirius. "You almost die when Harry is thirteen from a Dementor's kiss. Harry saves you. You die protecting him when he is fifteen. In front of him." Hermione can feel her throat tightening now.
She meets Remus' attentive gaze. "And you die in the battle of Hogwarts with your wife, leaving behind your son, Teddy."
Hermione watches questions race through their thoughts, their eyes going unfocused, expressions cycling across their faces, and words bubbling up in their throats and bobbing their Adam's apple. None of this actually means anything. Not a single one of them knows if she's telling the truth.
"Are you and Harry together?" Remus asks finally.
"What?" Hermione sputters. "No! He's my best friend. I just- after the war, he never recovered. And there's only so much I can do. He's not really there anymore."
"So you undertake a dangerous time travelling mission in the slim hopes you can stop a prophecy from happening so that your best mate will be mentally capable of living?" Sirius looks at her in wonder. "Mental."
"Why do you think it's slim?" Hermione rebuts defensively.
"Because it's already happened," Remus says in a matter-of-fact tone that reminds her of herself, "hasn't it?"
"As of now," Hermione says pointedly, "No, it hasn't. Not to you lot, anyway."
Silence follows her words as everyone mulls it over.
"We have to try," James says, his voice strong but soft. "We have to try, I guess."
—
"I'll leave this with you." Hermione holds up a bottle of Dittany. The perfume-like pungency of it has permeated through her clothes already. Hermione knows from having used it before so many years ago, that it will take a day or two for the last of its scent to dissipate.
"That's more valuable than anything I own," Remus says, refusing to take it from her. James reaches over Remus and accepts it from Hermione.
Dittany usually did a wonderful job at masking the metallic odour of blood, and the freshness of open wounds, but mingling with the distinct smell of wet fur of three animals, the potion is fighting a losing battle.
"Use only one drop at a time," Hermione says for maybe the tenth time.
"We got it, Granger," James nods, meeting her eyes briefly before looking away.
"I should get going," Hermione looks at Remus and feels a tinge of something . He looks much better than he had this morning after his final transformation last night. She stands. James and Remus stutter at the same time, choking on incomprehensible words and making Hermione giggle.
"Sirius will be back with dinner in a sec," James finally gets out, a blush tinting the tips of his ears despite his rather defiant expression.
"Then I should leave you to eat in peace," Hermione says lightly, shifting in her seat. "I've stayed far longer than I meant to."
"So what's staying for dinner?" Remus quips before attempting to rise. "Just, let us thank you."
"With dinner?" Hermione asks, amused.
"It's a really good local pub," James laughs, "I swear. The fish and chips are great."
Hermione considers them for a moment, their pleading eyes so very like Harry and Ron whenever her best mates ask her for her help. "Fine." She was never great at saying no. James grins, Remus smiles, and Hermione finds herself excited for fish and chips.
Later that night, one bottle of wine in, Remus looks years younger and almost completely okay – after taking the Strengthening Potion Hermione had forced onto him. James' arm is slung over Sirius' shoulders while they laugh in what can only be described as a cackle.
The sun has already set, and the food has already begun to digest. Hermione, again, has overstayed her welcome. But going back to her current time while slightly intoxicated seems like a poor idea; she hadn't thought to bring a Sober-up Potion.
"You have no one waiting for you?" Remus asks, resting his chin on his forearms and gazing up at her, cheeks rosy and eyes glimmering.
"I used to have someone," Hermione answers, "but, after the war, I broke up with him. Everyone changed, and I didn't like who he had become."
James and Sirius nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, the war changes people," Sirius agrees.
"What about family?" James asks. Hermione feels a tinge in her chest, a twisting of a dull knife she lives with every day.
"They've no memory of me," Hermione says softly. "I protected them during the war and couldn't undo the magic I used. I was too late."
Three pairs of eyes are gazing at her and Hermione feels heat rise in her sternum to colour her cheeks. Without overt pain on their faces and beneath the focus of their intense gazes, Hermione feels like she's sitting with a catalogue of models and their attention makes her squirm.
"What about you three?" Hermione redirects, her voice a little too high, her cheeks blazing. "I know James will be with Lily, but you two?" Hermione points between Remus and Sirius.
"Don't have bisexual wizards in your time, do you?" Remus laughs, glancing at Sirius. Hermione narrows her eyes and looks between them, finding Sirius blushing beneath his stubble.
"We do, actually," Hermione says slowly. She hadn't meant to imply them being together, but here they are. "Wait, are you saying…no, you don't have to tell me a thing. It's none of my business anyway."
James bursts out laughing, sending spittle halfway across the table. "Merlin's beard," he barely got out between his giggles, "they even roped me into their shenanigans."
"Oh," Hermione says, the information not quite getting to her mind in quite the instant way it usually does. Then it hits her. All three of them. " Oh. "
"Do you think we broke her?" Remus asks innocently.
"I think I should go to bed," Hermione says quickly. She stands and is pleasantly surprised to find the room sturdy and unmoving beneath her feet. Though, the edges of everything are slightly out of focus, and the lights all have a dreamy quality.
All three men follow her, rising to their feet like they had rehearsed it when she wasn't looking. She laughs, glancing from one to the other.
Remus comes around the table and pulls her into a tight hug, burying his face in her hair and squeezing her in his grip. Her arms come up automatically, and before she releases him, James and Sirius are on either side of them, crushing her in the weight of their gratitude.
They all tower over her, various parts of their faces press into her hair, staying there until she feels the heat of breath against her scalp. Her heartbeat quickens and she's suddenly aware of Remus' thumping chest against her own, humming through the thickness of her jumper.
What is happening?
"I should go," Hermione says, her voice muffled against Remus' chest.
"Yea," Sirius agrees against her scalp. No one moves.
How long has it been since Hermione had been held by anyone? She's always so busy holding up everyone else, no one ever checks in on her.
Here are these men who she's known for less than three days and they were comforting her when she hadn't known she needed comforting.
The hug tightens and Hermione feels herself rise to her tiptoes so she can further melt into them, thighs press against hers and she grows hot everywhere.
"We're so grateful to you, Hermione," Remus whispers.
"Speak for yourself," James says half-heartedly. Then he laughs, exhaling the smell of wine into Hermione's lungs. "No, but we are. Grateful."
"Do you always hug like this?" Hermione wriggles her face free and tries to look at them, only to find all their faces inches from hers, their gazes bearing down on her with dark eyes and hazed gazes.
What is happening?
Round edges to her thoughts and the sharp taste of wine on her tongue, her lips tingle with the thrum of her pulse.
"Hermione," Remus says softly, his lips trailing her nail across her cheek before his lips catch on hers. The shock lasts only an instant. Desperation is all she has left.
Hands press against her ribcage, sliding along her waist to her hips, sliding up to cup her breasts, down to grab fistfuls of her arse, kneading her flesh and sending a rocket of pleasure through her to her toes.
Remus' stubble catches against her the sensitive skin of her lips. Hermione is kissing him.
They're kissing .
She isn't aware of her own hands or arms. She's hardly aware of what she's doing. The press of their fingers, their lips on her neck and shoulder, the pulsing of their cocks beginning to fill with blood against her hips, thighs, cunt.
They lift her, forcing Hermione to stop kissing a man she knows but doesn't know. They're all men she knows but doesn't really . This is a wild idea. A bad idea.
"Tell us to stop," Sirius says, breath shaking, eyes dark. Hermione doesn't want to. They place her on the dining room table, a long thing meant to seat eight people and stare at her like she has become their dessert.
"Tell us we shouldn't," James whispers, his fingers undoing the button of her trousers.
Hermione parts her knees and lifts to let Remus tug the tight jeans from her hips, down her thighs. James removes her shoes, freeing the fabric completely from her frame, and leaving her legs bare and trembling.
"I want to thank you, Hermione," Remus murmurs against her thigh, sliding her knickers off and leaving her exposed. "You've come like a gale in the night and changed everything. You've potentially saved our lives. Let us thank you."
Her arms lift when Sirius tugs her jumper free, and then her bra. Hermione sits naked on James' dining table, their eyes devouring her an inch at a time.
"So, thank me then," Hermione says in a surprisingly even voice. "Thank me sincerely."
Remus pulls her forward until she teeters on the edge of the table, then he places her legs on his shoulders. The heat of his breath meets the slick of her cunt and sends a shiver through her, turning her muscles to jello and causing her to collapse back onto the table before he presses his tongue against her clit.
Remus hums in satisfaction just as Hermione's mind goes blank. A hand closes gently around her throat, the rough pads of its fingers tracing her jaw, then her lips. She opens her mouth to let him in. When she opens her eyes, she sees that it's Sirius' fingers on her tongue, salty and flavoured with dinner.
Hermione sucks until her cheeks hollow, writhing against Remus' tongue plunging into her to taste her. A mouth closes around her nipple and she gasps in surprise.
Remus presses two fingers into her and curls them up, building a rhythm that carries her to the stars and shatters her.
It is her first orgasm in months that isn't at her own hands. Her thighs clamp Remus' head between them and she shudders and tries to writhe away, but Remus sucks on her clit until she's moaning babbled words to the ceiling.
Finally, Remus rises from between her boneless legs and wipes his chin, grinning. "I wonder what you taste like after James and Sirius have had you?"
Obediently, James takes Remus' place, his hands gentle and firm on her thighs.
"Tell us if we need to stop," James says, his voice low and husky, eyes dark and tracing her body laid out beneath him. "I don't pull out."
Hermione has a contraceptive potion. She can take it later. The ache in her cunt is begging to be appeased and she doesn't care for fingers or tongues any more.
James' cock presses against her slick entrance and he slides into her easily. Hermione inhales sharply before she moans, her eyes squeezing shut from the pressure of him stretching her walls as he slowly sinks to his base. The cloth of his trousers will stain with the mess Remus has made.
"Fuck," James swears, his forearms flexing where they prop him up against the table. "You're still coming."
Hermione's walls ripple eagerly, the remnants of her first orgasm rise again to peak from James simply entering her. Hermione's toes curl and her thighs tighten around James' waist, pulling him closer to her.
Hermione's eyes are barely open, she is hardly aware of who is where around her, and she starts at the feel of a mouth closing around her clit. Her walls tighten and James moans, urging his hips forward so he isn't forced out from inside her.
Remus flicks his tongue against the exposed ball of nerves before blowing softly against it. James slides from her, and Hermione opens her eyes, about to protest, when she sees James' cock disappear into Remus' throat. James' hand combs through Remus' hair before he pulls away, and slides himself back into Hermione. Her spine liquifies and she melts against the tabletop.
Hermione's mouth waters. She wants to do what he has. Peering up at Sirius, she finds him stroking himself and she opens her mouth, inviting him to use her.
Hesitating for only a moment, Sirius steps forward and gives a low groan when Hermione's palm closes around his shaft and squeezes. His skin is so hot, his cock is thick and throbbing, and she can only smell the headiness of him, the musk fills her lungs and opens her appetite.
Sirius' precome is bitter and salty on her tongue. Sucking, she finds the edge of sweetness which makes her eager to find his end.
James begins to move, holding her hips steady so every time his pelvis meets the fleshy underside of her arse, he sinks into her completely. His thumb finds her clit. Hermione can't think.
It's so much all at once. Remus's come-flavoured tongue stains her nipples, pulling focus from Sirius' cock in her hand and on her tongue, from James' cock thrusting into her, his thumb coaxing ecstasy from her oversensitive ball of nerves.
Hermione comes in waves, her hips roll in time with James. She shudders and thrashes away, but James is relentless. His jaw is slack, his eyes are wild, his fingers dig into her hips until the muffled slap of his clothed hips hitting her flesh is all she can hear besides her cries from her own aching throat.
James gives a sharp grunt of pleasure, biting back his moans until it comes as a rumble through his entire body. Heat spills into Hermione, she can feel every pulse and throb of his orgasm. Remus has left her side, and he waits on his knees, mouth open for James' cock. Hermione watches in fascination as Remus' tongue laps up the beading white from James' head.
Come begins to spill from her. She feels the mess starting to pool beneath her.
As if on cue, Remus leaves James softening cock and lowers his mouth to her cunt. His tongue plunges into her come-filled hole, trapping the thick spend on his tongue before he swallows. Remus devours what of James he can, leaving Hermione delirious from overstimulation of his breath and tongue, and just the sight of him doing it.
Remus grins, and Hermione can see he's holding something in his mouth. He goes to Sirius whose cock is pressed against her cheek, staining her skin with precome, and kisses him.
It's sloppy and wet. From beneath them both, Hermione can see the obscene slick of Sirius' tongue catching James' come, swapping it from Remus' mouth to his.
"Don't they taste good?" Remus asks, grinning at Sirius. "Now be a good man and fill her up again."
Sirius doesn't hesitate. He takes the three steps required to be where James had been standing. Carefully, he takes her hips in his hands and flips her onto her stomach, her legs shakily planted on the floor
"How flexible are you, Hermione?" Sirius asks, pressing a palm to the underside of one thigh and lifting her knee to the table. Hermione feels exposed. She is blind to his actions. There is no visual cue to build anticipation for what he will do next. She obediently tries to leave her knee up and finds that she can't.
James and Remus help, and finally she's securely placed and thrumming with suspense.
Sirius buries himself inside her cunt in one swift thrust. Hermione's cunt clenches, her knee trembles, and she is ablaze again.
She wants Sirius to fuck her until her limbs are boneless until her body is liquid until she forgets everything she knows. His cock is thick inside her, already coated in her and James' come, sliding in and out of her in a smooth rhythm.
This angle, bending forward with one leg stretching until her hamstring strings as she tries and fails to prop herself on her elbows makes her sob from the intensity of it. Pleasure zaps through her with every press of his cock into her walls. Hands hold her steady, somebody's fingers thread through her hair and pull her head back so they can see her gasping and sobbing.
Sirius builds a punishing tempo. Hermione feels the bones of her pelvis begin to ache. She wishes she could open wider for him, splay her legs out of either side so she becomes just a hole for him.
She sobs and moans, gripping the table, writhing the closer she comes to yet another peak.
"Fucking- fuck- " Sirius swears when his hips stutter and his body rebels against him. Heat fills her, spurting with every throb of his cock as Sirius buries himself to his base and collapses against her dewy back, kissing her and moaning softly the entire time.
Sirius slips carefully from her and Hermione feels the come immediately seep down her thighs. A wet slap hits the floor when she clenches onto nothing in his absence. Excitement hums through her.
Hands lift her again, placing her on her feet so her arse presses against the edge of the table. Sirius takes his place behind her, holding her steady because she can't quite stand. Remus steps up to her.
Their clothes press hot against her tacky skin. Sirius' breath is hot against her neck, his arms close around her waist, the curve of her breasts rests on his forearms, and he holds her firmer still.
Remus lowers his mouth to hers. Hermione tastes the remnants of her orgasm and James' salty, bitter aftertaste in his kiss. She quivers at his touch when Remus' or Sirius' hand parts her legs. Obediently, she tries to lift her knees for him.
Sirius' cock is half hard against her thigh, but Remus is already pressing into her, stretching her. Their breaths are hot and shaky, mingling together in their kiss that isn't a kiss.
"Your cunt is divine, Hermione," Remus says shakily. Hermione can feel him trembling. He's been waiting for a long time, watching his best friend pump her full of themselves, and Hermione can tell Remus is already at his limit. She finds herself eager to feel him empty himself into her, adding to James and Sirius so they all can feel like one; to feel complete.
Hermione wraps her arms around Remus, holding herself up. James comes to her side, taking her knee in his palms and holding her open.
With three of them entwined, no concept of whose hands belong to whom, of whose limbs are whose, Remus builds an achingly slow rhythm. Lips press to her skin; her neck, her cheeks, her lips, her knee, and she thinks of Remus sliding into her, and out of her, cream ringing at his base, dripping to the floor in the mess she's allowed to happen.
Holding each other tightly, Remus thrusts until his hips stutter and come fills her again, immediately trickling down her thigh and to the floor. Sirius' cock slicks against the spillage and Hermione never wants the night to end.
"We're mated for life now," Remus says shakily. "All four of us."
Hermione knows she won't readily forget them. She doesn't want to forget them.
She doesn't want to leave.
On July 30th, 1980, minutes to midnight, Hermione Granger's water breaks one month too soon.