Chapter 80: Initium Finis*
1 January 1980
The Shelter
At the stroke of midnight, the window to Hermione's bedroom opened, a faint whiff of magic in the air. She was out, of course. The whole house was empty, not a soul around to witness a box, covered in silver wrapping and a solid black ribbon, floating through the open air to land gracefully on her bed. The window closed. The air stilled.
The wrapping held a flagrante curse. More complex than the curse he'd used on the porcelain box, but she'd dispel it easily. He knew she wasn't stupid enough to open the box without checking first. It was almost pointless to curse it, but he wanted her to know he was learning. He wanted her to see his progress. It wasn't there to hurt her. She'd remove it first, the curse, then the ribbon and the wrapping, and then she'd see what he'd left inside. The little golden lion and the note.
"Where will you put this one?"
2 January 1980
The air felt different that night as the pack played under the light of the moon. Something fell like a blanket of snow to cover their little world. The night seemed hurried and restless, like they were trying to make the most of something slipping too quickly away, but time was, as it tended to do, falling over itself.
If they had known then, the way things were going to change, they may have done things different. They may have lingered longer, said words known but unspoken, outstretched a hand. But they didn't know. None of them.
12 January 1980
The Red Lion
"I now call to order the eleventh Concord of the Marauders. When your name is called, please respond in the affirmative. Mister Prongs?"
"Aye."
"Mister Padfoot."
"Aye."
"Mister Wormtail."
"Aye."
"Miss—sorry, sorry, just Pup."
"Aye."
"Let the record show all members are present." Remus knocked the table with his beer glass. "Mister Prongs, as you called this Concord to order, the floor is yours."
"Anyone notice how it's always Prongs calling these?" Sirius winked at Hermione as she nudged into his shoulder. "Just saying."
"Thank you, Mister Moony." James stood, ignoring Sirius as he lifted his glass in the air. "My marvelous Marauders, my fantastic friends, I thank you for your time. When we last met in this so hallowed fashion, I came to you a changed man, no longer a school boy but a man on the precipice of matrimony. Today, I stand before you approaching a metamorphosis of self once more."
"For fuck's sake—"
"Let the man finish."
"Thank you." James lifted his glass higher, eyes shining as beer sloshed over the side. Sirius yelped, trying to avoid the spill. Hermione laughed and pulled him to her side, nodding at James to continue. A somber look fell over his face. "In all seriousness, you all are my family. We started as strangers, then friends, and now I'm proud to call you my brothers—and sister." He nodded at Hermione. "I couldn't imagine my life without you all. The Potter family has lost some members over the years, but I'm working hard on building it back, making Charlus and Dorea proud of the people they left behind."
"Here, here." Sirius lifted his glass.
"All I can say is I hope they're proud of our little family and the way it's grown. And continues to grow." James' eyes alit with a secret dying to be told. "And speaking of growth…"
Hermione's eyes widened. "Shut up."
"What?" Sirius set down his drink. "What is it? You know?"
Hermione touched a few fingers to her lips as she looked up at James. Her nose stung. "Really?" She was almost breathless.
"Yes, really." James smiled at her.
"You know what it is? How do you know?" Sirius turned from Hermione to James. "How does she know? Merlin's bloody—you're killing me."
James simply smiled, sharing a small moment with Hermione. She blinked to clear her eyes and then lifted her glass, looking at the rest of the boys to match her. Remus raised his own, followed by Peter and Sirius.
"Thank you, Pup," James said. "My fellow Marauders, you are witness to another momentous change in my life. You saw me through boyhood to manhood, manhood to husbandhood—"
"Not a real word, but okay."
"And now, the most frightening of all, the transition to…" He smirked. "Fatherhood."
"Yes!" Sirius leapt out from his seat to hug James. Peter's jaw dropped. Remus' eyes widened. A tear fell from Hermione's eye.
"A baby," Remus whispered, his eyes falling to Hermione. She met his gaze and smiled, a swell of emotions dancing in her eyes. Remus frowned, but shook his head. For a moment—but no, of course not, but—for a moment, he thought he'd seen sorrow in Hermione's eyes.
"Another round, barkeep!" Sirius' voice rang out. "Another round for my friend here. He's about to be a dad!" The crowd around them cheered. "Fuck it, a round for everyone!" The bar exploded in noise.
Hermione reached across the table to squeeze James' arm. He looked down at her, and Hermione's smile wavered. Fuck, it wasn't fair. "Congratulations, James." Her voice shuddered. "I'm so, so happy for you and Lily. It's—He's going to be amazing, the best kid ever."
When James smiled back at her, his gaze was heavy with something that felt too familiar to Hermione. A weight of responsibility, of knowledge, of something more, but it faded away as the group resettled at the table, a fresh round of drinks making their way around. Peter reached over to clap James on the back, his words lost to Hermione as she tried to keep herself from sobbing at the table. Sirius pulled her back into his side. Remus had fallen quiet on the other side of the table.
"A toast." James lifted his glass once more. "To the best friends a man could ask for." He nodded at Peter. "To the future sacrifices—" He nodded at Sirius and turned to Remus. "And joys to come." He looked at Hermione and winked. "And the end of life as we know it."
The Shelter
There was a moment, when they returned home, a shifting in the air. Sirius bounded his way up the stairs, but Hermione lingered, stalling in her steps to fall back with Remus. She held out a hand to stop him, moving to face him. Her stance wavered as if she couldn't decide whether to hold him. In the end, she reached out, her arms gripping him as her words rang softly in his ear.
"You're an amazing friend, Remus. I know, I know it's hard. I know it's hard. But you're not alone. There is someone out there for you, Remus. And I just think the longer you wait, the more amazing they will be."
Hermione's hands fell to grip one of Remus', squeezing tightly before she turned to retreat upstairs. His eyes stayed on her until she disappeared from view.
Her words were comforting. They were, truly. After an evening of celebrating his friend reach another milestone Remus didn't know he'd ever reach himself, he felt seen and understood in a way that his soul had been coveting for longer than he knew. But there was more. There were things left unspoken because he refused to give them power. He knew it wasn't just timing and chemistry. He knew that he had been self-sabotaging. He knew that if he truly wanted that kind of love in his life that one of these days he was going to have to open up to someone and risk getting hurt. But he was afraid and he knew he was afraid. He was too much of a coward to risk it. And that—more than his friends finding love in each other, more than James and Lily having a baby, more than the world moving on without him—that was what killed him.
19 January 1980
The Evans' Residence
"Hello, you've reached the Dursley residence. We're unable to come to the phone right now. Please leave your name and number, and we'll return the call when we can. Thank you. Goodbye."
Beep.
"Tuney? Hi, it's me." Lily sighed. "I—There's something I want to tell you. Goodness, how do I phrase this. I guess just out with it, right? I-I wanted to tell you in person, but…" She bit her lip, worrying it between her teeth before she spoke again. "I'm pregnant, Tuney. James and I are going to have a baby. I—Well, I wanted you to know. I love you, Tuney, and I'd love to hear from you. Okay, that's all. Goodbye."
Lily hung up the phone and stared at the receiver as if it could tell her something, anything, about how to fix the rift with her sister. And then, as if by magic, the phone started to ring. Hope blossomed in her chest.
"Hello?"
"How dare you."
Lily's heart sank. "What?"
"You just have to be the center of attention all the time, don't you? Can't be content to let people just live their lives without butting in. No, of course not."
Lily sputtered her mouth falling open at the venom in Petunia's voice. "Tuney, wait—"
"No," Petunia spat back. "I'm pregnant, Lily. Me. Vernon and I are having a baby. I cannot believe you're trying to steal this from me."
"I—" Lily's mind reeled. "I didn't know. Mum didn't—"
"Well, of course not. I didn't tell you."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Why would I? You're not in my life anymore. I don't want you in my life, you and those other freaks."
"I'm not a—"
"You're a freak, Lily, and I don't want that sort of thing around my family. Vernon was just promoted and with the baby on the way—you're not going to mess this up for me."
"I wouldn't—Petunia, I'm your sister."
"Yes, well," she paused. "Listen, it doesn't matter. I have to think of my family—"
"I am your family!"
"Don't. Don't yell at me."
"Tuney—"
"No, Lily." A sneer curved around her words. "I want a normal life."
"I can be normal."
Petunia was quiet for a moment and when she spoke again, Lily felt a flicker of recognition of the sister she once had. "No, Lil, you'll never be just normal."
Click.
From: Lily Potter, Potter Manor
To: Severus Snape, c/o Master Cyprus Colibiri
Dear Severus,
I've thought about writing you for a while now, and I've already gone through several drafts. I just—The words aren't quite coming out right, so I hope you'll be patient with me.
I miss you.
Our world right now is so stressful and scary, and I just want some reassurance. I want to know that everyone I care about is safe and okay. And despite the time and space and everything between us, I will always care about you.
I don't expect much of a response from you. I'm sure you're very busy breaking all kinds of records in your mastery. I'd still love to hear from you, just to know you're okay. I hope you're busy studying and learning. I hope you love it. I hope you're staying out of this.
I know you're not supposed to finish for a while, but knowing you, you'll be done with your mastery before I even have time to send this letter. I'd love to see you the next time you're around. I have some news and I'd like to tell you in person.
Stay safe, Severus.
Take care,
Lily
14 February 1980
The Shelter
He took her out for a ride again, pulled out a leather jacket he said was just lying around but was suspiciously closer to her size than his. He was quiet as he settled her on the bike before taking his spot in front of her. With his back to her, he couldn't see the blush on her cheeks or the way she closed her eyes as she inhaled his scent. And she couldn't see the serenity that passed over his face when her arms wrapped around the bulk of him. The silence continued as they left the Shelter behind, and it wasn't until they passed through the little gate at the front of the property that they both breathed in deeply. For the first time in a long while.
Hermione clung tightly to the man in front of her, allowing herself to pretend things were different, that they were different. That she wasn't hiding secrets so heavy she no longer noticed their weight. That he wasn't scarred from loss and abandonment. Her arms tightened. Sirius slowed slightly. She wanted to be reckless. She wanted to let go and live, but something in her held her back, that small thread centered in her chest. She'd been selfish enough already when it came to the Black boys, hadn't she? She'd crawled inside their lives and buried herself so deeply she didn't think there'd ever come a day she didn't consider them hers.
She'd saved Regulus—hoped she'd saved Regulus—but at what cost? His youth cut short? His soul burdened with knowledge? His future more uncertain than ever before? And Sirius? She would only bring him pain, could only bring him pain. No matter how much she lo—
"Pup?" His voice broke through the noise. He always broke through the noise.
"Can—can you pull over? Please." She closed her eyes as the bike slowed and veered to the side. Sirius moved to help her off, his arms guiding her to sit on the little stone wall.
"Are you okay?" He knelt before Hermione, his hands taking hers, his eyes searching.
"I—" Her gaze darted around his face. She blinked and grimaced and shook her head. "I don't know. I-I don't know."
Sirius stood, pulling her up to her feet and into the strength of his chest. He held her there with his eyes closed and a look of consternation on his face. "It's okay, Hermione. I know."
As Hermione burrowed into his chest, Sirius looked up at the clouds rolling in above them. Fuck all of this. He pressed a kiss to the top of Hermione's head and allowed himself to forget for a moment. And as he stood there, holding the woman he loved, he let himself pretend everything was going to be okay.
This time her gift came by owl. Non-descript and eager to leave, the bird waited around just long enough for her to open the window before dropping its package. It was only after the weight fell into her arms that Hermione wondered if this gift too had been cursed. She stared down at the plain brown paper wrapping, muscles tense as she waited for pain, numbness, ice or fire. But nothing came.
She set it down on her bed. One eye on the package as she completed her little ritual for secrecy, Hermione tried to damper the flicker of excitement and morbid curiosity in her chest. She cringed at herself as she ripped into the paper, pulling it back as quick as she could to reveal the latest piece in the Dolohov puzzle.
Two dozen roses. Dark red, the color of blood long dried. Twenty-four perfect roses with buds just opened and long, elegant stems riddled with thorns. Hermione reached out to touch one, but stopped herself. Caution, that's what Antonin Dolohov required.
The roses emanated a chill, and upon closer inspection, Hermione discovered they were in fact all frozen in bloom. When she dared to touch one, careful to avoid the thorns, her fingers came away burning with an intense cold. With a wave of her wand she set them to rest delicately in a vase beside the other gifts, only then revealing the card left behind.
"Из Сибири с любовью."
The thing about Antonin Dolohov, Hermione was beginning to realize, was that he was entirely unpredictable. Each gift he sent was unique, as if picked out and presented by different people. And yet, there was method there. Each gift had been chosen for her, the details of it all so specific. To torture her? Guilt her? Provoke? Consume? She could only guess at his thoughts.
But she felt a kinship there, an understanding, something that Dolohov could see that her friends here hadn't quite grasped. The otherness, the displacement, the way she maneuvered around the delicate webbing of their lives. Perhaps that was the real reason why she hadn't told anyone yet. Because to admit this thing between her and Dolohov would be to open the door to questions she knew she couldn't answer, suspicion she knew she couldn't defend against. But beyond that, this convoluted rivalry was hers, just hers. It wasn't part of something she'd heard from stories. It wasn't a block in the domino effect of the events she knew were yet to come. And although her chest twinged at the mere thought of the consequences, she couldn't let it go. She had such few things in this time that were hers, that challenged her in a way that made her remember who she was before all of this. He reminded her of potions and riddles, creeping around corners with mirrors, sneaking out at night and solving puzzles. This secret of Antonin Dolohov was dangerous, but it was hers.
Chapter Title Translation: *The Beginning of the End
"Из Сибири с любовью." – From Siberia with love.