Chapter 81: Quousque Tandem?*

1 March 1980

St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries

"Hermione!" Lily's face broke out in a smile before twisting in worry. "What are you doing here? Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine, Lily." Hermione rushed to her friend's side, pulling her into a quick hug. "I just thought I'd stop by to check in on the mum-to-be."

"Oh, you're sweet. I've got something I need to finish up, but I can take a break in about five minutes?"

"Then I'll get out of your way until then."

"Okay, great." The smile had made its way back to Lily's face as she reached for Hermione's hand to squeeze. "And thanks for coming by. Truly. I know you're probably feeling tomorrow's effects already, so thank you. Today has been… It's just really good to see you is all."

"Of course." Hermione nodded and waited as Lily disappeared beyond the corner. She waited a moment more before turning into the double doors Lily had passed on her way out. Her stomach flipped in anticipation as she pushed through and walked under the sign marked Newborn Nursery.

The doors opened into a widened hallway, a bulletin board filled with pictures and drawings ran the length of one wall. Benches and a few rocking chairs were scattered about facing the opposite wall of windows. The viewing room was fairly empty save a couple cooing to each other as they stood with noses pressed to the glass and an older woman knitting in a rocking chair, her eyes never once dropping to the activity in her hands.

Hermione passed by them all, keeping her head down but her eyes focused on the bassinets beyond the glass. Her eyes searched each one, running over tiny faces and handwritten name cards until—

"Merlin." The tears came in an instant. "You're so small." She pressed her hand up against the glass, the fierce fire of a friendship forged making itself known again in her chest. "Hi, Ron."

Ronald Bilius Weasley sat sleeping in his bassinet just before her eyes, and Merlin, he was small. It was jarring for Hermione, to be suddenly faced with the reality that Ron wasn't the solid presence she had always known him to be. He had always been bigger, louder, taller, stronger, but as she peered down at him just hours old, Hermione almost wanted to look away. It felt like she wasn't supposed to see him like this. This wasn't the Ron she knew, would know. This was only the beginning of his story, the beginning of the parts without her, without Harry, without all of their friendship and fights and victories. The butterflies in her stomach turned to ash.

"I—" She stumbled over her words. "I just wanted to see you. I just needed to see you, and—I don't know. I—Happy birthday, Ronald. I'm so glad you're finally here."

A nurse on the other side of the glass caught her eyes, gesturing as if inviting Hermione inside. She shook her head, forcing a smile and a nod before turning her gaze back to Ron.

"I don't think I should come in. I-I don't think you should see me. I don't want to —" She bit her trembling lip. "Wow, it's all just—I think it's hitting me quite differently now, realizing how far I've fallen. Seventeen years? Seventeen years, I—A lifetime, Ronald. Our lifetime. And Merlin, I know you're just a baby but I want a hug from you so badly. God, I haven't—" She choked on her words. "It's been—It's been two and a half years since I've seen you." Hermione closed her eyes.

As she breathed against the glass, tears trapped between her eyelashes, a flood of memories floated to mind. The train to Hogwarts. Her desperate tries to find her place. Fumbled attempts at friendship. Hurtful words and tears. Then, of course the defining moment, the choices they made that changed everything, set their friendships, their paths and destinies in stone. She opened her eyes.

"It's different with you, okay, different from Remus and Sirius. They met me first here. They always met me first here. But you? Us? I'm not messing with that. I'm not changing our story. But I just wanted to see you." Her heart fluttered as Ron's face twisted into a yawn, his eyes starting to blink open. "I don't know how long I have to wait to see you again, but you've got eleven years, okay? Okay? I love you, Ronald. I love you. Okay. I'll see you—I'll see you again, I promise."

Wiping her hands furiously across her cheeks, Hermione tore her gaze from Ron and walked out of the double doors.

2 March 1980

The Shelter

The land around the Shelter always felt big to Hermione. If you stood at the front door, you could still see the stone wall and gate that marked the edge of the property, but wards that followed the wall disappeared into a small forest off the back of the garage. She hadn't grown up with a backyard or even a garden, and she'd never felt any kind of ownership over the grounds at Hogwarts. And the Shack, transforming at the Shack, had always felt itchy, like trying to contain sunlight in a box. The Shelter, on the other hand? Here, she could breathe.

The air was crisp that night, and they felt younger than they had in months. The animagi had wasted no time in changing into their forms. It was tempting, so tempting, now to disappear into their other selves for just a moment. Wormtail scrambled up Prongs' hide, holding on as the stag pranced after Padfoot, falling behind as the scrappy dog sprinted from friend to friend. He nipped at the heels of Remus and Hermione, eliciting laughter and scritches behind his ears. Pup settled beautifully in Hermione's chest, eager but patient for the moon to rise.

"I just want to run." Her smile held the light of spring as she looked at Remus, eyes wistful. She'd been trying, focusing on holding in the reins every month, but the moon was calling. How could he not feel it? She looked over Remus' tired eyes as he nodded at her.

"We still have some time. Go and play for a minute. I'll call you back when it's time."

Hermione kissed him on the cheek and took off after the others. With every step she took away from Remus, she loosed her grip on the patchwork rope in her mind. Her senses started to widen, her bones and breath stronger. Each inhale tasted a bit more like freedom.

She reached Prongs in a moment of respite, Wormtail balancing his way across his antlers. She ran a thumb across Prongs' forehead.

"A lot of energy tonight. You lot up for it?" Prongs butted against Hermione's arm, pushing her slightly. She smiled. "Good." She pushed back and looked off into the distance to find Padfoot lounging beneath a tree before taking off running.

With each step, she let go a little bit more, knowing that by the time she reached Sirius, gold would be flooding her eyes. She pushed herself harder, her breaths turning to pants as she neared him. She slowed just enough to throw words at him as she passed.

"Run with me."

He took chase immediately. Barks and laughter filled the air as she weaved around, darting about to avoid the playful snap of his jaws. Pup felt free and light. She loved the moon, loved her pack, loved her moments of absolute freedom. She loved it al—

"Hermione, it's time!"

Her Alpha's voice snapped her errant thoughts away. Hermione twisted in her spot, changing directions sharply to return to Remus.

"Ah!" Her foot fell into the ground and stopped, the rest of her body jolting forward. She felt more than heard something snap.

"Hermione!"

Sirius materialized before her, his hands on her leg but his eyes on her face. "What happened?"

Hermione grimaced, her teeth baring as she sneered against the pain. She looked down to her foot, twisted awkwardly in what seemed to be a rabbit burrow. "I think—Godric, that hurts—I think I broke it."

Sirius gingerly set about pulling her foot from its place, setting it on his lap as he pulled out his wand.

"Hermione," Remus panted as he neared them. "Are you alright?"

She looked up at Remus, misty-eyed. "I think I heard a break, or-or felt it."

"Fuck." Remus ran his hand through his hair. "We have literally seconds before moonrise. Can you—Here, can we do a quick fix and reassess in the morning? Pads, can you try to make sure Pup stays off that foot as much as possible?"

"I mean I can certainly try, but—" He looked at Hermione. "I'll try, Pup, don't worry."

She smiled back at him and nodded, her throat still constricted from pain. Sirius ran a thumb over her ankle, noting the swelling had already begun. He waved his wand, muttering a few words under his breath, and Hermione exhaled as the pain lessened into an icy chill before fading into a background hum. Sirius helped her to her feet, taking most of her weight as they made their way back to the house. They stopped just inside the door, Hermione summoning an old oversized t-shirt to slip into before the change. Sirius left her balancing as he stood outside the door to wait. She knocked on the door when she was ready and he helped her back out into the night.

Remus and Hermione settled down beneath the big tree, their bodies counting down the last seconds before the moon took over. Peter, James and Sirius turned back into their forms and wandered a ways a way, giving the lycanthropes space to change themselves. And then they waited for the howls to begin.

The change back was always hard for Pup. Not physically, but mentally. It meant making herself small again and waiting patiently for the little moments when she could run free. She wanted to do more though, be more. She wanted to protect and defend, fight and help. It wasn't Hermione's fault, not really. Remus just wasn't willing to entertain the idea that there was so much more to being a werewolf than being a danger. He knew about their resistance to legilimency, to veritaserum. He knew their senses were stronger. Couldn't he tell there was more they were capable of? But he was their Alpha. She understood that. So she did what she could, and when the moon's influence started to wane, she settled into Hermione, her heart breaking as she watched Moony get pulled under Remus' will, his eyes wide and hungry like he was gasping for a final breath.

Hermione awoke slowly, her body curling under the weighty blanket one of the boys had laid over her. She yawned and stretched as her eyes adjusted to the light of day. She rolled over to check on Remus who slept on beside her. He needed rest. They all needed rest. She smiled down at him before rising to her feet, pulling the blanket tight around her naked body. Despite the passing of the full moon, her senses were still strong and the smells of breakfast cooking in the house called out to her. She closed her eyes, breathing in deep, before setting off to find the others.

"No, I think we're fine without the blood-replenisher," Sirius was saying, his back to the door as he fussed over something on the stove. "No major wounds last night. But maybe pull out some shit for bruises."

"Morning, Pup," James smiled at her as he pulled out a pot of bruise paste from their supplies cabinet. "How you feeling?"

"Never better." She made her way over to where Sirius stood tending some bacon. "Remus' still sleeping. Did you all get any rest?"

"A bit. Pete's crashed on the couch right now. I wanted to be awake in case—" He looked down at her bare feet. "—in case you needed help. How's your foot?"

"Oh." Hermione looked down and flexed her foot around. "Totally fine, actually. I guess I overreacted on thinking it was broken."

"Figured as much. You were a little shaky at first, but I couldn't keep Pup still after a while. Could only hope that meant you were okay, so I'm glad last night didn't make it any worse."

"Not at all. I think running around as Pup was probably just what I needed." She couldn't help the lilt of wistfulness in her voice.

"Good." Sirius leaned over to kiss the top of her head. "Get changed and then go see James for some potions. I'm just finishing up here. We've got bacon and more stuff coming out, but if there's anything you need…"

"I know." Her smile brought the light of day into his corner of the kitchen.

Hermione let James fuss over her as they waited for Sirius to finish with breakfast. By the time they were sitting down at the table, Peter and Remus had made their way in as well. They laughed over coffee, tossed bits of bacon at each other, and retold stories they'd all lived through together. It was a sweet but forgettable morning after the full moon, much like many of the ones that had come before it. There wasn't anything momentous discussed, nothing serious to resolve. The only remarkable thing about that morning was that it would be the last of its kind.

March 1980

Potter Manor

"Is this how you pictured spending your twentieth birthday?"

James looked up from the pile of baby clothes he was sorting through to see his wife watching him with wide eyes. He winked at her and smiled. "With you? Always."

"Obviously," Lily rolled her eyes. "But I mean, here, in this house, just the two of us. Setting up a nursery, for god's sake."

"Lil, I can honestly say that even in my wildest dreams, I never thought I'd get this lucky."

"And you're happy?"

James set down the onesie he was folding and walked over to Lily, taking her by the arms. "Is that what this is about?"

"I mean, it's a lot, isn't it?" She smiled softly. "I know we talked about it, but the reality is a bit different than just talking. There's a war going on, and we're both working and helping with the Order. I just—" She breathed. "I feel like any free time we have is slowly starting to be eaten up by this baby thing. You could've been out at the pub with the boys, or-or at another concert. And instead, you're here with me, setting up furniture and sorting through clothes."

"Lil, every day I wake up to your face and remember that I'm the luckiest bastard in the world." He lifted her chin with his thumb and forefinger, staring into her eyes. "This is the life I used to dream about. I can always meet up with Marauders. But this? This is a moment I can't miss. We only get to set up a nursery for the first time once. Every single day with you—as my wife, as the mother of my child, as my best friend—it's the most precious thing in the world to me."

"Even though I'm getting fat."

Mischief danced back into his eyes. "Even though you're getting fat."

She swat at him with the blanket she'd been folding and refolding. He laughed and kissed her, one hand on her growing bump and the other woven into her hair. When he pulled back, she was breathless for a moment, a soft smile sliding into place on her face as she watched him.

"Sometimes I dream about him," she whispered, keeping him close to her. "Have you told the others yet?"

"That he's a boy? No. I think Hermione's guessed, but no. They'd try to corrupt him already." His smirk faded and softened. "What do you dream about?"

"I don't really know. Just holding him, I guess." Lily closed her eyes. "Sometimes I think I can see his face. In my mind, he looks a lot like you."

"Lucky man."

"They're never about him though. But in all my dreams lately, he's there. And I'm holding him or playing with him or—" She opened her eyes. "It's scary, isn't it? That we're bringing a life into the world. And he'll be so little and-and defenseless and little."

"And he'll have a literal army of people looking out for him." James rubbed up and down Lily's arms. "Have you talked to Alice recently?"

"A bit. We've been writing each other some. I kind of feel bad, though."

"Why?"

"I feel like I'm pestering her. I know she's a first time mum like me, but she's a little older and thus wiser and-and I feel like she has everything under control."

"Believe me, according to Frank, they're just as nervous as we are."

"It has been nice, though, talking with someone who understands."

"Do you think—Do you want to have them over for dinner soon? We can stress out over this in good company then."

"Ooh, yes. That would be nice."

"Good, then it's sorted."

They pulled away from each other, back to their separate tasks, but took a step or two closer. James thought about turning up the radio, but he didn't want to sever the moment. The soft notes floating around them were enough.

"I wrote to Severus."

James froze, the onesie in his hands spooling open from its half-fold.

"James?"

"No, I heard you. I'm-I'm trying to decide how I'm going to react."

Lily pursed her lips and waited. "And how are you going to react?"

"You'll know when I know," he sighed. He stared up at the ceiling and blinked. "I just—Lil, you just talked about how scary it is bringing a baby into a world that is going through war. Why? Why would you invite more danger in?"

"He's my friend, James."

"I know, but—" He ran his hand through his hair, pulling slightly at the roots. "I'm having a hard time trusting this to be a good idea. He's been off doing his mastery, right? Do you even know what he's been up to? How-how do you know he hasn't also been caught up in this Death Eater business?"

"I know him, James."

He looked up at her finally. "You knew him."

"That's not fair. I do know him. People don't change who they are in their hearts. He's passionate about potions, about his studies. He wouldn't let anything jeopardize that."

"Lil, you can't predict what a desperate man is capable of."

"Well, it's already done, so I don't know what you want me to do about it." Lily stepped away to fuss with the mobile hanging over the crib.

"I want you to be careful." James tracked her with his eyes. "I want all of us to be careful. Fuck, Lil, you have to know if anything ever happened to you, it would kill me."

Lily closed her eyes. She took a breath and returned to James's side, wrapping her arms around him. "Breathe, love. I'm fine." Her body vibrated as James groaned into her hair. "Baby's fine, too. I wrote a letter to an old friend. Nothing more. I'm not trying to rebuild what Severus and I once had, but I will always consider him a friend. You have to trust me."

"I know. I know. And I do, Lil, more than anything. I'm just—I just—" He clenched his jaw tight. "You dream about the baby, right? You know what I dream about?"

She shook her head against his chest.

"I dream about this life we've built. I dream about us, in this house, with our friends. The only difference is there is no war. There is no stress, no fighting. No death."

"Then let's make a promise. You and me, right here." Lily stepped back and held out her hand. "In this house, no war can touch us. No stress, no fighting. In this house, we are happy and healthy and safe. Death cannot reach what is protected by these walls. The only thing here is warmth and laughter and-and happiness. And love. So much fucking love. Promise?"

"I promise." He shook her hand, keeping it in his as he pulled her in for a kiss.

"I love you, James Potter."

"I love you so much, Lily."

The Red Lion, Muggle London

"Welcome to the club, mate." Sirius held out his mug of beer to cheers. "And once again, the strays are all the same age. Here's to twenty!"

Remus and Hermione clinked their glasses against Sirius' before taking long drinks.

"Now, in the age-old tradition, my friend," Sirius continued, leaning forward toward Remus. "How does it feel?"

Remus rolled his eyes and laughed. "Like I'm too old for your bullshit, Pads."

"See, it's a good thing I know you so well. That may be what you're saying, but I know what you really mean is Padfoot, you are my bestest friend and a god among men."

"Of course, what else would I mean." Remus drank some more from his glass. "But as far as birthdays go, I've no complaints. I'm just glad we graduated from celebrating in the shack."

"Oh, but don't you kind of miss it?"

"Fuck no," Remus deadpanned. Hermione giggled beside him.

"Okay, okay, swear-wolf, maybe not the moons, but we had some fun nights there, remember?"

"Are we really going to do a remember-the-glory-days bit?"

"Um, they're called glory days for a reason."

"We did have some good times."

"Ha! There he is."

"You two are ridiculous." Hermione smiled. "But I, for one, am glad I got to witness at least a year of your glory days."

"As are we, Pup." Sirius winked at her. "Feel free to run through my highlights."

"Your highlights? It's Remus' day. Should be all about him."

"No, please I beg you."

"You were my first friend at Hogwarts, you know." Her gut twisted at the twisted truth of the statement. "I suppose it's a bit lucky I landed in the hospital wing first thing."

"Oh Merlin, I completely forgot about that." Remus' eyes twinkled. "Man, I just couldn't believe that there was another werewolf at Hogwarts."

Hermione beamed. "And you were the best professor, too, showing me the lycanth-ropes, if you will."

"Oh, boo." Sirius nudged her, but was unable to stop a grin.

"You know I'm honestly surprised our moons went so well at the beginning. Moony'd never shared a moon with another werewolf before."

"Well, that's not exactly true, right?" Sirius cocked his head. "What about our first year? I thought there was another wolf there."

"Another wolf?" Hermione blinked.

"Well, yeah, maybe. I dunno. It's hard to remember. It may have been nothing. Or it may have been some other creature from the forest. That first year was kind of traumatizing, I think I just didn't want to be alone. I didn't want to be the only thing out at night." The mood around their table darkened.

"A rabbit died that year." Sirius leaned toward Hermione to explain.

"He told me." Hermione kept her eyes on Remus.

Remus kept his eyes on Sirius. "You mean I killed a rabbit that year."

Sirius clenched his jaw. Hermione placed a hand on Remus' arm, pulling his attention back to her. "I will forever be grateful you were there to help me through the first full moons. I wouldn't be here without you, Remus."

Remus managed a smile, the fog around them lifting ever so slowly. Sirius nodded and raised his glass.

"Here's to the full moon's we've spent together and the one's yet to come. And may neither of you ever spend them alone."

The Flat above Ancient & Antiquated

From the second he woke up, Peter knew it was going to be a shit day. It shouldn't have been. Birthdays were supposed to be happy, celebrated, full. But Peter just felt empty, like a neglected cauldron with acid slicked to the sides slowly eating away at the pewter. He closed his eyes as he tilted his chin to the ceiling. Everything felt empty lately. He was struggling to connect to his own fucking life. Fuck. Was it war? Was it growing up? Was this how adults felt all the time? Did his friends feel like this? No, of course they didn't. Just a glance at their lives would tell him otherwise. James and Lily? The couples living their dreams despite the height of war? Sirius, Hermione, and Remus? Best friends living some picturesque country life funded by immeasurable Black wealth? They'd been out of school for almost two years and what did Peter have to show for it? A dusty old shop and an empty apartment. He clenched his jaw.

He needed a drink.

Groaning, he pulled himself out of bed. His body hurt all the time now. It didn't feel like his own. Peter stretched for a minute before turning in place. With a pop and fizz, he shrunk down to his Animagus form and scurried from the bedroom, skittering over discarded clothes, unopened mail, and dirty dishes as he made his way to the small kitchen. He took the long way, savoring the escape into Wormtail. It was one of the things the texts all warned about, falling victim to the animal form, but it was the only thing that he could feel.

Reaching the kitchen counter, he rose to his full height again, his joints popping back into use. He grabbed a bottle of whiskey and looked around for a glass. His eyes glazed over the mess he could no longer see until they settles on the cup he'd been reusing over and over for weeks now. A quick rinse and then he could fill it up again with enough dark liquor to feed his jealousy and pain.

The first sip burned. It hurt. But as Peter ground his teeth against the fire in his throat, he sneered. Sirius never had any problem throwing back this swill. He never coughed or choked or grimaced.

The second sip numbed. It spread. Peter could feel it infecting his insides, and he closed his eyes, his hands white-knuckled against the cup. Twenty years old. What a joke. Something inside him felt decades older.

The third sip now. The third sip settled. It lingered against his teeth and breath like dragonfire. He should probably stop. What would his friends say if they saw him like this? He licked a falling drop of whiskey from the side of the cup. Fuck, that's good. No, but they wouldn't see him like this. When was the last time any of his friends had ventured to the flat above the shop? James, Sirius, and Remus? Please, they hadn't been around in ages. Sure, he saw them at Order meetings and the occasional Sunday night dinner they cobbled together, but they never came to him. And sure, Hermione came around every so often, but it wasn't to see him; it wasn't for him. When she came, she fought with him, criticized and belittled him. Her eyes darting about the shop, his face, his body like he left something to be desired. Because of course she did. Because to her, he was weak and small. Nothing compared to the men she lived with. He'd seen it in her face when he'd been injured in the Samhain battle. He'd seen the way her face had contorted in unearned disgust and the way her eyes lit up when the others had returned.

What was the use of it all? Peter drained the cup, his lip catching on a sharp detail of the decorative edge. He started to bleed. Why should he keep trying to revive dying friendships? What the fuck was he even doing? His eyes shadowed as he refilled the cup once more, taking in gulps as blood tanged the whiskey on his tongue. Who said they were worth it anyway? Everyone thought they were so great, but they weren't gods. They were just lucky. Lucky fucking bastards living off spoils from a system they played at fighting against. Lucky fucking bastards who had never been humbled.

No, they weren't gods. They were just like him, just as vulnerable, just as mortal.

Peter took another sip from the cup, the darkness swirling in his gut. Maybe the next time Death Eaters attacked, he wouldn't stand in the way.

Chapter Title Translation: *For How Much Longer?