"When were you going to tell me that your brother was a werewolf?" James cornered Hermione in a secluded alcove just outside the Transfiguration classroom.
"It wasn't my secret to tell, Potter." She tried to keep walking, but the Gryffindor blocked her path. "Can you get out of my way? I have places to be."
James sighed, feeling a weight on his shoulders. He couldn't believe what he was about to do. "I need your help, Lupin."
Hermione looked at him carefully, unsure of what to make of the situation. James had teased her countless times, intentionally trying to push her buttons. He was nothing like Harry, and she found it challenging to navigate her interactions with him. He was arrogant, possessive of the castle like it belonged to him, but underneath that exterior, she had glimpsed a good heart. She had noticed the worry etched on James's face every time her brother appeared with a new scar after the full moons.
"So the rumors are true," she smirked knowingly, watching as James blushed. The Gryffindor was an open book, wearing his feelings on his sleeve and occasionally coming off as intense. "James Potter likes Lily Evans."
"Your brother and Sirius suggested that I talk to you," he confessed, running a hand through his hair, further mussing it up. "Apparently, according to my friends, all I do is make a fool of myself."
Hermione looked at him with an unusual fondness. It was not common to see the usually arrogant James Potter appear vulnerable. She genuinely hoped things between him and Lily would work out because, otherwise, Harry would not exist, and she terribly missed her black-haired, green-eyed best friend.
"I'll help you," James's eyes shone hopefully. "On one condition," she added with a small smile.
"Whatever it is, I'll do it." He made a puppy face, big hazel eyes behind his glasses, bottom lip sticking out, and his head tilting slightly.
"Call me Hermione." She rolled her eyes. "You're my brother's friend, so I suppose a truce wouldn't be bad if I'm going to see you more often."
James put on a charming smile and extended his hand. "Then call me James; it's only fair. Now that we're friends, I was wondering if you would help the boys and me get certain items." He said the latter in a conspiratorial voice.
"Potter, don't push it, or I'll regret agreeing to be friends." The second-year Ravenclaw was already walking at a brisk pace down the hallway without looking back.
"You know you love me, Lupin," James's cheerful voice echoed throughout the hallway as he watched his best friend's sister walk away. "She's going to be the death of me," he thought, shaking his head, and walked in the opposite direction, his mind shifting to the Chaser position he had to secure.
"Mia, I need cuddles," Barty exclaimed, pouting as soon as she appeared through the library door.
"You're a fucking hoarder, Crouch. I need cuddles too. You see Mia every day," Evan snapped at Barty, throwing a cushion at his friend from the nearest chair.
Suddenly, Hermione found herself surrounded by two arms, and in her line of vision, a familiar mop with black curls appeared—Regulus. Hermione's friends, who were watching the scene, looked at her without being able to comprehend what was happening. "Boys," the four of them thought.
"If you don't shut up, Madam Pince is going to throw us out. Why did you call me?" She barely managed to sit in a chair because Regulus wouldn't let go, making her huff in annoyance. "Fucking high-maintenance boys."
"Do you remember how this summer we were finishing fixing the, you-know-what?" Hermione rolled her eyes at how Evan had called Pandemonium but nodded anyway. "Well, I stumbled upon this."
The silver-haired Slytherin took out a photo, a mask, and a ring from a black box, watched by six pairs of curious eyes. "Cain's Order is real and not a myth, here is the proof."
Regulus took the photo, and they passed it on. "What are our parents doing in that photo? What the hell is Cain's Order?"
"Cain's Orden comes from Cain, who is a Muggle biblical figure and is considered the first murderer in history, as he killed his brother Abel. God, another Muggle figure, punished Cain but then marked him with a sign—the inverted F that you see in the background of the photo—saying that the one who killed Cain would be avenged seven times."
The six of them stared at Hermione with their mouths open. Evan was the first to speak, "You knew about this, and you didn't tell us?" putting a hand on his chest, offended.
"My father bears the mark of Cain on his finger, which is what usually happens when you put on the ring that is awarded to you when you join the order." she rambled, as no one yet dared to speak. "Guys, say something, don't stare at me like that. I'm not crazy."
"Let's see if I understood this correctly," Regulus began, massaging his temples, "is Cain's Order a secret society within Hogwarts?"
"Yes and no. It is an international organization with headquarters in each country." She explained without giving much detail. "It started as an organized crime organization that was dedicated to all kinds of things, especially bribery and influence peddling, but over time things calmed down. Many leaders of the muggle world and the wizarding world have fallen because of Cain's Order. The mark is not something that you choose; it chooses you."
"How do we know if the mark of Cain has chosen us?" Arabella asked, breaking her silence, her tone slightly skeptical.
"On the seventh floor, there is a mark of Cain, and behind it, there is a room only for the bearers of the mark." As soon as she said those words, everyone got up from their respective chairs towards the stairs to the seventh floor.
"I'm tired," Evan complained, lying face down on the floor, "why is that damn mark so hard to find?
"Stop being a whiny baby and help us, will you? I'm tired too, but I find this most interesting." Alice was putting her hair up in a ponytail, while the rest of her looked for any sign of the mark.
"Technically, Evan should be able to find it. He's the first one to be given the ring." Everyone turned to look him dead in the eye, causing him to back away until he hit a wall, "Guys, calm down."
"Rosier, put the ring on and stop the bullshit. You owe us a round of butterbeers at Gatsby's for having all of us looking like fools for something you could find." Arabella mumbled, tiredly sitting on the floor. Evan listened, and a few minutes later, a light knock was heard at the end of the hallway, making everyone's ears perk up.
"Isn't anyone going to dare to open any box? I'm getting old waiting," Lucy asked, and they all ventured to open the various boxes scattered around the room.
The room was as large as a common room, with black leather couches, a fireplace, several tables, and multiple chairs. There were also a few shelves with books and on the opposite side, a kind of armory. Near the octagonal table in the center, there was a kind of bar counter like the one in Pandemonium, opening several drawers where they found cutlery, plates, glasses, and cups. It was like a small apartment.
"This is fucking amazing." Barty took off his shoes and threw himself on the couch, laughing because Evan had imitated him and ended up on the floor. The others soon joined the party, starting a cushion fight in which poor Evan was being the most hit. "Abuse, guys. This is abuse," he screamed, trying to shield himself from the attacks.
In the quiet corners of the Hogwarts library, Lily leaned in toward her friend, who was diligently taking Potions notes.
"What is Potter doing here, and why is he looking at me in that... creepy way?" Lily whispered, her eyes narrowing suspiciously at James, who was seated just in front of them, sighing happily and gazing at her with evident infatuation.
Hermione raised her head, momentarily leaving her quill on the table, and observed the scene. "From the way he looks at you, I'd say he likes you," she remarked casually before returning to her notes. Lily raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "Potter, can you stop looking at me like that?"
James, undeterred, suddenly blurted out, "Fancy a date with me, Evans?" He wore his best smile, attempting to persuade his secret crush.
"No," Lily replied shortly, echoing her friend's focus on homework.
"Oh, come on, Evans. What about a couple of butterbeers and some kisses at the end of the date if everything goes well?" James moved his chair closer, attempting to charm Lily into agreeing.
"The answer is no, and it will continue to be no." Lily got up, huffing angrily and gathering her things. "Mia, I'm sorry, but it's impossible to study in peace with him here. Tomorrow we'll talk, and I'll give you my DADA notes." Hermione nodded understandingly, and without acknowledging James, Lily left them alone.
"What have I done? This wasn't supposed to happen like this," James groaned dramatically, banging his head on the table.
"James, stop, you're going to hurt yourself, and you won't let me work in peace," Hermione sighed heavily. It was futile to continue taking notes with the distraught boy by her side. "Have you tried being just friends first? Just say hello to her, and don't start rambling how beautiful her hair is or comparing her eyes to emeralds."
"But her hair is very pretty, and her eyes shine like emeralds, Hermione," James sighed dreamily, resting his head on his hand. "Someday I will marry her."
"Your father is an idiot, Harry," Hermione lamented, rubbing her temples. "James, Lily won't even give you the time of day, and you want her to consider marrying you?"
"See? That's why I need your help. Sirius isn't any help, your brother is busy being his cranky self, and Pete doesn't even have an opinion. Be honest with me, Mia, would you go on a date with me? I play Quidditch, I have good grades, and I'm handsome." The Gryffindor wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, pulling his chair closer to hers
"But you're also arrogant and self-centered, so my answer is no. Plus, you're thirteen years old; you don't even know what love is," she scoffed, laughing humorously.
"And what do you know about love? Having Crouch, Rosier, and Black wrapped around your fingers doesn't mean anything. That's just plain pity. The moment you stop being useful to them, they'll stop talking to you. They don't hang out with—" James spat venomously, his cheeks flushed. The verbal assault made Hermione flinch back and made students studying in nearby tables turn their heads.
"They don't hang out with who, Potter?" Hermione hissed, standing up towering over him. "With half-bloods? Is that what you meant?"
"I don't—That's not— They're Slytherins, Hermione, they manipulate people."
"Fuck you, James, and your fucking insecurities. Next time you talk to me, you better be on your fucking knees and begging."
Hermione ran out of the library, attempting to calm down and hold back her tears. She was tired and felt like she couldn't take it anymore. She longed to experience the warmth of hugging Harry again, hear Ron's nonsense at the Sunday lunches at Burrow, and watch Disney movies with Teddy while enjoying popcorn.
"Hey, shhh, let it all out," Sirius' voice cooed as he enveloped her in his arms. "James is a dickhead. He's Lilyfied." Hermione managed a watery giggle. "Brain dead when it comes to Evans."
"Thank you for the hug; I needed it." Hermione separated from Sirius, who looked at her with sadness. "I'm sorry I ruined your shirt."
"Haven't you heard, Lupin? I'm rich. The money comes out of my ass, I'm like a fucking ATM machine. What difference does it make to have one less shirt?" Sirius smiled arrogantly, puffing out his chest. "You're a fool," she lightly punched him in the chest.
"But at least I made you laugh, and that's what matters most to me. You're like a little sister to me, and as much as James is my best friend, you're more important. Besides, if there's one thing I agree with my mother is that you should never make a woman cry." Sirius put his arm around Hermione's shoulders, making her rest her head on his shoulder. "He'll come around, this infatuation she has with Evans will die down and then he'll have to apologize to you."
The next morning, Sirius swaggered into the Great Hall, his black shirt adorned with neon green letters that screamed defiance. "FUCK YOU POTTER" boldly displayed across the front, and "I KNOW HOW TO GET THE GIRL" on the back. Heads turned as he confidently made his way to the Ravenclaw table, a sly grin playing on his lips.
Hermione, engrossed in a book, glanced up at Sirius with a raised eyebrow. He winked at her before taking a seat beside her. Rolling her eyes, she couldn't suppress a small smile, appreciating Sirius's unconventional way of cheering her up.
Across the Great Hall, Evan and Regulus, seated at the Slytherin table, exchanged puzzled glances as they watched the scene unfold, wondering what had transpired. Their curiosity piqued, they leaned in to eavesdrop on a nearby Slytherin student who seemed to have insider information.
Evan leaned in, curiosity evident in his voice, "What's going on over there?"
A sly Slytherin student, overhearing their inquiry, smirked and leaned back, relishing the opportunity to spill the tea. "Well, it seems there was quite the showdown in the library. Potter and Lupin had a nasty fight."
Regulus raised an eyebrow, "A fight? What about?"
The Slytherin student grinned, "Potter implied that purebloods like you, Evan, and Crouch Jr were only friends with her out of pity."
Evan scowled, anger flickering in his eyes, "That git! How dare he?"
Before they could react, Sirius stood up on the Ravenclaw table, his voice magically amplified. "Hermione Lupin is ,as of today, under the protection of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black!" he declared, his eyes flashing with intensity. "She will be treated with the respect she deserves."
He shot a menacing glance at James Potter, who was now the center of attention. "Anyone uttering an ill word towards Hermione will answer to me," Sirius continued, his voice carrying through the Great Hall. "Or my brother. Or perhaps both, depending on our mood.", he finished his speech by double flipping the bird toward his friend.
The Gryffindor table was tense, the air heavy with the weight of an unexpected rift. Peter sat across from James, his eyes wide with disbelief. It was rare to witness Sirius and James in a heated argument; their friendship was like a bond forged in steel. However, something had gone horribly wrong this time.
"What did you say to her, James?" Peter finally asked, his voice wavering with uncertainty.
James sighed, a heavy weight settling on his shoulders. He had messed up, and he knew it. Lily, standing nearby, couldn't contain her anger. Her emerald eyes bore into James, accusing him of some unforgivable act. "Your little friend told Hermione that Crouch, Rosier, and Black were only friends with her out of pity. He said that purebloods like them didn't hang out with people like her," she spat out, her voice dripping with disdain. "Don't you dare speak to me again, Potter, and certainly don't go near Hermione. If your pureblood self can't hang with half-bloods, it shouldn't hang with people like me, right? I'm just a mudblood after all."
"Lily, I don't—it's not true," James stammered, desperately trying to salvage the situation. He watched helplessly as Lily rose from her seat and marched toward the Ravenclaw table. How had he managed to screw up so badly?
Peter, usually the quieter and more reserved of his friends, spoke up with a trembling voice. "So you and I shouldn't be friends, right? I'm a half-blood, and you're a pureblood."
James looked up at Peter, his wide eyes filled with remorse. He shook his head repeatedly. "We are friends, Peter. How can you think otherwise? Rosier and Black are Slytherin; it's not the same."
"The double standards you have for certain things disgust me, James." Peter's hurt and betrayal was evident in his eyes, and it cut James deep. He had never contradicted James before; they had been friends since childhood, and the black-haired boy had rescued him from a life of abuse. "Right now, I can't even look at your face, and I feel sorry for you when Remus finds out what you said to his little sister."
The Gryffindor common room was dimly lit, the embers in the fireplace casting a soft glow on the room's occupants. James sat on one of the worn-out sofas, absentmindedly flipping through a Quidditch magazine. Remus Lupin entered the room, his usually calm demeanor overshadowed by a palpable tension.
Remus's eyes fell on James, and a stern expression settled on his face. Without a word, he walked over and grabbed James by the collar, pulling him up to his feet. Sirius and Peter looked on in surprise, their conversation hushing as the atmosphere grew charged.
"What the fuck, Remus?" James exclaimed, attempting to free himself from Remus's grip. The room fell silent as Remus spoke, his voice low and dangerous.
"Took me some time to find out what you said to Hermione because nobody would fucking tell me, but you can send a fucking bouquet to Regulus and Evan for this," Remus said through gritted teeth, his amber eyes locked onto James's. "You crossed a line, Potter. You don't talk to my sister like that."
James's eyes widened, realizing the gravity of the situation. "Remus, it wasn't—"
"Don't," Remus interrupted, his grip tightening. "I don't want to hear excuses. You hurt her, and that's unacceptable. You need to learn a lesson."
Without warning, he drew back his fist and swung it with a swift and controlled motion. The punch landed squarely on James's jaw, the impact echoing through the common room.
James stumbled backward, his hand instinctively reaching for his jaw. He looked at Remus with a mix of shock and hurt. "What was that for?"
"That was for my sister," Remus spat out, his voice seething with anger. "You don't get to talk down to her or belittle her just because she's not from some fucked up pureblood family. You're a fucking coward and an insecure piece of shit. All my sister wanted to do was help you win over a girl who clearly doesn't want anything to do with you and, that's how you repay her?"
James rubbed his jaw, still processing the sudden turn of events. Remus, however, wasn't finished. He took a step closer to James, his gaze piercing. "Consider this a warning, Potter. Stay away from Hermione. If you can't treat her with the respect she deserves, I won't hesitate to make sure you understand."
The room remained tense, the air thick with unspoken tension. Remus released his grip on James's collar, letting him stumble backward. Without another word, Remus turned and walked away.