[A/N: Thank you to Calamity Owl for beta-reading this chapter!]
Hermione was well ahead of where she where she'd intended to be in her Transfiguration and Charms studies by that week (Potions was right on track), so, with the exceptions of her regular study sessions, she spent most of the rest of the week once Harry went back to work helping Nev in his greenhouses. Nev was still worried about Sue until she went back to desk-only work on Friday, so Sue came by during the first couple of sessions just so Nev could fuss over her.
Half an hour into her session with Nev on Friday morning, Hermione called a halt to things. "Nev, we need to stop," she said.
He put down the bag of dragon dung he was holding. "Sure. What's wrong?"
"You are," Hermione said. "You've been out of sorts all morning and I'm worried you're going to get us both killed."
Nev glared at her. "I know what I'm doing," he said. "Harry's just taking the mickey with all of those comments about my dangerous plants. That's no excuse to lecture me on your third lesson."
She flipped back through her notes. "Yesterday, you told me only to fertilise venomous tentacula with mooncalf dung because dragon dung would cause it to explode in both size and aggression."
"Right," he said. "What's your point?"
Hermione wordlessly gestured with her quill at the dragon dung bag at his feet and then the venomous tentacula plant five yards ahead of him.
"Merlin's pants!" Nev said. "OK, you're right. We're taking a break."
She nodded and followed him out of the greenhouse. "Do you want to talk about anything?" she asked.
He sighed. "I don't even know."
"Are you upset that Sue's gone back to work already?"
"No, I'm upset that both of my best friends nearly died in the space of ten seconds!" he said. "If that had been a Killing Curse instead of a Cruciatus, Sue would never have gotten back up, and there was probably only a 50-50 chance Harry would have gotten a potion for that Ennervating Curse in time if you hadn't given him the one you brewed. And now they're both back at it as if nothing happened."
"It's not as if nothing happened for Harry," Hermione said. "He took it pretty hard."
"He shouldn't. He's probably the reason she's still alive," Nev replied. "She wouldn't be the first temporarily incapacitated Auror killed by a Dark Wizard right before they were captured. If Harry hadn't pulled that insane stunt that nearly got him killed to draw fire, one of them might have killed her while they were fighting off her backup in the door."
"I hadn't thought of it like that," Hermione said. "I knew Harry nearly didn't make it, but I didn't realise how close Sue came to dying, too."
"It's all I've been able to think of for a few days," Nev said. "I don't have all that many friends, so those two mean the world to me. Losing either would break my heart, and I'm not sure I could take losing both of them at the same time."
"I understand," Hermione said. "It's been years since I had any real friends. I had a panic attack when I heard Harry had been hurt."
"I'm sorry," Nev said. "I've been so wrapped up in my own worries that I didn't ask how you'd been doing."
"Better," Hermione said. "Just seeing him alive each morning helps."
"I know what you mean," Nev said. "That's one of the reasons I've been dragging Sue over here. I wish…" he trailed off and shook his head.
Hermione pursed her lips and stared at him. "You wish you could be there with them?"
"Yeah. Stupid, isn't it?"
"Not at all!" Hermione said. "I wish I could, too. I've been sneaking time with my DADA books instead of some of my mandatory relaxation time so I can take fighting lessons sooner."
Nev blinked. "OK, let's put a pin in the DADA lessons. Why do you have 'mandatory relaxation time'?"
"Um…Harry was concerned I was studying too much, so he made me add relaxation time to my schedule for each day. I really don't see how you can study too much, though. It's just so interesting! And I'm getting a good seven hours—OK, maybe six hours—of sleep each night, so that's plenty."
"I think I see why Harry insisted," Nev said. "I won't snitch on you, but maybe you should spend a little more time sleeping and getting fresh air. You'll be stuck indoors all winter, anyway, so you might as well enjoy autumn."
"Oh, good," Hermione said. "You're right. I can study way more during the winter, so I'll take a little more time off now so Harry can't get too upset when I don't take time off later."
"That wasn't what I…nevermind," Nev said. "I think we're just going to have to set up regular lunches all winter to keep you from losing your mind by spring, aren't we?"
She glared at him. "This is how I finished my last year at uni with top honours, I'll have you know."
"Um…" Nev floundered for a bit, then charged ahead. "Hermione, I don't know quite how to say this, but didn't you just tell me that you didn't really have any friends, either?"
"Oh." Hermione took a step back. "I promised myself I wouldn't screw this up, but I'm doing it again, aren't I? I push away every good thing in my life and I never even notice until it's too late."
"It's OK," Nev said. "That's what we're here for. Just…let us help you, alright? Let us be your friends."
She nodded, not quite trusting her voice just then.
"Good. You can do this without driving yourself insane, trust me." He gestured back to the greenhouse. "I think venomous tentacula is a NEWT-level plant, and you've already started getting the hang of dealing with it."
"Thank you," Hermione said. "For both that and keeping me sane. I feel like I've got a chance for a new life now and I don't want to screw it up, but I'm not sure I know how not to."
"That's what friends are for," Nev said.
She smiled back. "Oh, that reminds me, DADA lessons. I'm going to start training with Remus once I've finished reviewing the books. We've decided to let me get some time to practise spellcasting first and do the Dark Creature portion of the class entirely by reading. Maybe in a couple of months we'll start actual duelling training. Would you like to come, too? I know it won't make you an Auror, but it might help you if you ever needed to watch Sue's back."
"I'd like that, thank you," Nev said. "Until it was destroyed during that wendigo incident, my grandmother made me use my father's wand. It didn't work well for me, so my practicals were always awful and I missed out on a lot of training I'd have otherwise gotten in school. I caught up on some of it by working extra hard during Harry's Defence Club sessions in Sixth Year, at least."
"Defence Club?" Hermione asked.
"Yeah, Percy Weasley was our DADA instructor Sixth Year and he wouldn't teach us any actual self-defence. He and his boss at the ministry, a vile woman named Dolores Umbridge, thought that we should only learn how to identify Dark spells and run away from them, with only certain Ministry-approved individuals being allowed to fight back," Neville explained. "A bunch of us banded together and convinced Harry to teach us DADA so we could study properly for our NEWTs. That ended up saving hundreds of lives because many of us learned the Patronus Charm well enough to shield and we protected people in Hogsmeade from the Dementors until Harry was able to run them off."
"That must have been terrifying!" Hermione said.
Nev nodded. "It was. Harry was on a date with Ginny that weekend, and Sue and I ended up alongside a few of our other friends defending a couple of dozen younger students on one of the main streets until Prongs appeared." He shuddered. "We nearly lost three Firsties, one right in front of me. I still have nightmares about that sometimes."
"I don't blame you," Hermione said. "It's amazing you were able to protect them, though."
"Harry brings out the amazing in people," Nev said. "I think I heard something about you tracking down a serial killer for him?"
Hermione blushed. "I just helped him sort out some ideas, that's all."
"That's not what he told me," Nev said. "You'd be up for at least a Meritorious Assistance to the Ministry medal for that if we could tell anyone about you, you know."
"I was just trying to help him," Hermione said.
Nev grinned. "Like I said: he brings out the amazing in all of us."
Between the study sessions, lunch meetings, weekly dinners with the Boys (as she'd begun to think of Sirius and Remus), dates her amazing boyfriend forced her to accompany him on (quelle horror!), and the mundane chores she shared with Harry, the remainder of October quickly disappeared. Hermione was celebrating completing her abbreviated trip through the First-Year Charms, Transfigurations, and Potions curricula with Sue at lunch on the last Friday of the month when the other woman broached a delicate topic.
"How are you and Harry doing?" Sue asked. "I haven't forgotten our past conversations about that and I want to make sure you're both alright."
"We're doing OK," Hermione said. "We…um…I am taking it slow, but I think we're in a good place. I'm really happy with him and he seems really happy with me, though I'm not sure I understand why some days."
"I think I can show you," Sue said. "First, though, can you tell me what you like about Harry?"
"Of course," Hermione replied. "He's a caring person with a strong sense of justice…and incredibly fit."
"Those are great reasons," Sue said, "and I want you to remember them."
The blonde woman waved over their waitress and convincingly faked a smile. "Hey," she said, "my friend here hasn't spent much time home in the UK since she was little, so there are some things she doesn't really understand. Could you help me explain to her why Harry Potter is so amazing?"
"She doesn't know?" the waitress rolled her eyes and popped a bit of chewing gum. The bubble burst into a tiny bird and flew away. "Well, to start with, he took out You-Know-Who when he was just a baby, was the Tri-Wizard Champion, then won an Order of Merlin, became a Quidditch star, and then gave that up so he could become an Auror and hunt Dark Wizards. On top of that, he's gorgeous and absolutely loaded. The only reason he's not Witch Weekly's Most Eligible Bachelor every year is that they banned consecutive awards."
"Thank you," Sue said. "I think that convinced her."
"No worries," the waitress said, and went to check on another table.
Sue turned back to Hermione, who was staring at her in shock. "Do you see what I mean?" Sue asked.
"How on Earth does a random waitress have such a detailed opinion about Harry?" Hermione asked. "I mean, I know celebrity culture is a thing, but this is practically pathological."
"Yes, it is," Sue said. "Harry's spent his whole life dealing with that kind of attention and he hates it. The difference between what you said you liked about him and what she said is that the things you said you liked about him are the things he actually cares about."
"I hadn't thought about it like that," Hermione said.
"You'd have no reason to," Sue said. "Trust me, though. That's why I think you're so good for him." She sighed. "That's also why I'm glad you'll be with Harry on Sunday," Sue said. "We always try to make sure he's not alone on Halloween."
"Oh, of course," Hermione said. "His parents!"
"Right," Sue said. "That night is always hard on him."
"Remus told me that their sacrifice is celebrated as a holiday," Hermione said. "I can only imagine how that must make him feel."
"Same here," Sue said. "At least my parents were killed on a different night, so I don't get sucked into this mess."
"Yours, too?" Hermione asked.
"A few months before Harry's," Sue said. "The sad part is that he and I are arguably luckier than Nev. His parents were Crucio'd into insanity a few days after Harry's parents were killed. Nev goes to visit them at St. Mungo's every year, and every year I watch him die inside a little when they don't react to his presence. Harry and I know our parents are in the ground, but Nev goes every year to meet bags of flesh and bone with his parents' faces."
"That's awful!" Hermione said.
"It is," Sue said. "And the worst part is that his grandmother gets this 'pinched' look on her face each time, like it's Nev's fault they don't recognize him. The look on his face breaks my heart, but he'd never hear the end of it if I slapped the stupid out of that harridan. It still tempts me, though."
"I don't blame you," Hermione said. "Why is she so cruel to him? He's a perfect gentleman and a genius at Herbology who I get the impression makes a sizable amount of money from it. I'd imagine most parents would kill for a child like that."
Sue shrugged. "I've wondered the same thing, and I think the answer is that he's not his father. Frank was a great Auror and one of the most effective members of the Order of the Phoenix in the war. There's a reason the Death Eaters sent four people after them, including the two best duellers in the entire group. Augusta has measured Nev against that standard his whole life and no matter how much he succeeds in other fields, that's the only one she cares about. He's an Herbology genius and a genuinely good man, but he's never enjoyed DADA and that's all that matters to Augusta."
"That's so sad," Hermione said, trying to keep the rest of her thoughts off of her face as she spoke. Nev, who disliked DADA enough to brave his grandmother's disappointment, had jumped at the opportunity to attend her lessons with Remus. What had changed?
She strongly suspected the answer to that question was his feelings for one of the two women at their table, and not once had Nev ever seemed attracted to her.
Silence fell for a moment before Hermione cleared her throat. "Would you mind if I cut our lunch short?" she asked. "I'd like to go and research something."
Sue arched her eyebrows. "Remember what Harry told you about overworking yourself."
Hermione smirked. "Have you been talking about me with Nev?"
Sue met her smirk easily. "Of course."
"I should have known." Hermione laughed. "In this case, though, no. I want to research Mesoamerican culture for Harry."
"Wait, what?" Sue asked.
"I may not be able to help him with whatever you just alluded to," Hermione said, "but I'll see what I can do about Halloween."
Harry awoke to the smell of burnt something on the morning of Halloween. The fire suppression ward would have made an unholy racket if anything were really wrong, but he still grabbed his wand and hurried downstairs to be on the safe side.
He wasn't sure what he expected when he reached the kitchen, but a tearful Hermione holding a baking sheet with two carbonised lumps on it was definitely not it.
"I'm so sorry!" she said. "I was going to surprise you with handmade, freshly baked pan de muerto when you woke up this morning, but I got distracted making some templates for papel picado and lost track of time and now it's ruined! And there's no time to make more because it won't fit in the schedule for the day and it's all ruined before you–"
Harry pulled her into an embrace, careful of the baking sheet just in case it was still hot. "Are you hurt?" he asked, cutting her off.
"No, just my pride," she said, his shirt muffling her words. "And maybe my nostrils. I'd forgotten how much burnt stuff stinks."
"Good," Harry said. "I appreciate you going to the trouble of making me…um…whatever that was, but I'm just happy you're safe."
She hugged him hard with her free arm. "Why do you have to be so agreeable? I feel awful and I feel like you should be disappointed, too."
"I mean, I would have loved to try it," Harry said, "but we can go to the store and get something analogous. The important thing is that you're safe and nothing is on fire. Now, will you tell me what's going on?"
"OK." Hermione set down the pan and allowed Harry to vanish the carbonised loaf remnants. "Sue told me that you have an awful time on Halloween every year, so I wanted to try to make that a little less awful for you. I did some research and thought a modified Mexican Day of the Dead celebration might be a way for you to find some peace today, and I was going to start it by surprising you with some homemade Mexican sweet bread that's traditionally made for the holiday. The proper day for the celebration is technically tomorrow and the next day, but I thought nobody would mind if we jumped the gun a little."
"That sounds lovely," Harry said. "I appreciate all of the thought you've put into this."
She blushed. "You can thank me if I don't screw anything else up."
"Don't worry," Harry said. "What's next on the schedule?"
"Scrambled eggs and…um…fresh bread for breakfast." Hermione looked sadly at the baking sheet.
"Then I'll run over to the supermarket and get us some bread," Harry said. "You clean up the rest of this and maybe work on that template thingy you said you got distracted by."
"You don't mind?" Hermione asked.
"Of course not," Harry said.
While Marks & Spencer's bread wasn't homemade, Harry thought their rolls were the next best thing and they quite enjoyed breakfast that morning, regardless. Afterward, they cleaned up and collected some last-minute groceries for the evening. Sirius and Remus (whom Harry generally avoided on Halloweeens because they tended to bring each other down) came by a little after noon with a bag of pictures and a couple of bottles of Don Julio reposado tequila, at which point Hermione kicked things off in earnest.
She assigned them to make a small altar in memory of the departed in the sitting room and handed them the picture of her grandparents (the one that had once been hit with a Tracking Charm) to add to it. Meanwhile, she and Harry took over the lengthy task of rolling and boiling tamales downstairs in the kitchen. Neither of them had ever done such a thing before, but Hermione had memorised detailed instructions that seemed to work. A few hours later, they had a lovely dinner of fresh chicken tamales with salsa verde and sour cream accompanied by margaritas Sirius mixed for them.
After dinner, they moved up to the sitting room with a few shot glasses and the remainder of the tequila. Hermione walked them through placing fresh marigolds on the altar, a pair of shot glasses of tequila, and the pictures and items their departed friends and family members might have treasured. Sirius even had an old shirt of James's that he'd never had a chance to return (a Rolling Stones shirt Lily had bought for him). Once the altar was set up, Hermione raised a shot glass into which she'd poured barely a centilitre of tequila.
"I only started reading about this two days ago," she said, "so I don't really know how this works."
"She's lying," Sirius whispered to Remus. He'd already had three margaritas and was nowhere as quiet as he thought he was being. "She probably knows more about this than at least ninety-eight percent of the Wizarding public."
"You don't even know what 'this' is," Remus (2 margaritas) whispered back.
"Does it matter?" Sirius asked.
Harry (2.5 margaritas) snorted. "No. Now hush and let her talk."
Hermione (0.5 margaritas) blushed and continued. "Anyway, we're going to do this in our own way. We're each going to tell stories about the people we've lost and then do a shot."
Sirius eyed her glass sceptically. "You call that a shot?"
"No, but I'm pacing myself," she said. "I don't want to be unconscious in half an hour. Shall I start?"
They all nodded, so she began, "My father's parents didn't approve of how hard my parents were making me study once I went to primary school, so for my seventh birthday, they got me the first few books of the Chronicles of Narnia. My parents didn't want me reading woolly books about magic and talking animals. Well, the joke's on them: now my actual studying comprises books about magic and I'm telling this story to two people who arguably qualify as part-time talking animals." She drank the tequila and shivered at the feeling of the alcohol. "That's to you, Nana and Papa."
The rest of them applauded politely. Sirius poured himself a generous shot and stood up next. "This one goes out to Harry's grandparents, Charlus and Dorea. One rainy night in 1976, my mother gave my one last Cruciatus Curse to remember her by–"
Hermione, who was sipping a glass of water, spat it out entirely.
"That was our reaction when he told us, too," Remus said.
"And threw me out," Sirius continued. "When I showed up at Potter Manor at nearly midnight, Dorea just sat on the couch and held me while Charlus brewed up some tea and gave me a pain potion. The whole time, James was setting up a guest room for me. The next morning, they acted like I'd been living there forever, and that was my home until I graduated Hogwarts." He threw back the tequila. "That's for the best parents I never had."
They all took turns telling those stories until they'd had so much tequila they could no longer stand up to talk anymore. Hermione and Sirius were the last two still conscious by then; Remus was curled up in one armchair, snoring lightly, and Harry was stretched out across the chesterfield and sleeping soundly. Hermione was sitting below Harry on the floor and trying to decide if she could make it up the stairs to her bedroom when Sirius, who was sitting in an armchair next to Remus, broke the silence.
"Hey," Sirius said. "You still awake, little witch?"
"'Little'?" Hermione asked. "I take umb…umbr…something at that. I'll tell you tomorrow when I remember what I take, but you won't like it."
He chuckled. "Harry's still 'pup' to me. Anyway, I wanted to thank you for today. This may be the only decent Halloween any of us have had since 1980."
"It was my pleasure," Hermione said. "I feel so bad for all you've lost and I know I can't replace it, but I wanted to help you all somehow anyway."
"You did." Sirius yawned. "I think Remus has the right idea. Call it a night?"
She nodded. "Have a good night. I'll be down here if you need me."
"Is that what you want?" Sirius asked.
"I don't know what he wants," Hermione said. "I…I don't want to presume."
Sirius chuckled again. "Trust me, you can presume. Besides, do you think he'd want to wake up and find out you were on the floor while he was on the chesterfield?"
Hermione bit her lower lip and thought about it. "Are you sure?"
"Do you really need me to answer that question?" Sirius asked.
She shook her head. "Goodnight, Sirius."
"Goodnight, little witch." He smiled as she grumbled at him, but she was already in the process of climbing onto the chesterfield and didn't want to awaken Harry.
Harry mumbled something as she lay down next to him and wrapped an arm around her. Whatever that man was feeling right now, it was definitely not annoyance with her presence. Her concerns somewhat assuaged, she snuggled into his embrace and let the night claim them all. She still needed to figure out what to take regarding Sirius, but she could sort that in the morning, when the room stopped spinning and Harry stopped being much too cosy to focus on anything but his tequila-touched scent and rhythmic breathing.
Harry awoke with the sun well into the sky the next morning and a mouth that tasted like some kneazles had used it as a litterbox. He attempted to get up to use the toilet and beg Dobby for some hangover potion, but his shirt refused to get up with him and pulled him back onto the chesterfield.
A short inspection revealed why this was the case: Hermione had burrowed thoroughly into his chest overnight and was now clutching his shirt in both hands like a life preserver. It was adorable, but he really had to go to the toilet.
He gently pried Hermione's hands off of his shirt. She mumbled some complaints, but didn't seem to thoroughly awaken until he pushed himself over her prone form and off the chesterfield.
"Ugh…Harry?" she whispered.
"Yes?" he whispered back. Even the quiet sounds of her voice threatened to wake the herd of cranky elephants currently camping in his cranium, so he didn't dare speak at his normal volume.
"Hangover potions. On the floor behind the altar. Please?" She couldn't quite string sentences together yet, but she was getting there.
"Merlin, you're brilliant," he said. He made his way over to the makeshift altar and fished four hangover potions out from underneath it. He took one immediately, shivered as it took effect, and brought the next to Hermione. While she drank it, he made his way over to his uncles, gently awoke each of them, and gave them their potion. In a few minutes, they were all mostly functional again.
"Hermione, my dear," Remus said, rubbing his temples, "you are a genius. Not only did you plan a truly wonderful celebration of life for us, you even planned for the consequences thereof."
"You know, that's why Lily was never a true Marauder," Sirius said. "Sure, she could plan out a prank every bit as good as anything we came up with, but she always thought about the consequences."
"And that's a bad thing?" Hermione asked.
"Definitely," Sirius said. "Consequences are for future you to deal with, and future you is clearly an arsehole who deserves it because they pranked someone."
Remus and Harry just shook their heads.
"I don't even know why I asked," Hermione said. "And I'm still annoyed at you, you know. I don't remember why I'm annoyed at you, but I've no doubt it'll come to me eventually."
"I'm sure I had a good reason for whatever I did," Sirius said.
"No, you're not," Remus said.
"I'm definitely not," Sirius agreed.
Harry sighed. "I'm going to end this conversation before it gives me a whole new headache," he said. "Would anyone like a fry-up for breakfast?"
Harry received three instantaneous "yes's" in response, so he headed downstairs to start cooking. Hermione put away the altar components before coming down to assist, and they had breakfast done in no time.
Even with the hangover potions, a proper fry-up still tasted extra delicious that morning. Everyone devoured their food, and it wasn't till they were finished that Remus finally spoke up. "Hermione, we've been meaning to tell you that we've made no progress on who might have attacked you. The person is playing things damn close to their vest and we haven't even heard any whispers about who might be responsible."
"Ugh." Hermione leaned forward and put her head in her hands. "Now what? If we don't find this person, then revealing me could be a death sentence for others like me."
"We do have a backup plan," Remus said. "Sirius and I will instruct you on the art of Occlumency. It's normally used to help you develop shields against mental intrusion, but the simple process of building those shields forces you to organise your thoughts. As we do this, we might be able to help you find whatever memory fragments you still have of the incident. A truly skilled Obliviator would leave no fragments, but the only person in your lifetime who was that good at it was Headmaster Dumbledore and he would never have done this."
"That sounds promising," Hermione said, "but can we go back to the part about mental intrusions being possible?"
"Legilimency, or the ability to invade others' minds and root around in their memories, is a rare skill, but it does exist. Its use is technically illegal, but a good legilimens is impossible for most people to detect."
"That's awful!" Hermione said. "Magic can be used to break into your mind, too?"
Sirius shrugged. "It's an ever present danger, but the vast majority of witches and wizards will never encounter a hostile legilimens, so they don't worry about it."
"The vast majority?" Hermione snorted. "What about me?"
"I…um…was going to teach you Occlumency as soon as you finished your O.W.L.s," Harry said. "I just sort of assume that insane things will happen to anyone around me and plan from there."
"Good." Hermione nodded approvingly. "I think Sirius is just numb to the dangers of the wizarding world by now."
"In my defence," Sirius said. "I think we've already established my skewed sense of danger."
Hermione sighed.
