It was overwhelming for Hermione, having so much attention on her. For his 18th birthday earlier that summer, Harry had taken the fawning adulation of the group in stride, and though he was embarrassed by it there was also a sense of his being used to it by now, especially in the wake of Voldemort's defeat. Hermione, however, was usually much more comfortable as part of a stable of supporters for Harry; operating on the outer edges but not the main focus. It was easier that way.
Tonight was not that. There was a big fuss over her "golden birthday" - turning 19 on the 19th - as there were some magical superstitions about it being the age that marks the fullness of your powers. Though this wasn't the actual day, it was the best the group could do to celebrate it all together, and she felt like she didn't warrant this kind of recognition. It was just a birthday. The real miracle of it was that she'd survived to this point, same as with Harry.
But this summer she'd also become fed up with the perceptions of many people around her, and somewhat even those she had of herself. So many referred to her as a "genius" without recognizing that, while intelligent, what really set her apart was not inherent brilliance but rather the willingness to become brilliant. The willingness to work at it. And in that willingness, she had discovered that she wanted to work toward something more for herself aside from it, too. The NEWTs were of course of utmost importance, as were all her other upcoming classes and attempting to figure out the next step in her future...but maybe even comparatively, for once, she placed importance on finding some kind of happiness; some kind of healing. So much of the last couple years had been about survival. Now it was time to live...and what did that even mean?
She'd started with some material things that she hadn't gotten to enjoy over the past year of living on the run. Started to wear clothes she liked rather than whatever was accessible and clean; started to style her hair with long-lasting potions to feel a little more confident in herself. She'd developed into a young woman now, and maybe it was time to feel a little more like one, rather than just another cog in the wheel of rebellion. She liked feeling feminine; it was something she had barely thought about in a long, long time. It wasn't even about looks, either. It was more about having the time and ability and, hell, even the chance to be self-centered enough to do it. It was the nonchalance of it all, and how it wasn't some life or death decision. It was just a small, simple thing she could do for herself to feel nice, and it didn't have to be anything more.
But she wasn't used to this. The staring eyes; Ron studying her intently from across the dinner table as they all chatted over her birthday feast. What she saw in his gaze wasn't hunger, precisely, but expectation. And she was tired of expectation.
It's time to live, she kept repeating to herself. She'd already done so much, and so little of it had been with herself in mind. Now, she had no desire to live a life that was pre-ordained. The idea of being with Ron felt pre-ordained. She loved him, very much, but she just wanted...more. What that "more" was, she didn't know.
After the meal, some of the group wanted her to open their gifts. Molly and Arthur had given her a beautiful set of bespoke parchments and quills for her letter-writing; Hermione was stunned and moved to see that they had somehow noticed what colors and weights she preferred for both.
"Just remember to send a note once in awhile to let us know how you are," Molly had whispered as Hermione had wrapped her arms around the shorter woman in gratitude.
"Of course I will...of course," Hermione responded, immensely touched. The idea that she could forget about them and their kindness during the busy year was one that hadn't even crossed her mind.
Harry and Ron had gone in together on a magnificent magical tent for Hermione, as a bit of a tribute to their time on the road together. It expanded on the lawn and the boys led her, open-mouthed, through a short tour of the premises. As Harry ushered her inside, he began, "Figured maybe we could have a camping trip together someday again, just, y'know-"
"-Not with the constant threat of death 'round every corner," continued Ron. The trio laughed. The interior was expansive, with several rooms and an open, cozy hearth with several plush couches in front of a crackling fireplace.
"How did you even afford-" started Hermione.
Harry held up a hand. "First off, that's not really something we considered for this." Hermione glanced at Ron, nervous that he would flush with embarrassment at the idea of costs and spending, but he continued smiling steadily. "And anyway, you'd be surprised. But it was really that...I dunno, Hermione, you deserve something nice like this. Maybe you can use it to have some time by yourself when things get crazy this year, or maybe sometimes we can all get together and just..." Harry's voice caught in his throat, and Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise at his emotion. He coughed. "I don't want us to ever forget how important we are to each other. Or ever drift apart. Even with how we'll be, well, physically apart this year. I just want us to always have a place we can..."
"That we can be together," she finished, understanding. His earnestness made her heart ache. The boys hadn't always communicated the importance of her friendship - they were boys, after all. Sometimes she had wondered if they really needed her, or valued her. But this...this was more than she could have ever asked. She flung her arms around the pair as tears streamed down her face, and though they laughed and moaned at her reaction, she felt them clutch her fiercely back.
Hermione returned to the party from the tent, arm and arm and watery-eyed with the two gift-givers. She had mussed her makeup crying over their kind gesture, but it didn't matter much to her; she would never be able to express how much it all meant. She slipped the compact tent case into her beaded handbag and felt it THUMP heavily on the bottom of the endless chasm inside.
Ginny and Luna delivered her a lovely potion kit full of beauty products but also some self-care pick-me-ups, like stress relievers and relaxation tonics and even a bottle full of wispy grey smoke labelled Hallucinaerum that Luna intimated "Is for if you really want to expand your mind," whatever that meant.
Hermione didn't want to make too much of a show of opening every single thing, so she finished up with Fred and George's gift - at their insistence. She was immediately suspicious of the innocuous-looking gold box, as "innocuous" wasn't really Fred and George's thing. But when it opened, a golden light skyrocketed out of the box - narrowly missing Hermione's nose - and exploded into the night sky, illuminating the evening with the words "Happy Birthday!" in shimmering golden script. The image shuddered in Hermione's mind, and for a moment all she saw was the sickly green Dark Mark hanging in the air, the dreaded beacon of death and destruction. She blinked once, twice, and the image slowly evaporated, returning to the reality of the celebratory statement. Hermione breathed hard, frightened and relieved.
As the sparks rained down from this display onto them, shining golden light glowed on all of the guests' hair, clothing, and skin, and Hermione began to feel a warm, buzzy feeling wherever it touched. It was a feeling of comfort, completeness, and contentment, and her heartbeat finally relaxed as the previous anxiety ebbed away.
"We use just a touch of Felix Felicis in the recipe, you see," explained George. "Along with a couple other things. Not enough to really alter anything, but enough to make you feel...how would you say it, Fred?"
"Bitchin'" the twin responded with a rakish grin. The group laughed - even Molly, shaking her head.
Hermione grinned. "You two are going to make a killing at the shop this year, aren't you?"
The pair laughed and nodded. "Think everyone's ready for a good time, don't you?" George responded.
The twins stood, and Fred extended a friendly hand to Hermione as the music of The Weird Sisters began to play from some unseen source. "Care for a dance, Miss Granger?" She sighed and laughed and took the boy's hand, and most of the group made their way to dance to the music as their skin tingled with good feeling.
Later that night the dancing had gotten even more frenzied, and Hermione needed a break from the madness. It was all a lot, and she was worried Ron would try and corner her for a confession of feelings or maybe even a kiss. She just didn't have it in her to turn him down tonight, especially after the truly kind gesture he and Harry had extended to her with their gift. She snuck away to the Weasleys' shed and quietly closed herself inside, relishing the darkness and the quiet. The light of another half-moon slatted in through the small dimpled-glass windows and provided a calm glow for her to catch her breath in peace. She'd only been in there a few minutes when she heard voices coming from behind the shed.
"Fancy meeting you here," said a young female voice.
"At the party we were both invited to?" Hermione recognized this voice instantly - it was Lupin. His words had a slight smile in them, and she could tell that he hadn't meant this meanly.
"Ha, ha, Remus." There was a short pause, and Hermione leaned closer to the back wall to try and hear what was happening. "It's been awhile."
"It has..."
"I've been thinking about you. About us." Hermione's eyebrows raised. I should not be hearing this, she thought. However, that hadn't exactly ever stopped her before.
"Oh?"
"Yes. I've missed you..." Hermione chanced a peek out of the small back window. She could spot Remus, his back to her, and over his shoulder the top of a shock of violet hair. Tonks.
"I don't think now-" Lupin faltered.
"Then when, eh?" she replied, and she saw Lupin pushed back against the shed, his shoulder brushing the corner of the window. Hermione jerked away, hiding in the darkness against the wall. She sensed that Tonks had kissed Lupin, and her mind was going a mile a minute now. Are they together? Romantically?
A moment or two passed, then she heard a gentle shifting noise. "I'm going to be going back to Hogwarts, Tonks. To teach." This apparently startled Tonks just as much as it did Hermione.
"Whaaat? Really?"
"Yes. Minerva asked me."
"Well. Alright. I could still see you, you know."
Lupin sighed. "You're right. Why don't you visit sometime this year, and we can talk this over then, alright? I just don't think a party is appropriate..."
Hermione heard Tonks huff and begin to walk away. "Fine, Remus, fine. But we will talk about this." Footsteps crunched over the ground around the side of the shed and back toward the party. Hermione heard Lupin quietly groan, wait a few moments, and begin to walk the same way. She finally breathed out, sitting on a stool perched next to the family brooms, and was beginning to relax again when the door to the shed was pulled open.
Lupin backed inside of the shack and clicked the door closed, letting out a relieved sigh. Before she could announce herself, the older man turned to make his way further inside and shocked himself with the sight of Hermione sitting on the stool, illuminated by strands of moonlight. "Ah-!" he yelled, stumbling back into the closed door. Hermione shot up, embarrassed.
"I'm sorry! I was going to say something, but then-"
"I beat you to it, did I?" he responded, a hand clutching over his beating heart.
She nodded. "Sorry."
He breathed hard, then laughed. "No worries. Seems like we had the same idea. Taking a break?"
"Just a little one," she responded.
Suddenly, Lupin looked anxious. "Hey, you didn't happen to hear..." he trailed off.
"What?"
"I was just..." It seemed he didn't know how to ask.
Saving him from himself, she shook her head. "All I've been hearing is the music. Bit loud, isn't it? Hope they cast a Muffliato 'round this place."
Lupin exhaled, relieved. "Right, yes." A few moments passed, and Lupin awkwardly glanced around the shed. "No one else really comes in here."
"That was sort of the idea," Hermione said, smiling.
He laughed. "Little overwhelming, is it?"
"Just not used to all...this. But it's really lovely. Just a lot." Her mind flashed again to imagining the Dark Mark looming over the party where the "Happy Birthday" fireworks had exploded. She swallowed.
Lupin tilted his head at her, and Hermione wondered if he was a Legilimens or not, because he almost seemed to understand what she was thinking. "Hmm," was all he said to that. After a moment, he slipped a hand into his pocket, and pulled out a small black box with a silver ribbon wrapped around it. He looked down at it for a few seconds, turning it over in his fingers, then extended it to the girl in front of him. "This is for you. I hadn't put it in the pile yet," he explained. "Happy birthday, Hermione."
She looked up at him, seeing the scars on his face in the dim glow of the moonlight and his captivating green eyes shining through the darkness. There was so much honesty in those eyes; in fact it was hard to even meet them with hers because of it. Those eyes told her that he was nervous to give this gift, and that he might be devastated if she didn't like it.
Hermione took the box from him, brushing her fingertips lightly over his as she palmed the small item. She pulled away the ribbon, dropped it onto the stool, and ran her thumb over the grain of the box's lid, clicking it open. She didn't know what to expect, but certainly hadn't expected what was inside.
It was a small, delicate version of a Time-Turner. It was clear that this wasn't an actual Time-Turner, as this one was much smaller, and there was also the little fact that they had all been destroyed. This one hung on a fragile gold chain, similar to the one she'd used in Third Year. She pulled the necklace out of the box and a small breath escaped her lips as it hung from her fingers. It was absolutely beautiful.
"It's not real," Lupin quickly began, explaining. "I just thought you'd...It reminded me of you." Fragments of moonlight fractured through the tiny hourglass, sparkling in the darkness of the shed. "I...I know it's very hard to imagine what the future will be now, and to know how little control over it we all have. But time is what you make if it, Hermione. And I know you...you'll make it extraordinary."
She stared at the necklace for a long minute, watching it spin in the air between them. "Remus," she breathed, calling the man by his first name for the first time she could remember. "I can't..."
"Oh, right," he said, breaking in to her thought. "Yes, of course." He stepped back and looked as if he might retreat out the door, but Hermione stopped him with a hand on his arm.
"No, I don't think you understand. I can't...express how lovely this is. Really. It's...astoundingly thoughtful. And a good reminder, too." She unhooked the clasp of the necklace and held it out to him. "Could you?"
He looked confused for a moment, then nodded, understanding. He took the necklace from her as she pulled aside her long hair and turned her back to him, exposing the long, pale nape of her neck. She could almost hear him swallow dryly, then bring the chain to the front of her chest, pull it under her hair, and fidget with the clasp to close it. He had gotten so close in this moment, and she could feel his warm breath prickle the skin stretched over the top of her spine into goosebumps. Lupin smelled like a touch of cologne but also...parchment, ink, dusty book covers and just the slightest tang of cigarette smoke mixed with something more primal and feral than she could describe. She shivered as she breathed him in and felt his fingers lightly tap the clasp against her neck, checking its security.
"It's...ah...I think it's all...set." They didn't move for several long moments, though. She wondered what was going through his mind, and if it was as frantic and dazed as her own thoughts. Hermione turned to look over her exposed shoulder at him and caught those stripped, naked eyes with her own; brown ringed with smudged mascara meeting green framed by the crinkles of time over the sea of uncertainty that was the few inches between them. Neither of them breathed, just spun around in the moment as the hourglass pendant did against her breastbone.
Suddenly, Lupin inhaled sharply, and pulled his hand away. "I...hope you like it. Happy...happy birthday, Hermione." He turned, opened the door, and walked out of the shed, closing the door behind him.
After a few moments Hermione sank back onto the stool, pulling the discarded silver ribbon into her lap. She twined it through her fingers and thought about what had transpired, and the fact that Lupin would be returning to Hogwarts with her the next day.
Uh oh.
A/N: Hi all! I hope you enjoyed this chapter...it certainly sets up a lot to come ;) Song referenced in chapter title is "Cherry Wine" by Hozier. Any feedback is much appreciated, as are the comments and kudos received so far! Thanks for reading.