The boys sat huddled together in their usual spot in the Gryffindor common room, waiting for the sun to go down on January 27th—the night of the full moon. Hermione could feel the tension in the air, and she knew why. Remus was in the Shrieking Shack already, enduring his transformation alone, a stark reminder of why they were doing this in the first place. It made everything feel heavier, more real.

James was the first to pull out his mandrake leaf, examining it with a mixture of determination and apprehension. "Alright," he said, his voice a little strained. "Time to do this... properly this time. No more slip-ups."

Sirius held his own leaf between two fingers, flipping it absentmindedly as he glanced at Hermione. "Alright, Kitten, let's hear your brilliant sticking charm idea again," he said, trying to inject some humour into the moment, but there was an edge to his tone. They had already failed once, and they couldn't afford to waste any more time.

Hermione rolled her eyes but smiled. "It's really simple," she said, pulling out her wand. "This charm will hold the leaf securely in place against the roof of your mouth. You'll still be able to talk and eat, but it won't budge unless you intentionally pull it down." She looked at Sirius pointedly. "So no excuses about accidentally swallowing it when you laugh this time."

"Hey," Sirius said with mock indignation, "I have excellent self-control, thank you very much."

"Sure you do," James muttered with a grin, earning a light punch on the shoulder from Sirius.

Peter looked nervously at his own mandrake leaf, turning it over in his hands. "It won't mess with the spell, will it?" he asked, his voice hesitant. "The books didn't say anything about using a sticking charm."

Hermione shook her head firmly. "I double-checked everything. There's nothing in the books that indicates it would interfere with the process. If anything, it might help make sure the spell is successful, since you won't have to worry about losing the leaf."

Sirius smirked. "And what would we do without our resident know-it-all?" he teased, but there was genuine gratitude in his eyes.

"Probably still be starting from scratch," Hermione shot back, smirking as well. Then, her expression softened. "We're doing this for Remus, remember? Let's get it right this time."

The boys nodded, the mood suddenly shifting to something more serious. James set his jaw, then placed the mandrake leaf on his tongue. "Alright," he said, his voice muffled as he held the leaf against the roof of his mouth. "Do your magic, Kitten."

Hermione raised her wand, focusing intently. She muttered the incantation and flicked her wand in a precise motion. The air shimmered for a moment, and James's eyes widened slightly as the charm took hold. He moved his tongue experimentally, then gave her a thumbs up.

"It's not moving," he said, his words coming out clearly despite the leaf's presence. "I think it's working."

"Perfect," Hermione said with a relieved smile. "Alright, who's next?"

Peter stepped forward, his hands shaking a little as he placed the leaf in his mouth. "I hope this works," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"It will," Hermione assured him, repeating the charm. Peter's eyes went wide, and he gave a nervous nod. "See? All set."

Sirius was last, still flipping his leaf between his fingers. "Alright, alright," he said, more to himself than to anyone else. He slid the mandrake leaf into his mouth, pressing it to the roof with his tongue. "Go ahead," he said, his voice slightly muffled. "Still feels like cheating though."

Hermione cast the charm, and Sirius grinned as he felt the leaf stick firmly in place. "Not bad, Kitten," he said, his voice clear and bright despite the leaf.

"I told you," she said with a grin. "Now, you just have to keep it there for the next month. No mistakes."

Hermione walked quickly through the chilly, early-morning corridors, the grey light of dawn barely touching the castle's stone walls. She'd been up well before sunrise, performing the Animagus incantation as the first light touched the horizon. Afterward, she made her way straight to the Hospital Wing, a knot of anxiety tightening in her stomach. She wanted to see Remus before he fell asleep, to check on him and make sure he was alright.

As soon as she pushed open the heavy wooden doors of the Hospital Wing, the sound of coughing hit her. It was a harsh, rattling noise that seemed to shake the very air around her. Hermione's steps quickened, her eyes locking onto Remus, who lay in a bed near the back, his face pale and exhausted.

"Miss Prewett, you should not be here!" the nurse said, blocking her path. Her expression was one of steely concern, her hands on her hips as if she expected Hermione to turn around and leave immediately. "Remus is unwell, and he's contagious. You'll only catch what he has."

"I don't care," Hermione said, her voice steady but pleading. "I just want to see him. I can take a Pepper-Up Potion if I catch it, it's not a big deal."

Madam Pomfrey's eyes softened, but she shook her head. "Yes, you can take a potion," she admitted reluctantly. "But Remus is not as fortunate. He can't take the usual Pepper-Up because of the aconite content, and the other potions don't work nearly as well for such infections."

Hermione's heart sank, but she stood her ground. "I just need to see him," she said. "Please. I won't stay long, I promise."

"I suppose you can stay for a while," she said, her tone softening as she noticed the determination in Hermione's eyes.

Hermione's eyes filled with worry, and she stepped around the matron without hesitation, moving straight to Remus's side. He looked even worse up close—paler than usual, with dark circles under his eyes and a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead. His body shook with another harsh cough as she sat down beside him.

"Hey," she said softly, reaching out to take his hand in hers. "How are you feeling?"

Remus's eyes fluttered open at her touch, and he tried to give her a reassuring smile, but it turned into a wince. "Hermione?" he rasped, his voice hoarse. "You shouldn't be here. I don't want you catching this."

"Too bad," she said firmly, squeezing his hand. "I'm not leaving. Were you already feeling sick yesterday, you dummy? Why didn't you say anything?"

Remus gave a weak chuckle, which quickly turned into another bout of coughing. He squeezed her hand back, his eyes full of exhaustion but laced with a hint of humour. "Didn't want to miss even more classes," he rasped, his voice hoarse. "Didn't want to worry you over nothing."

Hermione's heart twisted painfully at his words, and she gently brushed a damp strand of hair from his forehead. "You absolute idiot," she said, her voice soft but firm. "You don't have to hide things from me. I'd rather know and help you than be left in the dark."

Remus looked at her, his eyes glassy and fever-bright, and gave a slight nod. "I know," he said, sounding genuinely apologetic. "I just... didn't want to be a bother."

"You're never a bother," Hermione said fiercely, her voice thick with emotion. "And you're not allowed to hide when you're feeling awful, alright? Especially not from me."

Remus's lips curved into a faint smile, and he closed his eyes, his grip on her hand tightening for a brief second. "Alright," he murmured. "I promise... next time, I'll tell you."

"Good," she said, relieved. "Because I'll be here, whether you like it or not."

"Sorry you have to see me like this," he said hoarsely, rubbing at his chest as if trying to ease the discomfort.

"Don't be ridiculous," she said softly, her voice as comforting as she could make it. "I don't care how sick you are—I'm your friend. And besides," she added with a wry smile, "this explains why you're such a germaphobe."

Remus's laugh turned into a painful cough, and he winced. "Yeah," he admitted weakly, closing his eyes. "I can't afford to get sick... not with everything else."

Madam Pomfrey reappeared at the end of the bed, her expression softening as she looked at them. "Alright, Miss Prewett, that's enough," she said gently. "Remus needs his rest, and you need to be careful."

Hermione nodded, swallowing back the lump in her throat. She hated leaving him when he was like this, but she knew she had to. "I'll come back later," she promised, standing up reluctantly. "If that's okay?"

Remus managed a small, grateful smile. "I'd like that," he whispered.

As she turned to leave, Madam Pomfrey gave her a small, approving nod. "You're a good friend, Miss Prewett," she said quietly. "But you need to take care of yourself too."

"I will," Hermione promised, casting one last look at Remus before stepping out of the Hospital Wing. She felt a pang of guilt in her chest as she left him behind, but she also felt more determined than ever. If he had to go through this, she wouldn't let him go through it alone. If she caught his cold, so be it—she could handle it.

But as she made her way back to Gryffindor Tower, she knew now, more than ever, why Remus was so cautious about illness. It wasn't just the risk of missing classes or feeling unwell—it was the vulnerability, the way sickness left him open and raw. And she had never felt more fiercely protective of him than she did at that moment.

As Hermione stepped into the Gryffindor common room, she was met with the sight of James, Sirius, and Peter sprawled out on the couches, the remnants of their last-minute essay writing scattered around them. They looked up as she entered, eager for news.

"How's Moony?" James asked immediately, concern etched across his face.

Hermione sank down into one of the armchairs across from them, rubbing her tired eyes. "He's... it's not good. He's really sick," she admitted, feeling the weight of her worry settle heavily in her chest. "He's coughing constantly, and Madam Pomfrey says it's a respiratory infection. He can't even take Pepper-Up because of the aconite."

The boys' expressions changed almost instantly from concern to horror. James looked around if anyone heard that and cast a privacy charm.

"Wait," Sirius said, sitting up straight and narrowing his eyes at her. "You went inside the Hospital Wing? Even after Pomfrey said he was contagious?"

Hermione frowned, confused by their sudden shift. "Yes, of course I did. I'm not going to leave him alone when he's that sick."

James groaned, running a hand through his messy hair. "Hermione, you shouldn't have gone! What if you catch it?"

"I don't care if I catch it," Hermione said firmly, her voice rising defensively. "I'll take a Pepper-Up Potion and be fine."

Peter looked pale, glancing nervously between the other two boys. "But... what if you give it to us?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly.

Hermione's frown deepened. "What are you talking about?"

"The mandrake leaf ," Sirius explained, pointing to his mouth. His voice was muffled slightly as he spoke around it. "If we get sick, we can't risk taking Pepper-Up. What if it messes with the Animagus transformation?"

"Oh, come on," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "You're being ridiculous. There's no reason to think that—"

"Better safe than sorry," James cut in, looking genuinely worried. "We can't take any chances. We've already had to restart once this year."

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, feeling a flare of irritation. "So, what? You're just going to avoid me until Remus is better? You can't be serious!"

Sirius gave her a sheepish look, shrugging apologetically. "Sorry, Kitten, but... yeah, that's exactly what we're saying."

Peter nodded fervently, backing up on the couch as if even sitting close to her was a risk. "I don't want to get sick," he said earnestly. "I don't want to have to start over again."

Hermione stared at them in disbelief, feeling a wave of frustration and hurt rise up in her chest. "I can't believe you're all acting like this," she said incredulously. "Remus is up there feeling miserable, and all you can think about is your stupid Animagus project?"

"It's not stupid," James said defensively, but there was a hint of guilt in his eyes. "It's for him, you know. We're doing this for Moony."

"Well, I don't think he'd want you all to be acting like cowards!" Hermione snapped, standing up abruptly. "You're supposed to be his friends!"

With that, she turned on her heel and stormed up the staircase to the girls' dormitory, leaving the boys staring after her in uncomfortable silence. She didn't care if they thought she was being reckless—she knew what it meant to be a friend, and she wasn't about to let Remus go through this alone, no matter the risk to herself.

With her book bag slung over her shoulder, Hermione made her way down to the Great Hall to eat before classes. She couldn't help but notice how the boys had kept their distance during breakfast—Sirius avoiding her gaze, Peter shuffling awkwardly on the opposite end of the table, and even James, who usually sat beside her, choosing a spot several seats away.

By the time she reached the first classroom, Lily had caught on. She sidled up to Hermione, her eyes narrowing with curiosity. "What's going on with you lot?" she asked, nodding in the direction of the boys, who had taken seats far from Hermione, casting uneasy glances her way.

"Apparently, I'm Typhoid Mary," Hermione said dryly, pulling out her parchment and quill. She knew Lily would get the reference, which was proven right when the redhead did a double take.

" You know who Typhoid Mary is?" Lily asked incredulously, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise. Clearly, it was unusual for a Prewett—any pureblood really—to have knowledge of Muggle history. Hermione forced herself not to react to Lily's surprise and instead just gave a nonchalant nod.

Lily's brow furrowed as she put the pieces together. "I take it Remus is sick again?"

"Yeah," Hermione confirmed, flipping open her textbook. "Chest infection."

Lily studied her closely, a calculating look in her eyes. "And you went to the Hospital Wing to see him?"

"Yes," Hermione said, feeling her frustration flare up again.

"And Madam Pomfrey let you in?" Lily asked, her tone doubtful.

"Yes," Hermione repeated, though she could sense the scepticism behind the question.

"Then he's not contagious?" Lily pressed.

"Oh, he is ," Hermione admitted with a sigh. "But there's this wonderful potion called Pepper-Up."

"Then why are they acting like you're carrying the plague?" Lily's expression was a mix of concern and curiosity, her eyes flicking to the boys at the back of the room.

Hermione took a deep breath, feeling the frustration bubble up again. "It's complicated, but in a nutshell, they're worried that getting sick from me will mess up a prank they're working on."

Lily's mouth dropped open. "They're avoiding you because of a prank ?"

"Yeah," Hermione said, feeling her anger simmering.

Lily rolled her eyes, clearly exasperated. "Should I be worried about what they're planning?"

"Not in the least," Hermione assured her with a wry smile, though it was strained. "Sorry, I'm just... frustrated. I'd rather be in the Hospital Wing with Remus than sitting here in class."

Lily's expression softened, and she reached out to place the back of her hand against Hermione's forehead, teasingly checking for a fever. "Did you just say you'd rather be out of class?" she asked with mock seriousness. "You must be ill."

Hermione swatted her hand away with a laugh, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Ha, ha. Very funny."

"Seriously, though," Lily said, lowering her hand. "You should just go see him if that's where you want to be. You've always been there for him when he's needed it."

Hermione hesitated for a moment, glancing over at the boys, who were still keeping their distance and talking in low voices. She knew they'd only get more paranoid if she insisted on spending more time with Remus, but at the same time, she couldn't stand the thought of him being alone and miserable when she could do something to help.

"I'll check on him later," she said finally, giving Lily a reassuring smile. "For now, I'll endure Potions like the dutiful student I am."

"Good luck with that," Lily said with a grin, clearly sensing Hermione's inner conflict. "And if those morons give you any more trouble, you let me know."

"Deal," Hermione said, feeling a little lighter. At least she had one ally who wasn't caught up in this absurdity. She forced herself to focus on her lessons, but all she could think about was Remus, alone in the Hospital Wing, and how she couldn't wait for classes to be over so she could be by his side again.

By the time January 30th rolled around, Remus had finally been released from the Hospital Wing. The alternative potions Madam Pomfrey had prescribed did their job; he was no longer contagious, though he still had a persistent, dry cough that lingered.

On the morning of Lily's birthday, they all gathered for breakfast in the Great Hall. Remus, still looking a bit pale, was nursing a mug of tea while Hermione kept a watchful eye on him. He gave her a small, appreciative smile whenever she refilled his tea without being asked, but his attention—along with everyone else's—quickly turned to James.

James had been buzzing with barely contained excitement for days, and it was clear he had something big planned for Lily's birthday. He'd gone overboard before, but this time it felt different—more intense, more desperate to make an impression.

James, predictably, had gone all out. At breakfast in the Great Hall, he stood up in front of the entire house with a flourish, clearly unable to help himself. He performed a series of dramatic wand movements, sending a wave of enchanted fireworks shooting up from his table. They burst into intricate patterns, forming a giant, glittering "Happy Birthday, Lily" in mid-air. Below the sparkling letters, a banner appeared that read: "For the Brightest Witch and the Prettiest Flower of Hogwarts."

Lily's face turned a deep shade of crimson, and the whole Gryffindor table burst into applause and laughter. Some of the younger students joined in, cheering for the spectacle. Lily's eyes, however, were practically shooting daggers at James, who looked utterly pleased with himself.

Hermione, who was watching the scene with Sirius from the other end of the table, shook her head. "You know, maybe if he did this sort of thing in the relative privacy of the common room, she wouldn't mind as much."

Sirius raised an eyebrow at her, looking genuinely confused. "What's the problem with doing it in front of everyone? It's more fun this way."

"Of course you'd think that," Hermione shot back with a teasing smile. "You're an exhibitionist. But not everyone loves the attention like you do."

Sirius's face broke into a mischievous grin. "Well, what's the point of making a grand gesture if no one's there to witness it? You can't tell me you wouldn't enjoy it if someone went to all that effort for you."

"I'd die of embarrassment," Hermione said flatly, rolling her eyes. "And besides, I'm not Lily. James has been trying to impress her like this for years, and it hasn't worked yet."

Sirius chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Oh, Kitten, you're hopeless. Big, public gestures are classic!"

"Classic, sure," Hermione agreed, "but also predictable. Maybe Lily wants something that's just for her, not for the whole school to gawk at."

"Sounds boring," Sirius teased, but Hermione could tell he was considering her words.

Back at the centre of the chaos, Lily was handling James's latest spectacle with surprising restraint, merely rolling her eyes and muttering a curt, "Thanks, Potter," before turning back to her breakfast. Hermione noticed the way James's face fell for a moment before he covered it with another wide grin, playing it off as if Lily's reaction hadn't stung.

"Well," Hermione said with a sigh, "at least he's consistent."

Sirius chuckled. "Yeah, can't say he doesn't try. I'd have given up long ago if I were him, though. Evans isn't exactly the easiest target."

As James sat back down, looking deflated but determined not to show it, Hermione couldn't help but feel a pang of second-hand embarrassment, yet again. She knew he was trying his best, but every grand gesture seemed to make Lily retreat further. A quick glance at Remus showed he had the same resigned look on his face, clearly sympathetic to both parties.

"Maybe next year," Remus said quietly, giving Hermione a wry smile.

James, overhearing, ran a hand through his messy hair, his face flushed with equal parts hope and frustration. "She'll come around," he insisted, more to himself than anyone else.

"If you say so," Hermione replied gently, but her voice lacked conviction.

Lily, meanwhile, had settled at the far end of the table, surrounded by her friends, who were chattering excitedly about the birthday display. Hermione couldn't quite tell if the attention was making Lily happy or just more uncomfortable, but James was already planning his next move—she could see it in the determined set of his jaw.

As the breakfast settled into its usual routine, Hermione watched James with a mixture of affection and exasperation. It was impossible not to admire his enthusiasm, even if it was terribly misplaced. She just wished he would take the advice she'd been giving him for months— stop trying so hard .

Hogsmeade was cloaked in the soft, dreamy chill of mid-February, the snow crunching underfoot as students from every house spilled onto the streets, chattering excitedly about their plans. Valentine's Day was an event James Potter had anticipated with the fervour of a Quidditch match, and he had already taken it upon himself to dazzle Lily. From the very start of their trip, he seemed to have transformed Hogsmeade into his personal stage, complete with roses conjured mid-air, and a dramatic charm that played "Love in the Air" each time he neared her.

"Honestly, I think he's broken his own record for public embarrassment this year," Hermione muttered with a smirk as she and Remus strolled into Tomes & Scrolls. She could still hear the faint sound of the song floating down the street as James and Sirius traipsed after Lily, who was clearly mortified.

Remus chuckled, his cheeks flushed from the cold. "It's like he doesn't know when to quit." He reached out, holding the door open for Hermione as they stepped into the warm, cosy depths of the bookstore. "But if he did, it wouldn't be James, would it?"

Inside, Tomes & Scrolls was as inviting as ever, filled with the scent of parchment and the gentle murmur of pages being turned. Hermione felt herself relax instantly, the outside world melting away into the comforting embrace of bookshelves and dim, golden light. She brushed a bit of melting snow from her coat and smiled up at Remus, who was already eyeing the 'New Arrivals' section with quiet excitement.

"You know," Hermione began, peering at the stacks of books, "I didn't mind spending the whole day here when I was younger, but now it almost feels too... simple. Like I should be dragging you off to see something more exciting."

"Simple is good," Remus replied, his voice soft as he reached for a book on magical theory. "Sometimes it's nice to escape the… chaos. Besides," he added with a slight smile, "I'd choose books over pranks at Zonko's any day. Though, they'll probably be bringing back half the shop in their bags by the time we catch up."

Hermione chuckled, picking up a slim volume on advanced Charms. "I suppose we're the boring ones, then," she said with a playful sigh, though she felt quite the opposite. There was something calming and grounding about being here with Remus, the quiet companionship they shared as they thumbed through books, each of them content in the company of the other.

They continued exploring, slipping into a comfortable silence as they browsed. Hermione could feel the warmth of the fire crackling in the back of the shop, its golden glow casting a cosy light over the shelves. Remus soon found a book on werewolf myths and sat down to leaf through it. Hermione watched him, the familiar sight of his furrowed brow and intense concentration making her smile.

After a while, he looked up, catching her gaze. "What?" he asked, his eyes crinkling with curiosity.

"Nothing," she replied, a soft smile tugging at her lips. "Just that I think you've probably read every book on magical creatures in here."

Remus chuckled, glancing down at the book in his lap. "Well, it never hurts to keep up," he said lightly. But Hermione noticed the brief flicker of something—hesitation? Uncertainty?—in his expression.

She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "I just mean… you know so much about magical creatures. I think you're probably the most knowledgeable person I've ever met on the subject," she said earnestly, hoping he could see just how much she meant it.

Remus's face softened, his eyes brightening a little. "That's kind of you to say, Hermione." He glanced back down at the book, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his expression. "Sometimes I wish there was less to know about… certain creatures," he said, his tone more thoughtful.

She nodded, feeling the unspoken weight of his words settle between them. "You know, if there's ever anything you want to know," she said, her voice gentle, "I'll help you find it. Or just… be here. Whatever you need."

Remus looked at her for a long moment, the gratitude in his gaze mingling with something deeper, something unspoken. "Thank you, Hermione," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "That means a lot."

They sat in companionable silence after that, each engrossed in their own reading, the moments stretching into a soft, comfortable quiet. After a while, Remus reached over, nudging her arm gently.

"Look," he said, showing her an illustration of a particularly fearsome magical creature that looked half-lion, half-serpent. "Imagine trying to take that one on."

Hermione laughed, leaning in to get a better look. "I'd let you go first," she teased, grinning. "Seems right up your alley."

He rolled his eyes, but his smile was warm, his expression lighter than it had been in days. "Of course you would."

They spent hours in the shop, lost in books and lighthearted conversation, with only the occasional interruption from Madam Toadflax, the shop's elderly owner, who would shuffle by with a knowing smile as if she could sense their quiet camaraderie.

As afternoon turned to evening, the warmth of the bookshop lingered with them, and as they finally gathered their things to leave, Hermione felt a sense of peace—a reminder that sometimes, amidst all the magical chaos, a quiet moment with a friend was its own kind of magic.

The Polyjuice Potion was finally ready. The cauldron in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom bubbled gently, filling the dimly lit space with its familiar, acrid scent. The Marauders and Hermione crowded around, the boys practically vibrating with excitement as they watched the potion settle to the perfect shade of muddy green. Hermione had spent the last month painstakingly brewing it, hiding away in the unused bathroom with its ghostly occupant and ensuring that every detail was perfect.

"Alright," she said, taking a deep breath and pulling out a few flasks. She carefully ladled the potion into each one, handing them to the boys with a steady hand. "One dose each. And for the record, I don't want to hear any whining about the taste."

"Oh, come on, Kitten, don't chicken out now," Sirius teased, his grin wide and wicked. "You didn't do all this just to watch us have all the fun, did you?"

Hermione crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes at him. "I've had a... bad experience with Polyjuice before," she said, choosing her words carefully. "And I'm not keen to repeat it."

"A bad experience?" James's interest was immediately piqued. "What happened?"

Hermione hesitated, glancing at the potion and then back at the eager faces around her. "Let's just say I... accidentally used the wrong kind of hair, and it didn't go well."

"The wrong kind of hair?" Sirius's grin grew even wider. "Do tell, Kitten. What kind of hair did you use?"

Hermione scowled at him. "It was a cat's hair, alright?" she said, refusing to meet their eyes. "I spent weeks looking like... like something out of a nightmare."

Sirius burst out laughing, clutching his sides. "I knew it! I knew there was a reason I called you Kitten! This is just perfect!"

James and Peter joined in, their laughter echoing off the tiled walls of the bathroom. Hermione's face burned, and she huffed, crossing her arms defensively. "Yes, yes, get it out of your systems. But that's why I'm not drinking this stuff ever again, so don't even ask."

"Oh, come on, it can't be that bad," Peter said, still chuckling. "It's just one dose, and we're not going to use cat hair."

"No," Hermione said firmly. "I've learned my lesson."

Sirius finally managed to straighten up, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. "Oh, don't worry, Kitten. We're not going to make you grow whiskers again. But you can't just sit back and watch. This is Marauder territory—you have to be part of it!"

"No," Hermione said, crossing her arms stubbornly. "I helped you brew it, and that's enough. You're on your own for whatever insanity you've got planned."

"Alright, alright," James said, stepping in to calm things down. "She doesn't have to drink it if she doesn't want to. Besides, I think we've got enough chaos planned without turning anyone into a cat."

"Speaking of which," Peter added eagerly, "when are we actually going to do this?"

Sirius glanced at Remus, who was idly swirling his flask and looking thoughtful. "I say we do it as soon as possible—no sense in wasting time."

Hermione's eyes flickered with worry, but she quickly masked it, knowing that she had to steer this conversation in the right direction without raising suspicion. "I don't know, Sirius," she said casually, forcing a neutral tone. "Wouldn't it make more sense to wait a bit? Maybe until... I don't know... a couple of weeks from now?"

"A couple of weeks?" Sirius repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Why wait?"

"You know, to make sure everything's in place and all the conditions are just right," she said casually.

James glanced at her, clearly catching the hidden meaning in her words. "Oh, yeah," he said, nodding slowly. "We wouldn't want to rush this and mess it up. Timing is everything."

"Exactly," Hermione agreed, keeping her tone light. "And it's not like the opportunity won't come around again. Let's just... make sure everything lines up perfectly."

Sirius looked like he wanted to protest, but James cut him off with a quick nod. "No, she's right," he said firmly. "We'll give it some time. Make sure we're ready."

"Fine," Sirius said, though he looked a little disappointed. "We'll wait. But it better be worth it."

"It will be," Hermione assured him, smiling. "Trust me."

The boys huddled together, eagerly discussing their plans, their voices overlapping as they plotted out every detail of the prank they intended to pull. Hermione watched them, feeling a strange mix of amusement and anxiety twisting in her chest. She knew the risks they were taking—especially with the Animagus transformation on top of everything else. But she couldn't help feeling a sense of pride in their determination and in how far they'd come.

As the conversation grew louder, Hermione discreetly checked her watch. Two weeks would put them well past the next full moon, which meant Remus would have enough time to recover and wouldn't suspect anything unusual about the timing, and the boys would have the mandrake leaves out of their mouth as well.