That weekend was Quidditch tryouts, and Hermione still didn't quite understand why she had to be there. James and Sirius were already on the team, and their positions were secure. Yet, the Marauders had dragged her down to the pitch, insisting it was all part of the "Gryffindor spirit" to support the hopefuls. So, with some reluctance, she had agreed—bringing a book along, just in case.

As soon as they settled in the stands, Hermione cracked open her book, flipping to the page she had left off. Sirius, noticing, was immediately scandalised. "Kitten," he said with exaggerated exasperation, "this is Quidditch! You can't just read during tryouts."

Hermione didn't even look up. "I'll keep an eye on it," she said dryly, "between chapters."

Sirius huffed dramatically, throwing himself onto the bench beside her. "You're impossible."

Hermione couldn't help but wonder why, if he was on the team, he couldn't be bothered to even get on a broom if this was so important.

From her other side, Remus chuckled, pulling out his own book with a mischievous grin. "Looks like you're not the only one with the right idea, Hermione," he said, clearly enjoying Sirius's irritation. Hermione shot him a grateful smile, and they both settled in comfortably.

James, who had been straddling his broom nearby, caught sight of the scene and didn't know whether to laugh or roll his eyes. "You lot are hopeless," he muttered, but the corners of his mouth twitched in amusement.

His attention, however, was quickly diverted when he spotted Lily a few rows over in the stands, cheering enthusiastically for Marlene McKinnon, who was trying out for Chaser. James's eyes lit up, and he immediately leaned into showing off, performing loops and flashy dives as he hovered above the pitch, clearly trying to catch Lily's attention.

Hermione didn't miss the way Lily's eyes rolled as she spotted James's antics, though she continued to cheer Marlene on with genuine enthusiasm. "Honestly," Hermione muttered under her breath, "does he ever give it a rest?"

Remus chuckled beside her. "Not when it comes to impressing Evans," he said, a fond yet exasperated tone in his voice. "I think he sees every Quidditch tryout, practice or match as a chance to win her over."

"Well, he's not exactly doing a great job," Hermione said, noticing the way Lily resolutely ignored James's increasingly ridiculous stunts. She wondered, not for the first time, how on earth those two were meant to end up together.

Sirius, meanwhile, had given up on convincing Hermione to watch the tryouts and was now sprawled across the bench, arms folded, casting judgmental looks at every single player attempting to make the team. "Nope. Terrible form," he muttered about one flyer. "Hopeless aim," he commented on another. Every so often, he'd glance at Hermione's book and sigh loudly, which she pointedly ignored.

By the time Marlene landed after a spectacular manoeuvre, having clearly secured a spot on the team, James had performed enough unnecessary tricks that even Sirius started heckling him. "Alright, Potter, this is a Quidditch tryout, not a circus," he called, laughing when James shot him a look of mock outrage.

Hermione shook her head with a small smile, turning another page in her book. It was chaotic and ridiculous, but in its own way, it was starting to feel like home.

James and Sirius sat across from Hermione in the Gryffindor common room a few days later, both of them looking particularly smug despite the looming detentions. She folded her arms, a sceptical brow raised.

"So," Hermione said, her tone dripping with disapproval. "You just happened to run into Travers and Mulciber, and… accidentally hexed them?"

James shrugged, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Look, they had it coming. Maybe they didn't start it today, but they've been a menace for ages."

Sirius leaned back, completely unbothered. "They cornered you just last week, didn't they? And the way they treated those Hufflepuffs earlier this term? I'd say we were just helping karma along a bit."

Hermione sighed, rubbing her temples. "You know, you two are incorrigible. And now you're facing detention. Is that worth it?"

The boys exchanged a look, then James leaned forward. "You're right, Hermione. Absolutely worth it."

Sirius nodded in mock solemnity. "If a few hexes and an evening polishing trophies is what it takes to teach those gits a lesson, then so be it. I'm not apologising."

Hermione sighed again, unable to suppress a faint smile. "I don't suppose you'll be any more repentant tomorrow, will you?"

Sirius grinned, leaning closer. "Not a chance, Kitten. We're taking our lumps like true Gryffindors."

James chimed in, "Besides, we've got detention together. Filch doesn't stand a chance."

She tried to maintain her stern expression but failed, shaking her head in reluctant amusement. "Well, just… try not to get into any more trouble before the detention, alright?"

"Can't make any promises," Sirius said, still smirking.

On the morning of the full moon, it was clear that Remus wasn't well. His skin was paler than usual, with dark circles shadowing his eyes, and his movements were slow and careful, as if every step required effort. What stood out the most to Hermione was how hard he was trying to mask it, smiling and laughing along with everyone else, even as his shoulders slumped under the weight of exhaustion.

James and Sirius, however, were doing their best to act as if nothing was wrong, even though Hermione could see the tension in their faces. Sirius was more subdued, his usual playful remarks toned down, while James was unusually focused in class, rarely leaving Remus's side. It was a delicate dance—one that Hermione didn't quite know how to join. So, she decided to take her cues from them, playing along with the façade while silently worrying about her friend.

Remus managed to push through classes, his polite smile never slipping, but his eyes grew more distant as the day wore on. By the time dinner rolled around, he'd barely touched his food, excusing himself with a mumbled excuse about needing to catch up on homework. He left the Great Hall in a hurry, his steps a little too hurried and unsteady.

Hermione watched him go, her stomach twisting with unease, but she kept quiet, glancing at James and Sirius for a clue on how to react. They exchanged a look but said nothing, continuing their meal with forced casualness.

Later that night, after dinner, Hermione sat with the remaining Marauders in the common room, feeling the tension that seemed to have settled like a thick fog over their little group. She watched as James kept glancing towards the portrait hole, his foot tapping restlessly, while Sirius was unusually quiet, staring at the fire as if he could will time to pass faster. Peter, normally chatty and excitable when in this small circle, seemed unusually subdued, picking at his fingernails and avoiding Hermione's eyes.

Unable to take the silence any longer, Hermione decided to bring it up—gently, without revealing that she already knew more than she should. "Is Remus okay?" she asked, her voice soft but steady. "He looked... really tired today."

James froze for a second, his hand pausing mid-tap on the armrest. Sirius's gaze snapped away from the flames, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. Peter just looked away, clearly uncomfortable.

James was the first to recover, his expression slipping into a careful mask of indifference. "Yeah," he said, trying to sound casual. "Remus gets... sick sometimes. It's nothing to worry about."

Hermione nodded slowly, as if accepting the answer, but pressed a little further. "I just... I hope he's alright," she said, her concern genuine. "He seemed worse than usual today."

Sirius sighed, running a hand through his hair and leaning back in his chair. "He'll be fine, Kitten," he said, his voice softer than usual, almost reassuring. "He just needs some rest."

Peter, still avoiding her gaze, muttered, "Yeah, it's, uh, just how it is sometimes. He's used to it."

Hermione bit her lip, feeling a pang of guilt for bringing it up but unable to shake her worry. "Well, if there's anything I can do... you'll let me know, right?"

James's tense posture relaxed slightly at her offer, and he gave her a small, grateful smile. "Yeah, of course," he said, his tone more sincere this time. "Thanks, Hermione."

Sirius, still watching her closely, gave a lopsided grin. "We appreciate it, Kitten. But trust us, he'll be alright. He always is."

"Okay," Hermione said, nodding and deciding to let it go for now. "Just... take care of him."

"We always do," James said, his voice filled with a quiet determination. "Always."

As the conversation shifted to lighter topics, Hermione couldn't help but notice the way James and Sirius kept checking the clock, their minds clearly elsewhere. She kept up the façade of normalcy, laughing along with their jokes and pretending she didn't see the worry lurking behind their eyes.

It was all part of the dance—this strange, silent agreement they had, where they all pretended that everything was fine even when it clearly wasn't. But Hermione was determined to be there for them, for Remus, in whatever way she could—without letting on how much she truly knew.

The next day passed in a blur of routine—classes, notes, and forced laughter. But as soon as the final bell rang, the Marauders were out of their seats in a flash, throwing a quick and casual "See you later!" to Hermione before practically sprinting out of the classroom. They didn't say where they were going, but Hermione knew. She wasn't supposed to follow, that much was obvious, and the exclusion stung more than she wanted to admit. It was a reminder that, for all the fun and camaraderie, she wasn't truly one of them.

Trying to brush off the bitter feeling settling in her chest, Hermione decided to join Lily in the Library. The familiarity of the space, the quiet rustle of turning pages, usually soothed her. But today, even the smell of parchment and ink couldn't shake her feeling of unease. She flipped through a book half-heartedly, barely absorbing the words on the page.

Lily, ever perceptive, noticed the change in her friend's mood. She set her quill down, studying Hermione with a concerned expression. "Alright, what's wrong?" she asked gently, closing her Potions textbook.

"Nothing," Hermione said quickly, a little too quickly, keeping her eyes fixed on the pages in front of her.

Lily arched an eyebrow, not buying the excuse for a second. "Come on, Hermione. I've seen you zone out in class before, but today you were practically in another world. And now you're not even pretending to read."

Hermione sighed, knowing she couldn't hide from Lily's relentless empathy. "It's just... the boys," she admitted, feeling ridiculous for even bringing it up. "They ran off right after class, and I don't even know why it's bothering me, but... it is. I guess I just thought I was a part of their group, when I'm clearly not."

Lily's expression softened with understanding, and she reached across the table, placing a comforting hand over Hermione's. "You're not the first person to feel that way with them," she said. "They're... well, they're close, you know? And they have their secrets. But it doesn't mean they don't care about you."

"I know," Hermione said, feeling the familiar guilt creep in for even doubting them. "But it's like... they're hiding something. Something important. And they just assume I won't understand."

Lily nodded, her eyes reflecting her own experience with James's aloof behaviour. "I get it," she said quietly. "But whatever it is, I'm sure they have their reasons. You know how protective they are of Remus."

Hermione's heart clenched. Of course, it was about Remus. It always was. She was just surprised Lily knew as well. "Yeah," she said softly. "I just... wish they trusted me enough to let me in. Even a little."

"I'm sure they will," Lily assured her with a gentle smile. "You've only been here a few weeks, Hermione. Give them time. You already have more of an in with them than anyone else at Hogwarts."

Hermione nodded, forcing a smile back. "I hope so," she said, even though a part of her wondered if that would ever be true.

They spent the rest of the evening in the Library, diving into their studies with a renewed focus. But as they worked, Hermione's thoughts kept drifting to the Marauders, wondering how Remus was, and when they would finally tell her the truth that she already knew.

By the time Hermione made it back to the common room, the Marauders were already in their usual corner, talking and laughing like everything was normal. But as she drew closer, she saw it—a thin, red scar on Remus's cheek that hadn't been there yesterday. It had been healed, the wound no doubt treated by Madam Pomfrey, but she knew a fresh scar when she saw one. Her heart sank.

Without a second thought, Hermione crossed the room, ignoring the startled looks of James, Sirius, and Peter. She sank down beside Remus and, before anyone could react, wrapped her arms around him in a tight, comforting hug.

Remus stiffened for a second, clearly taken by surprise, but then he relaxed, leaning into her embrace. He didn't say a word, just rested his head against her shoulder, letting out a long, shaky breath.

The other Marauders stared, wide-eyed and caught off guard by the sudden gesture. Sirius opened his mouth to say something, then shut it again, his expression a mix of confusion and something softer—almost protective. James's eyes darted to the new scar on Remus's face, and he seemed to understand, his gaze turning sombre.

"It's okay," Remus whispered into her shoulder, his voice rough. "I'm okay."

"I know," Hermione said quietly, her heart aching for him. She pulled back slightly, just enough to look him in the eye. "But you don't have to pretend. Not with me."

Remus blinked, his eyes glistening with emotion he was clearly trying to hide. He gave her a small, grateful smile, and for the first time, Hermione felt like she truly was a part of the Marauders' inner circle—a part of their unspoken understanding, even if they hadn't told her everything.

James cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "Alright, alright," he said, his voice light but his expression serious. "If we're all done with the mushy stuff, how about a game of Exploding Snap?"

Sirius gave a bark of laughter, shaking off the tension. "Yeah, can't have Remus hogging all the attention," he teased, though his eyes were still lingering on the spot where Hermione's arms had wrapped around their friend.

Hermione released Remus, feeling a warmth settle in her chest that hadn't been there before. "Deal me in," she said, her smile genuine. For once, it didn't feel like she was on the outside looking in.

A couple of days later, the Marauders cornered Hermione when Remus was off in the Library. It was James who insisted she come with them, practically dragging her up the stairs to their dormitory. "This isn't something we can discuss in the common room," he'd said, his tone more serious than she'd ever heard before. There was a tension in the air that made her stomach clench, and she knew what was coming before they even shut the door.

Sirius cast several privacy charms as soon as the door was closed, and James checked the lock twice for good measure. Peter hovered nervously by the window, avoiding her gaze, and for once, Sirius looked utterly serious, his usual playful demeanour completely absent. They all turned to her, and she felt a strange mix of anticipation and dread.

"Hermione," James began, his voice tight with worry, "we need you to be upfront with us. How do you know?"

Hermione's throat went dry, but she kept her expression steady. She had anticipated this conversation, knowing that her observations hadn't gone unnoticed. "You mean about Remus being a werewolf?" she asked, her tone gentle but direct.

The boys exchanged tense looks, then nodded. There was a moment of silence, the weight of the unspoken secret hanging heavily in the air.

"We're doing something very wrong if someone can guess it within not even two months," James said, running a hand through his messy hair, his eyes serious and worried. "It's a liability. And we know we can trust you, but we can't say that about everyone else."

Hermione sighed, trying to collect her thoughts. "Well... I'm not sure about other people, but if you've ever written an essay on werewolves, the signs are there if you know what to look for," she said, her voice even. "Most people aren't paying attention to lunar calendars or patterns in absences. But Remus's sick days have matched up with the full moon twice since I've been here, and... the scars, the moodiness, the exhaustion leading up to it. It's all there if you're observant. And it didn't help that your reaction to my comment about Animagi and werewolves wasn't exactly subtle," she said, folding her arms. "You practically froze up. It was clear I'd hit a nerve."

James's face fell, and Sirius let out a groan. Hermione shot Sirius a glare for interrupting her. "I told you," Sirius said, glaring at James. "Why did you have to go on about Animagi in that review session? They are nowhere near third-year material!"

James looked sheepish, but nodded. "Yeah... that wasn't my finest moment."

"And let's not forget," Hermione continued, unable to hold back her exasperation, "that you nicknamed him 'Moony' and constantly refer to his 'furry little problem.' If that's not a dead giveaway, I don't know what is."

Sirius opened his mouth to argue, but then shut it, a frustrated expression crossing his face. "Alright, fine, maybe we haven't been as careful as we should be. But you have to understand... it's not easy. Keeping this secret, protecting him. We don't want people to find out, to treat him differently."

Hermione's expression softened, her annoyance fading. "I do understand," she said gently. "I know why you keep it quiet, and I don't blame you. Remus is... he's kind, and he's strong, and he deserves to be treated like anyone else. But you have to know that other people might not be so understanding if they figure it out."

James's eyes darkened, a fierce protectiveness flickering in them. "That's why we have to be more careful," he said firmly. "We've been sloppy, and that's on us. But you... you figured it out without even trying. We're worried about who else might do the same."

"I get that," Hermione said, meeting his gaze with quiet determination. "But you don't have to worry about me. I would never betray Remus's trust, or yours. I just... I wish you had trusted me enough to tell me instead of finding out like this."

Sirius shifted uncomfortably, looking torn. "We wanted to. Even Moony wanted to after James told us about your comment... but in the end, he chickened out and we had to respect his wishes. But he is happy that you know, even if he will never say it out loud."

Hermione's expression softened at Sirius's words, understanding the complexity of the situation more than ever. "I get it," she said quietly. "It's his secret, and it's his choice. I won't push him, I promise."

James nodded, relief flashing in his eyes. "Thank you," he said, his voice sincere. "We don't have many people we can trust with this. And Remus... he's been through a lot. The fact that you've accepted him without hesitation means more than you know."

Sirius gave a half-hearted smile, still looking slightly uncomfortable but more at ease than before. "He's always so careful about who he lets in," he said, his tone softer. "But you... you've made it clear you don't see him as a monster, and that's what matters. Even if he can't admit it, he's glad you're with us."

Hermione felt a rush of emotion at the sincerity in Sirius's words. She knew how much Remus valued loyalty, how much he feared being judged for something that was out of his control. "I don't see him as a monster," she said firmly. "I never will. He's one of the best people I've ever met."

James and Sirius both smiled, the tension between them easing. Peter, who had been silent this whole time, finally spoke up, his voice hesitant but genuine. "We really do trust you, Hermione. We wouldn't have brought you here if we didn't."

Hermione smiled, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. For all their secrets and mischief, for all their recklessness, she knew the Marauders had each other's backs—and now they had hers too.

"Alright," she said, a smile tugging at her lips. "No more secrets. I'm here for all of you, whatever you need."

Sirius's grin widened, a spark of mischief returning to his eyes. "Careful, Kitten," he said with a wink. "You might just regret saying that."

James laughed, clapping her on the shoulder. "Yeah about that... remember when you asked when I was planning on becoming an Animagus?"

Hermione's eyebrows shot up, surprise flickering across her face. "Yes...?" she said slowly, suddenly wary. She had a feeling she knew where this conversation was going, and her stomach did a nervous flip.

James's grin turned slightly sheepish, but there was a glint of excitement in his eyes. "Well," he began, rubbing the back of his neck, "we're not exactly planning to become Animagi..."

Sirius cut in with a dramatic flourish, unable to hold back any longer. "We're already working on it, the research part that is," he said, his voice filled with a mixture of pride and reckless enthusiasm. "And we were thinking... since you're in on the big secret now, maybe you'd want to help."

Hermione's eyes widened. "You're serious?" she asked, but then shot a look at Sirius. "Not you, I mean—you're not serious—" She paused, exasperated. "You know what I mean."

Sirius laughed, clearly enjoying her flustered reaction. "Yes, we're serious," he said, leaning forward with a conspiratorial smile. "We've been working on it for months, but it's... well, it's complicated. Dangerous, even."

"Which is why we could use your help," James added quickly, his expression turning earnest. "We want to do this right. And we think you'd be a huge help. And you know... if you wanted in, we wouldn't be opposed."

Hermione's breath hitched, her thoughts spinning wildly. She knew Animagus transformations were some of the most difficult and dangerous magic out there—magic that required mastery far beyond their years. Her logical side was practically screaming that this was insane, that they were playing with fire. The risks were monumental: failed transformations, permanent disfigurement, and—if caught—serious repercussions from the Ministry.

But then she looked into James's eyes, and saw the unyielding determination there, the same confidence he carried on the Quidditch pitch when facing down a Bludger. And Sirius... Sirius's reckless energy was tempered by something real, a kind of sincerity she hadn't expected from him. They weren't asking this to show off or for a laugh; they were doing this for Remus. They were willing to break the rules, face dangers, and go to extraordinary lengths for the sake of their friend—and they wanted her to be part of it.

"You're asking me to help you become illegal Animagi?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, trying to absorb the weight of it all. Then she hesitated, the second part of what they were suggesting sinking in. "For me to become one as well?"

James nodded, his expression softening, revealing a vulnerability she had rarely seen. "Yeah," he said quietly, his voice gentle. "But only if you're comfortable. It's... a big decision, and it's dangerous. We'd understand if you said no. We just thought... you might want to be in on it. With us."

Hermione's heart twisted. The offer was more than just an invitation to break the rules. It was a symbol of trust, an unspoken acknowledgment that she had become part of their circle, that they saw her as one of them. It was a risk, yes—but it was also a rare opportunity to be part of something extraordinary. Her fingers itched with the urge to learn, to study, to research every aspect of this forbidden transformation until she knew it inside and out. But could she really do this? Could she really break the rules she had lived by for so long?

Sirius leaned in closer, his gaze intense and unwavering. "But you're one of us now," he said softly, and his words carried a weight that sent a shiver down her spine. "And we trust you."

Hermione swallowed hard, feeling the gravity of his statement settle around her. They were offering her more than just a secret—they were offering her a bond, a kind of loyalty and friendship she had never experienced before. The rational side of her mind wavered, and she felt the scales tipping.

Taking a deep breath, she met their gazes with quiet determination. "Alright," she said slowly, the decision settling in her chest like a lead weight. "I'll help. And... if it's really what you want, I'll try to become one too. But," she added quickly, raising a finger before they could celebrate, "we do this the right way. No shortcuts, no recklessness. We research every spell, every ingredient, every detail, and we take it step-by-step. If I'm going to risk this, we do it my way."

James's face broke into a wide grin, and Sirius looked like he was about to whoop with excitement. Instead, he reached over and pulled her into a tight, impulsive hug. "Deal, Kitten," he said, his voice low and sincere. "We'll do it your way."

James's eyes shone with pride, and he clapped her on the shoulder. "Welcome to the real Marauder madness, Hermione," he said, his voice full of warmth. "But... there is one more thing."

Hermione frowned, sensing the hesitation in his voice. "What's that?"

James's gaze flicked to Sirius, who looked unusually serious for once. "You can't tell Remus," he said slowly.

Hermione's eyes widened in disbelief. "What? Why not?"

Sirius let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. "Because he kind of already made us promise not to do it last year."

"What?" Hermione's voice was a mixture of shock and confusion. "But... then why are you—"

"Because he needs this," James interrupted, his expression earnest. "He doesn't get it, but he needs this. We're doing it for him, even if he won't admit he wants us to."

Hermione's mind raced, piecing together the implications. "So he told you not to become Animagi... and you're doing it anyway?" she asked, incredulous.

"Look, he only asked us to promise because he's scared," Sirius said, his voice softer now, almost pleading. "He doesn't want us to get hurt, but he's lonely, Hermione. You've seen how he is around the full moon. He's terrified of hurting someone, of being alone. We just... we want to be there for him. And this is the only way we can."

Hermione felt a pang in her chest, the reality of their situation settling in. She could see the deep, unspoken bond they had with Remus—the lengths they were willing to go to make him feel less alone. It was reckless, dangerous, and a little bit mad... but it was also born out of a fierce, unwavering loyalty she couldn't help but admire.

"He wouldn't approve," Hermione said quietly, her gaze drifting down to the floor. "He'd be angry if he knew."

James's voice softened. "Yeah, he would. But once we figure it out, once we're there with him... I think he'll understand."

Hermione let out a slow breath, feeling the weight of their decision pressing down on her. "Alright," she said at last, her voice steady. "I won't tell him."

Sirius's expression softened, and he gave her a grateful smile. "You're in, Kitten. All the way."

Hermione couldn't help but roll her eyes at the nickname that had become almost a badge of honour. "If my Animagus form ends up being a cat because of all your suggestive language, I will absolutely hex you," she said, half-serious and half-teasing.

Sirius chuckled, his usual bravado returning as he raised his hands in mock surrender. "Well, if you turn into a cat, I'll take full credit. But hey, cats are sneaky, smart, and always land on their feet—seems fitting, don't you think?"

James snorted, shaking his head. "If Hermione's form ends up being a cat, she'll be the most dangerous one we've ever met. You'll be running for your life, Sirius."

"Don't give her any ideas!" Sirius laughed, but there was a playful glint in his eyes that showed he didn't mind the teasing. He leaned back, resting his arms behind his head. "But seriously, Kitten—or whatever you end up being—you'll fit right in. We've got your back."

Hermione's teasing smile faded, replaced by something more genuine. "Thanks," she said softly. There was a warmth settling in her chest—a sense of belonging that felt almost foreign but so, so welcome. "And if either of you end up as a snake, I swear I'll reconsider this whole thing."

James burst out laughing, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "A snake? Us? Come on, Hermione, you know we're Gryffindors through and through! No Slytherin forms here."

Sirius smirked, leaning closer with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Oh, don't worry, Kitten. If I turn into a snake, I'll make sure to hiss your name whenever you're not looking. Keep you on your toes."

Hermione rolled her eyes, though she couldn't quite hide the smile tugging at her lips. "I'd probably just step on you," she shot back, crossing her arms. "Besides, if anyone's going to end up as a snake, it'll be you, Black. You've got the tongue for it."

"Harsh," Sirius said with mock offence, pressing a hand to his chest as if she had wounded him. "I thought we were friends now. I feel so betrayed."

"Oh, we are friends," Hermione said with a sweet smile. "But that doesn't mean I'll go easy on you."

James shook his head, grinning from ear to ear. "I'm honestly more worried about what you'll turn into, Hermione. Whatever it is, I have a feeling you'll be able to outthink us all."

"Better watch out," she replied, her smile widening. "I might just surprise you."

"I hope you do," Sirius said, and for a moment, there was no teasing, just a genuine look of camaraderie that made Hermione's heart warm.