Remus was back from the Hospital Wing, sitting quietly in the common room, looking a little worn out, but at least no obvious new scars, a book open in his lap. Hermione spotted him the moment she entered and felt a wave of guilt. She, Peter, James, and Sirius had been so caught up in their latest escapade that they hadn't even checked in on him that afternoon. Worse still, she knew they'd be sneaking out without him later that night, a secret they were carefully keeping even from their closest friend.
Determined to make up for it, she crossed the room with a bright smile. "There's my favourite Marauder!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around Remus and giving him a hug. He looked momentarily startled but smiled, patting her back in return.
"Hey, I was hoping you'd stop by," he said, closing his book. "You've been busy today."
"Just a bit," Hermione admitted, sitting down beside him. She tried not to meet his eyes, feeling a twinge of guilt. Before she could say anything more, Sirius flopped dramatically onto the couch next to them, clutching his chest as if wounded.
"Ouch, Kitten, you wound me!" Sirius groaned, pretending to be mortally offended by Hermione's attention to Remus. She just rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at him.
"Where have you guys been all day?" Remus asked, his curiosity piqued.
"Got caught by Filch," James interjected, plopping down on Hermione's other side and grinning like it was a great accomplishment.
Remus's eyebrows shot up. "What did you do now?" he asked warily.
"Nothing!" James said with feigned innocence, spreading his hands wide. "Just wanted to promote some healthy appreciation for the Gryffindor Quidditch Team."
"Uh-huh," Remus said, clearly unconvinced as he looked between his friends. "And that's why you got caught by Filch?"
"Filch doesn't have a sense of humour," Sirius said, shaking his head. "The man's practically allergic to fun."
Hermione bit her lip, trying to keep a straight face. She knew they were all dodging the real reason Filch had caught them—the prank that had gone awry and their unexpected discovery of the Death's Head Hawk Moths in his office. But that was something she couldn't discuss openly, not without giving away their Animagus plans. She needed to deflect.
"Oh, you know," she said breezily, "I was just there to supervise and make sure they didn't blow up the castle. Again."
Remus gave her a sceptical look, his gaze lingering a bit longer than necessary. "You've been hanging around them too much," he said, though his tone was fond.
"Hey, she's a proper Marauder now," Sirius said with a proud grin, nudging Hermione with his shoulder. "She can't help but get caught up in our genius."
Remus looked thoughtful, a slight frown tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Just be careful, alright?" he said quietly, his gaze flicking to Hermione for a moment before he turned back to the fire. "I'd hate to see you get in trouble."
Touched by his concern, Hermione reached over and squeezed his hand. "I'll be careful," she promised, trying to ignore the growing sense of guilt. She had become a part of this secret world of theirs, but it was tearing her between loyalty to Remus and the excitement of the Marauders' plans.
James, sensing the shift in mood, leaned in with a conspiratorial grin. "No worries, Moony. We're not planning anything too dangerous."
Hermione's stomach churned. Tonight, when Remus was fast asleep, they'd be sneaking back to Filch's office to retrieve the chrysalises they needed for the Animagus transformation. She just hoped they could pull it off without getting caught—by Filch or by Remus.
Midnight arrived, and the Gryffindor common room was bathed in shadows. Hermione, James, Sirius, and Peter gathered quietly by the portrait hole, the Invisibility Cloak already draped over them. It was a tight fit with all four of them, and they moved as one—James leading the way. Such a tight fit actually, Hermione just went ahead and disillusioned themselves as well, hoping their ankles wouldn't draw attention. They slipped out, the Fat Lady muttering groggily in her frame as they passed.
When they reached the first floor, Peter broke off from the group, flashing them a nervous but determined smile. His task was crucial: to create a diversion in the Library that would draw Filch away from his office. Hermione gave him a nod, and Peter disappeared into the darkness, his footsteps fading into silence.
The rest of them crept towards Filch's office, the familiar tension building as they moved closer. James stayed a few paces behind, taking his post at the corner to act as lookout while Hermione and Sirius approached the door. Sirius pulled out a small, well-worn enchanted knife—the one he proudly claimed could unlock anything—and slid it into the lock. With a quiet click, the door opened without a hitch.
"Stay sharp," James whispered, his gaze darting down the corridor.
"We'll be quick," Sirius replied, giving a thumbs-up before pushing the door open just wide enough for him and Hermione to slip inside.
Hermione's heart raced as she swept her wand in a wide arc, muttering detection spells under her breath. A faint blue light glowed around some of the shelves—likely Filch's rudimentary alarm wards—but they were old and clumsy, not enough to stop a well-placed counter. With a few flicks of her wand, she disarmed them, and the faint blue glow vanished.
"Clear," she whispered, giving Sirius a nod.
He grinned, eyes glinting with the thrill of it, and ventured further inside the office, moving straight to the tall, glass-fronted cabinet at the back. The smell hit them again—a mix of mothballs and stale air, but Sirius didn't hesitate. He slid his knife between the cabinet's lock, and it clicked open without resistance.
Outside, James was crouched near the corner, watching for any sign of movement. The silence of the castle was broken by a sudden clatter from the direction of the Library, followed by the unmistakable angry mutterings of Filch. Peter's distraction had worked.
Inside the office, Hermione kept her wand trained on the door, ready for any sudden interruptions, while Sirius carefully opened the cabinet. The faint fluttering of Death's Head Hawk Moths filled the quiet space, their chrysalises glimmering in the dim light.
Sirius moved quickly but carefully, his movements precise as he used a small pair of tweezers to extract the chrysalises, one by one, and place them into a jar he had brought. His face was alight with concentration, his usual reckless energy channelled into a steady, methodical focus. In total, he managed to gather four—one for each of them.
"Hurry," Hermione hissed, feeling the tension build with every second. Her heart was beating so loudly she was sure it would give them away.
"Almost done," Sirius whispered back, securing the last chrysalis and sealing the jar with a soft click. He carefully closed the cabinet and locked it with a flick of his knife, leaving no trace of their presence.
They eased the office door shut and pressed themselves against the wall. James's silhouette appeared in the shadows as he opened the Invisibility Cloak for them, his eyes alight with relief when he saw them.
"All clear," he mouthed, leading them back the way they had come.
The journey back to the common room felt like an eternity, every creak of the castle sending their nerves into overdrive. But they made it, slipping silently through the portrait hole just as the Fat Lady began to stir again. Once they were back inside, they threw off the Cloak, their faces flushed with exhilaration.
"Did you get them?" James asked eagerly, his eyes wide.
Sirius held up the silver phial with a triumphant grin. "All four, safe and sound."
Hermione let out a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding. "We actually did it," she said, a shaky smile spreading across her face.
"Best heist ever," James said, pulling Hermione and Sirius into a tight group hug.
Peter stumbled through the portrait hole, his face flushed and hair slightly askew, clearly out of breath from his sprint back to the common room. "Tell me it worked," he gasped, doubling over with his hands on his knees, struggling to catch his breath.
Sirius's grin widened, and he held up the silver phial containing the precious chrysalises. "Worked like a charm, mate," he said triumphantly. "We've got all four."
Peter's face lit up with relief, and he let out a whoop of joy, practically collapsing into one of the armchairs. "Thank Merlin," he said, wiping his brow. "I had to knock over a whole stack of books to keep Filch occupied. Nearly ran into Mrs Potts on the way back too."
James clapped him on the shoulder, grinning. "You did great, Pete. We couldn't have done it without you."
"Definitely," Hermione agreed, smiling warmly at Peter, who looked more relieved at the praise than he probably ever had in his life. "We have everything we need now. Next step... we get the rest of the ingredients."
Sirius practically bounced on his feet, clearly ready to start planning the next phase. "And this time, we'll make sure no one messes up the timing with the mandrake leaf," he said, shooting a teasing look at Peter, who blushed but laughed along.
Hermione couldn't help but smile, feeling a warmth spread through her. They'd pulled off a nearly impossible task tonight, together. They were one step closer to their goal, and despite the nerves and risk involved, she knew she wouldn't trade this experience for anything.
Hermione sat at a desk in the Gryffindor common room, her quill poised over the parchment for what felt like hours. Writing this letter to Molly Weasley was one of the hardest things she'd had to do since arriving in this timeline. The Weasleys had been so kind, treating her like one of their own, and now she was turning down an invitation to spend Christmas with them. It felt like she was betraying the closest thing she had to a family in this era.
She dipped the quill into the ink pot and finally began to write, spinning a tale about how she didn't want to intrude on their family time and how she felt more comfortable staying at Hogwarts. The words tasted bitter as she wrote them, knowing they weren't entirely true. But what could she say? That she had to stay behind because she was helping three Marauders with an illegal Animagus transformation that required her full presence over the break?
Once the letter was finished, she folded it carefully, carried it to the Owlery and tied it to the leg of one of the school owls, feeling a pang of guilt as she watched it fly away. The weight in her chest only grew heavier the next day when she received Molly's reply—a warm, understanding note telling her she was always welcome if she changed her mind. There was no guilt or disappointment in the letter, just kindness, and that made it all the worse. Hermione felt tears well up as she read it, her vision blurring.
She quickly wiped at her eyes, but it was too late—Remus had seen her. He approached quietly, his expression concerned. "Hermione, are you alright?" he asked, sitting down beside her.
Hermione swallowed hard, trying to keep her composure. "I'm fine," she said, her voice catching slightly. "It's just... a letter from Molly Weasley."
Remus's brow furrowed, and he glanced at the letter still clutched in her hand. "Did something happen?"
"No," Hermione said quickly, shaking her head. "It's just... they invited me for Christmas, and I said no. And they were so kind about it. I just feel... like I'm letting them down."
"Why aren't you going?" Remus asked gently, his eyes searching hers. "If it's on my account, please don't. I'll be fine."
Hermione hesitated, knowing that Remus was staying at Hogwarts because of the full moon scheduled to hit right in the middle of the break. While the Lupins had everything necessary to accommodate him, Remus had chosen to stay at the castle rather than put his father through the stress of dealing with another transformation during the holidays. The least Hermione could do was visit him once it was over, but that wasn't the real reason she had turned down the Weasleys' invitation.
"No, it's not that," she said softly, giving him a reassuring smile. "Although you can expect an early morning visit from me after… you know." She paused, fiddling with the edge of Molly's letter. "It's just... I don't really feel like I belong there, you know? They were so generous, taking me in, treating me like family. But I can't shake the feeling that I'm intruding. Spending the whole festive period with them feels... wrong, somehow. It's one thing to visit for a day or two, but Christmas is... well, it's family time."
She also pointedly did not want to talk about the fact that she missed her real parents and the skiing trips she used to go on with them during winter holidays. It would make absolutely no sense in the context of pureblood Hermione Prewett.
Remus's expression softened, understanding washing over his features. "I get that," he said. "Christmas is... complicated. It's supposed to be this perfect, happy time, but it's not always like that, is it?"
Hermione's shoulders relaxed a little, grateful that he wasn't pressing her to change her mind. "Exactly. And I don't want to force myself into something that doesn't quite fit. They mean a lot to me, but this year... I think I just need to be here."
Remus nodded, reaching out to gently pat her shoulder. "Well, I'm glad you'll be around," he said sincerely. "Even if the castle's going to be emptier than usual."
Hermione smiled back, feeling some of the weight lift from her chest. "You know, James told me he invited Sirius over to his house for Christmas," she said, the hint of a grin tugging at her lips. "I think he wanted to make sure Sirius had somewhere to go after the Blacks told him not to bother coming home."
Remus's eyes brightened a little at the news. "That's good," he said with relief. "Sirius would have been a nightmare if he'd had to stay here alone. He hates it when the castle's too quiet."
Hermione chuckled, imagining Sirius trying to occupy himself in an empty Hogwarts. "I think James is hoping that having Sirius around will distract him from the whole... Lily situation."
Remus snorted, shaking his head. "Fat chance. But at least they'll have fun. And... I'm really glad you're staying, Hermione. It's nice to know I won't be the only one here."
She felt a warmth spread through her chest at his words, a comforting sense of companionship she hadn't felt in a long time. "You're not alone," she promised softly. "Not this Christmas."
Just as Remus was about to reply, James bounded over and flopped down beside them, practically buzzing with excitement. "I just talked to Minnie—"
"Professor McGonagall," Hermione interrupted automatically, earning a laugh from Remus.
James just grinned at her correction, unbothered. "Yeah, yeah, Professor McGonagall. Anyway, I talked to her, and arranged everything. You guys are invited to come over to Potter Manor for New Year's! You can Floo in from her office around noon on the 31st. We'll take the train back with everyone else on the 4th."
Hermione's eyes widened, and she stared at James, her mouth falling open. "I don't want to intrude..."
"You won't," James said firmly, waving off her concern. "Mum's always hosting a little New Year's ball, and she's excited to have you. Besides, it wouldn't be the same without you two."
Remus's face lit up, his weariness momentarily forgotten. "I'm in," he said enthusiastically, his usual reserved demeanour giving way to genuine excitement. It was two days after the full moon, and he'd be well enough to enjoy himself by then. Besides, he'd always loved staying at the Potters'—their house was a haven of warmth and acceptance that he never got tired of.
James's grin only widened as he turned to Hermione. "What do you say, Kitten? Are you in? Peter's coming over for the party, but he's not staying the extra days. It's just going to be me, you, Sirius, and Remus after the ball."
Hermione hesitated, the thought of spending time at Potter Manor both thrilling and intimidating. But the way James was looking at her, his eyes so eager and welcoming, made it hard to say no. She glanced at Remus, who gave her an encouraging nod.
"If you're sure it's alright..." she said slowly.
"Absolutely," James said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Besides, Mum will love you. She's always saying I don't bring enough friends over."
Hermione couldn't help but smile, feeling a warmth settle in her chest again. The invitation felt like another step towards becoming a real part of the Marauders' world—a part she hadn't even realised she'd been craving. "Alright then," she said with a nod. "I'm in."
"Brilliant!" James exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "We'll have the best time—food, music, fireworks, the works. You won't regret it."
Remus's smile softened as he looked at Hermione, his eyes shining with approval. "I told you you're not alone," he said gently.
Hermione returned his smile, feeling the truth of his words settle deep in her heart. "No," she said, glancing at James's exuberant expression, "I guess I'm really not."
The day of the train's departure seemed to arrive in the blink of an eye, catching Hermione off guard when she realised it was the next day. It felt as though time had sped up, leaving her scrambling to catch up with the whirlwind of preparations. Even though she knew Time-Turners couldn't actually move you forward in time, she couldn't shake the feeling that the last few weeks had somehow slipped through her fingers.
James approached her in the common room while the others were still busy packing, their trunks haphazardly opened and robes strewn everywhere. They were also making sure Remus was preoccupied, and Hermione was grateful for the distraction they were providing. It gave her a moment alone with James, who pulled something from behind his back—a familiar, silvery fabric that shimmered even in the dim light.
"Here," he said, pressing the Invisibility Cloak into her hands with a serious expression. "Keep it with you, in case... you know, you need to do some sneaking around in the forest to get the dew. And—" He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, polished silver spoon, handing it to her. "This is one of the spoons Sirius procured. Do us proud, Kitten."
Hermione's fingers brushed the smooth metal of the spoon, feeling the weight of the responsibility he was entrusting her with. She met his gaze, a rush of determination surging through her. "Are you taking some mandrake leaves to start on the full moon?" she asked, suddenly anxious about the timing of their plan.
James shook his head, looking a little frustrated. "No. If we pluck them now, they'll dry up before we're ready to use them. We'll have to push the whole thing back and start at the end of January, right after the next full moon."
Hermione nodded, absorbing the information. She knew it made sense—this way, they'd have the entire month of February to get everything in order without risking the integrity of the leaves. "Alright. I still think the dew needs to be fresh, but I'll get batches for all of you on this full moon along with mine and then we'll see."
James nodded thoughtfully, his eyes flicking to the window where the late afternoon sunlight was beginning to fade. "Let's hope for the best that what you gather will be good for ours as well in a couple of months, if not we'll just start over. Oh, before I forget, your chrysalis."
He got the container out that Sirius had collected them into the other night, plucked one out and handed it to Hermione, who quickly conjured another jar to keep it in.
"Thanks," Hermione said, carefully placing the chrysalis into her conjured jar and sealing it with a muttered spell. She held the container in her hands, feeling the slight weight of it settle—a small but significant reminder of just how serious this whole project was. "I'll make sure it's safe."
James nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "I know you will," he said. "Just be sure you don't let Filch or Mrs Potts anywhere near it. I'd hate to think of all that effort going to waste."
Hermione rolled her eyes with a playful smirk. "Don't worry, I've got it under control. Besides, I'd never let a cat mess up something this important."
Oh, the irony of that statement, she thought.
As he started to move away, he hesitated and looked back. "Remember—be careful. The Forbidden Forest is... well, you know. It's not exactly safe, even under the Cloak."
Hermione's smile turned a bit wry. "This isn't my first adventure, Potter," she said lightly, though a hint of nervousness fluttered in her chest. "I'll manage."
James chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, I know you will. Just—don't do anything reckless, okay?"
She raised an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth twitching. "You're lecturing me about recklessness? Really?"
He gave her a mockingly scandalised look, holding his hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright. Point taken. Just... look out for yourself."
Hermione nodded, her expression softening. "I will," she said, and they shared a brief, comfortable silence before James gave her a final nod and headed upstairs.
The next day, the entrance hall was buzzing with excited chatter as students prepared to board the Hogwarts Express for the Christmas holidays. Hermione and Remus stood by the great wooden doors, their breaths visible in the crisp December air, saying goodbye to the others who were heading home. Hermione's arm was looped comfortably through Remus's, and though she noticed the odd, speculative looks they were getting, she chose to ignore them. She was used to the whispering by now—rumours about her and Sirius had started weeks ago and never quite died down, and now, it seemed, the sight of her with Remus was about to start another round of speculation.
She couldn't bring herself to care. It didn't matter what the rumour mill churned out; she knew the truth, and that was enough.
Lily, trunk in tow, approached them with a bright smile and pulled Hermione into a quick, friendly hug. But as she stepped back, she eyed the way Hermione's arm was threaded through Remus's with a curious look.
"Don't you start, Lily," Hermione said, sensing the unspoken question on the tip of her friend's tongue. Remus looked at her in confusion, his brows knitting together. Hermione sighed, realising he had no idea what she was talking about.
"Apparently, the school gossip thinks I'm Sirius's secret girlfriend," she explained, rolling her eyes. "And now, seeing me with you... I can practically hear the gears turning."
Remus's eyes widened, and then he let out a loud, genuine laugh that echoed through the entrance hall. A few students turned to look at them, and he clapped a hand over his mouth, trying to stifle his amusement.
"Sorry," he managed between chuckles. "But that's just... that's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. Trust me, if Sirius were dating someone, the whole castle would know about it within five minutes. He's not exactly the secretive type."
Hermione chuckled, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders at his reaction. "Exactly what I said," she agreed, smiling back at him. She really didn't get why this was still on the agenda anyway. Just last week Sirius was caught snogging a Ravenclaw girl in one of the broom cupboards.
Lily, still holding onto the handle of her trunk, shook her head with a bemused smile. "Well, I'm glad it's you two staying. I'd reckon the castle wouldn't bear an assault of Potter and Black left here practically unattended."
"I'm not so sure. I reckon the Library will need some serious rearranging with the amount of books we plan on checking out," Hermione teased. "Have a good holiday, Lily. We'll catch up when you're back."
Lily gave them both a quick wave, her eyes lingering on Remus for a second longer with a thoughtful expression before she turned and headed towards the carriages, leaving them alone amidst the bustle.
As the Marauders barreled down the stairs, James leading the charge with his trunk bouncing precariously behind him, Sirius and Peter were in tow, both looking slightly dishevelled. Sirius had that wild, half-amused look in his eyes that Hermione had come to associate with him when he was running late—like it was all a big, exhilarating game.
"Oi! Wait up, Evans!" James shouted, waving frantically as he caught sight of Lily getting in one of the carriages. She rolled her eyes but paused, giving him an exasperated look as he skidded to a stop beside her.
Sirius grinned, noticing Hermione and Remus still standing by the castle entrance. "What, you're not coming to see us off properly?" he called out, mockingly offended.
"We've got front-row seats to your mad dash," Hermione replied dryly, raising an eyebrow. "Consider yourselves officially seen off."
"Hey, Kitten, don't go having too much fun without us!" Sirius shot back, a teasing glint in his eye.
Remus chuckled beside her. "I'm pretty sure the castle will be a much calmer place without you lot here to cause chaos."
James gave Hermione a quick, almost nervous smile before turning his attention back to Lily, who was still patiently waiting. "Have a great Christmas, Evans!" he said, his tone overly enthusiastic, clearly still trying to make an impression. Lily just sighed, shaking her head with a faint smile.
Peter, looking a bit out of breath, gave Hermione and Remus a small, hesitant wave. "Take care," he said, his voice softer than usual. "We'll see you at New Year's."
"Take care, Peter. Don't let these two get into too much trouble," Hermione replied, giving him a reassuring smile.
"Fat chance of that," Peter muttered with a wry smile, glancing at Sirius and James who were already climbing into the nearest carriage.
The Marauders piled in, Sirius hanging halfway out the door to give them one last exaggerated wave. "Merry Christmas, you two! Don't get too lonely without us!" he called, grinning widely.
Remus snorted. "I think we'll manage just fine, thanks."
As the carriage rolled away, James gave a final salute, and Hermione and Remus watched them disappear down the snowy path. The castle loomed behind them, feeling strangely large and empty. They both stood in silence, the crisp winter air around them tinged with a hint of melancholy and anticipation.
Finally, Remus broke the silence, his voice soft and a little wistful. "Well, it's just us."
"Yeah," Hermione said, feeling a small smile tug at her lips as they turned back towards the warmth of the castle. "Just us."
"Library?" Remus asked.
Hermione smiled, feeling as if he had read her mind. "Library."
Remus chuckled, offering his arm again. Hermione took it without hesitation, feeling a sense of camaraderie settle between them. The echoes of their friends' departure faded as they walked back through the entrance hall, the thick wooden doors swinging shut behind them with a heavy thud.
The castle was quieter now, only a handful of students remaining for the holidays, and it felt like they had the entire place to themselves. It was a strange, comforting feeling—like the pressure to keep up with the usual hustle had vanished, leaving behind a peaceful calm.
"Think we'll have the whole Library to ourselves?" Hermione asked, a note of excitement in her voice.
Remus smiled softly, his expression serene. "Knowing the other students who are staying behind? Definitely. It's just us and the shelves."
They wound their way through the empty corridors, the faint glow of torches lighting their path. It was a familiar journey for both of them, but tonight it felt a little different. The castle seemed to exhale, its ancient stones holding the warmth of countless Christmases past.
The Library's heavy oak doors creaked open, revealing rows of books waiting in quiet anticipation. Hermione breathed in deeply, the scent of parchment and ink enveloping her like a warm hug. They found their favourite corner—a secluded nook by a tall window, where the soft, filtered light of the moon cast gentle shadows over the pages.
"Any particular subject in mind?" Remus asked, settling into one of the armchairs with a contented sigh, clearly enjoying the peaceful atmosphere of the Library.
"Shall we try cracking the Homonculus Charm for the map again?" Hermione suggested.
Remus's eyes brightened immediately, a spark of excitement replacing the weariness from the past few days. "Definitely," he said, leaning forward with interest.
"I was thinking," Hermione continued, rifling through her bag and pulling out a stack of notes, "that we need to dive into some Arithmancy books."
Remus's brow furrowed in confusion. "What? Why? I thought we had the basics down for the charm itself."
Hermione smiled, laying out a parchment full of numbers and calculations. "We do, but casting a Homonculus Charm on the scale we want—covering the entire castle, tracking every person in real-time—it's a huge undertaking. We need to figure out if we actually have enough magical power between us to pull it off, especially since we're only in fourth year."
Remus's eyes widened a little as he took in the parchment, which was filled with precise equations and notes. "You're saying we might not have enough power?"
"Exactly," Hermione said, tapping her quill thoughtfully against the edge of the parchment. "The castle is enormous, and our magical cores are still developing. I need to calculate if we can manage it without risking magical exhaustion. We don't want the map collapsing halfway through because we overextended ourselves."
Remus nodded slowly, his interest deepening. "So, you're saying we need to figure out how much magic it's going to take to sustain the charm long-term?"
"No, not sustain it, it's a self-sustaining charm. Once it latches onto the ambient magic of the mapped area it can run indefinitely," Hermione clarified, opening up one of the thick Arithmancy texts she had brought with her, "but how much it's going to take to cast it in the first place. Hogwarts is a highly enchanted space. We're working against centuries of wards and spells, and that's going to take more power than a typical Homonculus Charm would require per square metre. If we get it wrong, it could mess up everything."
Remus leaned in, his focus sharpening as he scanned the equations Hermione had laid out. "So, what's the verdict so far?"
"I think," Hermione said slowly, tracing a line of calculations with her finger, "that if all five of us cast it together, we might have just enough power by the end of this year. But if we wait until next year, the four of you could probably handle it on your own, without me."
Remus immediately shook his head, a frown creasing his brow. "No. You're part of this, Kitten. We're not leaving you out, even if we can manage without you."
Hermione looked up, a little taken aback by his insistence. "Remus, it's just Arithmancy. If you have enough power between you, it doesn't make sense to—"
"I don't care what the numbers say," he interrupted, his voice firm. "You're in this with us, from start to finish. We're not doing it without you."
A warm feeling blossomed in Hermione's chest, and she nodded, hiding the faint blush creeping up her cheeks by looking back down at the parchment. "Alright," she agreed softly. "All five of us, then."
"Good," Remus said, his tone lighter now. "So, what's the plan?"
"We'll start with smaller-scale tests," Hermione said, excitement bubbling up now that they were on the same page. "We'll practise the charm on just a section of the castle. That way, we can measure how much strain it puts on us and adjust the calculations accordingly."
Remus's eyes were practically glowing with excitement. "I'll talk to the others, and we'll figure out a time to do the test."
They spent the rest of the afternoon pouring over Arithmancy textbooks, Hermione explaining how magical cores expand as witches and wizards grow older, and Remus eagerly helping her refine the calculations. It was meticulous work, and the fading light of the Library made the atmosphere feel almost cosy. When they finally packed up, Hermione felt a rush of confidence. They had a solid plan, and she had a feeling that this map—if they could pull it off—would be unlike anything Hogwarts had ever seen.
After dinner, Remus and Hermione slipped quietly up to the boys' dormitory. The girls' dorm was off-limits to him—the enchanted stairs would turn into a slide the moment he set foot on them—so the boys' room had become their occasional refuge. They sprawled out on Remus's bed, sitting cross-legged across from each other with a pile of chocolate and assorted sweets spread out between them.
Remus popped a Chocolate Frog into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully, while Hermione fiddled with a Sugar Quill, clearly working up the nerve to say something. She hesitated for a moment, then blurted out, "Remus, can I ask you something... personal?"
Remus blinked, swallowing. "Sure," he said slowly, curiosity flickering in his eyes.
"Do you... uhm..." Hermione hesitated, her face heating up. "Do you only like boys?"
Remus's cheeks flushed a light pink, and for a second, Hermione regretted asking. She almost backtracked, ready to apologise, but Remus spoke up, his voice a little shy. "No... I can appreciate the female form just as well if that's what you mean."
"Oh," Hermione said, nodding. A beat passed, and then another, and she couldn't help asking the question that had been on her mind. "Is it... weird? Sharing a room with someone you like?"
Remus shrugged, a faint, rueful smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I'm used to it," he admitted. "He was my dormmate before I developed any feelings for him, so I guess I just learned to deal with it. It's not like I'd want to make things awkward."
Hermione hummed in understanding. She twirled the Sugar Quill between her fingers, chewing on her lip nervously before asking, "Have you... uhm... kissed anyone before?"
Remus's blush deepened, and he shook his head. "Nope," he said honestly.
"Me neither," Hermione confessed, her own face heating up. The admission hung between them, filling the space with a strange mix of comfort and awkwardness.
After a few beats of silence, Hermione cleared her throat, feeling her courage rise. "Do you… do you find me attractive? I mean, not just in the way people might say when they're being polite, but in a genuine, honest-to-goodness sort of way? Like, do you think I could have that kind of… appeal?" she asked, the words tumbling out faster than she had intended.
Remus looked at her, his expression gentle. "I think you're a lovely witch, Hermione," he said sincerely, his voice soft.
They locked eyes for a long, awkward moment, both of them feeling the same unspoken understanding. They were two people hopelessly infatuated with others they thought they could never have—two friends searching for comfort in each other's company, however fleeting or misguided it might be. They hesitated, each silently waiting for the other to make the first move, and finally, it was Remus who leaned forward, almost as if saying ah fuck it, throwing caution into the wind.
The kiss was light, hesitant, just a soft brush of lips. It lasted no more than a second before they pulled back, eyes wide. For a few heartbeats, neither of them spoke, the silence stretching into something almost unbearable.
Then, suddenly, they both broke into laughter, their eyes meeting in a burst of shared relief and amusement.
"Sorry," Remus said, chuckling and rubbing the back of his neck. "That was... like kissing my sister if I had any."
"Same!" Hermione said through her laughter, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. "I mean, brother."
They chuckled again, both of them relieved that their little experiment hadn't turned into a disaster. The tension had broken, replaced by an easy warmth, the kind of comfort only found in real friendship.
Hermione leaned back against the headboard, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Remus... you are my best friend," she said, surprising herself with the realisation as the words left her mouth. And she knew it was true. What she had with Remus was different—stronger in some ways, more honest—than what she'd had with Harry and Ron. Those friendships, while intense, had always left her feeling like she was the one holding them together, always giving without expecting anything in return. Her thoughts drifted to the previous year, how isolated she had felt after the Firebolt incident and the rift over Scabbers' disappearance.
With Remus, it was different. He listened, he cared, and he saw her in a way that felt rare and precious.
Remus's eyes went wide, the weight of her words sinking in. He had his friends—James, Sirius, and Peter—and he loved them, but their dynamic was set in stone. James and Sirius were each other's best friends, practically extensions of one another. Peter idolised them, hanging on their every word. Remus, while valued and protected within their tight-knit circle, had always been the quiet observer, the one who slipped into the background without complaint.
But with Hermione, it was different. There was a mutual understanding, an effortless rapport, and the comfort of shared interests. She didn't treat him like a fragile secret, didn't see him as the sickly one or the outcast, but as Remus. He had never considered the idea of a best friend outside the Marauders, but now he realised that's what Hermione was to him—someone he could truly count on. And technically she was a part of them now too, so it didn't even feel like going outside of their circle.
"Best friend?" he echoed softly, his voice almost hesitant.
Hermione nodded, her gaze warm and unwavering. "Yes," she said, without any hesitation. "I know it's... I mean, I know we haven't known each other that long, but it feels like we've been friends forever. Doesn't it?"
Remus's lips curved into a soft, genuine smile. "Yeah," he said, his voice rough with emotion he rarely let show. "It really does. And you... you're my best friend too."
They shared a quiet, almost solemn moment, both of them absorbing the depth of what they had just acknowledged. There was no awkwardness, no regret about the kiss. It felt like they had crossed an invisible line, not towards romance, but towards something more solid—more enduring. A friendship that, despite its young age, was built on trust, understanding, and a bond neither of them had anticipated.
"Good," Hermione said, the word light and sincere, her smile brightening. "Then it's settled. Partners in crime?"
"Partners in crime," Remus agreed, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
They clinked their chocolate bars together like glasses, laughter spilling between them again. There was no need for anything more—no grand gestures or confessions. What they had, this budding friendship that had become something precious, was enough.
As the night wore on, they swapped stories and theories about spells and magic, discussing favourite books and debating obscure Arithmancy theories. They shared secrets they hadn't told anyone else, confiding hopes and fears in the glow of the dim dormitory lights.
For the first time in a long time, both of them felt truly seen and valued. Not for what they could do, or how they could be useful, but for who they were. And in that quiet space, amidst laughter and the comfort of sweets, they both found a kind of peace neither had realised they'd been searching for.
As the night deepened, they eventually drifted off to sleep—Hermione's head resting lightly on Remus's shoulder, and his arm draped over hers. It wasn't romantic. It wasn't complicated. It was simply friendship, in its purest form, and they were content.