Peter's birthday went by in a flash really. All he really wanted was to get sloshed, so Sirius obliged as always with the stash of Firewhiskey. Then the final Quidditch match of the year was already upon them, which unfortunately had landed right on the day of the full moon—of all days—and Remus had made it abundantly clear he had no plans to leave the dormitory. The noise of the cheering crowd, the echo of whistles and chants—all of it would only worsen the headache that had settled in, and he wasn't in any mood to deal with the clamour.
When Hermione poked her head into the boys' dorm, ready to stay with him, he practically scowled at her. "Go on, Hermione. Support Gryffindor—Merlin knows they need you there more than I do."
Hermione crossed her arms, undeterred. "I'd prefer to stay with you. You look miserable." If she were completely honest she would rather stay with him as an ermine through the whole process, but they had agreed with the other Marauders to only tell Remus when all of them had managed the Animagus transformation and do it together. There was a strength in numbers, and her form was small anyway, she would be completely vulnerable if anything went wrong. It was probably best not to risk it.
Remus huffed, his voice thick with irritation. "At least one of us should be able to ogle the object of our affections from the stands." He muttered it under his breath, almost as if he didn't mean to say it, but it slipped out. Hermione had the distinct feeling that she was not supposed to have caught that little confession, so she decided to spare him, pretending not to have noticed. He got the most moody about Sirius on full moon days.
With a soft smile, she leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. Remus grumbled but didn't pull away, and when she straightened up, he closed his eyes, already settling back into bed.
"All right, but take care of yourself," she said softly before leaving the room, still smiling at his quiet admission.
Once Hermione reached the Quidditch pitch, she scanned the stands, spotting Lily, Mary, Alice, and Peter in the Gryffindor section. She quickly climbed up to join them, slipping into a seat beside Lily as she settled in, bracing herself for the inevitable rush of adrenaline that came with every match. Peter seemed to be in a lively discussion with Mary, so she didn't feel bad about not sitting with him.
As soon as the players soared out onto the pitch, her eyes found James, his figure unmistakable as he circled the pitch, scanning the field before getting into formation with the other two Chasers. She cheered enthusiastically, though she made an effort to cheer for Sirius and Marlene as well whenever they passed by. But she couldn't deny that her focus was almost entirely on James, watching the way he dived and manoeuvred with precision and determination, his movements fluid and confident.
About hundred points in through the game, Hermione noticed Lily casting her a sidelong glance. At first, she ignored it, but as Lily's gaze lingered, Hermione's curiosity got the best of her.
"What?" Hermione asked, giving her a bemused smile as they leaned close to avoid the noise of the crowd.
"You fancy James," Lily said, keeping her voice low enough that only Hermione could hear, though her tone was matter-of-fact.
"No, I don't," Hermione replied instinctively, but her protest lacked conviction.
"Yes, you do." Lily's eyes sparkled with a knowing look, as though daring Hermione to deny it again.
Hermione sighed, dropping her gaze to her hands. "It doesn't matter. He doesn't fancy me. He fancies you. And I just want him to be happy."
Lily raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by Hermione's response. "Wait… Were you giving him advice? Was that why he was tolerable at times?"
Hermione sighed again, a small, rueful smile tugging at her lips. "I just told him you didn't appreciate all the over-the-top gestures. But he gets too excited, and then it's like everything I said goes right out the window." She glanced out at the pitch, watching as James pulled off an impressive dive. "He's actually very nice when he isn't trying to impress you."
Lily's expression softened, her gaze thoughtful as she studied Hermione. "You know… you can have him, Hermione. I don't want anything to do with him." Her tone was gentle but resolute, as though this were something she'd decided long ago.
Hermione shook her head, a bittersweet smile on her face. "It's not really up to me, is it? He chose you."
"Well, I'm not choosing him," Lily replied firmly, though there was a touch of sympathy in her voice.
Hermione shrugged, her eyes fixed on James as he swooped down to intercept the Quaffle. "Doesn't change the fact that he doesn't see me like that."
Lily tilted her head, an odd mixture of admiration and sadness in her expression. "You're a better person than I could ever be, Hermione Prewett. I'd be a jealous nightmare if I were in your shoes."
Hermione laughed softly, though there was a sadness in her eyes. "I just know we're not meant to be. Why waste my energy on feelings that will only make things harder? This part, at least, I can control."
Lily nodded slowly, seeming to understand. She placed a gentle hand on Hermione's arm. "That's a rare kind of strength, you know. Most people… they'd do anything to have what they want, even if it means getting hurt in the process."
Hermione looked down, her voice soft. "Maybe. But I think… sometimes, being able to let go is the only way to protect yourself. To keep something from turning into something it's not meant to be."
They fell into a comfortable silence, watching the game play out below them. Hermione felt a strange sort of peace settle over her. She would cheer for James and support him, just as she always had, but she could let go of hoping for anything more. It was a quiet acceptance, and though it stung, she knew it was the right choice.
And as the final whistle blew, marking Gryffindor's hard-won victory, Hermione joined in the cheering, her voice rising with the rest of the crowd. She could feel Lily watching her with something akin to admiration, a quiet understanding passing between them. In that moment, Hermione knew she wasn't alone in her struggle. Lily had her own heartache to bear—the complicated, lingering affection—even if a platonic one—she still held for Severus Snape, despite the growing chasm between them. They both understood what it meant to care for someone deeply, even when it wasn't returned in the way they'd hoped or when the connection seemed impossible to maintain.
In that moment, the cheers and laughter filling the air around them, Hermione felt the strength of her own resilience, knowing that whatever happened next, she could handle it. She would be there for her friends, with or without the romance she had imagined, and somehow, that was enough.
Hermione joined the crowd, making her way toward James and Sirius, who were grinning from ear to ear, their faces alight with the thrill of victory. Gryffindor hadn't just won the match—they'd claimed the Quidditch Cup itself, securing the win they'd been fighting for all year. She was about to congratulate them when she saw James's eyes lock on Lily, who stood off to the side with a small smile, her arms crossed.
He took a step, his grin broadening as he headed towards her, but just as he was about to reach Lily, she deftly shifted out of the way, giving him a gentle push in Hermione's direction. James stumbled, nearly colliding with Hermione as he tried to steady himself.
Hermione's cheeks flushed bright pink as they bumped into each other, her gaze shooting up to meet his before she threw a quick, incredulous look back at Lily. Lily only smirked, her expression entirely unapologetic.
"Uh, hey, Hermione," James said, a hint of awkwardness in his voice as he straightened up, rubbing the back of his neck. He recovered quickly, his eyes brightening again with excitement. "Did you see that last play?"
Hermione managed a smile, though her cheeks were still warm. "I did. Great flying, James." She shifted slightly, feeling self-conscious under his gaze and keenly aware of Lily's smirk in the background. Needing a moment to collect herself, she continued, "I, um… actually should probably head back to the dorms, though. I want to make sure Remus is with Madam Pomfrey before the party starts. He had a headache before I left."
James's smile softened, a flash of concern crossing his face. "Yeah, thanks, good thinking." He cleared his throat, seemingly grateful for the shift in conversation. "Remus will appreciate it. You know how his furry little problem can be on these days."
Hermione nodded, feeling the tension in her shoulders ease as the conversation turned back to their mutual friend. She offered him a small, reassuring smile. "I'll catch up with you at the party once I've checked on him."
James watched her for a moment, his eyes lingering just a second longer than necessary, before he gave a quick nod. "Alright. And, uh, thanks for always looking out for him, Hermione. Remus is lucky to have you."
With that, Hermione made her way through the crowd, her heart still racing from the unexpected collision. As she walked away, she could feel Lily's knowing gaze following her, and when she looked back, Lily gave her a wink, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Hermione rolled her eyes in return, feeling a mix of embarrassment and exasperation at her friend's gentle push—both literal and figurative.
As she exited the pitch, the cheers and laughter fading behind her, Hermione felt her pulse slow. She knew James's heart was still set on Lily, and it was unlikely to change. But in that fleeting moment of shared laughter and awkwardness, she felt a warm sense of connection. It was enough for now, and maybe, in the whirlwind of friendship and small, stolen moments, it would be enough to carry her through.
Hermione climbed the stairs to the boys' dormitory, pushing open the door and spotting Remus half-asleep in his bed, curled up under the blankets. She gently shook his shoulder, her voice soft but upbeat. "Hey, Gryffindor won. Want to head to the Hospital Wing now before the music starts blaring?"
Remus opened one bleary eye and gave her a thumbs-up, too drained to even muster a response. With a weak nod, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and let Hermione guide him, leaning slightly on her as they made their way out of the room.
The corridors were mostly empty, everyone else either still out on the pitch or flooding down to the common room to join the celebration. The silence of the castle felt almost comforting, the only sound the soft echo of their footsteps. As they walked, Hermione's mind drifted back to what had happened after the game. Lily's not-so-subtle shove towards James, the look of mischief in her eyes, and the unexpected closeness with James had all left her feeling more than a little rattled. She wondered if it had been wise to confide in Lily at all.
They finally arrived at the Hospital Wing, and Madam Pomfrey met them with a look of calm understanding, ushering Remus to a bed near the back. He sank onto the mattress with a sigh, his eyes already half-closed. Madam Pomfrey gave him a dose of a calming draught and nodded to Hermione with a grateful smile as she fussed over her favourite patient.
"He'll be alright," Madam Pomfrey murmured, patting Hermione's shoulder. "Nice of you to always look out for him."
Hermione offered a small smile, watching as Remus settled in, the lines of tension in his face slowly relaxing as he drifted off to sleep. Once she was sure he was comfortable, she slipped out of the Hospital Wing and made her way back through the corridors to Gryffindor Tower, already hearing faint strains of music echoing down the stone halls.
As she climbed through the portrait hole, the party was already in full swing. Laughter and cheers filled the common room, and the unmistakable scent of Firewhiskey hung in the air. She spotted Sirius leaning against a table, holding a half-full bottle, his eyes shining with excitement.
"Kitten! There you are!" he called out, his voice carrying over the noise as he made his way over. "Is Moony still upstairs?"
Hermione shook her head, managing to catch his look of genuine disappointment. For all his bluster, Sirius could be surprisingly tender where Remus was concerned.
"Headache," she explained, and he nodded, understanding immediately.
"What would we do without you, Hermione? Herding us all around, keeping us in line?" he asked, a broad, appreciative grin spreading across his face.
Hermione raised an eyebrow, noticing the slight sway in his stance. "Are you drunk already?"
"Maybeee?" he replied, drawing out the word with a laugh as he held up the bottle, then offered it to her. "Fancy a taste?"
Hermione rolled her eyes but took the bottle, sniffing it curiously. "You're going to have half of Gryffindor passed out before midnight at this rate. How did you even get this in here?"
Sirius shrugged, looking far too pleased with himself. "I have my ways. The tunnels aren't just for sneaking out to Hogsmeade, you know."
She took a cautious sip, the warmth of the Firewhiskey spreading through her as she handed the bottle back. Sirius raised it in a mock toast, grinning at her. "To Gryffindor's triumph, and to our resident Mum who keeps us all out of Azkaban."
Hermione snorted, shaking her head. "You're lucky, Black."
"Lucky to have you," he corrected, winking before taking a swig and then slipping an arm around her shoulder as they watched the chaos unfold around them.
Across the room, James was holding court, reliving his moves from the game to a rapt audience of Gryffindors. Hermione felt a small pang, a swirl of feelings too complicated to name, but she pushed it aside. For tonight, it was enough to be here, part of the noise and the laughter, surrounded by friends she would do anything for.
And as the night wore on, she let herself get swept up in the celebration, laughing as Peter spilled butterbeer on himself, cheering as Marlene tried to teach Lily a questionable new dance move, and listening as Sirius—dramatically and with no shortage of exaggeration—recounted the latest round of mischief he had in mind.
In the back of her mind, she held onto the image of Remus, resting peacefully, grateful that he was safe and taken care of, even if he couldn't be here with them.
The last weeks of term and exams passed in a relentless blur, and before Hermione could even process it, she found herself on the Hogwarts Express, rattling down the familiar tracks back to London. The atmosphere was both electric and bittersweet, with students chattering about summer plans and recounting the year's adventures, while the Marauders and Hermione settled into a compartment at the far end of the train.
The June full moon was only two days away, and Hermione could feel a strange rhythm to the months of her school year. It was as if the only days that truly stood out to her were the ones circling around the full moon, each cycle marking a chapter of the year in her mind. She wondered, briefly, if that was really healthy. But then she looked down at Remus, who was stretched out with his head resting in her lap, and felt a quiet sort of peace. Whatever weight she felt, she couldn't imagine how much heavier it must be for him.
Remus was drifting in and out of sleep, the exhaustion of the approaching full moon already setting in, making his usual sharpness look softened and almost serene. He had his arm draped over his eyes, trying to block out the sun streaming through the window. She cast a quick spell to darken the window's tint, hoping it would make him a little more comfortable.
Sirius, sprawled across the bench opposite them, gave an exaggerated sigh and rolled his eyes dramatically. "Unbelievable. All term I've been denied the right to lounge in your lap, and now Moony here is just soaking it up. What did I do wrong?"
Hermione shot him an exasperated look. "The moment you become a werewolf and suffer for four to five days every month, I'll let you lay in my lap, too."
"Don't even joke about that," Remus murmured from under his arm, a faint smile playing at his lips despite his weariness.
James chuckled, leaning against the compartment door with his broom propped beside him. "Good luck with that one," he teased, nudging Sirius. "Besides, I think Hermione's already given you a lifetime of tolerance for your antics this year."
Sirius stuck his tongue out, but his expression softened as he looked at Remus, nodding in silent agreement. As the train clattered down the tracks, the Marauders grew quieter, feeling the weight of the end of term and the looming days of summer stretching out in front of them.
James cleared his throat, breaking the quiet. "You all had better write," he said, glancing meaningfully at each of them, "and I'll see what I can do to get everyone together at the Manor. It'd be good to have everyone there for at least part of the summer, right?"
Sirius grinned, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "If I'm not locked up in my parents' basement," he muttered darkly. His tone was sarcastic, but there was a bitterness in it that didn't escape Hermione's notice.
She winced at his words, the thought of confinement sparking an uncomfortable memory. She thought of Harry—of his cupboard under the stairs, the later the small bedroom with bars on the window and numerous locks on the door. She could almost hear Ron's voice recounting the time he'd had to rescue Harry with the flying Ford Anglia.
Noticing her reaction, Sirius tilted his head, curiosity and concern evident in his gaze. "The Weasleys treat you nicely, right?" he asked, his voice gentler.
Hermione nodded, feeling the warmth of the Weasleys' kindness even in memory. "Yeah, they do. They're… well, they're wonderful, actually." She hesitated, then continued, "I was just remembering a friend of mine. His aunt and uncle used to lock him in a cupboard if they thought he was out of line. Which was most of the time."
James and Peter looked horrified, and Sirius's mouth twisted with disgust. "That's awful," he said, his voice laced with anger. "No one should have to live like that."
Hermione nodded, her voice quiet. "Yeah, it is." She kept her gaze on Remus, who seemed to be dozing again, the mention of confinement thankfully lost on him. She felt a mixture of gratitude and sadness—grateful that she could protect her friends in small ways, but aching for the friend in her memories who had suffered alone.
Sirius reached across the compartment and gave her knee a gentle squeeze, his grey eyes serious. "You've got us now, Kitten. Don't worry. If your friend ever needs a way out, we'll figure something out."
Hermione managed a smile, touched by the fierceness in his voice. She knew Sirius was speaking from his own pain and frustration, and there was a deep sincerity there, born of shared struggles and loyalty.
The train compartment grew quiet again, each of them lost in thought as the countryside rolled past the window. Hermione kept a gentle hand on Remus's shoulder, feeling the rise and fall of his breaths as he rested, knowing that in a day, he'd be in the thick of his monthly ordeal once more. She resolved to keep writing them, to keep them close even during the summer.
And as the familiar haze of London came into view, her heart ached with the thought of leaving them—even temporarily. The Marauders had become more than friends; they'd become family. Whatever awaited her in the future, whatever lay in her path, she knew that she had them to lean on, that somehow they'd make it through together.
As the Hogwarts Express rolled to a halt, Hermione gathered her things, anticipation and nostalgia swirling together as she made her way to the platform. Through the throngs of parents and excited students, she quickly spotted Molly and Arthur standing together with Bill and Charlie, waiting eagerly by the barrier. Hermione couldn't help but smile, her heart warming at the sight of the familiar red-headed family, and a pang of guilt rose as she remembered how she'd missed Christmas with them.
Bill and Charlie looked bigger than she'd expected. Bill, at nearly four and a half, had that unmistakable look of a "big boy," his chin lifted with pride and a wide grin on his freckled face. Little Charlie, now two, was babbling in clearer words, though some were still laced with the endearing, muddled syllables of toddlerhood. For a split second, Hermione worried they might not remember her, but as soon as Bill caught sight of her, he tugged on Charlie's hand and they both came barreling toward her, nearly knocking her off balance.
"Auntie Mione!" Bill declared proudly, his arms wrapping around her legs in a fierce hug, while Charlie grabbed her skirt, babbling eagerly about some adventure with a "chicky" (which Hermione could only guess was an unfortunate chicken at the Burrow).
She bent down to give them both a hug, ruffling Bill's hair and giving Charlie a quick peck on his pudgy cheek. "Goodness, you two have grown so much! What are you eating—growing potions?"
Bill laughed, puffing up with pride. "I'm going to be as tall as Dad soon," he declared. Charlie nodded vigorously, though he didn't fully understand, and mimicked, "Yeah, as tall as Daddy!"
Hermione laughed, pulling back and looking over at Molly, who was beaming. "Molly, Arthur, it's so lovely to see you both!"
Molly enveloped Hermione in a warm hug. "Oh, Hermione, we missed you over Christmas! But it's good to have you back, love. We'll make up for it over the summer."
Hermione's smile faltered slightly as she felt another pang of guilt, but she nodded, grateful for Molly's kindness and warmth. She was about to introduce the Marauders, who had gathered nearby, when she noticed Sirius looking intrigued—and slightly wary—at the idea of meeting her "family."
"Sirius, this is Molly and Arthur Weasley," Hermione said, gesturing. She barely got the introduction out before Bill spotted Sirius, his eyes widening with excitement at the sight of a "real Gryffindor."
"Whoa, you're a Gryffindor too?" Bill asked, eyes wide with admiration as he took in Sirius's confident stance and mischievous grin.
Sirius knelt down to Bill's level, smiling warmly. "That's right! Gryffindor through and through. You'll be there one day too, I bet."
Bill's eyes sparkled, and he turned to Molly as if seeking confirmation. "Can I, Mum?"
"Maybe one day," she said with a chuckle, though her smile grew a bit strained as Walburga Black, Sirius's mother, appeared out of the crowd with a sharp, disapproving look.
"Sirius," Walburga called, her voice clipped. She cast a cool glance at Molly and Arthur before beckoning to her son. "We're leaving. Now."
Sirius rolled his eyes but shot a quick look of reassurance to Hermione. "I'll write, alright?" he said to her quietly before straightening up. "Pleasure to meet you, Mrs Weasley, Mr Weasley," he added, his charm unwavering, though it was clear he was reluctant to go. But one stern look from his mother, and he was gone, whisked away with a final wave.
Peter, too, was there only briefly. He shuffled up to Hermione with a small, shy smile and gave her a quick hello before his own family pulled him away. Remus came over next, his presence warm but subdued, and he gave Hermione a gentle hug.
"I have to get going too," he said, his voice a bit distant. "My dad couldn't make it, so I'm meeting him at home."
Hermione's heart tightened a little, knowing how complicated Remus's life outside Hogwarts could be. "Take care of yourself, Remus. And…write?"
He gave her a soft smile, nodding. "You too. Have a good summer, Hermione."
As he walked away, Hermione turned her attention back to James, who, unsurprisingly, was lingering nearby, looking every bit as though he intended to wait until the very last second. It helped that Molly and Euphemia Potter were standing nearby, engaged in an animated conversation, clearly well-acquainted and enjoying each other's company.
James's gaze flickered over to her, and he flashed her a bright, dazzling smile. "So, you'll come over sometime, right?" he asked, leaning against the luggage trolley with casual ease.
Hermione nodded, though she gave him a cautious smile. "I have to check with Molly, but sure. Just let me know the date, and I'll see if it works."
James's expression brightened even more, his eyes warm with something that looked suspiciously like excitement. "You know you could come over anytime. Not just when the guys are coming," he added, his tone a bit softer, almost as if he were testing her response.
Hermione felt a slight flutter in her chest, uncertain of what to make of the invitation. James was friendly with everyone, and yet there was a sincerity to his voice that made her pulse quicken. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, offering him a small, uncertain smile. "Still, just write to me with the plans, and I'll get back to you."
"Perfect." He grinned, his face lighting up, that smile of his as genuine as it was dazzling. For a fleeting moment, Hermione found herself struck by how different he was from Harry. The resemblance was there, of course, but James's confidence and charisma were bold, vibrant, entirely his own. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing—just different.
With a final wave, he joined his parents, calling back, "Don't forget to write!" as they began to leave the station.
Once he'd gone, Hermione turned to Molly, who was gathering Bill and Charlie. "Come along, boys! Let's get you home and settled in."
Bill grinned up at Hermione, taking her hand, and Charlie babbled excitedly as they made their way through the station. Walking with Molly and Arthur felt like coming home, and as they made their way out of King's Cross, Hermione felt a familiar warmth settle over her. She hadn't expected this kind of life, this connection to a new family, but it was exactly what she needed. Whatever the summer brought, she knew she was exactly where she belonged.