Hermione had never thought of herself as a particularly mischievous person. She'd always been the rule-abider, the one who kept her nose in books and preferred a quiet evening with a well-organised schedule over reckless escapades. Yet there was something undeniably amusing about sneaking out in her Animagus form—a sleek, white ermine with a tuft of black at the tip of her tail—and roaming the grounds of the Burrow undetected.
Under the guise of studying in her room, she slipped out through her window most evenings after dinner, winding her way around the garden and fields with tiny, nimble steps. Bill and Charlie had taken an immediate liking to her Animagus form, delightedly calling her their "secret friend." They didn't know she was Hermione, of course, but the mere idea of a playful ermine who would pop up at the edge of the garden for a bit of fun was more than enough to keep them entertained. Hermione would dart around the garden, occasionally letting the boys "catch" her for a quick stroke before wriggling free, making them laugh with her antics.
At one point, she'd noticed Arthur watching her from the kitchen window, his expression curious. Hermione chuckled inwardly at the thought of Arthur wondering if they'd gained a new familiar, especially since her form—a slender ermine—was closely related to stoats and weasels. The irony wasn't lost on her; the family name "Weasley" itself was derived from weasels, after all.
One evening, as she lounged in a patch of soft grass at the edge of the garden, her thoughts drifted. The ermine form felt right, like an extension of herself she hadn't fully recognised until now, and the kinship with the Weasleys felt like more than just coincidence. She had always known she was technically a Muggleborn—or at least thought she was—but she couldn't shake the idea that magic might run in her bloodline somewhere, dormant until her generation. Magic had to be genetic, didn't it? Perhaps there was a squib ancestor in her family tree, or some distant relation to the magical world that had gone unnoticed.
Her curiosity deepened. Maybe there was a way to look deeper into her family history. If she could cross-reference Muggle records with wizarding genealogies, she might discover some link—proof that magic wasn't just random in her family. It could reveal a squib, a forgotten branch of the magical world reaching back to her own roots. Her heart quickened at the thought of the research this would involve and the answers it might yield.
She was so absorbed in her musings that she almost didn't notice an owl gliding through the dusky sky above her, heading toward the Burrow with practised grace. The sight snapped her out of her thoughts, reminding her that she should probably head back inside before anyone noticed her absence.
Scurrying along the flowerbeds and up the garden path, she darted to her open window, scrambling through just in time. She landed lightly on her feet, transforming back to human form just as the door to her room opened.
"Hermione?" Molly called, peeking her head in. She held a letter in her hand, a warm smile lighting her face. "You've got some mail, dear."
Hermione smoothed her clothes, trying to appear as though she hadn't just been sneaking about. "Thank you, Molly!" She took the letter, her heart lifting as she recognised James's handwriting.
Molly gave her an approving smile. "Looks like your friends miss you already," she teased lightly. "Dinner will be ready in an hour, so don't get too lost in reading, alright?"
Hermione grinned, nodding as Molly left. She settled on her bed and tore open the letter, her heart racing with excitement. James's letters had a way of bringing a bit of the Hogwarts spirit to her summer days, filling her with anticipation and a longing for the adventures they'd continue once school resumed.
Unfolding the parchment, she saw the familiar, slightly messy scrawl of his handwriting:
Hermione,
Hope you're not getting too bored in the countryside! We miss you over here already, and the house is way too quiet without the rest of the guys around. Mum says you're welcome anytime, so let me know when you can come by. I've been practising my Quidditch, and I need someone to keep me on my toes—think you're up for the challenge?
Write back as soon as you can. I'll even promise not to pull any pranks. Well… maybe just one. Or two.
Take care, Kitten.
—James
Hermione smiled as she read the letter, her cheeks warming at the nickname that he, Sirius, and the others had adopted after her Animagus transformation. She could practically hear his voice in her head, that confident, teasing tone he had whenever he wanted to challenge her.
Folding the letter carefully, she placed it in her drawer, resolving to write him back that evening. There was something so simple and warm about his letter, a reminder that her friends were still with her even in the distance. And as she lay back, thinking of James and Hogwarts and all the mysteries still waiting to be uncovered, she felt a contentment that filled the Burrow with a sense of home.
For now, it was enough to be here, to play the mischievous familiar for Bill and Charlie, and to be part of a family that welcomed her without hesitation. Whatever the answers to her own origins, she knew she had a place in the magical world—and that was worth everything.
Dinner at the Burrow was a lively affair, the clinking of cutlery and chatter of young voices filling the cosy kitchen as everyone dug into Molly's delicious cooking. Hermione joined in, but her mind was still buzzing with the letter she'd received from James. As they worked through a hearty stew and fresh bread, she decided to bring it up.
"Sooo…" she began, trying to sound casual as she looked over at Molly and Arthur. "James invited me to Potter Manor. Would it be okay if I went?"
Arthur raised an eyebrow, glancing at Molly, who shared his curious look. "Just you, dear?" he asked, trying to keep his tone light.
"No, the others are supposed to come at some point as well," Hermione explained, her cheeks flushing slightly as she clarified. "It's a bit hard to organise with Remus's… schedule, and Sirius's parents being difficult, you know how it is. Peter lives down the road from the Potters, so I assume he'll be there a lot anyway."
Molly and Arthur exchanged a thoughtful look, one that was familiar to Hermione by now. It was the look they often shared when discussing something important, or when a new parenting dilemma cropped up. Arthur cleared his throat, but Molly was the one who spoke, her voice warm but cautious.
"Hermione," she began gently, "we know we're not your parents, or…" She hesitated, casting a glance at Bill and Charlie, who were eagerly devouring their dinners, seemingly oblivious to the conversation but definitely within earshot. "Well, let's just say we'd prefer you had a bit of supervision."
Hermione felt a prickling warmth at her cheeks, realising the implication. "I really don't think you have anything to worry about on that front," she said quickly, hoping to reassure them. "James's heart is very much set on one Lily Evans."
Molly's eyebrows lifted in surprise, a small smile playing at her lips. "Oh! Well, I suppose that makes things a bit simpler." She looked at Arthur, who shrugged with a faint smile, looking mildly amused. "But just for the day, right?"
"Yes, just for the day. I'll be back by evening."
Molly nodded, seeming to weigh the pros and cons. After a moment, she sighed, a warm smile breaking through. "Alright, then. Just be sure to let us know if anything changes, and don't stay too late, alright?"
"Thank you," Hermione said, trying her best to stay calm, though excitement simmered beneath the surface. She bit her lip to keep from asking if she could be excused immediately to go write James back—it would probably ruin the impression of her calm maturity that she was hoping to maintain.
After dinner, she lingered at the table, waiting until it was polite to slip away. But as she rose, she spotted the familiar Potter family owl still perched patiently on the windowsill, seemingly content to wait as long as necessary. She couldn't help but smile; James was clearly eager for a response.
She took out her stationery and quill, setting down at the kitchen table to draft her reply:
James,
Thanks for the invitation! I've got permission to come over for the day, so if you're up for it, I could Floo over the day after tomorrow in the morning. Just let me know what time suits you.
Looking forward to it,
Hermione
Once finished, she folded the parchment and tied it to the owl's leg, giving it a gentle scratch under its beak before watching it take off into the dusk. A warm thrill of anticipation settled over her as she watched it go, imagining what a day at Potter Manor might hold. The invitation wasn't just exciting for the sake of the visit; it felt like a step toward something more in her friendships, something that tethered her more firmly to the Marauders and to James in particular.
As she turned to head back to her room, she saw Molly watching her with a soft smile, one that was both reassuring and knowing. The Weasleys didn't miss much, but Hermione knew, for all their protectiveness, that they trusted her. And that meant the world.
That same night, an owl swooped in with a response from James. Hermione carefully untied the letter and couldn't help but smile when she saw his familiar handwriting scrawled across the page:
Hermione—
Come over as early as 9 AM. I'll be waiting. Mum's been informed and is expecting you. Looking forward to it.
—James
The eagerness in his tone was unmistakable, and Hermione quickly folded up the letter, feeling her cheeks warm. She wasn't quite ready to unpack what that eagerness might mean, so she pushed those thoughts aside and focused on the practical details. She'd go and enjoy the day—and that was that.
On the agreed morning, she stepped into the fireplace at the Burrow, calling out "Potter Manor!" with a clear, confident voice, and moments later, she stumbled out into the spacious, warmly lit hearth of the Potter family home. Dusting herself off, Hermione barely had time to regain her balance before James appeared, grinning from ear to ear.
"Hermione!" He closed the space between them in two quick strides, pulling her into a tight hug. There was a warmth and ease in his embrace that caught her by surprise, though she relaxed into it, letting herself enjoy the closeness for a brief moment before he pulled back.
"Glad you could make it," he said, his eyes shining with excitement. Without wasting another second, he took her arm, leading her toward the back of the house. They passed through the kitchen, where Euphemia was busy with a pot of tea, and Fleamont sat reading a thick novel. Both looked up with smiles as they entered.
"Lovely to see you, Hermione," Euphemia said, setting down her spoon. "Hope you two have a grand day planned."
Hermione returned the warm greetings, noting how the Potters' welcoming smiles seemed to make their home glow with an understated warmth. But James didn't linger, quickly guiding her toward the back door and out onto a stone path that wound its way through a carefully tended garden, leading toward a vast, wooded area.
"Thought we could do some exploring," he said, his tone laced with excitement.
"Exploring, huh?" Hermione echoed, raising an eyebrow.
"Absolutely. You can't come all the way out here and not see the best parts of Potter Manor. I spent more time getting lost out here than I ever did inside."
The two of them ventured into the woods, the dappled sunlight filtering through the branches as they picked their way through the undergrowth. After a while, they found a small, winding creek that gurgled happily as it wove through the rocks. They settled by the bank, letting their feet dangle over the edge as they talked. Hermione found herself relaxing more and more, the quiet, natural beauty of the woods casting a calming spell over them both.
As they chatted, the topic shifted to Animagus forms, more specifically his speculation on what his could be, and James's face lit up with an idea.
"You know, you could practise your Animagus transformation here if you want," he suggested, his voice inviting.
Hermione needed no further encouragement. She'd come to love her Animagus form, the feeling of freedom and connection to nature that came with it. In an instant, she transformed, her slender ermine body emerging with ease as she wove between his feet, delighted to be in the form once more.
James laughed, kneeling down and scooping her up with gentle hands, settling her around his neck like a scarf, just as he had the first time she'd transformed. He kept a steadying hand on her, ensuring she was secure as he navigated the uneven ground, stepping over roots and rocks.
"Comfy up there, Kitten?" he teased, his voice a mix of humour and warmth as he reached up to pat her softly. "Don't go falling off, now."
Hermione nuzzled her nose against his ear in response, feeling his laughter vibrate through him. She could feel his warmth and hear his steady breath as he strolled through the woods, telling her stories about his childhood and the adventures he'd had in these very trees.
"See that big rock over there?" He pointed with his free hand. "Fell right off of it when I was seven. Mum nearly lost her mind."
He gestured further up the creek. "And that tree—that's where I first tried flying solo. Got about three feet off the ground before I crashed into the branches."
Hermione listened to his tales with fascination, each one weaving together a version of James that was softer, more vulnerable, and completely endearing. At Hogwarts, James often wore the mask of the show-off—the confident, slightly arrogant leader of the Marauders. But here, in the peaceful woods surrounding his home, she was seeing a different side of him. It was James without the bravado, without the need to impress, and she found herself drawn to this version of him all the more.
He continued his tour, pointing out an ancient oak that he and Sirius had once used as a lookout, a clearing where they'd staged imaginary battles, and the small, moss-covered boulders that had served as the "treasure" in countless games. She nudged his ear with her nose, making him laugh again, and he reached up to scratch her chin fondly.
"You know, I think I like you in this form," he said with a grin. "You're quieter, for one," he teased, and she gave a playful nip at his ear in retaliation.
They walked deeper into the woods, with James regaling her with more stories and occasional thoughtful silences that felt comfortable and warm. The sound of birds chirping and leaves rustling filled the gaps, and for once, Hermione allowed herself to simply be in the moment, feeling the pulse of the world around her as they wandered.
After a while, they returned to the creek, where James gently lifted her off his shoulders and placed her down on the bank. She shifted back into human form, stretching her legs and arms as she adjusted, brushing a few stray leaves from her hair.
"Thank you," she said quietly, looking up at him. "For this. It's… peaceful here."
James looked at her, and for a moment, his usually mischievous gaze softened into something more thoughtful. "Anytime," he said, his voice quieter. "It's nice to share it with someone who appreciates it, you know?"
Hermione nodded, feeling a warmth settle in her chest, like she was in on some big secret about James Potter that no one else was.
They made their way back to the house as the sun reached its zenith, casting a golden glow over the garden. When they returned to Potter Manor, Euphemia was waiting for them with a tray of sandwiches and lemonade, and the three of them spent the next hour talking, laughing, and listening to stories of James's childhood escapades.
When it came time for Hermione to leave, James walked her to the fireplace, his expression a mix of regret and warmth.
"Don't be a stranger, alright?" he said, his tone as sincere as his smile was wide.
Hermione grinned, dusting a bit of soot off her robes. "I won't. And thanks again, James. This was… well, it was wonderful."
With one last smile and a wave, she stepped into the Floo and called out "The Burrow," her heart lighter than it had been in a long time. As the green flames enveloped her, she knew that this day would stay with her—a day spent with James in his truest form, free of pretence, in the peaceful woods of Potter Manor.
Hermione sat at her desk, pen in hand as she gathered her thoughts. The days after her visit to Potter Manor had been filled with a quiet, lingering confusion, and she knew that the best way to sort through it was to reach out to her friends. She dipped her quill into the ink and began her first letter:
Dear Remus,
How are you feeling? I know the full moon was not too long ago, and I just wanted to check in. I hope you're resting up and taking it easy.
James has been… well, acting a bit strange lately. Nothing serious, just… different. I suppose it might just be that it's summer, and everyone's in their own element, but he seemed like a whole other person when I saw him recently. It's odd to see him so different from the person we know at school.
Anyway, take care of yourself, and let me know how you're doing.
Warmly,Hermione
Then, she took a new piece of parchment, thinking of what she wanted to say to Sirius. Their conversations had always been light and easy, and she missed hearing from him. Taking a steadying breath, she began her second letter:
Dear Sirius,
How are you surviving the summer? I imagine things at home must be… challenging, but hopefully, you've found a way to get through it all. I just wanted to check in and see how you're doing. It's been a bit quiet without your letters.
Write back when you can—I'd love to hear from you.
Take care,Hermione
Satisfied, she folded the letter carefully and attached both to the Weasleys' owl, watching as it soared off into the sky, hoping that it would reach Remus and Sirius quickly, a silent wish on her mind that Sirius would reply soon. A few days later, an owl returned carrying Remus's response, which Hermione opened eagerly.
Dear Hermione,
Thank you for writing—it's always nice to know someone's thinking of me around these times. I'm feeling alright, all things considered. Madam Pomfrey's potions that she sent home with me are still doing the trick, even though I'll never get used to the taste.
As for James… why do you think he's acting weird? It's not like him to be anything other than James, if you know what I mean. If something's bothering you, though, I'd be glad to hear about it.
Take care,Remus
Hermione found herself smiling at Remus's gentle concern and his steady, thoughtful nature. She took up her quill again and began her reply.
Dear Remus,
I'm glad to hear you're alright, even if those potions are as dreadful as ever. Thanks for checking in on me, too—it means a lot.
It's difficult to explain about James. When I visited him at home, he was… well, he wasn't the same James that we know at Hogwarts. He seemed calmer, kinder, and less—well, less showy. It was as if he didn't have to put on any bravado. I suppose I don't quite know what to do with that side of him. I keep wondering if that's the real James, and if maybe I've only seen a part of him until now.
Anyway, I'm probably overthinking it. Thanks for listening, Remus. I look forward to seeing you soon.
Warmly,Hermione
With the letter sent, Hermione waited, hoping for word from Sirius, but no reply came. Days passed, and though she checked every morning, no owl came bearing Sirius's handwriting. Just as she was beginning to worry, a different owl appeared with a letter from James.
She opened it quickly, her curiosity and hopefulness mounting as she read:
Hermione,
Moony and Peter are coming over in two days. You should join us—Mum already knows and is expecting you. It'll be like old times.
By the way, have you heard from Sirius? He hasn't written me, and it's a bit strange not to hear from him.
See you soon,James
Hermione let out a relieved breath, glad that Remus and Peter would be at Potter Manor as well. It was bound to feel more like Hogwarts with everyone together. She quickly picked up her quill to reply.
Dear James,
Thanks for letting me know—I'll be there. I'm looking forward to it.
And no, I haven't heard from Sirius either. It's a bit concerning, isn't it? I hope he's alright. Please let me know if you get any news from him, and I'll do the same.
See you soon,Hermione
Once the letter was sent, she sat back, her fingers twisting anxiously as she thought of Sirius. She hoped that whatever was keeping him silent would resolve soon and that they'd be reunited with all the Marauders at the Potters' home. But until then, she knew she'd be counting down the days, waiting for any word on her friend.
Before Hermione went to bed, she pulled out a final sheet of parchment, deciding to write Peter a quick note as well. She hadn't written him yet, but knowing they'd see each other soon, she figured a short message would be a nice way to let him know she was looking forward to it.
Dear Peter,
I heard you'll be at the Potters' in a couple of days! Just wanted to say that I'm looking forward to seeing you there and hope you're having a great summer so far.
Take care, and see you soon,Hermione
She folded the letter and attached it to the owl once it returned from delivering James's letter, smiling as she watched it soar into the night. She was finally beginning to feel a sense of ease, knowing she'd soon be with all of them again, if only for a little while.
The morning of her visit to Potter Manor arrived, and Hermione Flooed into the Potter's grand hearth, dusting off her robes and glancing around as the familiar warmth of the Potter home settled over her. Euphemia greeted her with a welcoming smile, drawing her into a quick hug.
"Hermione! It's lovely to have you back, dear," she said warmly. "James and the boys are out in the back garden. They can hardly sit still, waiting for you."
Hermione thanked her and made her way out, her footsteps quickening with anticipation. She stepped into the garden, where Remus and Peter were lounging in the sun near the edge of the lawn, James sitting cross-legged on the ground beside them, a bright grin splitting his face when he spotted her.
"Hermione!" he called, bounding up to meet her. He wrapped her in a brief, enthusiastic hug, pulling her forward to join the group. "You're just in time—we were about to head into the woods."
She greeted Remus and Peter, noting with a pang that the circle felt a little incomplete without Sirius's boisterous presence. She shot a quick, questioning look at James, who seemed to understand.
"No word from Sirius," he murmured, shaking his head. "I wrote again yesterday, but… nothing yet."
Hermione bit her lip, feeling a pang of worry but trying not to let it dampen the day. She settled beside Remus, who was leaning back in the grass, looking more relaxed than he had in her recent letters.
"Feeling alright?" she asked him softly.
He nodded, smiling faintly. "Better, thanks. Easier to bounce back with friends around."
Peter offered her a friendly grin, reaching into his bag and pulling out a few chocolate frogs, which he passed around with a grin. "I was saving these for when we could all be together. Well, mostly all of us," he added, his smile fading a little at the mention of Sirius.
They spent the morning chatting and catching up, laughter filling the warm air as they fell into their usual rhythm. Hermione felt herself relax as the familiar camaraderie took over, the banter and shared jokes easing the tension that had lingered since her last visit.
After a while, James stood up, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "Alright, enough lazing about. I've got something planned for us in the woods. What do you say, up for a little adventure?"
Remus groaned, though there was a hint of a smile on his face. "If this is anything like your last adventure, we're going to end up covered in mud."
Peter laughed. "Or worse, tree sap."
Hermione grinned. "I'm game, as long as I don't end up covered in nettles."
James chuckled, leading the way as they made their way through the wooded path that bordered the edge of the garden. The shade of the trees was cool, the scent of earth and leaves filling the air as they ventured deeper into the grove.
"So, what's the plan, James?" Remus asked, eyeing their friend suspiciously.
James shot him a grin over his shoulder. "You'll see. Just thought it'd be nice to show you all some of the Potter secrets hidden in these woods. Plenty of places to explore without getting caught," he added with a mischievous wink.
Remus rolled his eyes, though he seemed amused. "You're not planning to get us lost out here, are you?"
"Would I do that?" James replied, feigning innocence as he led the way through a winding path. Peter chuckled, nudging Hermione as they trudged along, the trees around them thickening as they moved deeper into the woods.
They soon came upon a small clearing by a creek, a peaceful and secluded spot where the water flowed gently over smooth rocks. The quietness of the place, with sunlight filtering through the leaves, made it feel almost magical.
"Well, here we are," James announced, spreading his arms proudly. "Welcome to one of my favourite spots on the estate."
Hermione took in the beauty of the clearing, noting how it was hidden enough that they could talk freely and joke around without worry. With a quick, subtle glance at James and Peter, she found a quiet corner of the clearing to transform into her Animagus form. She darted through the grass as an ermine, her small, nimble form weaving between rocks and the feet of her friends.
Remus's eyes widened, caught off guard. "What—where did that come from?"
James crouched down to get a better look, playing along. "Looks like we've got a visitor, Moony! Fancy that—a little ermine checking us out."
Hermione skittered over to James and hopped up his arm, her tiny paws gripping his shirt collar as she perched comfortably around his neck. He chuckled, reaching up to keep her steady. "Quite the bold little thing, isn't she?"
Peter laughed, and Remus chuckled, shaking his head as he reached out a finger to let the ermine sniff it. "Friendly little creature. Guess she's used to people."
"Guess so," James agreed, grinning. He casually scratched Hermione's chin, playing up the act as he began pointing out various places in the woods.
"Where's Hermione?" Remus asked suddenly, glancing around the clearing. "She's missing all the fun."
At that, Hermione skittered away, weaving through the underbrush until she was out of sight. She circled around to the other side of the clearing and, once sure she was hidden, transformed back into her human form. With a quick brush of her clothes and a feigned look of excitement, she strolled back toward the group.
"Hey, guys!" she called out, grinning as she spotted them. "You won't believe what I found this way!"
Peter jumped a bit, clearly surprised by her sudden reappearance, and James looked slightly bemused, while Remus just gave her a curious look.
"Really?" James said, raising an eyebrow. "What'd you find?"
"Oh, just a really cool spot near the creek," she replied, motioning for them to follow. She led them a little deeper into the woods, steering them back toward the exact spot she'd already visited with James. She pointed out a couple of boulders, trying to keep her expression neutral as she let James do the talking.
"Oh, this is where we used to make makeshift forts with Sirius when we were twelve," James explained, a fond grin spreading across his face. "We tried every summer, but it always ended up collapsing. No matter how carefully we stacked things up, it all just fell to pieces."
While James animatedly recounted his various fort-building attempts, Remus leaned over to Hermione with a smirk. "You missed quite the show. The ermine was a star attraction."
Hermione rolled her eyes, playing along. "What can I say? Had to tinkle."
Remus wrinkled his nose, chuckling. "Too much information, thanks."
She stuck her tongue out at him playfully, and he shook his head, amused.
James finished his story with a flourish. "Of course, every time the fort came down, we'd claim it was magical creatures trying to reclaim their territory," he added with a grin. "Mum never believed us for a second. Still, best hideout spot in all of Potter Manor's grounds."
Peter looked sceptical, glancing at the boulders. "And it's supposed to keep people out how?"
"Details, details," James laughed, giving Peter a nudge. "You just have to use your imagination."
They spent the next while pretending to build their "fort," stacking stones and leaves, half of them just jokingly tossing things onto the pile to see who could make the most ridiculous addition. James, with his usual flair, tried weaving together branches and twigs in an impressive, if not exactly sturdy, attempt at wall-building, while Peter's "additions" were mostly oversized sticks that fell over within seconds.
By the time they declared the fort complete, it was nearly noon, and James suggested they head back toward the garden. On the way, he nudged Hermione with a mischievous look. "You know, we could sneak out to the garden shed and grab a couple of brooms. You've been avoiding flying since we met, Hermione. I think it's time you give it a try."
Hermione blanched, immediately shaking her head. "No way, James. I'm perfectly fine with my feet on the ground."
"Oh, come on," he cajoled. "It's just a little broom ride! I'll sit behind you so you won't fall. I promise I won't let anything happen to you."
Hermione exchanged a look with Remus, her eyebrows raised as if to say, See? He's being weird. Remus barely stifled a smirk, clearly amused by her silent commentary. James's offer sounded more like he was trying to impress her than a friendly dare, and she wasn't entirely sure what to make of it.
"You'll sit behind me?" she repeated, an eyebrow raised sceptically. "As in, I'll be in control?"
"Exactly!" James said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "I'll just be there in case you need a steady hand."
Peter snorted, trying to mask it as a cough. "That sounds… safe," he managed, exchanging a quick grin with Remus.
James shot Peter a playful glare. "Laugh all you want, Wormtail. Just you wait until Hermione's doing laps around you in the air."
Hermione shook her head, trying to keep from smiling. "I think I'll leave the laps to you, James. I don't want to ruin my first flight by crashing into a tree."
Before much else could come of the discussion, Euphemia's voice called from the house. "Lunch is ready!"
The boys perked up immediately, and Hermione, thankful for the reprieve, followed them back to the garden. James looked slightly disappointed but didn't press her further. They gathered around the long wooden table that Euphemia had set up, a spread of sandwiches, fresh fruit, and iced pumpkin juice waiting for them.
Lunch was lively, with the boys recounting stories of the fort they'd "built" and discussing various pranks they'd planned for the upcoming school year. Hermione found herself slipping comfortably into the easy banter, her earlier confusion pushed to the back of her mind. James's occasional glances and the extra attention still lingered in her thoughts, but for now, she was happy just to be there, surrounded by friends and feeling, for a little while, like everything was just as it should be.
The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm glow over Potter Manor as Hermione bid her goodbyes. It had been a wonderful day, filled with laughter, secrets, and a rare sense of freedom. As she stepped back into the hearth, Euphemia Potter patted her shoulder.
"Come back soon, dear," she said warmly. "You're always welcome here."
Hermione smiled, feeling a pang of gratitude. "Thank you, Mrs Potter. I'd love to."
Peter was leaving as well, heading down the road to his own home, but Remus, to Hermione's surprise, was staying a few nights. James gave her a grin and a wave as she threw Floo powder into the fireplace and called out "The Burrow," and with a flash of green flames, she was gone.
Back at the Burrow, Molly welcomed her with a warm smile, asking about the visit before bustling around with dinner preparations. Hermione spent a quiet evening with the Weasleys, her thoughts drifting back to her friends, especially Sirius, who remained silent and distant. She hoped he was alright and that his summer had just taken him somewhere unreachable, rather than something more concerning.
The next morning dawned brightly, and Hermione was barely up before an owl swooped in, carrying her Hogwarts letter. She opened it eagerly, flipping through the supply list and information for the coming year. There was no Prefect badge, of course—a part of her had wondered, but she quickly pushed the thought aside. After all, the honour in this time period was meant for Lily, and rightly so. She had only been at Hogwarts for a year and had already been swept up in the Marauders' whirlwind. She wasn't exactly the model student Dumbledore would consider for the role.
As she closed her letter, another owl arrived in the afternoon, carrying a note from Remus.
Dear Hermione,
You're not going to believe this, but I've been made Prefect! Clearly, Dumbledore has lost his mind—or maybe he's trying to see if I'll mess it up and have good reason to kick me out.
Take care, and let me know if you hear anything from Sirius.
—Remus
Hermione chuckled, shaking her head in disbelief. Not at the appointment, but Remus's reaction to it. She quickly took out parchment and quill to write back, barely able to contain her pride for her friend.
Dear Remus,
Congratulations! I knew you'd be a fantastic choice—honestly, you were the only possible choice. Just imagine James or Sirius with a Prefect badge! The castle would be in ruins within a week. And, let's be honest, no one was going to consider Peter. I know that sounds harsh, but it's true.
You're the best person for this, Remus. I'm sure of it. And I'm even more sure that Dumbledore is too. Maybe he saw in you what the rest of us see—a kind, loyal friend who knows how to look out for others. You'll do brilliantly, I know it.
Take care of yourself, and I'll see you soon.
Best,Hermione
She folded up the letter, tying it to the waiting owl's leg. She spent the day trying not to think too much about the upcoming school year, focusing instead on helping Molly with the household tasks and playing with Bill and Charlie. But as she helped prepare lunch, her thoughts drifted back to the letters, a sense of bittersweetness in knowing she would never be Prefect this time around, or ever probably since she was stuck here, yet feeling all the pride in the world for Remus.
Later that evening, another letter from Remus arrived. She opened it quickly, his familiar scrawl making her smile.
Dear Hermione,
Thank you for the vote of confidence, but I think the world is doomed if the best choice Dumbledore could come up with is a werewolf. I'm starting to think it's more of a prank on Dumbledore's part!
Honestly, though, I appreciate it. Knowing that you have faith in me makes it feel a little less impossible. Still, I have no idea how I'm going to keep them in line. James and Sirius on their best days can barely keep themselves in line within their own Marauder code, let alone follow any rules I or the school set.
Here's to hoping we all survive the school year!
—Remus
Hermione couldn't help but laugh out loud, imagining Remus trying to keep the Marauders in line as they undoubtedly tried every trick in the book to bend the rules. She sent a quick reply, reassuring him once more, though she knew the real challenges of keeping the boys in check were yet to come.
The owl arrived late one evening, and Hermione eagerly unfolded the letter to see James's familiar scrawl:
Hermione,
How about a trip to Diagon Alley in early August? Remus should be feeling better by then, and Mum suggested we get our school shopping done before it gets too crowded. She's happy to bring you, Remus, and Peter along, if you're up for it!
P.S. I made Quidditch Captain!
—James
Hermione's excitement bubbled up immediately, but she knew she'd need to get Molly's permission first. She found her in the kitchen, tidying up after dinner, and carefully approached the subject.
"Molly, I got a letter from James—he invited me to Diagon Alley with his parents in early August. He said Remus and Peter would be going too. Do you think I could join them for a bit of back-to-school shopping?"
Molly looked thoughtful, tapping her fingers on the countertop as she considered the idea. "Diagon Alley can be a lot to handle, especially with a group of teenagers. And I have Bill and Charlie to look after, too…"
Hermione, anticipating Molly's concerns, quickly added, "I think Mrs Potter meant that she would be happy to just take us. You know so you don't have to worry about two small kids in the mix as well."
A glimmer of relief crossed Molly's face. "Oh. Is she sure? Diagon Alley can be quite busy for a group of teenagers…"
"I can ask her directly if she's up for it," Hermione offered quickly. "She'd only need to mind me, James, Remus, and Peter, and she's managed the boys all before—she'd say if it was too much."
Molly smiled at Hermione's optimism. "Alright, I'll send a letter just to make sure Euphemia is comfortable taking you. We'll see what she says."
Hermione's heart leapt with hope as Molly went to the desk and quickly penned a note, sending it off with a determined look. The next morning, Euphemia's response arrived, and Molly read it aloud, her eyebrow quirking in surprise.
Dear Molly,
Not to worry—I've had plenty of experience with James and his friends; Hermione is welcome, and we're happy to look out for her.
Warm regards,Euphemia
Molly chuckled as she folded the letter, giving Hermione a warm look. "Well, if Euphemia is confident, I suppose you can go. Just stay close to her and be careful."
Hermione beamed. "Thank you, Molly! I promise I'll stick with everyone and keep an eye out."
"Good. Now, go write back and thank her for taking you along," Molly added with a small smile.
Hermione dashed off to send her reply to James, thrilled at the thought of a day in Diagon Alley with her friends, and also a quick congratulatory note for his new position. The countdown to August had officially begun.
On the morning of August 2nd, Hermione arrived at the Leaky Cauldron with a mix of excitement and nerves. As she entered the bustling pub, she spotted James waving her over from a table near the back, where Euphemia, Remus, and Peter were already seated. Euphemia's face lit up as Hermione approached.
"Hermione, dear!" Euphemia greeted her warmly, pulling her into a quick, motherly hug. "It's lovely to have another girl along for shopping—it's usually just me and these rascals."
James pretended to be hurt, placing a hand dramatically over his chest. "Mum, you wound me. Are we not delightful company?"
Euphemia rolled her eyes with a smile. "Oh, you're delightful, James, just not exactly… subtle," she said, giving him an affectionate nudge. James grinned, taking her comment as a compliment.
They set off into Diagon Alley together, their first stop at Madam Malkin's for new robes. Remus needed new ones, as his old ones had grown far too short over the summer, and threadbare at the elbows. Madam Malkin fussed over each of them as she took measurements and examined the fraying edges of hems, clucking her tongue.
While Remus tried on a new set of black robes, Euphemia admired the fit, turning to him with a warm smile. "These look quite smart on you, Remus. I think it's only fair I gift them to you for making Prefect, don't you?"
Remus's face turned bright red as he tried to protest. "Oh, Mrs Potter, you don't have to do that. Really, I… I was going to make do with my old ones."
He never quite got comfortable with calling her by her first name, no matter the years of insistence on James's mum's part.
"Nonsense," Euphemia said, waving a hand dismissively. "It's my pleasure. And congratulations again—you deserve it."
James clapped Remus on the shoulder, grinning. "Mum's right. Can't have a Gryffindor Prefect running around in robes that barely fit."
Remus muttered a flustered thank-you, glancing around as if the whole shop had heard, but there was a hint of pride in his smile. With new robes in hand, they moved on to Quality Quidditch Supplies, where the newest broom model—a sleek Nimbus 1001—was on full display. James's eyes gleamed as he gazed at it, then shot his mum a hopeful look, waggling his eyebrows dramatically.
"James…" Euphemia began, feigning sternness, but it was clear she was softening under his gaze. After a few seconds of his silent pleading, she sighed, laughing. "Alright, fine. I suppose a new broom is fair for the new Quidditch Captain. But don't think I'm getting you another one if you break this before the term is over."
James's triumphant cheer rang through the shop as he practically bounced over to the counter to make the purchase, leaving Hermione grinning at his antics. They made a few more stops for potion ingredients, parchment, and ink before reaching Flourish and Blotts for their school books.
Inside the bookstore, Hermione automatically wandered over to the second-hand section, her eyes scanning for any gently used copies of the texts they needed for the year. She knew that every Knut counted, especially with Molly and Arthur supporting their growing family. But as she rifled through the shelves, she noticed James watching her closely.
Without a word, he nudged his mum, who caught his meaningful look and walked over to Hermione. "Found everything you need?" Euphemia asked kindly, glancing at the used books Hermione was holding.
Hermione flushed slightly, knowing the difference was obvious. "Oh, yes. I'm just… checking to see what's available here first."
Euphemia smiled gently, taking her by the hand and guiding her toward the shelves with new books. "Hermione, a bright witch like you deserves to start fresh. Please, let me get these for you."
"Oh, Mrs Potter, I couldn't possibly—" Hermione stammered, trying to protest, but Euphemia simply handed her a gleaming new copy of Advanced Potion-Making, her tone gentle but insistent.
"I insist," she said with a warm smile. "Think of it as a little thank-you for all the help you give James and his friends. They're lucky to have you around."
Hermione looked to James, who was grinning supportively, and, feeling both grateful and a bit embarrassed, she finally accepted. "Thank you, Mrs Potter," she murmured, clutching the book as if it were a prized possession.
"Please, call me Effie," she replied, giving her a wink as they browsed the rest of the shelves.
As they waited in the check out line, Hermione leaned over to James, muttering, "Your mum is a saint."
He grinned, unfazed. "I know, she's the best. Don't worry about it—it's not like we can't afford it."
Hermione tried to relax, but she couldn't help feeling a touch of embarrassment. In her old life, her parents had run a successful practice, and affording new books had never been an issue. She suddenly understood the mix of pride and discomfort Ron must have felt whenever he was given anything by Harry or his family. Still, Euphemia's kindness was genuine, and Hermione was thankful for it.
They wrapped up the day with ice cream at Fortescue's, each of them savouring the end of summer before another year began. Hermione was quiet as she watched James, Peter and Remus joke and laugh, trying to capture every detail of the warm, bustling street and her friends around her. By the time they finished, the sun was beginning to set, casting a golden light over Diagon Alley.
As they made their way back to the Leaky Cauldron, Euphemia turned to Hermione, her voice gentle. "You're welcome here anytime, dear. James and his friends think the world of you."
Hermione smiled, the warmth of the day lingering. "Thank you. This was… it was wonderful."
And as they all said their goodbyes, Hermione felt a sense of belonging she hadn't expected, knowing that these people—these friends and this family—had made her world a little brighter.
When James's letter arrived a couple of days after the last full moon of the summer, Hermione could practically hear his voice in the words:
Hermione,
Sirius still hasn't written, and if he doesn't come around soon, we're staging an intervention.
On another note, any chance you could convince Molly to let you stay with us for the last week before school? Remus and Peter are already here, and Mum's thrilled to have everyone. Let us know—Mum says it's not a real Marauder summer without you. We'll take you to King's Cross and everything.
—James
Hermione read the letter twice, excitement building as she imagined a week at Potter Manor with her friends before term. She approached Molly cautiously in the kitchen that evening.
"Molly, I got a letter from James," Hermione began, trying to sound casual. "He invited me to stay at Potter Manor for the last week before school starts. Remus and Peter are already there, and Mrs Potter says it's alright."
Molly gave her a knowing smile, though she sighed in mock exasperation. "I suppose you've already packed, haven't you?" she asked, spotting Hermione's trunk by the door.
Hermione nodded, grinning. "I have, yes."
With a small shake of her head, Molly relented. "Very well. Just promise to write if you need anything, and mind Euphemia."
Hermione quickly hugged her in thanks before dashing off to send her reply to James. The next morning, she stepped into the Floo with her trunk, calling out "Potter Manor!" and arrived moments later in the sitting room, where James, Remus, and Peter were already waiting with wide smiles.
But as she took in the room, Hermione noticed Sirius leaning back in an armchair by the fireplace, looking weary and withdrawn. A faint shadow darkened his usual spark, and she guessed that whatever had kept him from seeing them this summer wasn't entirely his choice. She crossed the room without hesitation and wrapped him in a hug from behind, an unspoken reassurance. Sirius seemed momentarily taken aback—physical affection from Hermione was rare for him and usually initiated by Sirius himself—but after a second, he relaxed, his lips lifting into a small, grateful smile.
"Nice to see you too, Kitten," he murmured, his tone lighter. "They finally let me out."
Hermione pulled back, meeting his eyes, where she caught a glimpse of the strain he'd been under. "Glad you're here," she said simply, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
James sauntered over with a grin, slinging an arm around Sirius's shoulders. "Took you long enough, mate. We were ready to send out a search party."
Sirius gave a half-laugh. "Would've been worth it to escape sooner."
Remus chuckled, nudging Sirius. "Better late than never. But don't think this gets you off the hook for all the stories you missed."
With Sirius in better spirits and everyone caught up, Euphemia led them all to lunch in the sunny back garden. Between bites, they chatted about plans for the school year, with James and Sirius already scheming new pranks, while Remus tried to keep them in line. Hermione laughed, rolling her eyes but feeling completely at ease among her friends.
After lunch, they wandered back through the gardens, joking and planning, the worries of the summer fading into the background. By the time the sun began to set, they returned to the manor, where Euphemia laid out the rules for their week.
"Remember, no sneaking past the wards, curfew's before midnight, and if you cause trouble, I'll hear about it," she said with a knowing look.
The boys nodded, though their grins gave away their mischievous intentions. Hermione exchanged a look with Euphemia, who just smiled, her eyes twinkling.
Later, they gathered in the sitting room, sprawled across couches and armchairs, laughing and talking as if nothing else existed beyond those walls. Sirius, still quieter than usual, seemed comforted by the warmth of the company, and Hermione was relieved to see the tension in his face soften as the night wore on.
As they all finally headed to bed, Hermione glanced back at her friends, feeling a wave of gratitude. She didn't know what the new year would bring, but for now, with her friends by her side, she was exactly where she needed to be.
The next morning, James cornered Hermione in the garden, eyes gleaming with determination. "Come on, Hermione, you've got to give flying another go. We got rudely interrupted last time, and I promise, you'll love it!" he insisted, holding out his broom with an encouraging grin.
Hermione crossed her arms, giving him an incredulous look. "James, the last time I'd tried I was twelve, I nearly had a heart attack before I'd even left the ground."
"Which is why I'm offering to sit behind you," James replied, his grin widening. "I won't let you fall. Besides, you don't want to be the only Gryffindor who doesn't fly, do you?"
Sirius, lounging nearby, chuckled, his face lighting up with mischief. "Oh, come on, Kitten, what are you afraid of? It's just a bit of wind in your hair, a nice thrill—perfect way to start the day."
Hermione rolled her eyes, trying to ignore the way her nerves spiked at the thought. "I'm fine, thanks. I don't need to go plummeting from the sky to prove I'm a Gryffindor."
Sirius laughed, giving her an exaggeratedly pitying look. "Look at that, James! We've got a Gryffindor afraid of heights. The horror."
"Don't be an arse, Sirius," Remus said, his tone sharper than usual.
Sirius's grin faltered, the laughter in his eyes dimming. "Yeah, well… guess I'm not really in the mood for flying anyway," he muttered, his shoulders hunching as he sank back into himself, his earlier cheer evaporating.
Hermione exchanged a look with Remus, both of them sharing a silent understanding. Though none of them knew exactly what Sirius had endured over the summer, it was clear that whatever had happened had left a mark. He hadn't spoken about it since arriving, and any attempt to bring it up only led to him shutting down or snapping back. They were walking on eggshells, unsure whether to push or to let him be.
In an attempt to break the tension, James cleared his throat, casting a glance at Sirius before turning back to Hermione. "You know, the offer still stands," he said, attempting a casual smile. "But only if you're ready to face the big, scary broomstick."
Hermione gave a small, grateful laugh. "I'll pass this time, but thanks," she replied, giving James a reassuring pat on the arm. "Maybe next year."
"Or maybe never," Remus said, raising an eyebrow. "I think Hermione's made it pretty clear flying isn't her thing."
They all laughed, even Sirius managing a faint smirk before lapsing back into silence. They tried to keep up the banter as they wandered through the garden, but Sirius's mood remained dim, a cloud lingering over him.
As they meandered back inside, Hermione's heart ached for Sirius, wishing he would just talk to them. But she knew that was unlikely. All they could do, for now, was stand by him and let him come around in his own time.