The week at Potter Manor had been filled with laughter and relaxation, but Hermione couldn't shake her unease about the changes she saw in Sirius. The leather jacket was new, and admittedly, it suited him—adding an edge to his already rebellious demeanour. But it wasn't just the jacket. He'd taken up smoking, sneaking out at odd hours to light a cigarette, his expression veiled and distant whenever he thought no one was watching. There was a reckless, almost defiant air about him now, one that hadn't been there the previous year. Or at least not to this extent. It used to be all in good fun, but now…
It unsettled her, and she'd catch herself glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, wondering what exactly had changed over the summer to draw out this new side of him. Remus and James seemed to share her worry, their eyes following Sirius whenever he slipped out to the edge of the garden or loitered by the back gate with a cigarette.
Still, Sirius had a new passion he seemed eager to share—his latest record collection. He'd brought an assortment of new albums, and more than once, Hermione found herself pulled into conversations about various Muggle bands. Her knowledge of songs and artists wasn't something she'd been particularly open about before (except with Remus), but Sirius had caught her singing along under her breath, and now there was no hiding it. He'd lit up with a grin, dragging her over to the record player and putting on track after track, challenging her to name each one.
It was an unexpected but welcome escape from his darker moods, and she'd often find herself laughing and tapping her foot along to the music as Sirius shared his favourites. She shot an apologetic smile to Remus one afternoon as Sirius pulled her into yet another discussion about rock bands, knowing it was a secret Remus had always enjoyed keeping just between them.
Remus only shrugged, giving her an understanding look. "If it keeps him steady, I don't mind sharing," he said quietly, his eyes flicking over to where Sirius was adjusting the needle on the record with intense concentration.
The music provided a distraction for Sirius, and in these moments, he seemed more like his old self. But as soon as the record finished, that dangerous edge crept back into his gaze, and he'd become withdrawn, a far-off look clouding his expression. They'd tried to ask him about it, but Sirius waved them off, his answers vague and deflective. It was as if he'd built a wall around whatever had happened over the summer, a wall he had no intention of letting anyone break through.
Hermione didn't push him. She had the feeling that Sirius, more than anyone, would need to find his way back to them in his own time. For now, she just listened to the music with him, hoping that, somehow, it provided a tether to keep him close.
September 1st arrived in a whirl of excitement and last-minute packing as the Marauders prepared to return to Hogwarts. After a whirlwind of Floo travel and navigating the bustling platform, they finally reached Platform 9. Hermione, Remus, Sirius, James, and Peter all gathered with Euphemia and Fleamont for quick goodbyes.
Sirius's mood darkened the moment he caught sight of Regulus on the platform, standing stiffly beside their mother and shooting him a blank, almost disdainful look. Sirius clenched his jaw, muttering something under his breath, and the others tactfully steered him away, hurrying to board the train before his anger could ignite further.
Once they found an empty compartment, Sirius threw himself down on one of the seats, stretching out and resting his head in Hermione's lap without so much as a word. Normally, Hermione would have scoffed or nudged him off with a laugh, but today she found herself letting him stay. She felt a pang of sympathy; this restless, defiant side of Sirius wasn't new, but his weariness was more obvious than ever. Her fingers hovered for a moment, then gently settled on his shoulder, offering silent comfort.
Sirius seemed oblivious to the change, his eyes fixed on the passing scenery outside. It didn't escape James or Remus's notice, though—both of them exchanged glances, raising their eyebrows at Hermione, who gave them a small shrug. She didn't know what else to do, but Sirius seemed more relaxed this way, and she didn't want to ruin the moment.
"Right," Remus said quietly after a while, glancing at his watch. "I should be heading off—there's a prefects' meeting I'm supposed to attend."
The corners of Sirius's mouth tugged into a smirk as he looked up from his half-doze. "You've gone full prefect on us, Moony. Soon you'll be lecturing us on curfews and confiscating James's Zonko stash."
Peter snickered, nudging James playfully, but the jab felt slightly off-kilter, almost sharper than usual. James just rolled his eyes, and Hermione could see Remus's jaw tense before he forced a small smile, shrugging it off.
"You'll just have to manage without me for an hour," Remus replied, his voice light but calm as he made his way to the door.
Sirius's smirk faded as soon as Remus left, and he turned his gaze back out the window. Hermione felt a tension settling in the compartment as she absently traced a line along the worn leather of Sirius's jacket. The others stayed quiet, sensing that any attempt to joke or distract him wouldn't reach him in this state.
They all had questions they couldn't ask, things they couldn't quite say aloud, especially now that the weight of the new school year was upon them.
Remus returned just as the trolley rolled up to their compartment, and the Marauders didn't waste a second stocking up on sweets—chocolate frogs, licorice wands, Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, the works. Once armed with their sugary spoils, they sprawled back in their seats, quickly shifting to their usual chatter about plans for the year.
"We need to start strong," James declared, unwrapping a chocolate frog. "Make sure everyone remembers why the Marauders are the ones to beat."
Peter nodded enthusiastically. "What about a prank in the Great Hall at the start-of-term feast? Something with colour-changing charms on everyone's robes?"
"Too tame," Sirius replied, stretching out in his seat, his mood visibly improving with each prank idea. "What we need is something that'll keep them talking for weeks. We could enchant the floor to be like a mirror—give everyone a nice view up their robes, and maybe a little something else." He smirked, clearly picturing the potential chaos.
"Or," Remus suggested, trying to keep his grin in check, "we could do the decent thing, and not do that."
They all laughed, each suggestion growing more ridiculous than the last, and Hermione found herself caught up in the banter, even if she shook her head at some of the more outrageous ideas. Just as James was suggesting a prank involving vanishing staircases, a familiar redhead appeared at the compartment door.
Lily stood there, arms crossed, looking slightly exasperated. "Remus," she said, raising an eyebrow, "we were supposed to start our patrol now. Remember?"
Remus blinked, sitting up straighter, looking sheepish. "Right. Patrol duty. Sorry, Lily, lost track of time."
She rolled her eyes, though there was a faint smile tugging at her lips. "Lost track of time with your troublemaker friends. Of course."
As he stood, Sirius smirked, giving him a mock salute. "Go on, Prefect Lupin. Keep the halls safe for us ne'er-do-wells."
"Don't have too much fun without me," Remus replied dryly, grabbing a liquorice wand before he headed toward the door. He shot an apologetic look to Hermione as he passed, who gave him a reassuring smile.
As soon as the compartment door closed, James leaned back with a grin. "Reckon we could convince him to break a rule or two this year?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "I think he's already broken plenty with you lot. Let him enjoy his prefect badge in peace."
Sirius leaned back, twirling a Bertie Bott's bean between his fingers, his earlier moodiness fading for the time being. "Maybe so, but I give it a month before Moony caves and joins us. The temptation of a perfectly executed prank is too much for any Marauder."
And with that, they resumed planning their most ambitious year yet, the taste of chocolate and sugar blending with laughter and banter as the train sped toward Hogwarts. And somehow no one really noticed that James didn't make some grand declaration to the redhead.
The buzz of anticipation in the Great Hall simmered as the first-years lined up, waiting for their turn with the Sorting Hat. The names were being called one by one—tiny, nervous children stepping forward under the watchful gaze of the entire school. Finally, Professor McGonagall called out a name that sent a jolt through Hermione's entire body.
"Lockhart, Gilderoy!"
Her hands clutched the edge of the bench, and she barely suppressed a groan. Gilderoy Lockhart—here, in his first year, a bright-eyed boy with a shock of blond curls and a dazzlingly confident smile plastered on his face. He strutted to the Sorting Hat with a cockiness that felt painfully familiar.
"What's got you all worked up?" James whispered, leaning over to her, clearly noticing her reaction.
"Nothing—nothing," she muttered quickly, trying to keep her face neutral. But it was hard to mask the mix of dread and exasperation that rose as she watched him sit down, striking a pose even as the Sorting Hat descended over his head. "I just… let's just say I know him," she added cryptically, not wanting to go into detail about her future Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher—and the disaster he'd proven to be.
The seconds ticked by, then a minute, then two. Lockhart seemed to be basking in the attention, waving at a couple of students and blowing a kiss to the Gryffindor table, looking not the least bit perturbed.
"Blimey," James whispered, glancing at Hermione, who looked like she was barely containing a mix of laughter and dread. "Do you think he's holding a silent conversation with the Hat or something? It's been ages."
"Bet the Hat's trying to get him to shut up about his 'future achievements.' Five minutes is practically a record," Hermione muttered under her breath.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the Hat seemed to give in. "RAVENCLAW!"
It hadn't even taken two days for Sirius to find himself in hot water, and this time, the trouble ran deep. Word spread quickly through the Gryffindor common room that he'd been involved in a skirmish in the hallway with his brother, Snape, and a couple of other Slytherins. Whatever had gone down, it was bad enough to dock Gryffindor twenty house points and earn Sirius two weeks of detention. Hermione heard the whispers but had no solid details, only that Sirius seemed angrier than usual, which was saying something.
That evening, she made her way up to the boys' dormitory, intending to check on him. She barely stepped inside when she saw James, sitting on the edge of his bed, hands up in a placating gesture, trying to reason with Sirius, who was pacing the room with clenched fists and a stormy expression.
"You don't get it, James!" Sirius snapped, his voice filled with frustration. "He wants them! And they're all jumping at the chance!"
James sighed, glancing over at Hermione as she entered, looking slightly helpless. Hermione's stomach twisted as she took in Sirius's words, the implication striking her immediately.
"You mean Voldemort," she said, her voice quiet but steady.
Sirius's head whipped around, his eyes flashing with a mix of anger and fear. "Don't say the fucking name!" he hissed, his tone harsh.
Hermione crossed her arms, giving him a look that was both steady and calm. If Harry can say it, so can I, she said in her mind but didn't dare utter out loud. Instead, she softened her expression and nodded, placating him with a gentler tone. "Alright, fine. You-Know-Who. Is that what happened over the summer? He's recruiting your family?"
Sirius's jaw clenched, and he turned his gaze to the floor, running a hand through his hair in agitation. "My insane cousin Bellatrix, to be exact," he muttered bitterly. "She's already hooked on all that 'pureblood superiority' rubbish, calling him the Dark Lord as if he's some kind of messiah. And my parents? They think he's the answer to everything they stand for. I told them they were mad, and they locked me in my room when I told them to go to hell."
James shifted uncomfortably, clearly unsure how to respond, but Hermione stepped closer, her tone softer. "And Regulus?" she asked, already fearing the answer.
Sirius let out a bitter laugh, but it was laced with pain. "Reg? He's following their every word. Strutting around with his little friends, the Death Eater wannabes. He's practically basking in it, eating up every lie they feed him."
Hermione felt a pang in her chest, imagining what it must be like for Sirius to watch his own family fall under Voldemort's sway, to see his younger brother drawn into it. She stepped closer, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder, though he didn't meet her gaze.
"Merlin, it makes me sick," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.
James, looking for any way to lighten the mood, tried for a half-hearted grin. "Well, you're not like them, mate. You're here, with us. They can't touch you here."
Sirius finally met James's gaze, his expression tight. "That's easy to say when it's not your family. You don't know what it's like, James. You don't know what it's like to see your brother pulled into this… this madness, and know there's nothing you can do about it." He glanced away, his voice breaking slightly. "You don't know what it's like to be hated by your own family for thinking… differently."
James's face fell, the truth of Sirius's words striking him hard. He placed a hand on Sirius's other shoulder, his voice low. "Maybe I don't get it, but we've got your back. Always."
Hermione squeezed Sirius's shoulder gently, her heart aching at his vulnerability. "You're not alone in this, Sirius. Whatever your family does, it doesn't define you. You've made your choice, and you're here with people who care about you. That counts for something."
Sirius took a shaky breath, visibly trying to compose himself. He looked from Hermione to James, his expression softening just slightly. "Thanks. I just… I hate that they have Reg. He doesn't understand what he's getting himself into. And I hate that they're pulling him down with them."
Hermione nodded, giving him a small, sad smile. "It's hard to watch someone you care about make dangerous choices. But you're not responsible for their decisions, Sirius. You can only make your own."
Sirius seemed to consider her words, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little. "I know. It's just hard to let it go, you know?" he admitted quietly.
James clapped him on the back with a gentle grin. "Come on, mate, let's get out of here and blow off some steam. I'm sure we can find something in this castle to distract you. Maybe Filch's broom cupboard could use a little enchantment?"
For the first time, a hint of Sirius's usual smirk resurfaced. "Now you're talking, Jamesie," he said, a faint glimmer of mischief returning to his eyes.
Hermione let out a small laugh, relief flooding through her as she saw the darkness lift, even if just a little. As they headed out, she fell in step beside Sirius, resolute in her decision to stand by him as long as he needed, hoping that he'd remember he had his own chosen family, right here at Hogwarts.
Hermione had insisted on keeping her sixteenth birthday low-key, especially with the full moon looming the very next day. She knew Remus would be feeling the weight of it, and all she wanted was a quiet evening with her friends, free of fanfare. After dinner, they retreated to the Gryffindor Tower, settling in their dorm room with a spread of sweets from Honeydukes that the boys had pooled together for her.
Presents were passed around, and Hermione thanked them for each one, the warmth of the moment pushing away the looming tension of tomorrow's full moon. James had gotten her a gorgeous quill, one with a feather so soft it felt like silk. Sirius, never one to do anything halfway, had gifted her a small box of enchanted chocolates that changed flavour every few bites—he seemed especially amused when she discovered the chilli-flavoured one. Remus had somehow found a beautiful, leather-bound edition of Advanced Arithmancy, knowing she'd love it. And Peter had shyly handed her a small box of her favourite ink, the rich indigo she'd once mentioned in passing.
Once they'd laughed through the gifts and the sweets, Hermione cleared her throat, a slightly shy smile on her face as she reached into her bag and pulled out five notebooks, each wrapped neatly in brown paper.
"Alright," she began, holding them out, "I know it's a bit backward, but… I have something for all of you, too."
The boys exchanged confused glances, and Sirius, never one to hold back, took the package with a quirked eyebrow. "Thought birthdays were for the rest of us to spoil you, not the other way around," he teased, unwrapping the notebook and eyeing it warily. "Kitten, you know I'm not really the type to pour my angst into a journal. Or at least if I do, I'd hope no one would ever find out."
She laughed, shaking her head. "It's not exactly for writing down secrets. Well, not those kinds of secrets," she added, catching Sirius's smirk. "The whole mess with the owls over the summer—you being out of reach, or needing to send letters to more than one person and not enough owls to go around—it got me thinking. So, I worked on these the first thing we got back." She pointed to the notebooks, holding up her own to demonstrate.
Each of the notebooks was simple but elegant, with a soft cover and sturdy pages. "I used several layered Protean Charms on each one," she explained, her face lighting up with enthusiasm. "It's like a… magical messaging system. Each notebook has five sections. The first section is for everyone—anything written there will appear in everyone's notebook. But each of the other four sections corresponds to one of you specifically. Anything you write in a specific section will only show up for the person who has that linked notebook. They also light up if there's anything new written in them by someone else."
Sirius looked at her in awe, flipping through the blank pages and testing them out by scribbling a quick "mischief" in the first section. The same word appeared instantly in everyone else's notebook, and their eyes widened in delight.
"This is bloody brilliant," he murmured, an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face.
James let out a low whistle, grinning from ear to ear. "You're a genius, Hermione. Do you know what this means?"
"Less unnecessary wastage of parchment with all the note-passing during classes?" Hermione offered, only half-joking.
"It means," James continued, laughing, "we can plan everything in secret, whenever we need to, without worrying about owl post, or waiting forever for responses during breaks, or risking McGonagall snatching up our notes. And we'll all be able to keep in touch over the summer, even if someone's… made unavailable." He gave Sirius a sidelong look, and Sirius gave a small, grateful smile in return.
Remus, who had been examining the notebook carefully, met Hermione's eyes with a look of deep appreciation. "Hermione, this is… incredible. It's like a magical lifeline."
Hermione felt a warmth spread through her chest, seeing the joy and appreciation in their faces. "I'm glad you like it. Just… try not to use it for plotting too much mischief," she said, though the twinkle in her eye told them she knew better than to believe they'd heed her advice.
Peter beamed at her, looking at his notebook like it was a precious treasure. "Thanks, Hermione. This is… this is amazing."
They each wrote a few more messages, testing the private sections and marvelling as words appeared only in the intended notebook. Sirius, of course, tried to trip up the charm, scrawling random phrases and winking at Hermione each time he saw his private messages to James or Remus appear as intended. Hermione had to bite back a laugh at some of his attempts.
As they settled in, sharing quiet laughs and letting the initial thrill of the notebooks die down, Remus stretched out, resting his head against the headboard, a faint line of tension still visible on his face. Hermione leaned closer to him, nudging his shoulder gently. "How are you holding up?" she asked quietly.
He gave her a small smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Better than usual," he admitted. "Today's been good. Tomorrow, well… we'll see."
She squeezed his hand reassuringly, sharing a look with him that spoke of quiet understanding. For all their laughter and light-hearted pranks, they both knew there was a weight to their friendship, a commitment to being there for each other, no matter the challenges that lay ahead.
"Let's make tomorrow as easy as possible," James piped up, noticing their exchange and speaking for all of them. "We're not letting you go into it alone, Moony."
Sirius nodded firmly, his joking demeanour replaced by a look of quiet determination. "Right. Whatever you need, you've got us."
With a bittersweet smile, Hermione nodded, her hand still in Remus's. The charm in their notebooks was more than just a clever bit of magic; it was a reminder that, no matter what they faced, they'd always have each other.
The full moon day started as a quiet Saturday morning in the Gryffindor Tower, or at least, in Hermione and Remus's corner of it. The rest of the Marauders had woken up early, claiming they had "things to do," though Hermione was fully aware that "things" meant gathering mandrake leaves to restart their Animagus transformation attempt tonight.
Remus, blissfully unaware, was fast asleep beside her on his bed, his head nestled against her shoulder, the weight of him grounding her as she read through her Transfiguration text for next week. She'd been careful not to shift too much, knowing he needed the rest, but the sight of him drooling ever so slightly made her stifle a chuckle. It was a strangely endearing sight, and one that clashed amusingly with the image of her former professor in her mind—the stoic, mysterious Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, looking utterly at peace with the world even if a bit weary.
Just as she was losing herself in the reading again, Remus startled awake with a snore, mumbling, "Sirius," under his breath.
"Sorry to disappoint, love," Hermione smirked, turning a page as she kept her eyes on her book.
Remus blinked, bleary and confused for a moment, before offering a faint smile. "Where is everyone?"
"Out plotting something for sure," she said with a mysterious air, glancing up only to see a slight crease of worry on his face.
Remus sighed, leaning back against the pillows, his expression subdued. "I feel like they've been running off more and more without me," he muttered, glancing down at the prefect badge pinned to his jumper. "This bloody badge…"
Hermione's heart sank, hearing the sadness behind his words. She set the book aside and looked at him intently. "Trust me, they're not leaving you out because you made prefect," she said firmly. "Actually, let me correct that—they're not leaving you out at all."
Remus gave her a doubtful look, though his eyes softened at her reassurance. "How come you didn't go off with them, then?" he asked, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Hermione smirked, pretending to consider. "Well, I'm not exactly their keeper. And between you and me," she added, with a playful glint, "I prefer you drooling on me to their brand of chaos."
Remus's face went scarlet, and he quickly wiped at the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, mumbling, "Sorry about that."
"Nothing to apologise for," she replied, her voice gentle. She could tell he was still weary, despite the nap. "Do you want to go down to the Hospital Wing?"
He glanced toward the clock, yawning slightly. "It's early still. But I should go soon…"
"Stay," she urged, settling back against the cushions, picking up her book again. "I don't mind at all. Besides, I have everything I could want right here." She lifted the book to prove her point, but her soft smile made it clear she meant more than just the reading material.
Remus chuckled and, in a gesture he rarely allowed himself, pulled her close like a teddy bear, nestling against her again. "You are the bestest of friends, Hermione," he murmured, his voice sleepy but grateful.
Just then, the dormitory door burst open, and the boys swaggered back in, fresh from their scheming. Sirius immediately spotted them curled up together on Remus's bed, an eyebrow shooting up with amusement.
"Hey, Moony," Sirius called out, his voice full of mischief, "care for an exchange in cuddle toys?"
Remus groaned, his cheeks turning pink as he ducked his head between Hermione's shoulder and his pillow to hide the blush creeping up his neck. "Shove off, Sirius," he mumbled, though Hermione caught the hint of a grin on his face.
"Think I'll keep him to myself," Hermione replied, giving Sirius a teasing look as she adjusted her book in her lap. "He's a pretty good reading companion when he's not mumbling in his sleep."
James snickered, settling down on the armchair nearby. "Careful, Sirius—you're going to lose your favourite cuddle buddy at this rate."
Sirius rolled his eyes, feigning a look of betrayal. "Moony, you're breaking my heart. I thought I was the only one you drooled on."
"Only in your dreams, Sirius," Remus retorted, lifting his head with a smirk, but trying to cover just how much he actually wanted that. He didn't move from Hermione's side though, the faint blush still lingering.
Peter, sensing the playfulness, tossed Remus a chocolate frog, and soon the tension lifted, the room filling with laughter as they returned to their familiar rhythm. Hermione could feel Remus relaxing beside her, content in their little group, his earlier sadness receding as they joked and talked. It was moments like these—simple, carefree—that reminded her just how much these boys meant to her and how fiercely she wanted to protect them, for as long as she could.