The January full moon fell on a Wednesday, and with it came a shift in plans. Moony had to return home to endure the transformation, much to Sirius's reluctance and worry. Hermione also made her way back to the Burrow for a few more days of Weasley chaos, helping Molly with the boisterous boys and little Percy. By the time they all reunited at King's Cross on the morning of the 8th, the lingering traces of holiday cheer mingled with the anticipation of returning to school.

James pulled Hermione aside as they stood on the platform, their trunks loaded and ready for the train ride. His hazel eyes searched hers with quiet concern. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked in a low voice. "I mean… after everything with the diadem. You seemed a bit off before."

Hermione smiled up at him, the expression warm and reassuring. "I'm fine, James. Really," she said, resting her hand lightly on his arm. "No more crazy forgetfulness, I promise. Whatever effects it had seem to be fading now."

He studied her face, still not entirely convinced but willing to let her word stand for now. "If anything feels off, you'll tell me, right?" he pressed, his voice soft but firm.

"I will," she assured him. Then, with a teasing smirk, she added, "But you're going to have to stop worrying about me so much, Potter. People will start to think you're a softie."

James chuckled, his concern giving way to his usual easy confidence. "Can't have that, can we?" he replied, stepping back slightly and gesturing toward the train. "Shall we?"

They entered the train compartment together, rejoining Sirius, Remus, and Peter, who were already lounging across the seats with snacks and a deck of Exploding Snap cards. Sirius looked up from shuffling the deck, raising an eyebrow at them. "Took you two long enough. What, were you exchanging love letters on the platform?"

"Just making sure Hermione didn't forget her wand or something," James quipped, sliding into the seat next to her.

Hermione swatted his arm lightly. "For the record, I have all my belongings, thank you very much."

"Well, that's a relief," Sirius said with an exaggerated sigh. "I'd hate for us to have to turn the train around because our dear Kitten left her toothbrush at the Burrow."

The compartment filled with laughter as the train pulled away, leaving the platform behind. As the countryside blurred past the window, Hermione felt a wave of gratitude for the banter and ease of being back with her friends. The weight of the diadem and all it had revealed was still there, lingering in the back of her mind, but for now, she let herself relax and enjoy the ride.

January somehow slipped by them, the days blending together in the routine of classes, homework, and the chilly gloom of winter. There were no major catastrophes, no sudden revelations—just the usual grind of Hogwarts life. Yet, Hermione couldn't help but notice that something had shifted.

Her mind felt sharper, clearer, even more so than it had before the incident with the diadem. Concepts that once required hours of meticulous study now clicked into place with surprising ease. She found herself answering questions in class before others even raised their hands (okay, that wasn't that new, but she felt like she was even faster with her answers), her essays growing more incisive, her practical spells executed with near-perfect precision. It wasn't lost on her, or anyone else, that she was excelling at a rate that bordered on extraordinary.

During a Charms lesson, Hermione performed an intricate charm on her first attempt, causing the conjured object to dance in midair with flawless grace. Flitwick clapped enthusiastically. "Magnificent work, Miss Prewett! Five points to Gryffindor!"

James, seated beside her, leaned in close as the class applauded. His lips quirked into a mischievous grin, and his voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "You know, it ought to be considered cheating, still having the boost from the diadem."

Hermione shot him a look, half-exasperated, half-amused. "It's not cheating, James," she murmured back, her tone tart but affectionate. "If anything, it's just levelling the playing field."

"Oh, is that what you call it?" James teased, his hazel eyes glinting with mischief. "Because I call it completely unfair to the rest of us mere mortals."

Hermione rolled her eyes, though her lips twitched with the ghost of a smile. "Mere mortals? James, you've been one of the top students in Transfiguration for years."

"Yeah, but I have to work for it," he said, feigning a pout.

Hermione snorted, leaning slightly closer. "I haven't seen you work for it once in the three years I've known you," she teased, her voice dripping with playful scepticism.

James gasped in mock offence, clutching his chest. "How dare you, Kitten! I'll have you know my brilliance doesn't just happen. Behind every perfect spell is hours of meticulous planning and hard graft."

Hermione arched an eyebrow, her tone dry. "Oh, yes, of course. The hours of meticulous planning spent doodling on your parchment during class, and the hard graft of winging it at the last minute."

James leaned in conspiratorially, his grin widening. "It's called strategy, Hermione. Doodles help me think. And winging it? That's just raw talent in action."

"Raw talent," she repeated, biting back a laugh. "You're insufferable."

"And yet you adore me," he quipped, looking far too pleased with himself.

"Unfortunately," she muttered, though the warmth in her eyes betrayed the affection in her words.

Despite the teasing, Hermione found herself feeling a little self-conscious about her newfound abilities. She hadn't shared with James just how much of an impact the diadem seemed to have had, not entirely. The clarity it had granted her was exhilarating but also unnerving, like her brain was running faster than her body could keep up. And while the forgetfulness had mostly faded, she couldn't shake the feeling that the diadem had left its mark in ways she hadn't fully understood yet.

Lily's 17th birthday dawned cold but bright, the kind of winter day that seemed to sparkle despite the chill. Hermione, sitting with James in the Gryffindor common room that morning, drummed her fingers lightly on the edge of a velvet armchair. The watch, elegantly simple and wrapped neatly in gold paper, rested on the small table between them.

"You're sure she'll like it?" Hermione asked, biting her lip as she glanced at James.

"Positive," James replied confidently, leaning back in his chair and tossing a stray quill from hand to hand. "Watches are a big deal, you know that. And you're right—if no one else thought to get her one, she'll probably appreciate it even more."

Hermione sighed softly, her fingers brushing against the edge of the package. "I just… it feels like the right thing to do. Not just because it's tradition. It's… complicated."

James stilled, watching her carefully. "Complicated how?"

Hermione hesitated, her eyes distant for a moment. "Because… if things had gone differently, she would've been Harry's mother. And if I'm here, changing all of this…" She trailed off, not entirely sure how to finish the sentence. "I just feel like I owe her something. A gesture, at least."

James leaned forward, his hazel eyes warm with understanding. "You've got a big heart, Kitten. Lily will love it. And if anyone's deserving of a thoughtful gesture, it's her."

Hermione gave him a small, appreciative smile, her fingers finally leaving the package to rest in her lap. "Thanks for helping me pay for it. You know you didn't have to."

James waved her off with a lopsided grin, twirling the quill in his fingers. "Oh, come on, Hermione. Don't go all sentimental on me now. It's not like you were going to let me buy you anything for Christmas, so consider it me getting back at you. Besides," he added with a teasing smirk, "can't have you walking around thinking I don't know how to spoil my girlfriend and my friends."

"You mean besides the ridiculously expensive dress and the two books you used to bribe me with to even let you buy a dress? Of course not."

James chuckled, leaning forward to nudge her knee with his own. "Exactly. See? I'm excellent at balancing the art of bribery and generosity. You're the only person I know who needs convincing to let someone spoil them a little."

Hermione rolled her eyes but couldn't hide the small smile tugging at her lips. "I just don't see the point in wasting so much on things I don't need. Besides, I let you spoil me with those books, didn't I?"

"Ah, but the dress was the real victory," James said with a wink. "You looked incredible in it, by the way. Worth every Galleon."

Hermione shook her head, pretending to be exasperated, though her cheeks flushed slightly. "You're impossible."

"Impossibly charming, I know," James replied smugly, leaning back in his chair again, his grin widening when she gave him an amused glare.

Sirius strolled over at that moment, catching the tail end of the conversation. "What's this about dress bribery? Is Prongs going soft? Or just making his moves extra fancy these days?"

James tossed the quill at Sirius, who dodged it easily, throwing himself dramatically onto the couch. "Wouldn't you like to know, Pads."

"I really wouldn't," Sirius said with a mock grimace. "But I'll bet Hermione's the only one who can rein in your ridiculous spending habits."

"I try," Hermione said with a sigh, setting the wrapped watch carefully in her lap. "But he's very persistent."

"Persistent is my middle name," James said, puffing out his chest.

"Pretty sure it's Fleamont," Sirius muttered, earning a glare from James and a stifled laugh from Hermione.

"Oh, don't encourage him," James groaned, but his grin betrayed his amusement. "And for the record, Hermione, bribery or not, you deserve all the nice things in the world."

Hermione looked at him, her expression softening. "You're really not as much of a prat as you let on, you know that?"

Sirius snorted. "Don't tell him that, or he'll get a big head. Oh, wait—too late."

"Go away, Sirius," James said, shooing him off with a wave of his hand, but Hermione laughed, the tension in her shoulders easing as she held the watch again.

James caught her gaze, his smile gentler now. "Lily's going to love it. And you're a better friend than you give yourself credit for, Kitten."

Hermione gave him a grateful smile, though Sirius's exaggerated gagging noises quickly ruined the moment.

The day passed quickly, and when the Gryffindors gathered that evening to celebrate Lily's birthday, Hermione approached her with the neatly wrapped gift. Lily, who had been laughing with Marlene over a slice of cake, turned to Hermione with a surprised but genuine smile.

"For me?" Lily asked, accepting the package carefully.

Hermione nodded, a little self-conscious. "It's a tradition in the wizarding world, isn't it? A watch for your 17th birthday. I thought… well, if no one else was going to…"

Lily's expression softened, her emerald eyes shining as she opened the package. The silver watch gleamed inside its box, understated but elegant, with a delicate charm of a lily engraved into the back.

"Hermione," Lily murmured, clearly touched. "It's beautiful. Thank you."

Hermione shrugged lightly, but there was a warmth in her smile. "Happy birthday, Lily."

As Lily leaned in to give her an impulsive hug, Hermione caught James's approving smile from across the room. It wasn't a grand gesture, but in the quiet way Hermione had always excelled at, it had been exactly right.

February brought an air of anticipation to Hogwarts, along with a flurry of sign-up sheets for the upcoming 12-week Apparition course. The announcement had been made during breakfast on the first Monday of the month, and the Great Hall buzzed with excited whispers as Professor McGonagall handed out sign-up slips to those eligible.

Hermione practically beamed at the opportunity as she sat beside James at the Gryffindor table, scanning the fine print on the parchment McGonagall had given her. "This is brilliant," she said, tapping her quill thoughtfully. "We can learn to Apparate without even leaving Hogwarts. And to think we can take the exam here, too."

James glanced at her over his pumpkin juice, smirking. "Easy for you to say. You've got all the reading done already, don't you?"

"I may have skimmed a few books on Apparition," she admitted with a shrug, though there was a glint of amusement in her eyes. "It's fascinating, really—vanishing from one place and reappearing somewhere else. If it's done properly, of course."

"Sounds like you're itching to get splinched," Sirius teased from across the table, leaning back lazily. "Or worse, see someone else get splinched. The entertainment value of this course might be worth the risk."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'd rather avoid that, thanks."

Peter looked nervous, fiddling with the hem of his sleeve. "Twelve weeks doesn't sound like enough time to master something like that," he mumbled. "What if… what if you don't pass the exam?"

"You'll get it, Wormtail," Remus said reassuringly. "It's not like they'd let us take it if they thought it was impossible. Besides, we've got ages to practise."

"I'm just glad I'm turning 17 next month," James chimed in, glancing at the parchment Hermione held. "Means I won't have to trek all the way to the Ministry later. And anyway, I'd like to pop in and out of Hogsmeade at will. Think of the possibilities!"

"You mean the trouble you could get into," Hermione muttered, her lips twitching as James grinned at her unrepentantly.

As the students lined up to hand in their sign-up slips that afternoon, there was an undercurrent of both excitement and nerves. The course would officially begin the following Saturday in the Great Hall, and while Hermione was confident she'd do well, she couldn't help but feel a tiny thrill of apprehension.

Sirius, meanwhile, looked as though he was already plotting mischief. "Imagine this, Prongs," he said in a low voice as they headed to Transfiguration. "Apparate right into the kitchens for a late-night snack, then pop back before anyone notices. House-elves would never rat us out."

"Or," James countered with a wink, "Apparate behind Filch during one of his patrols and scare the life out of him. That's more your style. He'd probably faint."

Hermione, walking just ahead of them, stopped so suddenly that Sirius nearly bumped into her. She turned around with an exasperated look. "You two do realise you can't Apparate inside Hogwarts, right?"

Sirius smirked, not the least bit deterred. "And how do you figure, Kitten?"

"It's in Hogwarts: A History," Hermione said, her tone dripping with the kind of authority that only she could muster. "The wards around the castle prevent Apparition. That's why we're practising in the Great Hall—Professor Dumbledore has to lower the wards specifically for the lessons."

James blinked, his grin faltering slightly. "Wait. You're saying we can't Apparate anywhere in the castle except where and when Dumbledore says?"

"Exactly," Hermione replied, crossing her arms. "It's a well-documented rule. If you'd bothered to read the book, you'd know that."

Sirius sighed dramatically. "And there goes all the fun."

"Not that you two should be thinking of sneaking into kitchens or terrorising Filch with Apparition anyway," she added, fixing them both with a sharp look.

James raised his hands in mock surrender, the grin creeping back onto his face. "Alright, fine. You win, Miss Hogwarts: A History. But don't think you've heard the last of my genius plans. Wards or not, there's always a way."

Sirius chuckled, throwing an arm around James's shoulders as they continued toward the classroom. "The wards won this round, but mark my words, mate—we'll find our loophole. We're Marauders, after all."

Hermione rolled her eyes and muttered, "Honestly, you're impossible," though the faint smile on her face betrayed her amusement.

By the time Saturday rolled around, the Apparition course had become the talk of the castle, with students speculating about what it would feel like and who might end up splinched. For Hermione, though, it was another step toward mastering magic—a challenge she was eager to tackle. For James and Sirius, it was a new way to push boundaries. For Peter, it was a source of quiet anxiety, and for Remus… well, it was just another day of keeping everyone else grounded.

The Great Hall was almost unrecognisable for the first Apparition lesson. The usual long tables had been moved aside, leaving a vast open space in the centre. Small, circular target markers had been set up at intervals along the polished stone floor, each glowing faintly to indicate its magical properties. Students gathered around the edges of the room, buzzing with nervous energy.

Professor McGonagall stood near the front, her presence commanding as always, while a wiry wizard with a sharp nose and a clipped manner introduced himself as Wilkie Twycross, a representative from the Ministry of Magic's Apparition Test Centre.

"Good morning, students," Twycross began, his tone brisk and businesslike. "Apparition, as you are undoubtedly aware, is a precise and advanced form of magic, requiring focus, determination, and—above all—a strong sense of destination."

He paced in front of the gathered students, his robes flapping as he gestured to the glowing targets. "Your goal today is simple: attempt to Apparate from one marker to the next. Remember: Destination. Determination. Deliberation. These three Ds are the cornerstone of successful Apparition. Lose focus, and you risk splinching."

A collective shudder ran through the group. Hermione noticed Peter paling slightly at the mention of splinching, his hands gripping the edge of his robes.

McGonagall stepped forward, her sharp gaze sweeping over the students. "Listen carefully and follow Mr Twycross's instructions to the letter. Recklessness will not be tolerated. This is a serious magical skill, and you must treat it as such."

With that, the lesson began. Students were divided into small groups, each assigned to a target marker. The buzz of chatter died down as everyone focused on the task at hand. Twycross demonstrated a simple Apparition, disappearing from one marker and reappearing seamlessly at another with a soft pop. It looked so effortless that even the most apprehensive students couldn't help but feel a flicker of confidence.

"Your turn," Twycross said, his sharp eyes glinting as he surveyed the group.

James was among the first to step forward, his usual confidence dimmed slightly by the gravity of the task. He squared his shoulders, focused intently on the target marker, and muttered his intent to get there under his breath. A faint ripple of magic stirred the air, but he remained firmly rooted to the spot.

"Close, Mr Potter," Twycross said with a nod. "But you need more focus. Try again."

Nearby, Sirius gave it a go, his expression one of determined concentration. A loud crack rang through the hall, and he stumbled slightly, still standing exactly where he had started. "Well, that was dramatic," he muttered, earning a stifled laugh from James.

Hermione, on the other hand, stood perfectly still, her eyes locked on her marker as she replayed Twycross's instructions in her mind. She visualised herself at the target, willing her magic to obey her command. A soft hum of energy surrounded her, but nothing happened.

Twycross walked past her, nodding in approval. "Good form, Miss Prewett. You're close. Keep at it."

The rest of the lesson continued much the same way, with students making halting attempts, some managing faint magical disturbances, others achieving nothing at all. Peter's first attempt resulted in a loud crack and his left shoe disappearing, much to Sirius's amusement. "Well done, Wormtail," Sirius teased. "You've successfully Apparated footwear."

By the end of the session, the room was filled with sighs of frustration and the occasional laugh. No one had managed to Apparate, though a few students came tantalisingly close.

As the lesson concluded, Twycross addressed the group. "Good effort today, everyone. Apparition is a skill that takes time and practice to master. Remember the three Ds, and you'll get there."

As the students began to filter out, James leaned over to Hermione, a grin tugging at his lips. "Three Ds? More like one big D for disappointment."

Hermione gave him a playful nudge. "Speak for yourself. At least I didn't lose a shoe."

Sirius chimed in, throwing an arm around James's shoulders. "We've got twelve weeks of this. Plenty of time to become Apparition legends—or at least not embarrass ourselves in front of Twycross."

"Speak for yourself," Peter muttered, staring mournfully at his mismatched feet as they exited the hall.

The February full moon passed with the same controlled success as December's, much to everyone's relief. It was still risky, taking Moony out of the Shack, but their careful planning continued to pay off. No accidents, no disasters, and Moony returned to his human self with nothing more than a few scratches and a calmer disposition. The Marauders considered it a victory, even if Hermione's quiet tension hinted that she wasn't entirely convinced the good fortune would last indefinitely.

But the full moon brought more than just the usual covert chaos. A few days later, as Hermione was gathering her books in the dormitory after classes, Lily approached her, a determined look in her vivid green eyes as she took the rare opportunity of being alone in the room.

"Hermione, can I talk to you for a minute?" Lily asked, her voice steady but carrying an edge of curiosity that Hermione couldn't ignore.

"Of course," Hermione replied, though she already felt a flicker of unease. Lily rarely cornered her for conversations unless it was something serious.

Lily crossed her arms, her expression sharp but not unkind. "You disappear every full moon. Without fail. And then there's the way you, James, Sirius, and Peter are all unusually exhausted the next morning. And before you deny it, I've been keeping track."

Hermione's heart sank, though she maintained her composure. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Lily raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Hermione, I'm not an idiot. I've been piecing this together for months. I know about Remus."

Hermione froze, her breath catching. She quickly recovered, setting her jaw. "If you know about Remus, then you should also know it's not my place to discuss anything involving him."

Lily stepped closer, her voice softening but her resolve firm. "I'm not accusing you of anything. I just want to know if… if you're joining him."

Hermione sighed, glancing toward the window where the evening sky was streaked with the first hints of twilight. "Lily… I can't answer that. Not unless you talk to Remus first."

Lily frowned. "Why? If I already know his secret, why does it matter?"

"Because it's his secret," Hermione said gently but firmly. "And if you want to involve me in this, you need to speak with him about what you know. If he's okay with you knowing more, then we can talk. But until then, I'm not at liberty to confirm or deny anything."

Lily studied her for a long moment, her brow furrowed. "You're very protective of him."

"I have good reason to be," Hermione replied. "He's… he's one of the best people I know, and the last thing he needs is someone he trusts feeling betrayed."

Lily nodded slowly, her expression contemplative. "Alright. I'll talk to him."

"Good," Hermione said, her voice softening. "I think you'll be surprised by how much he'll appreciate you knowing."

Lily gave her a small smile, a hint of her curiosity still burning in her gaze. "I just hope he knows how lucky he is to have a friend like you."

With that, Lily left the dormitory, leaving Hermione standing by the window, clutching her books tightly and hoping she'd handled the situation the right way.

The very next morning, Hermione found herself unceremoniously dragged into the boys' dormitory under the pretence of "urgent business." James, Sirius, and Peter stood in various states of dishevelled panic, while Remus sat on the edge of his bed, looking both concerned and resigned.

"What did you tell Lily?" James asked, his hazel eyes sharp as he crossed his arms. "She accosted Remus and he all but ran away to not have to talk about the elephant—eh, werewolf—in the room."

Hermione blinked, setting her books down on Sirius's trunk. "I didn't say anything. She cornered me yesterday, and I told her to take it up with Remus. I made it very clear I wasn't at liberty to discuss anything."

Sirius let out a groan, throwing himself onto his bed dramatically. "You could have warned us, Kitten!"

Hermione raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "And risk you lot overreacting just like this? I didn't think it was necessary."

Remus frowned, his voice quieter than the others'. "What exactly did she say to you?"

Hermione sighed, leaning back against the bedpost. "She mentioned that she's noticed me sneaking out of the dorms every full moon, and that we're all exhausted the next day. She hinted—quite heavily—that she already knows about you."

Peter's eyes widened. "She knows?"

Hermione nodded. "I got the sense that she's known for a while, maybe even since last year after the whole… Snape incident. Or quite possibly even longer, I don't know."

Sirius snorted, still sprawled across his bed. "Great. Just brilliant. And now she's what? Watching us? Keeping notes?"

"Calm down, Pads," James said, though he didn't look entirely calm himself. "She's not going to tell anyone. Right?" His eyes flicked to Hermione for confirmation.

"I don't think she will," Hermione assured them. "But you lot need to give her more credit. Lily's smart. She's been piecing this together for months. And honestly, I think she's more worried than anything."

Remus rubbed the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable. "You told her to come talk to me?"

"Yes," Hermione said firmly. "Because it's your secret, not mine. I wasn't going to confirm anything for her."

James ran a hand through his hair, looking exasperated. "So now what? What if she—"

"She's not going to tell anyone," Hermione cut him off. "If she was, she'd have done it ages ago. And Remus, she's not confronting you because she wants to hurt you. She wants to understand."

Remus looked pensive, his fingers drumming against his knee. "I'll… I'll talk to her."

"You will?" Sirius sat up, eyebrows raised. "Just like that?"

"What else am I supposed to do?" Remus asked, his tone almost weary. "If she knows as much as Hermione says, it's not like I can pretend it's not true. And honestly…" He hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor. "It might be a relief. Not having to tiptoe around her anymore. Trying to get out of prefect patrols near the full moon has been a pain."

James sighed, his tense shoulders relaxing a fraction. "Alright. Fine. But next time," he said, shooting a pointed look at Hermione, "warn us. At least give us a heads-up so we're not blindsided."

Hermione rolled her eyes but smiled faintly. "Noted."

Sirius smirked, his usual mischief returning. "You're lucky we like you, Kitten. Otherwise, we might've had to hex you for almost outing our Moony."

Remus shot him a withering look, but Hermione just shook her head, amused despite herself. "Oh, please. As if any of you could manage a hex against me. Now, are we done panicking?"

"For now," James muttered, though his lips twitched into a reluctant grin. "But we're keeping an eye on Lily."

"You're paranoid," Hermione said lightly, heading for the door.

"And you're entirely too calm!" James called after her, though there was a teasing note in his voice now.

"I'll take that as a compliment," she replied with a wave, leaving them to their fretting.

Later that afternoon, after classes had let out and most of the students were scattered about the castle, James found Hermione tucked into a quiet corner of the library. She was surrounded by books, as usual, but the soft furrow in her brow suggested she wasn't entirely absorbed in her studies. It was a look he'd come to recognise—a mix of focus and distraction.

"Hey," he said, sliding into the chair across from her, casting a quick Muffliato.

She glanced up, immediately catching the slight unease in his expression. "Hey yourself. What's on your mind?"

James rubbed the back of his neck, his hazel eyes flickering to the stacks of books before landing back on her. "I'm completely overreacting, aren't I?"

Hermione tilted her head, giving him a considering look. "About Lily?"

He nodded, leaning forward with his arms braced on the table. "Yeah. I mean… she was my wife in an alternate reality. Surely she knew about Remus or us being Animagi? Kind of hard to keep that secret if you are living together with someone."

Hermione's lips curved into a small, knowing smile. "James, do you really think she wouldn't have figured it out? Even without being your wife? Lily's smart. She probably pieced it together long before she would have become your wife."

James frowned slightly, though there was no real weight to it. "Okay, sure, but… she had the incentive of being my girlfriend-slash-wife to not blab, right? Kind of awkward when your significant other goes to Azkaban."

Hermione rolled her eyes but couldn't hold back a soft laugh. "She was also friends with Remus long before she even became your girlfriend, from what I've seen here. And honestly, Lily isn't the type to put anyone in danger. You know that."

James leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly as he mulled over her words. "You're right," he admitted, though there was still a faint crease between his brows. "I know you're right. It's just… different now, you know? I don't want to assume anything."

Hermione reached across the table, her hand brushing his lightly. "James, Lily doesn't need a title or a role in your life to be loyal to her friends. She already is. That's just who she is."

He looked at her for a moment, his expression softening. "You're always good at putting things in perspective."

She smirked, her fingers retreating back to her side of the table. "It's a gift. Now, are you done overthinking, or should I pull out the books on magical stress management for you?"

James chuckled, shaking his head. "Alright, alright. I'll stop. For now."

"Good," she said with a mock-stern look. "Now go do something productive, like convincing Sirius to stop being dramatic about this whole thing."

"Easier said than done," James muttered, but the grin tugging at the corner of his mouth told her he was already feeling better. He stood, leaning down to press a quick kiss to her temple before heading off. "Thanks, Kitten."

"Anytime, Prongs," she replied, watching him go with a small smile. She felt like his Marauder nickname was appropriate for the situation, even if she rarely called him by it.

Lily Evans joining their little group wasn't exactly unexpected, but it brought a few surprises nonetheless.

After her conversation with Remus earlier in the week—one that Hermione only learned about secondhand—Lily had started gravitating toward their circle more and more. She appeared at their table during meals, joined them in the library under the guise of needing a quiet study environment, and even started claiming a spot in their favourite corner of the common room.

The change, however, was not without its complications.

For one, Sirius had a peculiar way of interacting with Lily that was equal parts teasing and testing. He seemed to enjoy throwing sarcastic barbs her way, gauging her reactions with the precision of someone sizing up a potential ally—or enemy. Lily, to her credit, gave as good as she got, meeting his sarcasm with a wryness that Hermione secretly found impressive. James, on the other hand, alternated between pride that Lily was finally seeing how great his friends were and a faint undercurrent of worry—worry that she might dig too deep, ask the wrong questions, or worse, uncover their secrets.

It was during one such gathering in the common room that everything seemed to come to a head.

It was a lazy Saturday afternoon, and the group was scattered across their usual spots. Remus and Lily sat on the sofa, their heads bent over a particularly complex Charms essay that Lily was helping him with. Hermione was cross-legged on the rug with a thick Arithmancy textbook open in her lap, her brow furrowed as she scribbled notes. James and Sirius were engaged in a predictably loud game of wizard's chess, while Peter sat nearby, munching on a chocolate frog and cheering James on with more enthusiasm than the match warranted.

"Checkmate," Sirius declared smugly, leaning back in his chair with a triumphant grin.

James groaned, flopping back against the cushions. "That's the third time today. You're cheating somehow."

"I don't need to cheat," Sirius said with a mock look of offence. "I'm just that good."

"You're insufferable," James muttered, though there was no real bite in his words. He did scowl at the board though, muttering something about "bloody sneaky knights."

The conversation lulled for a moment, filled only with the soft scratch of quills and the rustle of pages. Then, out of nowhere, Lily looked up and said, "So… when do I get to know the rest of the secrets?"

The room stilled. Hermione froze mid-note, her quill hovering just above the parchment. James's hand paused halfway to the chessboard, and Sirius, who rarely looked genuinely startled, actually blinked at her.

"What secrets?" Sirius asked carefully, his tone half-joking but his eyes sharp.

Hermione, always quick on the uptake, set her quill down and cast a quiet Muffliato around the room. If this conversation was about to happen, it wasn't one for prying ears.

Lily arched an eyebrow at her, clearly impressed but unsurprised. She had known about the spell of course from Severus, it being his invention, shejust didn't think it had spread so widely in the student population. "Clever."

"Don't avoid the question," Sirius cut in, leaning forward in his chair. "What exactly do you think you know, Evans?"

Lily crossed her arms, her green eyes steady. "I know about Remus. We've talked it out. He told me the truth."

Sirius's sharp gaze shifted to Remus, whose shoulders tensed visibly under the weight of the scrutiny. "Did he, now?" Sirius asked, his voice deceptively light.

"I did," Remus muttered, flipping a page in his textbook though it was clear he wasn't reading a word. "It was... inevitable."

"But that's not all, is it?" Lily said, her tone firm. "It doesn't explain why Hermione keeps disappearing from the dorms on full moons too, or why the four of you look like you've been hit by the Knight Bus in every class the next day. And don't try the 'we're sneaking off for innocent midnight strolls during the full moon' spiel because I'm not buying it."

James cleared his throat, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms across his chest. "What exactly are you asking, Lily?"

"I'm asking for the truth," she said simply. "If you don't want to tell me, fine. But at least have the decency to stop pretending you're not up to something."

Sirius scoffed, leaning back in his chair. "The truth? Alright, Evans, here's the truth: we're a group of delinquent overachievers with a knack for trouble and an impressive ability to look exhausted. Satisfied?"

"Sirius," Hermione hissed, throwing him a glare.

"What?!" he shot back, his hands thrown up in mock surrender. "You want me to spell it out for her?"

Hermione sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Look, Lily, what I told you last week still stands. I'm not at liberty to talk about this. If you want answers, they have to come from Remus."

Remus's head shot up, his face a mixture of guilt and irritation. "I've already told her everything about me."

"Clearly not everything," Sirius said dryly, crossing his arms.

"That's because the rest isn't mine to tell," Remus shot back, his tone defensive.

The tension in the room thickened, the air crackling with the unspoken weight of their secrets. For a moment, no one said a word. Then, surprisingly, it was James who broke the silence.

"Alright," he said, leaning forward and fixing Lily with a level look. "Let's assume, hypothetically, that there's more to this than what you already know. Hypothetically, would you keep it to yourself? No matter what?"

Lily didn't hesitate. "If it's not my secret to tell, then yes."

James nodded slowly, considering her response. "Then let's just say that what we do on full moons is... complicated. And dangerous."

"That much I figured," Lily said, her tone softening slightly.

"And it's not just about us," Hermione added, her voice firm. "It's about keeping Remus safe. It's about making sure no one gets hurt. So whatever theories you have, keep them to yourself."

Lily studied Hermione for a long moment, then nodded. "Fine. But if this... whatever it is... puts any of you in danger, I want to know."

"Danger is part of the package," Sirius said with a smirk, though his tone held an edge of sincerity. "But thanks for your concern, Evans."

"Don't push it, Black," Lily shot back, though there was a faint smile on her lips.

James exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "Well, this has been a fun chat. Shall we go back to pretending none of this happened?"

Sirius grinned. "You mean back to beating you at chess? Absolutely."

Lily turned her attention back to Sirius, her smirk softening into a more genuine smile. "Relax. I'm not planning to broadcast your secrets to the whole school. But if I'm going to be hanging around you lot, it'd be nice to know what I'm walking into."

Sirius studied her for a long moment before leaning back in his chair, a small grin tugging at his lips. "Alright, Evans. You passed the first test."

"What test?" Lily asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Not hexing us for keeping secrets," Sirius said with a wink.

James groaned, burying his face in his hands. "This is going to be a disaster."

"So my theory is that you are all Animagi."

The room went completely silent again.

Sirius froze, his grin faltering mid-smirk. Hermione stiffened in her seat, her hands hovering over the table as though pausing mid-action might undo the words Lily had just said. Remus looked down at the book in his lap, lips pressed together in a thin line, while James, ever the spokesperson of the group, let out a strangled laugh.

"Animagi? Us? That's…" He waved his hands in the air as if trying to conjure an appropriate word. "That's ridiculous!"

Lily leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms with an air of satisfaction. "Is it, though? I mean, think about it. Full moons, all of you sneaking off with Remus, and somehow he doesn't hurt himself anymore. You're not just sneaking out to be there for him, you know in spirit. You're sneaking out to help him, physically. That's the only way it makes sense."

"You've been spending too much time with Hermione," Sirius said, recovering his composure and plastering on his trademark smirk. "All this theorising. Very Ravenclaw of you."

"Flattery isn't going to distract me," Lily said coolly. "But thank you for confirming I'm onto something."

"That wasn't a confirmation!" Sirius snapped, leaning forward. "That was deflection!"

"Oh, please," Lily said with a chuckle. "You've been avoiding direct answers this entire conversation. You're not exactly subtle, Black."

James pinched the bridge of his nose. "Can we all take a step back and breathe for a second? Lily, you can't just throw accusations around like that—"

"Accusations?" Lily interrupted, her eyebrow arching in amusement. "Sounds more like I hit the mark."

Remus finally spoke, his tone calm but firm. "Lily, even if that were true, do you realise how dangerous that information could be in the wrong hands? Why would you even want to know?"

Lily's expression softened slightly, but her resolve didn't waver. "I want to know because I care. Because I see the lengths you all go to for each other, and if I'm going to be part of this… this group, I don't want to feel like an outsider. I just want to understand."

Sirius glanced at James, then at Remus, his usual cocky demeanour faltering. "What do you think, Moony?"

Remus sighed, his shoulders slumping. "I think she already knows. At least enough."

James looked between them, running a hand through his hair, visibly torn. "This isn't something we can just… blurt out. There are laws, Lily. Serious ones."

"I'm not asking you to blurt it out," Lily said softly. "I'm asking you to trust me."

The weight of her words settled over the room. Sirius's gaze flicked to Hermione, as if seeking backup, but she merely sighed, her expression contemplative.

"You told her about yourself," Hermione said quietly, looking at Remus. "And she's kept that secret, hasn't she?"

Remus nodded reluctantly. "She has."

"Then maybe…" Hermione hesitated, glancing at James, who was watching her intently. "Maybe she can handle knowing a bit more. But it's not just our decision to make."

James's jaw worked as he mulled over her words. Finally, he let out a defeated sigh, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. Hypothetically, if we were Animagi—which we're not," he added hastily, "it would be to help Remus. And only to help Remus."

Lily's smile was small but triumphant. "Hypothetically, of course."

"Hypothetically, if this ever got out, we'd all be expelled. Or worse," Sirius cut in sharply. "So maybe don't go spreading that theory around, yeah?"

Lily held up her hands in mock surrender. "Your secret's safe with me. Hypothetically."

"Great," James muttered, slumping back in his chair. "This is officially the weirdest group dynamic I've ever been part of."

"Welcome to the club," Hermione said dryly, her lips twitching in amusement.

"Club?" Sirius drawled, his smirk returning. "More like a family. A loud, chaotic, occasionally illegal family."

"Illegal?" Lily asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Hypothetically," Sirius shot back with a grin.

And with that, Lily Evans became a permanent fixture in their lives—bringing her sharp mind, quick wit, and occasional exasperation with the boys into their dynamic. It wasn't always smooth sailing, but it was never boring.