Chapter 20
Hermione
“How long are you going to keep her in there, Hermione?” Ron asked, nodding his head in the direction of the jar beside her bed.
The three friends were lounging in Hermione’s room. Hermione reclined on her bed, her pink bear bracing her back as a pillow while she wrote in her journal. Harry was seated on the floor, carefully polishing and trimming his broom as Ron, seated at the desk, flipped through a Quidditch magazine. Ron’s attitude with Hermione had improved marginally over the last few days, but became nasty anytime the twins were mentioned. Hermione had begun to agonize over talking about her day with them, torn between her promise to not keep secrets from Harry and keeping the tentative peace with Ron.
Hermione glanced over at the beetle, who was currently standing on her rear tarsal claws, using her antenna and forward claws to feel around the side of the glass. She fluttered her wings, hitting the top of the jar and buzzed, only to repeat the actions. Hermione searched her heart, still finding no remorse for imprisoning the reporter-turned-beetle. Rather she quite felt the punishment fit the crime, Rita had enjoyed being a bug on the wall, after all. She forced herself not to grin at the thought, feeling the boys witnessing her smiling at her captive might be seen as sadistic.
“I dunno, Ron. Maybe when I think she’s learned her lesson.” Hermione shrugged and turned away from the beetle, dismissing her. In truth she had a plan for Rita, perhaps more than one, but now was not the time to share it with Ron. She also wasn’t quite sure how Harry would take it. It wasn’t very nice, she supposed, but sometimes the ends had to justify the means.
“So, what's up with you and my brothers anyway?” Ron asked suddenly, his expression stormy. He glared at the pink bear she was leaning against, as though the stuffed animal had personally insulted him.
“We’re friends.” she said simply, shrugging. Though she tried to keep her face placid she flushed, her mind drifting to sitting on the beach with the twins. It had felt almost like a date, more perfect than any she had daydreamed about a boy taking her one. The only thing that would have made it better would have been ending the night with a kiss- but which boy would she have kissed? Neither, they are your friends you absolute deviant. She scolded herself.
“But why would the twins take you out? They don’t even like you.” Ron said nastily, the tips of his ears turning pink.
“Honestly Ron I hang out with them every day have you not noticed?” Hermione snapped.
“But you’re…you. It’s gotta be a trick, or…they want something. Like maybe for you to, I dunno help them with school. You can’t trust them.” He continued petulantly.
“Ron, I don’t think..” Harry began, but Hermione cut him off.
“Help with school? Like you, Ronald?” She snapped. She closed her journal with a snap and glared at him.
“You know what I mean, Hermione, you- you’re all about books and marks and tests! They hate that stuff, what do you even talk about?”
“Maybe you don’t know them or me as well as you think, Ron.” Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, and looked over to Harry for support. Harry sat clutching his broom, brows furrowed as he looked back and forth between them as though he was trying to work out the problem.
“They’re- corrupting you! Since when do you sneak out at night? Break the rules like that-”
“Hmm, let me think. Just every time you two get some wild idea and I go along to make sure you live through it!
“Yeah well…that’s different.”
“Is it?” Hermione said waspishly.
“Fred and George are…popular and your, well…not very likeable-”
“Gred, my ears are burning!” George exclaimed, walking through her open door without pausing to knock.
“Mine too Forge, I think someone’s chatting about us!”
“Who are we corrupting, Ronnie?” George gave his brother a smile that Hermione thought quite resembled a predator closing in on his prey.
Ron swallowed and his eyes darted from his brothers, to Hermione, to Harry and back. “Er, nothing. No one.” He mumbled.
Fred ambled across the room and dropped down on the bed beside Hermione, crossing his arms behind his head and leaning against her headboard as if he did the same every day. George dropped down on her other side, sandwiching her between the two. He glared at Ron, clearly unwilling to simply let the moment pass.
“Harry and Hermione are your best friends, right Ron?” He said, his tone carefully bland.
“Of course.” Ron snorted, not sensing the danger but rather turning back to his magazine.
“Then tell me, brother.” George sneered the word “Why you think your best friend-”
“Who is brilliant, funny, sweet, incredibly thoughtful-” Fred chimed in.
“Selfless, brave-”
“Not to mention easy on the eyes.” Fred tossed her a wink and Hermione turned her face down quickly. She was already blushing at the casually tossed compliments, and the wink set her cheeks on fire.
“Would be unlikable?” He finished quietly, his tone dark.
“That’s- I didn’t, you’re twisting it!” He stuttered lamley. “Harry, that’s not what I said, was it?” He cast his eyes to his friend on the floor. Harry looked away from him, eyeing the trio on the bed.
“You’re on your own, mate. I don’t see a problem.” He said, and Hermione felt a wave of affection for Harry, defending her at last.
“We were coming to ask you two if you wanted to play two-on in the garden.”
“But suddenly I’m not feeling like spending time with our younger brother, how about you Gred?”
“Same, Forge. I think we should-”
“Teach Hermione to fly instead.”
The spoke so casually, Hermione didn’t catch on for a second. “What, me? Fly?” She said finally, looking back and forth between the twins.
“Of course, Granger. Best way to travel.” Fred said with a smirk.
“I don’t know- I haven’t tried in years.” She hedged.
Ron snorted loudly. “As if Hermione would get on a broom. She’s too scared of heights.” He chuckled.
Hermione’s back went ramrod straight and she glared furiously at Ron. While it was true she had avoided brooms since her disastrous first lesson, it wasn’t heights she was afraid of. Sure, occasionally looking down from the quidditch stands she got a bit queasy but she had no problem with ladders, the astronomy tower, the grand staircase, or planes. The truth was the broom itself had scared her. That first (only) lesson, twelve years old and new to all things magical, she had shot straight into the sky, the broom underneath her thrumming with magic. The broom had felt wild, like it had a life of its own and could throw her at a whim. The thought of it had terrified her, and once she reached the ground she refused to touch it again. The idea of being thirty feet in the air with no way down and a broom that wouldn’t listen stuck in her mind, the anxiety feeding other more ridiculous ideas of terrible things that could happen. The more time that passed the harder the idea of getting back on a broom became. Even as it hurt her pride, the idea that there was a magical skill she could not master, it was equally hard to go to one of her friends and request they teach it to her. So she had let them continue to think what they would. That didn’t mean she was going to sit there and allow Ron to mock her about it, instead it made her want to do it just to wipe that smile off his face.
“Actually, I’ve been dying to learn. That would be lovely.” She said, turning from Ron and giving George a brilliant smile. He whooped loudly, jumping from the bed and grabbing her hand, dragging her along.
“Let’s go!”
Fred
The best plans, in Fred’s opinion, were ones that began as spur of the moment ideas. He delighted in the quick, think on your feet moments that came with them. He different from his twin in this, as George was a forward thinker, always wanting to plan one or two steps ahead. The kept each other grounded, or drug the other along, depending on who was leading that day. Fred thought there was no way he could have schemed better to get Hermione on a broom than to just blindside her with a plan they had made in a split second. He was forward-thinking enough however to daydream about all things he could do with Hermione once she was over her fear of flying. Like, a romantic fly around the Black Lake, maybe ending in a mid-air kiss. Or flying to the forbidden forest for a snog. Or…well they all revolved around snogging, really.
They had found several ancient brooms, in the garden shed and had been itching to try them out. He had made the mistake of asking Sirius if the brooms were from this century, only to be schooled for an hour in “Vintage Brooms” , Sirius insisting they were classics. Fred found himself seated behind Hermione on one such vintage broom, showing her where to place her hands for the best grip.
“This wrist up.” He gently maneuvered her right hand in place, and then guided her left. Fred felt warm tingles shoot through his skin each time he touched her hands. He tried to focus on directing her and not the smooth skin of her neck, bare with her mountain of curls piled high on her head. He pushed aside thoughts of nuzzling into her and breathing in the scent of her skin (She smelled faintly of lavender and rosemary and he wondered if it was shampoo or body wash) Focus! He scolded himself, glancing up to where George was already in the air, making lazy circles above their heads. Hermione followed his gaze and shivered.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got you. I promise I won’t let you fall.” Fred said reassuringly, and Hermione smiled at him over her should.
“You ready?” He asked, returning her grin.
“As I’ll ever be.” She said, taking a deep breath and adjusting her stance slightly. Fred leaned around her, gripping the broom just under her hands. He suppressed the thrill at being pressed up against her back. Not the time! Calm down!
“Alright, kick off when your ready.”
Hermione braced her legs and kicked off, the broom lifting several feet before dipping drunkenly. Hermione cried out and Fred, righted the broom swiftly. They hovered a moment, four feet up as Hermione took great gasping breaths to calm herself.
“Sorry!” She gasped.
“No, that was a good start. You got liftoff, and look, this is you hovering. Don’t doubt yourself, the broom works like your wand. Your will directs it, if you don’t want to leave the ground, you won’t. If your will is split between the ground and the sky, you dip. ” He rubbed her arm soothingly as he spoke.
“Ok…can we try again?” She answered hesitantly.
“Whenever you’re ready.” He said softly.
“You got this Granger!” George called from above, and Fred caught her blush and duck her head slightly. Interesting.
The next attempt went better, Hermione soaring several feet higher before bucking the broom again. The next try she steadied the broom herself when it dipped, and she grinned over her shoulder at him. Fred felt a soaring pride in her, not just conquering her fear but enjoying it. Soon she was working on turns, and after an hour of practice was confidently circling the yard behind George.
They landed for a water break, ready to lounge in the cool shade. As soon as she swung off the broom, Hermione threw her arms around Fred’s neck and hugged him, bouncing up on her toes with excitement. Her hair had half fallen out of it’s bun, her wild somewhat frizzy curls flying in the breeze. He wanted to reach up and brush the curls from her face, out of her sparkling brown eyes, but didn’t even have time to return her hug before she flung away and launched herself at George laughing.
“That was amazing! I flew! I wasn’t even scared!” George laughed with her as Fred struggled for his brain to catch up. He felt absurdly proud, having taught The Hermione Granger something.
“Few more practices and we’ll have you ready for the Quidditch team!” George joked.
Hermione frowned. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
“Hermione, you did great!” Harry called out. “I saw you from my window!”
The three turned to the sound of Harry’s voice. Harry, Ron and Ginny were walking up the garden path, dressed for Quidditch in loose jerseys and shorts, each with a broom over their shoulder.
“Whats going on?” Ron asked
“Guys, I actually flew!” Hermione gushed. “Fred is such a good teacher!”
Fred’s ears turned a bit pink at the praise, and George elbowed him in the ribs, in a friendly sort of way.
“Is that what you call Fred doing all the work?” Ron sneered, glaring at his brother.
“Watch it mate.” Fred growled.
“No, Fred was teaching me, I was in control-” Hermione began, her brows knit together.
“Oh is that what he called it?” Ron said sarcastically, turning his glare on Hermione.
“Ron, what’s gotten in to you?” Harry cried, grabbing his friend’s shoulder and tugging. Ron shrugged him off.
“Really Harry? When he’s got his hands all over her- Hermione, I can’t believe you’d fall for that!” He threw his arms out, dropping his broom.
“Ron, what’s the deal? That’s how Bill and Charlie taught me to fly.” Ginny piped up. “And you.”
“That’s-that’s different!” Ron cried. “This is-it’s- indecent!”
Fred was angry on his own, but he felt George's fury swell inside his chest at Ron's words. Their brother was out of line, and they were ready to put him back in his place.
“Oy!” George shouted, shoving Ron in the chest and making him fall back a step. “Shut your mouth!”
“If you know what’s good for you.” Fred said with a sneer of his own, crossing his arms and looking down (quite literally) at his shorter younger brother.
“Ron, that’s not-” Hermione’s eyes glittered with unshed tears, and her lip trembled. Fred's anger at Ron soared and matched George's intensity. Hermione had been so happy, so proud of herself and then Ron came along and ruined it out of spite or jealousy or whatever nonsense he was on about. He wanted to punch the sneer off of Ron’s face, or hex all his hair to fall out. Something to hurt him for hurting Hermione. He was fed up with the casual cruelty Ron so often used on her.
The standoff was interrupted before it came to shouts or blows when Hedwig fluttered down, landing on Hermione’s arm as she stretched it out for the snowy owl. She took the parchment from Hedwig, praising and stroking her. She took a look at the return address and her whole face changed, splitting into a wide grin.
“I’ve got to go find Sirius, thank you, Fred, George. I’ll see you later! Harry, c’mon!” She said quickly, grabbing Harry’s hand and dragging him along with her. Ron tried to follow and she waved him off, disappearing into the house.
Fred and George stepped closer to Ron, free to handle his brother however he liked now that Hermione was not there to witness (and potentially disapprove).
“Your lucky we don’t pound you into the dirt.” Fred snarled.
“Jealousy is an ugly color on you. Sort it out. “ George said coldly, throwing a first into Ron’s stomach. Their brother bowed around George’s fist and sank to the ground with a wheeze. Ginny rolled her eyes at the exchange and swung a leg over her broom, darting into the sky and leaving the boys to sort it out themselves.
Fred squatted down next to Ron and spoke quietly.
“You can feel however you like about us, Ronniekins. Don’t you dare hurt Hermione again because of it, or you'll truly regret it.” He slapped Ron’s shoulder hard and pushed up off his knees to stand. Without another word, he and he twin walked to the house.
Hermione
Harry and Hermione made way quickly through the house, intent on finding Sirius right away. Soft voices drifted from behind the door to Sirius’s room, and without hesitation Harry pushed the door open, calling out for his godfather, only to be met with a sight that left them speechless. There, in the dimly lit room, Sirius stood locked in a passionate embrace with another man.
Shock and confusion washed over her as she struggled to make sense of what she was seeing. The teens stood frozen in the doorway, unsure of what to do or say. Sirius slowly turned to face them, his eyes filled with a mixture of fear and resignation. Shock morphed into a feeling of a puzzle clicking together when Hermione realized the man with Sirius was Remus. Remus’s tie was undone and his shirt half unbuttoned, looking more disheveled than Hermione could remember seeing him. He was also blushing furiously. She found her voice at once, a terrible hot guilt sweeping over her.
“I’m- we’re sorry. We should have knocked. C’mon Harry.” She grabbed Harry’s elbow and began dragging him backwards.
“Wait, Hermione!” Harry protested, digging his heels in to stop himself.
“You two…you..” He shook his head as if to rearrange his thoughts and make it make sense.
“Harry, Hermione…we were going to tell you.” Sirius said softly, hanging his head as if waiting for a blow. Remus laid his hand gently on Sirius’s back.
“I’ll go, let you all talk.” He said gently, buttoning his shirt as he made a swift retreat from the room.
“Professor, wait.” Hermione touched his arm softly as he tried to pass her. “Did you two think…we’d be mad?”
The two men exchanged a heavy glance.
“We- I didn’t know how you’d feel. This is old but…new.” Sirius said slowly.
“We were together, we were we young. Before…” Remus sighed, sounding tired. “Before your parents were killed.”
“Since we were your age. It was always him. Since Azkaban we’ve been, distant. Coming back slowly, but…he’s the only man I’ve ever loved. My moon.” Sirius spoke softly, his voice gentle and full of poetic devotion. It made Hermione’s heart soar to see them, eyes normally hooded with pain, shining with love and hope.
“My star.” Remus whispered, barley audile.
Sirius cleared his throat and looked away, and though his hair was in his face from her angle Hermione was certain he blushed. Imagine the headlines. “Sirius Black, so called notorious murder blushes like a schoolgirl” Hermione had to hold back from snorting aloud at her ridiculous thought. She just never would have expected to think to Sirius Black, who was, well, rather serious most of the time being cute.
“We didn’t want to say anything until we were sure-” Sirius said.
“Until Sirius was sure he would be truly free.” Lupin said softly.
Harry’s brows knit together as he frowned, staring hard at the two men. Hermione could see the gears turning in his head as he processed the new information. For a moment she worried he would yell, turn on them, demand they call it off, then his face split into a wide grin.
“You two- that’s brilliant!” He grinned at them, Sirius and Remus returning his smile slowly.
“Hermione?” Sirius asked hesitantly.
“Well, I’d like to hear the whole story sometime.” She smiled. “Whatever makes you happy. You two deserve all the happiness after…” She paused, remembering the letter in her hand and the reason they had barged into this room in the first place. “Um, we got a letter just now, we can…come back later? Or you find us.” She turned to leave, and Remus reached out a hand to stop her.
“What letter?”
The air grew heavy with an altogether different sort of tension as Hermione unfurled the letter and began to read.
From the Law offices of
Lawrence and Lawrence
Dear Miss Granger,
I am writing to inform you the necessary paperwork had been filed and accepted, and I will be able to present a case to the Wizgamont as early as next week. As discussed, due to the peculiar details of this case, it is important to make sure this cannot be kept quiet, lest Mr. Black be lost to the system once more. Should you face any legal ramification from coming forward, have your representative contact our office and we will respond immediately. You had mentioned you had a way to ensure his story is told properly, and now is the time to move. My team and I are traveling by international portkey in two days, July 1st. I will contact you once I am in London to discuss next steps, witnesses, and testimony.
Warm Regards,
Anders Lawrence
Lawrence and Lawrence, Attorneys at law.
“This is brilliant, Sirius, you’re almost free!” Harry shouted happily.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Hermione, what did he mean, about my story? What way?” Sirius said, locking his grey eyes on her.
“I’ve an idea about that…but…I’ve done something, and… promise you won’t be mad.”
“There’s no way to promise that without hearing what you’ve done.’ Lupin says, bemused.
“I promise.”Sirius says decidedly. He looked at her with eyes full of trust, as if nothing she could say would shake his faith in her. She dearly hoped taking an unethical reporter hostage was not on his list of unforgivable crimes. She had known this day was coming, and was terrified of losing the potential family they were creating.
Hermione hedged, biting her lip. “ Well, Mr. Lawrence and I thought the real trial would take place in the court of public opinion. It’s vital to gain public support, and for the Ministry to have no chance to sick the dementors on you to prevent your story being told. “
“But how will we get the public on our side?” Remus asked.
“It’s not like the prophet will run the story.” Sirius said wearily, sinking down on the edge of his bed.
“We need to put the story out on our terms, before filing the petition. Control the narrative. If, say, the Daily Prophet put out a story about the unfairness of Sirius’s incarceration, and stressed the miscarriage of justice, and the danger that poses to wizard society as a whole- we don’t just want people to feel bad for you. We want people to be afraid it could happen to them.”
“Ideally, but how would we get the prophet to run a story like that?” Lupin said
“It’s not like I can just give an interview.” Sirius laughed bitterly.
“Wait, why would that make us mad?” Lupin asked.
“Because I have a way to make sure the prophet runs it. I…uh…IhaveRitaSkeeterInaJar.” Hermione rushed out, blending the sentence into one word.
The men gaped at her, and Harry ran an uncomfortable hand through his hair, darting his eyes to the side.
“You, what?” Sirius asked.
“I must have misheard you, repeat that please.” Lupin said
Hermione hung her head, refusing to look at them.
“I…have Rita Skeeter in a jar. Beside my bed. She’s a kind of..tiger beetle I think. ” Hermione stubbornly refused to lift her eyes, unable to face what she was sure would be condemnation from the men before her. Her friends might have accepted her kidnapping-that didn’t mean others would. They’ll think I’m a psychopath. DEAR GODS, am I a serial kidnapper now?! She thought darkly.
Sirius barked out a laugh, and Lupin shot him a stern glare, causing Sirius to choke it back, but his eyes glittered with amusement.
“Hermione, did you tranfigure her into a bug?” Remus asked sternly, quite as if he was scolding a student for passing a note in class.
“No, professor.” She looked up, daring to see the reaction she so feared. It felt safer with Sirius laughing, at least he didn’t seem angry. Harry was still staring at a hole in the carpet as though wishing he could climb in before being asked how long he’d known about this. Sirius was still seated, but sitting up straight, looking at her with a bemused smirk, while Remus stood with his hands on his hips, voice stern but she saw his lip twitch, and his eyes had a unreadable glint.
“She’s an animagus, an illegal one. She’d been crawling around the castle all year, listening to our conversations and gathering dirt for her gossip rag. I caught her in the act.”
“Serves the bitch right!” Sirius said with another peal of laughter.
“Padfoot! We cannot condone this.” Lupin said firmly.
Sirius snorted. “Rita Skeeter is a liar and a manipulative bitch. Has been since we kids, after everything she wrote about the kids last year?” He shifted, leaning forward.
“Now, tell me how having her in a jar helps us.”