EIGHT
JUNE 23rd, 1995
Hermione and Remus sat in the kitchen in silence. Hermione was crying, face turned away from the wizard next to her. Remus was twirling his wand in his hands, mind whirling. He hoped, he prayed that Dumbledore had a plan. That Dumbledore knew what he was doing. If Sirius died, he would be alone. Again.
Hermione let out a shaky breath and Remus pocketed his wand, reaching over and tugging on Hermione’s arm. She flinched and pulled away from him. Remus scooted away, terrified to touch her again, to be near to her and scare her. Immediately after the act, she turned to him. He was looking down at his hands, one finger tracing a long scar from his forefinger to his wrist. Ashamed.
“Remus, don’t do that, I didn’t mean to, it’s not because-” she reached over and grabbed his hands in hers. His hazel eyes locked with hers and she smiled sadly at him. “I’m not afraid of you. I am just on edge. I promise.” He nodded. “I shouldn’t have told him, Remus. I should have kept quiet.” A new wave of tears filled her eyes. Remus brought one of his hands up to the side of her face, hesitating only for a moment before wiping the tears before they fell too far.
Remus sighed, “No, I think it’s good he knows, Hermione. He will think before he acts. Hopefully,” A small smile played at his lips and he dropped his hand. “Besides, it’s already after ten o'clock. Time for his morning drink anyway.”
“Should I, should we?” she gestured towards the door.
“No, I think we should leave him be for a while. There is a long history with Bellatrix that I’m sure he’s actively trying not to remember. Things he didn’t even tell James and me. The Black’s were very secretive. We didn’t know much about them. Sirius ran away and lived with the Potters right after his 16th birthday. Something happened that Christmas at his house… he never talked about it. But Charlus and Dorea took him in without a second thought.” Remus smiled wider at the thought, “They always had open arms for their son’s werewolf friend.”
“They knew?”
“Oh, yes, James could never keep a secret from his mum.”
“... What happened to them?” Hermione asked.
“Well, they were quite old, actually. So when Mrs Potter contracted Dragon Pox, the cure couldn’t help because it had advanced so rapidly. And Mr Potter refused to leave her side. He died two days after her. It was 3 months after James and Lily’s wedding.”
“That’s so sad. Beautiful. But sad.” Hermione murmured, eyes cast down. She was most likely stuck here in the past, and even in her future, her parents did not know who she was. They would never see her marry. Never even see her again. None of that mattered, though. Not if Harry lived. If everyone lived.
As if he knew, Remus squeezed her hands and said, “It will be okay, Hermione. You came back for a reason, and I’m betting Padfoot and I will do anything to help you get the future you deserve.”
“What happens after, though? How will I stay here? How will we make young Hermione come back and fix everything if it’s not already broken?”
“We will find a way to figure it out, love,” Remus reassured her, running the pad of his thumb across her knuckles. Her eyes filled with tears again and she huffed in frustration, blowing hair from her face.
“I am so frustrated , Remus! I just have so many new thoughts and feelings that I have been shoving down for years and now they’re all coming to the surface at once. I’ve been so alone,” Her voice broke and Remus' hazel eyes flashed momentarily silver at the sound. “Horrible… horrible things happened to us, to me, and I don’t know how to talk about it. Or stop it all from happening again. I can’t… I can’t go through it again. I won’t survive it.”
“I think maybe taking a step back might help. You’ve had a rough few days, Hermione. Give yourself some credit. Flying ten years into the past is no small thing,” He smiled at her, “Now, I won’t deny that you have a big job ahead of you. We all do. But that’s the thing. You’re not alone anymore. You’ve got me. You’ve got Sirius. I know we’re not much but hey, you’ve got us. Soon you’ll have the whole Order backing you, I assume.
“I trust Dumbledore. I trust that he has a plan. Or at least that he will make one now that you’re here. I think we just need to focus on getting Sirius through the next few days and we can talk about the rest of the future afterwards. I’m worried about how he will take Harry going through this.”
“I’m worried too,” Hermione admitted, Remus nodded, sighing. He let go of her hands and rubbed his face. He had not shaved for a few days and there was soot on the bottom of his chin. Hermione reached out without thinking and rubbed at the soot, cleaning his face. Remus tensed at the closeness. There was a familiarity between the two of them that he wasn’t used to having with anyone aside from Sirius. She wasn’t afraid of him. Instead of moving her hand away, she let it sit on the side of his face. It was easy to be close to him. She felt safe, even though society had often told her that werewolves were not. A smile played on her lips as she thought of the beautiful, majestic wolf she had seen some eleven years ago.
Remus cleared his throat and stood, moving away from her and her touch. He couldn’t stop the wolf in him from roaring at the scent of her. She smelled like the Hogwarts library, flowers in the meadow behind his cottage, fresh sheets, and special spell-correction quill ink - the same kind Remus used. He turned away from her, trying to hide the silver he knew was in his eyes. He checked the time.
“Do you want me to help make some food?” Remus rolled up his sleeves.
Hermione paused, “Are you better than Sirius?”
“Loads,” Remus grinned, “Though that isn’t saying much.” Hermione laughed. She caught a glimpse of herself in a grimy mirror and gasped.
“Is that really what my hair looks like?” Her hair was bigger than she’d ever seen. She pulled a hair tie from her pocket and wrapped her hair into a messy bun on the top of her head. Remus laughed at her while she tried to tame the wild curls. “Oi, shut it!” Though she laughed too. “I... I think I should check on Sirius,”
“That might be a good idea. I would take another bottle with you, though.” He gestured to the firewhiskey on the shelves next to the door.
Hermione grabbed a bottle and walked through the door. “I’ll be right back,” Climbing up the stairs she thought about how comfortable she had become with the two men in the house with her. Comfortability came easy when you were forced to spend time together. And easy it was. There was no more denying how much she wanted to be around either of them. How safe Sirius made her feel this morning. Sirius, who was strong and brave and had survived the last twelve years in prison so he could avenge his friends and protect his godson, was worried. About her. He was worried about the dreams she had, and her feeling alone. She assumed it was because he had spent so much time alone himself.
She reached the landing where Sirius’ room was. The door to her’s was still ajar from this morning. Buzzing filled her ears and she knew Sirius had cast ‘ Muffliato ’ to keep her and Remus away.
Hermione muttered, “ Finite ,” and the silence vanished, giving way to a loud crash. She winced and unlocked the door with a wave of her wand. The room was a wreck. Papers were thrown all over the floor. The lamps that lined the walls were all broken. Different trinkets were in shattered piles around the room. Gryffindor banners hung in tatters along the walls. Hermione spotted the empty bottle of Firewhiskey laying amongst the rubble. Sirius waved his wand and everything righted itself, only for him to grab the nearest lamp and throw it across the room once more.
“Sirius?” Hermione whispered, not wanting to take a chance by stepping into the room. He didn’t hear her. Or ignored her as he threw a wooden memento box against the wall. “Sirius, please,” She begged. He turned to grab another item of the shelf. “Padfoot?” At the nickname he stopped, dropping his hands and turning to her. Hermione moved towards him, placing the bottle of Ogden’s Finest down. “Come here,” she opened her arms and pulled him down into them.
“‘Mione-” He choked out, voice cracking.
“It’s okay, love,” She held him tight and finally felt him relax against her, wrapping his arms around her waist. Sirius took huge, heavy breaths, burying his face in her neck. He screwed up his face against the wave of feeling that threatened to overwhelm him. “It’s okay, Sirius. It hasn’t happened yet. We can stop it from happening.” He nodded against her neck and she felt big, hot tears drip onto her skin. “Oh, love, what is it?” He shook his head, nuzzling deeper. She smiled, thinking how dog-like he was at that moment. She continued to stroke his hair with one hand while holding him close with the other.
Hermione heard Remus come into the room, his feet crunching the glass littering the floor. She turned her face to look at him, not letting go of the distraught man in her arms. He was smiling sadly at the two of them. His hazel eyes started to shine with tears as he walked over and pulled on Sirius’ arm. Sirius turned and grabbed Remus roughly, though not letting go of Hermione’s waist. She was pulled into their embrace.
“Pads,” said Remus, gruffly, “Come on,” He awkwardly shuffled the three of them to the bed, where they extracted Sirius, laying him down. His eyes were rimmed red and he held onto Remus’ hand, while his other stayed wrapped around Hermione. He was shaking, much like she did after her nightmare.
“Sirius,” She murmured, smoothing his hair back. She locked eyes with Remus and tears were running freely down his cheeks. He pulled out a small vial and pulled out the stopper.
“Calming Draught,” He said at her raised eyebrows, “Alright, Pads,” Remus held the potion to his lips, “There we go,” as the potion slid down his throat, Sirius’ grip on Hermione loosened and he rolled over in bed. Remus let go of his hand and grabbed Hermione’s, pulling her from the room. Before shutting the door, Remus waved his wand, resetting the room. The unopened firewhiskey soared into his outstretched hand as the door closed softly behind them.
Once back in the kitchen Hermione pulled the firewhiskey from his hand, opening the bottle and pouring them both a glass.
“Does this… does this happen often?” Hermione asked tentatively, taking a sip of the amber liquid.
“Honestly, Hermione, I don’t know. It happened once when he stayed with me right after we’d reunited. On Harry’s birthday.” Remus sighed, his lined face pale and sweaty, “Though it is to be expected. After twelve years in Azkaban, it’s hard to believe he’s not far worse than he is now. People come out of Azkaban far more broken, far more deranged. He’s lucky.”
“Given the circumstances, I suppose so,” she grumbled, angry at the fact that he was even imprisoned in the first place. She was determined to give Sirius his revenge on Peter Pettigrew if it was the last thing she did. It was the least he deserved.
Remus and Hermione passed the afternoon by holing up in the library, reading. Hermione had found an interesting book on ancient Arithmancy. Remus was reading the latest update of Magical Hieroglyphs and Logograms. They had enjoyed hours of silence before there was a soft knock at the entryway of the room. Sirius stood, frowning. He had changed and showered, his hair still damp.
“Sorry about that, Moony. Hermione.” He nodded at both of them and sat in one of the ornate armchairs across from the loveseat Hermione was sprawled on.
“Quite alright, Sirius.”
“S’okay, Pads,” Remus said, turning back to his reading.
Hermione shut her book and sat up, “Do you want to talk-”
“No.”
“But Siri-”
“No, Hermione,” Sirius’ grey eyes were narrowed. Hermione huffed, sparks glittering out of the end of her braid. She rolled her eyes and opened her book again. Sirius stood and tapped the large radio in the corner.
“How do you know if someone's a pureblood? ...Don't worry they'll let you know!” Sirius chuckled at the static sounds coming from the radio, “ This is Cloaked Collar Comedy and we will be right back…”
Hermione knew she should be sleeping. It was 2:07 in the morning. She had woken from a nightmare a few hours ago and hadn’t gone back to sleep. Sleep seemed impossible when the rise of the world’s greatest dark wizard was in less than 24 hours. She had curled up in the big bed, wrapped in Sirius’ large shirt and the fluffy duvet he had transfigured for her. Untangling herself from the blankets, she stood and moved to press her face against the door.
“Sirius?” She whispered. She heard a gasp and someone getting to their feet.
“You alright?” Came Sirius’ voice through the wood. She opened it and reached through the dark for him. He wrapped his arms around her and she held him close. “What’s wrong? Nightmare?” She shook her head and buried her face deeper in his chest. A small smile played on her lips. Home . She startled herself with the thought. She always thought of Hogwarts as home, or the house her parents had owned before the moved to Australia. She had always thought of it as a place, but Sirius had suddenly made it a person.
As Hermione nuzzled into his chest, Sirius had no qualms about burying his face in her mess of curls. They were still slightly damp from her shower hours ago, but they smelled deeply like her. Remus had bought her a shampoo that smelled like mint and honey and, fuck if he knew how, safety. Under that scent was hers though, and Merlin he didn’t think he could ever get enough. Not of the smell. Not of her.
“Stay with me?” She whispered, looking up at him. Their eyes met and he nodded, letting her pull him to the bed. She climbed in, opening the covers to let him crawl in after. They both thought it should be awkward, but it was easy to let their arms wrap around one another in bed. Hermione sighed contentedly into his chest. It rumbled with a small laugh from Sirius, as he pulled his fingers through her wild, albeit untangled, hair.
Hermione thought it must be impossible to have a bad dream when Sirius was here. His cousin’s face would not haunt every one of her sleeping hours if he was next to her.
“I’m scared,” Sirius breathed, almost inaudibly into her ear. She nodded pulling him closer. “I was scared before… but now, knowing what’s coming…. He’s my boy, Hermione.” His breath caught on her name and he sucked in a shaking gasp. “I can’t let James and Lily down.”
“You won’t,” Hermione ran her fingers idly up and down his arm. “I won’t let you.”
“You don’t know that-”
Hermione cut him off, “I do, Sirius. I came back for a reason. I would rather die than let my future unfold,” Sirius held her tighter at the mention of death, shaking his head.
“I won’t let that happen.”
“Good. You don’t let me die. I make sure you don’t fuck up,” Hermione smiled at him and he smiled reluctantly back. “We’re gonna be okay, Sirius. Trust me?”
“I do.”
“Good.”