Little Hangleton
July 1977
Small towns were a quintessential part of England, making up the majority of the country despite the actual lack of residents that seemed to live there. Beautiful and quiet, so long as it remained untouched by modernity, which Little Hangleton seemed to have managed quite well.
Built on hills, like most places in the North of England, with small grey stone houses that changed colour in the rain, the local pub in the middle, a few corner shops and small business. It was perfectly picturesque, and no doubt what people imagined when they thought of these places.
Or perhaps it would have been if there wasn't a looming ancient manor, that seemed to have been abandoned longer than she had been alive, on top of the biggest hill and a graveyard practically at it's feet, or the fact that it seemed to have a constant grey cloud above it, making it seem gloomier than the old people that walked around.
Hermione had expected it though...though perhaps she could have prepared herself for the aching calf muscles and the slight panting that came from having to constantly trek upwards and then back down again. Godric's Hollow's one hill had nothing on this place, and honestly she was just glad she had seen fit to put on a jacket.
A splash of a puddle to her left, followed by a small swear word had her turning her head to look at her brother as he shivered slightly, and looked back at her. “Do you think -”
“What’re you staring at?” A thick and raspy Yorkshire accent came from their right, making them stop where they were walking and turn to look at him in confusion. He wasn't old, younger than their parents but he seemed to have the typical older attitude. Even more so when he shook his head and pointed a finger towards them, speaking with a scoff. “Yes, you.”
The urge to say something back was strong, a frown beginning to make it's way to her face as her mouth opened, before it shut as he shuffled forward. Hand wrapped tightly around a walking stick and greying hair sticking out of the flatcap on his head, and the small house behind him that stood at the bottom of the manor, equally as old. Her mouth opened again, this time with a smile as she stepped closer to the wall that separated them. “Are you Frank, the caretaker?”
“What’s it to ya’?”
“Sorry – it’s just that recently my brother and I -” His eyes narrowed as he looked between her and James like he didn’t believe the relation, and while she could understand some confusion, it didn't stop her from taking the defensive and levelling him with a glare. “ - were in the library, reading, and we came across an article about what happened here, and we were hoping to ask some questions.” It was always easier to mix the truth with the lie, especially when facing someone so suspicious.
“Ya’ some sort of journalist of something?” He asked, back straightening as Hermione frowned and looked to James.
“Something like that.” James answered for her with a shrug of his shoulders. His head ducked, as though he expected Frank to say something to him, but the man moved on quickly, not seeming to care or realise.
“Well I already told them everything I know – didn’t make much of a difference.” He grumbled under his breath as he looked towards the main square, shaking his head and banging his walking stick against the floor. “You want gossip – go talk to someone in town.” He moved, as though to turn away before he stopped as Hermione placed both her hands on top of the wall and leaned over it slightly, shaking her head.
“Sorry, Sir, we don’t mean to offend you – it’s just no one was closer to everything than you and we were hoping -”
“And where did that get me other than a station and a whole lot of stigma attached to my name?” Frank snapped, eyes dark and angry as Hermione pulled her hands away and frowned, James’ hand carefully wrapping around the top of her arm like he was prepared to pull her further away if the need called for it.
They didn't know Frank, and he didn't know them, there was no telling what either would do if the situation called for it - but Hermione pulled her arm away from James and stepped closer to the wall again. There was no itch in her head, nothing to rely on, but a twisting in her gut. Frank was hurt, angry and probably many other things - like one would be if they were accused of something they didn't do - but he was loyal, so loyal if he continued to work at the manor, despite the lack of owner and the actual lack of caretaking that seemed to be going on.
She couldn't judge him though for what he had decided to do, and it seemed whatever he was feeling flooded away with a deep breath and tense shoulders. “That night started off like any other, the family in their house, and I didn’t even know anything was wrong until the maid ran through the streets screaming like a mad woman – there was nothing suspicious, nothing to watch out for...except…”
“Except?”
“I thought I saw a boy climbing up the hill, tall, pale with dark hair – for a second I thought it was Tom himself, but thirty years younger – trick of the light perhaps - sometimes the kids come around her to play tricks.” Frank mumbled as he pointed towards the graveyard and then to the garden of the house, he spoke as though he hadn't just dropped a bomb on James and Hermione.
If Tom Riddle, Voldemort, was here the night his father died, then was it not too much to assume that he had been the one to murder his father or be involved in some way. Or that maybe Morfin Gaunt had done it for Tom or the other way around? It seemed as though there were many things missing in the story and not enough answers.
“Did you tell…”
“The police? I sure did, as usual they did nothing with the information and before I knew it, that strange fellow down the road was being arrested by those weird cloaked police – I thought I was out of work until that man bought this place, and that was it.” He shrugged his shoulders and looked back towards the house, for a minute she thought he might start speaking again, but when he looked back at her he was tight lipped and glaring again.
Hermione could have sighed, instead she gave him a nervous smile and leaned forward once again. “The murderer – Morfin Gaunt, where did he live?”
“Hoping to explore his place next?” Frank asked, though he seemed slightly more amused as he raised his walking stick, swaying slightly as he let one hand rest on the wall. “Down the road, near the valley – should be half hidden by the trees they never did anything about.” His stick carved the way in the air, pointing which way to go, and his lips curved up slightly as James mimicked him with a frown.
“Thank you – and one last question, Sir – the rest of the Gaunt family – do you know what happened to them?” Hermione asked almost nervously as Frank’s jaw tensed and he furrowed his eyebrows, as though thinking, all amusement gone.
“Locked up and dead I suppose – the girl though, no one knew what happened to her after she ran off and he came back home alone.” He inclined his head towards the Manor, before he shook his head. “Never asked, nor did I ever put much stock into rumours – it was long before I started working here and none of my business.” There was a twinkling in his eye though, one that told her he knew more than he would ever let on.
For a second she thought about asking him, pestering him until he gave in, but his eyes glazed over and there was almost a sadness to his expression. One that let her know he was done with questions for the day, and so she nodded her head and offered him a small thank you, he mirrored her, another small smile gracing his lips before he turned, hobbling his way back to his house and leaving Hermione and James behind.
…
“I thought he said it was just down the road.” James groaned, hazel eyes scanning every area as they walked in the way Frank had pointed. The rain hadn’t let up, not that it seemed to bother the people they passed, but it did make it difficult to try and see the house through the fine misty of rain.
“A common expression, Jamie.” Hermione commented as she raised her hands over her eyes, the thick trees and what looked like a small building catching her eye. “I think that’s it.”
“That’s barely a house – that’s a shack!”
Hermione cringed in agreement, half hidden among the thick trees was a small mossy house that seemed one strong gust away from turning into rubble. No light seemed to reach it, and the whole ‘garden’ could only be called a nest for the nettles, that half covered the dirty windows.
She stayed at the edge of the property, grimacing as she continued to look around. “It is rather small.”
If only Lily could hear her now, she sounded proper posh – like anything less than her own Manor wasn’t good enough, which was not the case but something about this didn’t sit right with her and it seemed James agreed. “Rather? You’re telling me one of the scared 28 – an elitist pureblood family lived in that?”
The Gaunt’s weren’t a well known family, or they hadn’t been for a long time – all their achievements and note worthy things seemed to have started to die off a hundred years ago as their family slowly dwindled down and out of sight. Their were no Pureblood families marrying into this one, and Hermione could kind of see why.
Why would a Malfoy or Black marry a Gaunt when there was nothing to give or show for it? They had so many people chasing after them and their money, so many ‘worthwhile’ options that even if the Gaunts were still around, they would be nothing more than the laughing stock.
“I don’t think you can call them elite any more, Jamie.” Hermione mumbled as she took a step forward, stopping and frowning as she felt something like a shiver run all over her skin.
Her eyes moved back to the house and her mouth opened to say something when someone else spoke. “What are you two doing?” The voice was thick and Northern, stern in a way that had Hermione stepping backwards and turning to stare at the woman. “Oh – you were the ones speaking to Frank.”
She wasn’t old, younger than their parents, but there were wrinkles on her face and a snide look that made Hermione narrow her eyes. “You know Frank?”
“Known him since I was a young girl, horrible temper that one – you should stay away from him.” The woman bit out as James raised his eyebrows. “Now what are you two doing nosing around a house that isn’t yours?” She added, stern again as Hermione blinked.
“We were wondering about the people that used to live here.” Hermione spoke softly, as the woman narrowed her eyes.
“Southerners – heard our little story and thought you’d come and see for yourselves?” There was a hint of anger in her voice that made Hermione frown once more. What was with the hostility of people in this place?
“Actually, Ma’am, we are from West Country -”
“That’s still South to me.” Hermione supposed it was true and she was well aware of the North and South divide in their country, but she hadn’t expected it to be quite so obvious and rude. “So what did Frank have to say about this place?” She asked, her tone not as harsh but her eyes still cold.
“Just that the person who murdered the Riddle’s used to live here.” Hermione spoke a bit softer, in a way that usually helped soften the people she was speaking too, but this woman didn’t seem to by it as she narrowed her eyes once more.
“So you were just going to walk right in - do you have no manners, young lady?” The woman snapped, rolling her eyes as Hermione opened her mouth to defend herself, only for the older woman to start speaking. “Not sure why you would want to go in there anyway, unless you like dirty houses and dead snakes littered everywhere – used to be nailed to the door...strange family.” The woman mumbled the last part to herself.
“Strange?”
“The son did murder someone – violent and crazy the whole lot of them – used to hiss to each other like some secret language.” The woman spoke again, shaking her head and moving forward. James stiffened beside her and Hermione raised her hand to rub her head.
No one she knew hissed to each other in order to speak, there had only been one person that had been well recorded with the ability to do that and he was long gone, anyone else that could do it were far and few between and not usually the type to show off their talent.
“Ma’am...erm…”
“Names Dot Richards, but I think we will just stick with Mrs Richards.”
“Mrs Richards, on the night of the murder did you happen to see a young boy, tall, pale with dark hair?” Hermione asked, as the woman frowned at her, silent for a moment as she seemed to think back on the night.
“No, I was busy in the pub when that maid came in screaming, I of course knew it was Frank straight away, like I said, horrible temper.” Hermione would have rolled her eyes if she thought she wasn’t going to be scolded.
“I can think of someone else with a horrible temper.” James muttered under his breath as Hermione rubbed her hand over the bottom half of her face to hide her smile. Dot sent him a quick glare, before she turned up her nose and shook her head.
“Anyway, the police came and arrested that Gaunt boy, but I knew they were still suspicious of Frank – we all are.” She spoke as though it was common knowledge, and Hermione couldn’t help but wonder how thirty years later someone could still hold a grudge instead of going along with what the police had ‘known’.
“Did you happen to hear a rumour about the Riddles and Gaunts? In the late 20’s perhaps?” Hermione asked, braving herself as those sharp eyes were back on her and narrowed once more.
“Rumour – there was no rumour about it, girl – I saw it with my own eyes.” Dot snapped. “Tom and that Merope girl ran off together – heard he got her pregnant and so they ran off to get married and moved to London, away from the judgement of this place – people can be so judgemental.” Dot added, clicking her tongue as Hermione nodded her head in agreement.
“So they were in love?” James asked with a frown as Dot let out a scoff and a chuckle.
“People didn’t marry for love then, boy, not like you kids these days doing every sin under the sun.” Dot commented, turning her nose up at them again. “And I doubt he could have loved her, ugly as she was –and with her family attacking him like they did.” Hermione opened her mouth to ask but Dot continued speaking. “I imagine he saw an easy opportunity with a girl who was head over heels for him, her family locked away, and did what any rich man does and took it for himself.”
Not a pretty picture to paint, Hermione had no idea what the Gaunts had looked like, hard to imagine when Tom had looked like he did, and according to Frank he was the spitting image of his father – but it seemed there was no love lost in the village between the people and the Riddles if the glaring Dot was giving was any indication.
“But he married her – and then he came back.” Hermione commented as Dot looked back down at her.
“Word was the baby wasn’t his – no idea if they divorced or went their separate ways, all I know is I never saw the girl again and Tom was never was quite the same.” A frown overtook her face as she turned her head to stare in the direction of the manor, the two siblings looking to one another.
“And the baby?” She wasn’t sure why she asked when she knew what Slughorn had said.
“Probably raised with it’s mother in some shack like this.” Dot commented, shaking her head. “Never heard of no kid trying to claim the manor once the Riddle’s died, so I can only imagine his life – though I did think I saw him once.”
“On the night of the murder?”
“No – a few months after the arrest when I was taking a walk back from the pub – young man just outside this house like you are now, looking like the spitting image of Tom, younger and taller maybe – waving some stick around so maybe he got his mothers madness and that was that.” Dot spoke with a frown before she waved it off. “I had had a bit too much brandy though.” She laughed as though it was a joke even as Hermione turned her head back to the house.
What would Tom have wanted with this place? She doubted there was anything inside worth while, even if her eyes turned to look back at the house, a strange pull there that seemed to want her to take steps forward along with the urge to turn away and walk away.
Did Dot have that same feeling? She could see the house obviously, but did she have the urge to step inside and take a look around or was there something all but compelling her to keep away.
“Mrs Richards -” Her words caught in her throat before she could ask her question, the woman turning back to look at her with sharp eyes. “Thank you for your help.”
“Not sure what I have helped with but I think that is enough prying for today, you should leave this place to rot in the mud and go back to London.” Dot all but hissed out, shaking her head before she started moving back down the street.
“Thank you!” Hermione shouted, the woman waved a hand but didn’t look back as Hermione turned to James as he frowned at the woman. “Lucky for us that this town loves gossip.”
…
Hermione hesitated with her hand raised, ready to knock on the door only to stop herself as she turned to look at James, his eyebrows raised and his hood finally down as the weak sun shone on top of them.
“Should we even bring her into this?” Hermione asked, looking around the pristine garden, the car was gone but it sounded like someone was inside, and she only probably had a few minutes before someone realised they were out here.
James rolled his eyes. “You already brought her into this.” He whispered softly, no accusation in his tone as he raised his hand and knocked against the polished wood before stepping back behind her.
The door opened and a kind face popped out, a confused frown there and a small smile turning up her lips, making her look slightly more like her daughter. “Hermione, I didn’t know you were coming over today, Lily must have forgot to mention it.” She didn’t seem annoyed as she opened the door wider, letting the siblings see into her hallway.
“It wasn’t a planned visit actually, Mrs Evans, very sorry for just barging in.” Hermione spoke, hands clasped behind her back. She half expected Petunia to come down the stairs, despite the fact that she had moved out and was no longer hanging around.
“Not at all, dear, you are always more than welcome – any of Lily’s friends are.” Mrs Evans exclaimed, a grin taking over her face. “Why don’t you both come in – Lily is in town with her father, they should be back soon.” Hermione smiled and nodded her head, pushing James in before her and closing the door as Mrs Evans moved into the kitchen.
James frowned and looked around, the Muggle house so much different from their own and smaller, she nudged him, pointing to his shoes as she slipped off her own, James copying with a frown.
“What -”
“Would either of you like something to drink – a tea, coffee or juice?” James looked at her wide eyed as Hermione rolled her eyes and lead him towards the kitchen.
“Tea would be lovely, Mrs Evans, only if that is alright.” The woman gave her a look that had Hermione smiling slightly. Hermione hadn’t been here too often since her first time a couple of years ago, but enough to have polite conversation with the kind woman.
“And you, James?” The woman asked her brother who jumped and looked shocked that he had even been addressed, Hermione suspected he was struggling at getting over being in Lily’s house.
“Tea would be fine, Mrs Evans, thank you.” He muttered, slightly raspy as the woman smiled at them and gestured for them to sit down.
“So where are your other friends today?” Mrs Evans asked as she leaned against the counter, the teapot bubbling slightly over it’s gas fire.
“They were going to visit our other friend, Remus.” James commented as Hermione turned to look at him sharply, no one had told her that.
Granted, she hadn’t mentioned what her and James were up to, mainly because she couldn’t drag Marlene and Sirius along with her without explaining something to them, something she wasn’t quite ready to share with them – but Remus had all but ignored her for the past month and now suddenly people were allowed to go and see him.
It seemed rather unfair. She missed her friend too.
Mrs Evans seemed to sense something as she poured out the tea, placing it before them with a jug of milk and sugar, eyes narrowing as James added far too much sugar to his own and a quick splash of milk while Hermione kept the sugar out of hers.
“That’s going to rot your teeth.” Mrs Evans commented as James turned to look at her with wide eyes. “Though I suspect your magic has ways around that – so what were your plans with Lily for today?” She asked as James blinked, cheeks seeming slightly red even as Mrs Evans gave a knowing smirk.
“Nothing special, we just wanted to see her – but we...erm...we also wanted to speak to you.” Hermione explained as she took a sip of her tea.
“Oh – whatever for?” Mrs Evans asked as she moved the sugar away from where James was reaching for one more, giving him a pointed look that had him blushing again and the woman smirking as he mumbled an apology under his breath.
“We have a friend, Tom, he was raised in an orphanage, but he’s recently been wanting to find out about his own family, problem is he has a Muggle name and we were wondering how one would go about finding out about their family in the Muggle...in your world.” Mrs Evans seemed to regard her with a frown, lips pursing slightly before she sighed.
“I’m not all that familiar but the orphanage he was raised in should have information, and if not then I suppose he could go down to the GRO, only problem is that it would be rather difficult without prove of identification.” Mrs Evans spoke, shrugging her shoulders as she smiled kindly.
“GRO?”
“General registration office in London.”
“And how does one contact the orphanage?” Hermione asked as Mrs Evans frowned, like it should have been an obvious answer before she seemed to remember something.
“With a phone, or they can send a letter, though that takes longer – hang on…” She explained softly before getting up from the table and heading towards the draws in the kitchen, pulling open one and smiling as she reached in to grab something. “Here we are.”
“What is that?” James asked as Hermione frowned, a giant yellow book was slapped on the table before them, the pages different than that in any other book and seeming random information written down.
“Yellow Pages, provides contact information for businesses throughout the country – I believe my own and Mr Evans are in there.” Mrs Evans exclaimed happily, before frowning. “The orphanage should be in there, I believe, all you will have to do is look for their name and their phone number, might take a while...you are free to take that home with you and give it back once you find what you are looking for.” She added with a kinder smile as Hermione gently flicked through the pages.
“Are you sure, Mrs Evans?” Hermione asked as the woman nodded.
“Of course, and I’m sure Lily will help – speaking of – sweetie look who’s come by.” Mrs Evans spoke with a grin as Lily and her father walked into the kitchen with matching frowns.
“Hermione?” Lily asked, before doing a double take at the boy next to her friend, cheeks turning bright red. “James?! What are you doing here?”
“Lily!” Her mother scolded with a frown, shaking her head. “Your friends came to see you and to ask me some questions to help your friend Tom.” Mrs Evans gave Lily a pointed look, one that had her frowning back in confusion before turning to look at her friends.
“Right...Tom.” Lily mumbled back.
“Honestly, the amount of secrets this one keeps – next thing I’ll hear is that you have some boyfriend you’ve been hiding.” Mrs Evans joked as James choked on his drink, all but spitting it out across the table as Hermione hide her smile behind her hand and Lily’s eyes went wide.
“Nope – no boyfriend.” Lily choked out, moving to wipe up James’ mess and sending him a pointed look.
“Sorry.”
“No problem, lad.” Mr Evans boomed out with a small laugh and knowing glint in his eye, before he turned to look at Hermione. “How have you been, Hermione?” He asked with a more gentle smile.
“Well, thank you Mr Evans, and how are you?”
“Can’t complain – can’t complain.” He answered with a smile as he moved further into the kitchen to grab himself a water as Lily sat herself down at the table, rolling her eyes. “Petunia is -”
“Not something we need to talk about.” Lily mumbled under her breath, ignoring both her parents disapproving eyes on her as Hermione winced in her seat and James frowned. “Come on, let’s go take a walk.” She added, as Hermione nodded her head and looked to James who rapidly finished his tea.
“Thank you for the tea and chat, Mrs Evans.”
“Never a problem dear, it’s lovely to see you again, hopefully you’ll both come around again soon – perhaps for dinner one time.” She seemed so hopeful, a large smile on her face that was honest and genuine, like she couldn’t help but hope and Hermione couldn’t stop her own smile.
“We’d love that.” She answered back as Lily rolled her eyes and James grinned at being included.
…
Hermione had seen Lily’s town before, bigger than Little Hangleton and Godric’s Hollow, with a town centre and more to do than perhaps other places, but it was still English and though the houses were more brick and made during the industry revolution – there was still something so English about it.
Even more so as they sat on the swings, the park empty except for them and the gloomy weather, James seeming to look around in fascination at every thing.
“I can’t believe you both invited yourself into my house – do you know what type of questions my parents are going to ask me now, especially because of you?” Lily asked with a small pout as she pointed to James who stopped his spinning on the roundabout and turned around to grin wildly at her.
“I didn’t do anything, Evans.” James spoke back, sitting on the free swing beside her. “Though if you are on the market for a secret boyfriend -”
“We are going to need to actually go on more dates for that to happen.” Lily spoke rolling her eyes before she seemed to realise what she had said, her cheeks flushing as she looked away from James and his wide grin.
“I’ve only been waiting for months – so just name the time and date, and I will be there.” He commented, looking away from her and his grin dropping slightly like he was scared Lily was going to say something else.
“I’ll have a think.”
Hermione felt her own smile, looking away and trying to give them some semblance of privacy but it was hard when she was sat with them like some kind of third wheel, watching them grin and blush at each other – a second date on the cards like it had been so long ago only to be forgotten amongst Remus drama and exams.
Hopefully they would figure it out soon, or sort something out instead of whatever they were doing. “As much as I hate to break this up, we do have other things to plan and talk about.”
“Like the fact that you went gossiping around some town without me?” Lily asked with a single eyebrow raise as Hermione rolled her eyes. “Next time, I want in – you two are far too posh and snobbish to get information from real people.”
“We did get information.” James commented with a frown, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Figured out that you seemed right about the Riddle and Gaunt connection, apparently father Tom ran off with Merope Gaunt and got her pregnant.” He explained with another smile, nudging her shoulder as he swung side to side.
“I knew it.” She grinned before she scrunched up her face. “Who even names a child Merope? That just seems cruel.”
“I mean, it’s not the nicest name but -”
“No, not because of that – I’m surprised you don’t know this.” Lily spoke, turning to look at Hermione with a frown before continuing. “Merope is a star in Plei...I can’t pronounce it but some cluster – and in Greek mythology it goes that she was also a nymph who married a mortal and had a kid with him, even though some myths say she was the dullest of the seven stars and brought shame on her family and ended up fading away.” Hermione blinked in surprise at Lily who shrugged her shoulders.
“Let me guess, you though I knew that because of the Black’s.” Hermione spoke dryly as Lily gave her a timid smile.
“I bet Sirius knows more about it.”
“I’m more curious as to how you know about it.”
“I used to have a fascination with Greek myths and legends as a kid.” Lily explained, frowning slightly before a grin overtook her face. “Another example of the name is the use of it in the Greek play, Oedipus Rex, where she is some Queen, and her kid Oedipus ends up killing his true father out of some misguided prophecy, not knowing it was his dad or something.”
“The first one is sounding too accurate as to what happened to Merope, the second one less so – Merlin, you’re so smart.” James all but sighed out as he looked at Lily with awe in his eyes.
“Thank you, but it’s nothing really – so what else did you find?” Lily spoke, turning back to Hermione with pink cheeks and a soft smile on her face.
“Nothing really, just that and -”
“Well, well, well what do we have here.” The group turned to see Snape as he strolled across the grass, a smirk on his face as he crossed his arms over his chest and regarded the three of them. “What are you doing here, Potters?”
“None of your business, Snape.” Hermione spoke back with a frown as the boy moved closer, he lacked his usual cloak but his clothes were still black and his hair all but stuck to his face with the amount of grease on it.
“You’re in my town, with Lily, that makes it my business – and you brought your brother too.”
“I didn’t realise you owned all of Cokeworth, Severus – my friends can be here whenever they want to be here.” Lily commented as she rolled her eyes, hands gripping the chains of the swings tightly.
“Maybe then I’ll start inviting my friends.” James and Hermione stood, a hiss leaving her mouth and her hand reaching for her wand but Lily was there before her, hand on her arm, stopping her as she narrowed her eyes at her ex best friend.
“I don’t think Voldemort is the type who goes for sleepovers, Snape.” Lily commented dryly, and if it wasn’t for the threat then Hermione might have actually let out a laugh at Snape’s slightly shocked face.
The boy recovered quickly, sending a glare to James where he stood on Lily’s other side, his wand in his hand and his hazel eyes narrowed, no doubt a hex ready to be flung at the next insult. “Is that why he is here? Are you letting him into your bed, Lily?”
“No – but so what if I was – that wouldn’t be any of your business.” Lily hissed, her cheeks red but her angry eyes remained focused on Snape.
“Never thought I would see you be so eager to spread your legs for a Potter.”
“Says the boy who spreads his own for a mass murderer.”
“I’m not -”
“There’s no point coming up with excuses, Snape, you’re in your little Dark Lord’s pocket and you’ve made that clear – now leave us alone before I do something about it.” Lily all but growled, her own wand suddenly in her hand. Hermione would have been proud if she wasn’t so worried about why the girl thought she needed to have it up her sleeve in her own town.
Snape seemed to think so too as something crossed his face, eyes flicking down to the long piece of wood. “Lil’ -”
“He kills people like me, you’ve seen the news and perhaps you’ve even been involved, so don’t you dare try and think our old friendship is going to get you any sympathy.” Snape flinched at Lily’s harsh words, his mouth opening before she cut him off. “I’m done trying to reason with you, I’ve told you this – now leave.”
Snape gave them all another look, seeming to contemplate something before he turned around the way he had came, head bowed and hands clenched tightly by his side.
Hermione turned to her best friend, a furrowed brow and her hand reaching out to touch the girls shoulder gently. “Lily, are you -”
“So what’s our plan with figuring out what orphanage Tom was in?” Lily asked suddenly, a fire in her eyes that made Hermione twist with unease. Whether at Snape or Voldemort, it didn’t matter, she knew that look, had seen it on herself so many times and she would do anything to take it from her best friends face.
…
Hermione rolled her neck as she sat out her bed, showered and dressed for bed for the evening. It had been a long day with too much gossip, and too much travelling – and too many question but there were answers now, ones carefully written along with all other information she had collected and placed in a carefully sealed notebook, only spelled to open for herself, James and Lily.
The next week would probably bring a whole new amount of searching, and hopefully more answers and maybe even a chip or two in the wall in her head.
A sigh left her mouth as a soft knock sounded on her door, she just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep, instead she was met with the grinning face of Sirius as he raised a finger to her lips and shuffled into her room, the door closing softly behind him.
“Hi?” He all but skipped over, placing a soft kiss onto her lips before jumping onto her bed and stretching out, all long limbs and messy hair. “You do know my parents will kill you for sneaking in here, don’t you?”
“I know, I just feel like I haven’t seen you in ages – I missed you today.” Her eyes narrowed even as a smile made it’s way to her face.
“How was Remus?”
“Same as usual, mopey and self loathing but apparently he’s been sending letters to a certain blond haired individual.” Sirius whispered as though Remus was in the room with them, a large wolfish grin taking over his face as he wrapped his arms around her waist.
“What – Edith?” Hermione asked with her own frown, tongue clicking in her mouth as Sirius gave her a quick look. “Good for him – did he say when he was finally going to get over whatever his issue is and come round?” She added with a sigh, the familiar ache of missing her friend ringing throughout her body.
Sirius let go of her, moving to sit beside her and sucking in a breath. “It’s not him – his parents are a bit nervous at the minute, what with the rumours of the werewolves and Voldy, they think it’s best if he stays where they can keep an eye on him.”
“He would be safe here.”
“They know that, but he is there son and they worry.” Sirius spoke, giving her a pointed look. “How was Evans?”
“Fine, we ran into Snape – you would have been impressed at the way she handled him and we discussed some Greek mythology.” Hermione answered as she all but climbed over him to lay back on her bed, Sirius following and wrapping an arm around her waist.
“Fun.”
“Do you know the Merope star?” Hermione asked with a frown, turning her head to the side, their faces close enough for their noses to touch and their eyes to cross slightly as they tried to focus on the other.
“The one in the Taurus constellation and the cluster Pleiades – yes I do.” He answered with a frown. “Why?” Hermione couldn’t help but be amused – the whole amount of stars and their knowledge could be found in his head, drilled in through his family and the people they named after the stars.
“Lily was telling us the story about it, and the Greek legend behind Merope.” Hermione answered. “Quite a sad story.” She whispered as she stroked the side of his face, silver eyes so much like the star he was named after watching her carefully.
“Yeah it is.” He commented back with a frown. “At least she gets a story though, most of Sirius’ are just about being hot and burning everything.” He rolled his eyes, and Hermione knew there were probably more stories about the stars that the Greeks and Romans had told but she couldn’t think of one right now that applied to him.
“Well you are quite hot.” She grinned out as his eyes widened slightly and a small smirk took over his face.
“Damn right I am – this is why you’re my girlfriend, never ending compliments to my ego.” He moved the hand around her waist to tap her nose as she scrunched up her face and frowned at him.
“I was under the impression that one had to be asked to be a girlfriend in order to be called a girlfriend.” She teased back as he frowned at her and placed his hand back on her waist, thumb drawing small circles on the small strip of skin there.
For a second she thought he would say something else, make a joke or even tell her that it was implied about what they were – and she would agree. She didn’t need him to ask her out to know what they were, not really – they were Sirius and Hermione, together and taking things at their own pace, with or without labels linked to them.
Instead he smiled softly, moving slightly closer and rubbing his nose against her own. “Kitten...Hermione...do you want to be my girlfriend?” A soft smile made it’s way to her face as she leaned forward and placed a kiss on his lips. “Is that a yes?”
“Yes.” She muttered back, pulling him as close as she could and shivering when his hand drifted a bit further under her jumper.
She might be killed if her parents found them, but she couldn’t find it exactly in her to care when Sirius’ mouth moved down her neck and his hand higher still.