The Altar of the Phoenix

I can dim the lights and sing you songs full of sad things

We can do the tango, just for two

I can serenade and gently play your heart strings

14th April 1976

“And you’re sure you’re all ready?” Remus asked, for the fifteenth time that evening, folding his jumper and placing it on a little table. 

“Yes, Moony.” James almost sang, looking to Sirius in amusement. 

Getting Remus to let them come along that night had been more work than expected. Despite his great help in their animagus transformations, the boy was too nervy that the wolf might not enjoy the company. That his wolf might hurt his friends as he hurt Remus. 

But after a presentation from the Black twins (explaining how and why it was sure to work), he begrudged them an opportunity. 

They’d snuck under James’s cloak - four friends pressed close as they trailed the path behind Remus and Madame Pomphrey. Hiding their snickers as the matron fussed over the tired boy and offered a quick hug in parting before Remus clambered down a hole in the bottom of the Whomping Willow. The other Marauders had sort of forgotten how much their werewolf friend saw of the mediwitch. How close they must be, facing it together. 

The shack itself was easy to get to, even after Madame Pomphrey quickly dispelled whatever stopped the Willow from whomping. Pete and Ara were both small enough in their forms that they could scamper below the swinging branches and find what Remus had told them about. A little knot at the base of the trunk, that when poked had the power to paralyse the branches. 

When asked how he had learned of it, Remus had shrugged.

“How else would I get back to the castle in the morning?” He’d laughed awkwardly, quickly darting onto another topic. 

It was clear that most of the boy’s trepidation came from his unease with the wolf. The fear of infecting his friends or trying to eat them… well, the rest imagined it would be tough. 

“Pebbles told us to bring you a change of clothes.” Pete chirped from his seat atop a rickety bed, pulling a knapsack forth. “And chocolate.”

“Cheers, Ara.” Remus looked to the girl with a slight smile, though his eyes were too sad to sell it. 

“I just thought about what I like around my time of the month.” She winked, laughing as the boys all went red-faced. That is, save for her twin. He’d had the unfortunate experience of being connected in their minds as she’d first discovered blood in her knickers. After Dorea and Effie’s long chat about how female bodies worked, and this monthly curse that no one had ruddy told Ara about… well, Sirius had simply stopped any embarrassment. 

“The Shack does look quite like what a cramp feels like.” Her twin remarked, eyes roaming the scratched walls. 

They were on the second floor of the dim shack, tucked in the bedroom that Remus liked to sort his stuff in, prior to transformation. Lit by blue flames in a jar, the windows boarded with thick slates. Of all the rooms, it was the least tarnished. A few scratches along the walls, across the doorframe. Claw marks in the rug and a broken desk by the shut window. 

It was bleak. So very dingy that all the other Marauders could feel was regret that they had not finished their transformation sooner. No one should have to go through such a thing, in such a place, alone. 

“How do you know what a cramp feels like?” James turned to his best mate with raised brows and utter bewilderment. 

“I asked once, so Ara sent all the pain over the bond.” He shuddered. “Why do you think I keep so many pain potions? It’s hard to think when Pebbles is wincing in the back of my mind.”

“I think it’s time.” Remus suddenly winced, spinning to face his friends with clicks and pops of his bones. “We ought to get downstairs.” 

As they trekked down the creaky staircase, the scratches and splinters grew. A chunk taken from the bottom of the banister, with splinters of wood across the seams and splits. Broken furniture and chairs with legs torn off as they reached the foyer. 

Still, for all the broken items and mess, there lacked splinters of wood along the floor. Or chips of paint from the scratched walls, streamers of shredded wallpaper. And it was just clear, obvious in the most painful way, that it had been the work of Remus. A hasty clean up before company came round. 

As his steps became more sluggish, more worn and shuddering, Ara stepped closer to offer a quick peck on the cheek. Blushing as Remus glanced at her in surprise, offering the most truthful smile he had that evening. Then, as soon as it had come, it was replaced by that furrow of dread. 

“Look away when I start changing, won’t you?” Remus winced, glancing across to the boys before looking back to Ara. “It’s a bit unsightly, you know.”

“No worries, Moony. We’ll take the moment to shift, ourselves.” Sirius mimed a cross over his heart, winking at the unamused boy. 

“And run if I try… if anything…” Remus spluttered, face terribly flushed as he blinked at Sirius. 

“We know, Moony.” Sirius smiled softly. “We’re ready.” 

“Alright.” He sighed finally, hanging his head after a jerky nod. “See you on the other side.” He spoke grimly, looking up to offer a mirthless laugh as he stepped into one of the downstairs rooms.  

The four others waited in the hall. Listening, first to the silence, and then to a sudden howl. Utter agony in every groan and scream from that room, as they heard Remus’s bones snapping and skin tearing. 

Wordlessly, the Marauders looked to each other with heavy nods. Whispering the incantation as they waved their wands. 

In that shack, isolated and cold: a stag, a cat, a dog, and a mouse played all night alongside a werewolf. And for the first time in his life, Remus woke up after the full moon without scars. 

——

23rd April 1976

In this memory, Hermione was in Grimmauld Place. The odd version that existed in this other time, this other reality. 

She was in the library. The different one, with comfy armchairs and far less books on Dark magic. Scouring some heavy tome, crutching it desperately as her eyes quickly flicked across the page. 

Ah, Ara thought. She was dreaming again of the end of Hermione’s fourth year. That urgent summer that the girl had scoured book after book for answers. Searching every historical archive she could access and memorising chapter after chapter. Reading up on the most obscure of magics, on every defensive spell or tactic she could find. 

Her breath hitched, eyes darting to reread a section of the page. 

“But the darkest magic of all, is surely the heinous and most foul magic of a horcrux.” Ara could hear her voice, Hermione’s voice mutter. Far more soft and high than her raspy tone. A bit shrill at times, but Ara could be too, so she wasn’t prone to judge. “So very grave that not even this book will account the process, for to do so is to speak such evil into existence.” 

She turned the page. And, from between the sheets of paper, a slip of parchment slipped out. Gliding into her lap, blank and torn. Curiously, her fingers caught the parchment. Flicking it over in her hand to spy thick black lettering crossed with harsh blots to blur the wording. 

In a scratchy script, there were a half dozen different starts to a letter. 

‘Dear Lord, I know what’, ’My Lord, go fuck yourself’, ‘magic will die under your corruption’, ‘you took my brother from me.’

Her breath hitched. Without thinking, she scrambled to her feet, dropping the tome as she clutched the parchment. She slid through the corridor, halting right as she heard a voice from the office. 

“My idiot brother.” Sirius huffed a mirthless laugh. “Soft enough to believe them.” His voice was gentle in grief. 

Carefully, Ara peaked around the doorframe. Glancing at the pair, so distracted by the weathered tapestry upon the wall. 

“That’s him.” Sirius spoke gently. “He was younger than me, and a much better son, as I was constantly reminded.” Ara knew her brother too well to not hear his devastation. The brutal acceptance that his little brother had died for something that Sirius fought against. 

In another life, Reg had been the same boy he had always been. Loyal and kind and desperate for his family’s survival. But in that life, he hadn’t got Ara. And so, he didn’t have his big brother by his side. Not without her to temper their differences. 

It left Sirius angry. Pissed off that his brother had gone and gotten himself killed, and always guilty the he hadn’t stopped it. 

Hermione pulled back from the door; back pressed against the wall as she sighed softly. Then, as Harry’s voice bled into her ears like a comforting tune, she spelled her steps silent. And so, Hermione Granger walked away. 

——

Usually, on Fridays, James Potter could not be found in his dorm with the other Marauders. Despite the whole lot not having any lessons in the afternoon, James took the time to train with a few of his Quidditch teammates. 

He’d show up in the evening to dinner, sweaty and donning grass-stained gear as he’d tiredly make a plate before running to the dorms for a shower. 

And yet, this particular Friday, the door of the dorm snapped open and shut with a firm thunder as James Potter stalked inwards and flopped face-first onto his bed. 

There he lay, for a moment. Clothed still in unstained training kit; hair ruffled like he’d been flying, with his shoes on the wrong bloody feet. 

Three sets of eyes met with confused shrugs from across the dormitory. Sirius sat atop his bunk, thumbing through his records as he attempted to organise them. Remus was creating distinct piles of his jumpers upon his mattress; the motives and system unclear. A clear glance at the two of them suggested that they weren’t planning on intervening. So Pete, clambering from his desk where he had been making small edits to the front of their Marauder’s Map, approached the side of James’s bunk. He looked upwards with utter panic as he tried to inspect the boy, motioning to Sirius. 

“You alright there, Prongs?” Sirius asked, grinning at Pete’s fluster. There was a breath, then finally James spoke. 

“I’ve made a terrible mistake.” His voice muffled into the pillow, followed by a groan.

“Can’t be as bad as you’re thinking, mate.” Peter spoke reassuringly, awkwardly patting James’s back. 

“It’s worse.”

“Well bloody tell us then.” Sirius spoke, resting his head in his hands - elbows on his knees as he watched on with a gleam to his eyes. 

“Fine.” He groaned into the bed. His next words muffled. Sirius came over and yanked the pillow away, the boys chuckling as James face hit the mattress with an oof. 

“Speak up, lad.” Sirius grinned as James lifted his head from the mattress - shooting his best friend a glare. 

Sighing, the bespectacled boy rolled onto his back and rubbed his face. 

“I had sex with Evans.” He mumbled, as though the words were physically painful to say. 

“You had sex with Rosier?” Peter gasped, prompting the other boys to stare at him in confusion.

“No, you twat, I had sex with Lily Evans.” James snapped, before his face fell and he flopped back onto the bed face-first. 

The three boys shot each other amused, if slightly bemused looks. 

“So?” Sirius laughed. 

“So I hate her!” James exclaimed into the mattress, trying to yank his bright scarlet bedsheets over himself. Unfortunately, Sirius was having too much fun preventing him. The bespectacled boy tried to yank his Invisibility cloak from his beside table, glaring briefly at his friends upon its absence before he resume his faceplant of his pillow. 

“I mean… clearly not if you, you know.” Remus smirked, gold threaded through his eyes briefly as he lightly sniffed the air - nose twitching with disgust. The others chose not to comment. Peter merely reached into his bag and retried the cloak, resting it on James’s table with a finger pressed against his lips. 

“Thought you hadn’t even had your first kiss yet, Prongs?” Pete raised a brow, almost impressed by how much his friend had jumped the gun. 

“Shut up.” James’s voice was muffled, clearly bitter. 

“Oh my stars!” Sirius exclaimed, clutching a hand to his heart. “He still hasn’t ruddy had his first kiss!” The three boys guffawed as James raised his head briefly, if only to glare at them. 

“Shut up!” He repeated, before attempting again to snatch his sheets from Sirius and hide anew. Their struggle was a great amusement, briefly, until Sirius’s expression turned almost calculating. 

“Oh god, does this mean we’re the last virgins?” Sirius suddenly exclaimed, flashing a look to Peter. 

“You are.” The other boy merely smirked in reply as he straightened. 

“Since when?” He gasped, dropping James’s sheets as he gawked at the blond boy. 

“Summer.” Peter shrugged nonchalantly, eyes darting to the bunk as a messy-haired boy buried himself entirely below an ugly red duvet. “Met this girl from near home.”

“Aw fuck.” With that, Sirius stood abruptly - saluting the boys before marching away.

“What’s he up to?” James asked, vision still obscured by fabric. 

“I think he’s going to find someone to have sex with.” Remus replied, his amused tone a little too hard to be fully genuine. 

“No one tell Ara.” Petey laughed, knowing that she would likely find out through the bond - given Sirius was awful at sealing it from his side. With a soft laugh, he stood and made his way over to James’s bed. “Congrats, James. Or condolences. Whatever, I’m off to find Alice. She’s still got my textbook.” He shrugged; bidding Remus goodbye with a Muggle salute. 

With that, the two were left in the dorm alone. 

“Why’d you do it?” Remus asked after a moment of silence. James pulled his head from the pillows, looking to Remus in shock.

“I don’t know.” He sighed. “We were… I found her crying about something Snivelllus did and she told me that she didn’t hate me. Apologised for hexing us over Snape, said it wasn’t worth it. I never found out what she meant, cause after that she was straddling me and it just sort of happened.”

“Do you like her?” Remus asked, gaze intense. 

The two had never spoken of their mutual feelings towards Ara, but he could feel the unspoken question lingering behind Remus’s words. Do you like her more than Ara, it seemed to say. 

He felt himself shaking his head before he’d even mulled over an answer. 

“I don’t think I can see her that way. She’s pretty, sure, but…” she’s not Ara.  

The two boys met each other’s eyes warily. 

“So what are you going to do about it?” 

“Nothing, Reems.” He let out a large sigh. “I’ve made a mess of everything.”

“You really have.” James frowned at his friend. “Well then, I’m off.” He jumped from his perch, surprising the other boy. 

“Where are you off to?” He eyed him suspiciously. 

“Gonna find Ara.” He replied absently, as though there wasn’t a thinly veiled threat behind the words. As though Remus weren’t bragging about the connection the two shared, the fact that he was her best friend in a way that James wasn’t. 

Though none of them were quite her friend in the way Petey was. If there was any jealousy in friendship, it should have rested with him; were it not for how kind and obviously romantically uninterested in Ara he was. 

——

“I figured I’d find you here.” 

Ara blushed as she looked up, heat pooling at the tone of voice. 

She and Pandora had been studying in the library since breakfast; the Ravenclaw girl fleeing at lunchtime to meet with some boys from her House to do some experiments. Ara wasn’t fully privy to the ideas, but she knew Panda would show her the finished results. She always did, after all. 

Really, Ara had expected to be alone for the afternoon. She certainly had not prepared to see Remus stood beside her table, eyes streaked gold. She peered around him, surprised to find her little hidden corner entirely empty. No company following her friend. 

“You got a free minute?” He asked in that same low, coarse tone. She hadn’t heard it in a while, not since the last time the two had slept together. 

Not trusting herself to speak without squeaking, she nodded. 

He grinned down at her, pulling himself into the seat beside her. 

“What’s up, Moony?” She finally spoke, her throat dry despite her swallow. 

“How’s the Transfiguration essay going?” She blinked dumbly at his question. 

“I finished it an hour ago. Do you need my notes?”

“Gods no,” he laughed, “I’m not Prongs, I get my homework done without intervention.” She smiled at the comment. 

“True, but I don’t mind too much.” 

“That’s because you’re a good person.” She blushed at the praise, still unused to that as a sentiment. He could tell her that she was a good person, every day for the rest of her life, and she’d still never believe it fully. 

“Why are you here, Remus? I don’t see any classwork.” She looked pointedly at his lack of school bag. 

“Can I let you in on a secret?” He whispered lowly, smirking as she mutely nodded. The curve of his lip tilted the silver ring; metal sparkling beneath his teeth. “I had to get out of the dorm. It’s been a bit mad there today.”

“What state was the dorm in when you left, then?” She queried, resting her chin on her palm, pinkie fiddling with the gold loop around her nose. 

“Your twin was running off to try and lose his virginity.”

“Why is he only ever ‘my twin’ when he’s being a twat?” She rolled her eyes when Remus flicked her nose.

“Because.” He grinned in reply. “Pete went off to find Alice to share Herbology notes for that project, and James was lying down. He’s had quite the day.”

“Why Mr Lupin, I sense a bit of gossip there.”

“If I tell you, you have to swear not to let Lily know.” She raised an eyebrow at that, curiosity bounding. 

“Sounds fair.”

“He and Lily finally had sex.”

“Oh!” She blinked in shock, frowning a little at the notion. “But they hate each other?”

“Apparently not. You know I’ve been saying that James has a weird thing for her. I always wondered if she liked him back. They fought too much for it to be only loathing.”

“I can’t believe I can’t just go and ask Lily.” She groaned. “You’re the worst.”

“Oh am I?” He smirked back, eyes flittering to her lips as he leaned closer. Her teeth caught her lower one, biting down as he pinned her with a lustful stare. She inhaled shakily, leaning back ever so slightly. 

“Remus.” She breathed, tilting her head slightly. “What are you doing?”

“Do you ever think… maybe we gave up too soon?” His eyes flashed golden, a wickedly sinful look to them. It made her swallow, leaning in unconsciously. Ever since they’d become animagus, there was something deeper in her bond with Remus. If they were a wolf pack, she’d be his Beta. It was a feeling the two would confuse for a while longer; a distraction from those they deemed untouchable. Not that they even knew it. 

“Oh, Remus.” She breathed, eyes fixed on his. “It was such a mess, wasn’t it?”

“Indeed.” He grinned lopsided. “But it’s been a year.”

“It has.” She nodded.

“And I think it’s safe to say that everything’s died down. Maybe this time I won’t get punched.”

“Cocky, are we?” 

“When you look at me like that, how can I not be?” 

There were no more words to be spoken. His lips pressed against hers and soon her hands were in his hair - pulling him closer. Legs pushed wide as he slotted in the gap; hands swallowing the sides of her face as he kissed her deeply. 

Familiar motions as his thumb brushed her cheek, a little moan tearing from her throat - swallowed by his lips. Within a blink, he’d pulled her onto his lap and pressed her against him. Core to core, chest to chest as his tongue darted between her lips and her hands gripped his hair tighter. 

“What… are we… doing?” She gasped between kisses, his hands roaming soft caresses down the sides of her throat, little brushes past her breasts as he settled his grip on her waist. 

“Ara.” Remus breathed, eyes gold and hooded as he looked to her; so close they could feel each other’s breath. “Would you like to be my girlfriend?”

“Would you like me to be your girlfriend?” She challenged, raising a cocky brow. His fingers pinched her side and she squealed, shivering in his lap - pressed closer against him and utterly soaking her underwear. 

“If you’re offering.” He grinned, hands reaching Granth her skirt to hook his thumbs into the waistband of her knickers. Warm fingers against her cool skin - scorching a path of sweet flicks and gentle strokes. His head leant into the crook of her neck with light kisses along the path. 

“You’re being awfully cocky.” Ara murmured, instinctively leaning to grant him better access. 

“I just have a great sense of smell.” He spoke against her neck, fingers delving lower as she shivered at the feel of his breath against her sensitive skin. “And I…” her underwear dragged below her hips, fabric slipped from beneath her to bunch between them, “love the smell of honeysuckle.” 

His hand was bigger than her entire crotch as it settled over it, finger darting between her soaked folds as she bit her lip to mask a moan. 

“Nous sommes dans la bibliothèque!” She hissed between clenched teeth, flopping her head into Remus’s neck as his thumb found its target with flicks to that sweet bundle of nerves at the top. He twisted to continue placing soft kisses across her collar - eyes darting to scan the empty tables and aisles.

“No one’s here.” He promised with little kisses to the crook of her neck. “I’ll know if anyone comes near. You’re safe.” 

His ministrations grew more rapid as she shook in his lap. His knee jolted her as he stroked her core, fingers curling inside as she buried a moan in his collar. Just them in the back of the library, in the dim silence of the early evening. 

The heat grew and grew as Ara’s breath hastened. Tense as the wire coiled inside her gut, ready to spring undone. Her hands slipped to his shoulders - nails gripping fabric as he sent her over the edge. A loud gasp and moan, reverberating against his skin as she sunk closer against him with heavy breaths as his hand stopped its work. Fingers slipping from inside her as she pulled her head up in a sleepy gesture. 

It was just in time to spy him slip the fingers inside his mouth, tongue skirting the slickness from his skin as he looked smugly her way. 

She was certain she looked a mess. Lipstick and eyeshadow smeared from her face-flop onto his school shirt. She could see remnants on the white cotton. Crescents of blue and a long smudge of dark red. 

And yet, Remus still looked utterly proud of himself. Smiling her way as he slid his other hand from her knickers and reached for her cheek. Thumb brushing her skin as he rested his other hand on her knee. 

“Be my girlfriend, Ara. Let’s give us an actual go.” He spoke gently; eyes gold and so very familiar that it burned. 

How could she say no? 

Not to the first boy she’d entrusted her heart to. Her friend, the boy she’d met at eleven years old across a table in the Great Hall. Both secretly glad to not be alone in their scars, and oh how that had bloomed. From pranks to shared homework, that summer of snuck moments at Andy’s and learning about their bodies together. 

Maybe this was right. Of all her early memories of Hermione’s future life, Remus had been alone. How else could that be, if not for her? 

If Alice took Tucker away, only to snog Frank behind his back… if everything was on some preset path and Neville and Ronald and Draco would exist… maybe this was how it was meant to be? 

Was it her that gave the older Remus the hollow to his eyes? The sorrow beneath each word and the half-hearted smiles he offered. Because, if there was one thing she knew, it was that she wouldn’t make it to that time. Doomed to watch a life she would never see as Ara Black. 

Sometimes, when she was optimistic, she hoped that after her death, she would become Hermione Granger. Reincarnation to watch over her friends’ children. To be able to live a happier youth, even if damped by this everlasting war. And when she was full of hopelessness, she feared that it was all simply pointless. That she was doomed to dream a life she would never be a part of. To witness all the misery, never able to sway the tides. 

Had she even tried? 

Or, rather, was she ready to yet? 

“Alright then.” Ara sighed, nodding softly as her lips curled into a smile. “I’ll be your girlfriend.”