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2020-05-12
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You Only Live Twice

Summary:

When Remus and Hermione are thrust back through time to 1975, they just plan to save the world. No big deal. But navigating their own evolving relationships and queer identities proves to be nearly as challenging.

An indulgent series of ‘what if’s’ that resulted in a queer, poly-friendly romp through time with a god-damn happy ending for once.

Notes:

Hello! I've had this fic concept bouncing around in my head for literal years now. I'm excited to put it out into the world. I hope y'all enjoy.

You can find me on TikTok (@fictionbutmakeitgay) if you want to nerd out about it. You're also more than welcome to comment on ao3. I read and respond to every single one!

BIG thank-you to Maddy (TT @iswearimuptonogood), Freya (TT @minnielupinblack), and Sydney for beta-ing this fic!

If you'd like to follow along with the music in this fic, you can find the Spotify playlist here: https://linktr.ee/gayfiction

Oh! And please do NOT repost this to ff.net or wattpad, etc. You're welcome to post short *credited* excerpts. I've been flattered to see those on TikTok.

xo Ace (they/them)

Chapter 1

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The first thing he heard was his mother’s lilting voice in the distance. Just out of reach, as always. He rolled over, intending to chase the dream back into unconsciousness when he smelled laverbread. Which was impossible. He hadn’t had a full Welsh breakfast since—well. 

Remus forced his eyes open and his body slightly more upright, taking in his surroundings. Twin bed flush against the old window, despite the chill, because he loved the view of his mother’s garden. Two shoddy bookcases exploding with novels and old textbooks alike. A small desk where he wrote to his friends and diligently prepared his summer assignments. A Bowie poster Sirius had given him for Christmas and a handful of photographs of his friends stuck to the wall.

It was all... exactly how he remembered it. Which was, once again, impossible. He hadn’t been in this room some twenty years.

But something had happened. Something unfathomable and crazy and completely, utterly impossible. And yet here he was in his childhood bedroom, with his mother’s voice drifting from the kitchen. Was it more than a mere dream?

His hands flew to his torso, sliding under his oversized T-shirt to catalog his scars. Many familiar raises, welts, and punctures were there. Others... conspicuously absent. And his body felt, well, it felt more whole, as of yet untouched by age and destitution. The transformation had worked. His decades of memories remained intact, but his body was firmly fifteen.

Shell-shocked, Remus made his way to the kitchen and found her over the stove, frying up laverbread and bacon.

“Mam,” he croaked, tears pricking his eyes. Hope turned around and her smile was just as he remembered: warm and reaching out across her tanned face, creating the little crow’s feet that he had always loved.

“My darling boy,” she greeted him, rising up on her tip-toes to smooth his rumpled hair, “be a lamb and set the table, would you? Your father should be out of the shower any moment.”

He nodded mutely but his body stayed rooted in place, refusing to put any distance between himself and his mother. She raised an eyebrow at him, asking, “What’s this, then? Still half-asleep, are you?”

“Just happy to see you,” he smiled softly, pulling her into a quick hug. Her laughter echoed through his ribs as she wrapped her strong arms around him.

“You’re a charmer, you are,” she chuckled, drawing back. “Now get to it! Table’s not going to set itself.”

He huffed a laugh and turned away, heart soaring up out of the kitchen and into the clouds above.

Lyall sat down at the table a few minutes later, nodding gruffly at them as he shook open the Daily Prophet. Remus snuck a glance at the front page, checking the date: August 18th, 1975. There were two weeks until the school term started: fifth year, the calm before the storm—back when they all thought they couldn’t be touched, that their adolescence would stretch on forever.

Remus knew better now, although a part of him longed for those delusions. He’d take any time he could siphon away with the people he loved. For the next two weeks, he soaked up his mother’s easy laughter and tender presence. He sat with her often while she puttered about in the garden, her with a trowel and him with a different book every day.

All he could do was wait for September 1st.

 

 

Remus fiddled with the frayed sleeves of his jumper. He’d gotten to the station early, alight with anticipation, even as he kissed his parents goodbye. Now he sat in their usual compartment, knees drawn up and hugged in close to his chest. This was the same compartment he’d shared with not only his fellow Marauders for seven years but with Harry and his friends during his short tenure as a Hogwarts professor. It was strange, being a teenager again. In the weeks since his arrival in this timeline, he had felt the emotions and thoughts of his fifteen-year-old self come flooding back. Thankfully, they were tempered by the broader perspective granted by his lived experience as an adult. 

Lost in his thoughts, he was startled back to the present by the slam of the compartment door as his three oldest friends in the world burst through, fresh-faced and startlingly young. Sirius’s grey eyes were bright with excitement, with no trace of the shadows that Remus remembered after his many years in Azkaban, and his dark hair was still in the process of growing out, soft waves not yet brushing his shoulders.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t our resident swot.” Remus's heart leaped at the familiar aristocratic drawl.

“What’d you expect, Sirius? I bet our Remus is just jonesing to get back to a real library. Textbooks alone cannot sustain him for an entire summer.” James winked at Remus and grasped his forearm, drawing him up and into a firm embrace. He folded his arms around James in return, marveling at the feeling of his friend, alive and well.

“I’ll have you know that I didn’t even finish the Standard Book of Spells, Grade Five,” Remus quipped reflexively.

“A technicality, surely,” Sirius scoffed as he pushed James out of the way, wrapping his arms around Remus. A low voice in his ear, “Don’t think I didn’t notice you squirreling away with Frank’s old copy last term. You’re the biggest swot I’ve ever met, Remus Lupin.”

Remus flushed and chuckled, “Get off me, you menace.”

“H-hey Remus,” Peter smiled as he reached up to tentatively pat Remus on the back. Whatever Sirius and James lacked in regard for personal space, Peter made up for in spades. It was just as well too; while Remus knew that the boy who stood before him wasn’t the man who had betrayed his family in the original timeline, it might have been difficult to reconcile in just one day.

Peter smiled with his lips firmly pressed together, still self-conscious of his buck teeth. Remus smiled back at him tentatively, taking in his dusty blonde hair, open face, and ruddy complexion. He was just a boy, Remus reminded himself.

They settled into their compartment, Sirius throwing his legs over Remus’s lap and beginning a steady stream of chatter about their summer escapades (Peter had accidentally dyed his mother’s kneazle flamingo pink), possible pranks for the new term (what about dying the hair of all Slytherin fifth years instead?), and as always: girls.

“All I’m saying is that I think I have a real shot this year!” James argued with a cocky grin. He pushed up his shirt sleeve and flexed his wiry, brown arms for effect.

“Maybe in your dreams, mate!” Sirius laughed. “Evans doesn’t seem the type to be swayed by good looks alone.”

“So you admit I am good looking?” James teased, waggling his thick eyebrows.

“I think you’re reading too much into it, James,” Remus smirked. He felt Sirius’s laughter reverberate through his body, now leaned against his side. “Besides, Lily’s much too good for you.” 

“That’s true,” James sighed, a dreamy expression stealing over his face. Then he turned to Remus and clutched his chest with dramatic flair. “But Remus, are you suggesting I give up on true love? I think not! I’d spend the rest of my days pining from afar before I let your cynicism bring me down!”

“It’s okay, James,” Remus smiled slyly. “You don’t have to listen to me. What do I know? I’m just a realist.”

At James’s squawk of indignation, Peter lost it. His giggles filled the compartment, and soon the other Marauders joined in as well.

James lifted up his wire-rimmed glasses to wipe at his eyes. Grinning, he said, “Remus, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I think I can imagine,” Remus said dryly even as a smile stole over his face. Oh, how he’d missed this, missed being with them.

“But really,” James leaned forward. “Don’t you think I have a chance with Lily this year? I have a whole ten-step plan!”

“Oh lay off it, James,” Sirius laughed. “Lily may have ‘flaming locks of auburn hair’ but she’s not worth it! How about Marls? She’s a right laugh.”

Remus started humming Jolene under his breath as the others bantered, catching Peter’s eye with a smirk as he finished the first verse. It had become a running joke among the three long-suffering friends when they first heard Dolly’s hit single. Lily matched the description of ‘Jolene’ almost perfectly with her “ivory skin and eyes of emerald green.”

Sirius caught the idea, turning from James to begin singing in earnest, slipping into his role as James’s jilted girlfriend while Remus played Lily. James groaned in exasperation at his friend’s antics. He’d been subjected to many such performances since the song had been released in fourth year. 

James cleared his throat loudly and pointedly checked his watch before glancing at Remus. “Don’t you have somewhere to be, Mr. Prefect?” 

“James, no!” Sirius complained as Remus wriggled out from his clutches and shot out of his seat. “Why did you have to remind him?”

Remus didn’t stick around to hear the answer; he flew through the door and down the hall to the meeting.

 

 

As the majority of students sat down to eat in the great hall, Remus scanned the room. Surely, he should have seen her by now.

The first years lined up for the Sorting Ceremony. Professor McGonagall stood by the hat and four-legged stool wielding her parchment of names.

“Before we begin, I’d like to introduce a new student. She'll be entering her fifth year, although she has not studied with you all previously. I hope you’ll give her a warm welcome to Hogwarts,” McGonagall pursed her lips as she scrutinized the student body.

“Hermione Longbottom," she called and Hermione stepped out of the shadows. She towered above the first-years as she made her way to the Sorting Hat. It barely touched the top of her head before shouting, "Gryffindor!"

Notes:

Here we go! 💜

Chapter 2

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Remus’s eyes widened as Hermione made her way over to the Gryffindor table and took a seat with the other fifth-year girls. On the surface, she looked the same as when he’d known her at fifteen: thick ebony curls that danced as she walked and soft brown cheeks covered with freckles. She carried herself differently now though, jutting her chin out defiantly and keeping her back ramrod straight.

Distracted, he almost missed Frank’s reaction until Sirius elbowed him in the ribs and whispered, “Mate, Longbottom looks like he’s about to erupt in flames!” Following his gaze, Remus couldn’t help but agree with Sirius’s assessment. Frank Longbottom was red as a tomato, mouth set in a grim line as he resolutely kept his attention on the sorting that had begun and most definitely not on the girl who had been introduced as family.

Remus tried to follow Frank’s lead and pay attention to the sorting, but his mind was racing with the implications of Hermione’s arrival. Why Longbottom? What did Augusta and Frank know? How would this affect their mission?

To Remus’s secret delight, Sirius kept pulling him back to the present by keeping a running commentary under his breath as the first years were engulfed by the sorting hat.

“You see those glasses? There’s no way we haven’t got a Ravenclaw in the making there.”

“Sirius, that’s a ridiculous stereotype,” Remus chided even as his sides shook with laughter.

“I’m just saying, if you had glasses, there’s no way you would have ended up in Gryffindor,” Sirius whispered back. He quickly amended, “Not that I’m not thrilled to have you here! I just think there are certain factors that the Sorting Hat takes into account that they don’t tell us.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Remus murmured, but was cut off when Sirius tugged his sleeve, nodding towards the small boy that had climbed atop the stool.

“Another product of generations of inbreeding. If he’s not a Syltherin, I’ll eat my hat!”

“Sirius, you don’t have a hat,” Remus reminded him.

“I’ll get one,” he replied distractedly, cackling with delight when the Sorting Hat validated him.

“Would you be quiet?” Lily turned around and leaned across the table to glare at them from a few seats down. “Some of us are trying to watch the Sorting!” Squashed between Lily and Marlene, Hermione glanced at them nervously. Remus offered her a subtle smile before turning back to Sirius.

They kept their banter to soft whispers and sly glances through the rest of the Sorting. Yet Sirius couldn’t help himself when the headmaster stood to welcome the students back and signal the start of the feast.

“Which words do you think Dumbledore’s going to start the term with? I’m guessing cattywampus... Yeah. Bet you three chocolate frogs it’s cattywampus,” he smirked at Remus, arching his brow in challenge. 

Slyly, remembering this particular feast well, Remus whispered, “Malarky. And make it five.”

Sirius scoffed, “You’re on, Lupin.”

“To our new students, welcome to Hogwarts, to our old students, welcome back! I won’t keep you from your bangers and mash long. However, before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Bibble! Collywobbles! Bumbershoot! Malarky!”

Sirius’s jaw dropped and he wordlessly dug through his bag for their remaining plunder from the trolley cart. Remus just grinned and tucked into dinner.

 

 

Euphoria bubbled up in Remus’s chest as they made their way back to the dormitory after dinner. James laughingly kept up, teasing him for being so eager to get to bed.

“Here you go again, proving us right at every turn. You are the quintessential grandpa of the group!”

“Shut it, James,” Remus couldn’t help smiling at his friend. “Happy to be back, that’s all.”

“Mhmm happy to be back in your pajamas with your warm cocoa and a good book in our shared dormitory, you mean,” James shot back.

“Well...” Remus quipped, “you lot being around is a not insignificant part of the experience! How else could I possibly reap the fullest enjoyment from my cozy night in without you there to pester me?”

James’s laughter rang through the empty common room as they passed through, knocking into Remus’s side. They made a beeline for the stairs to the boys’ dormitory.

He and James rushed up together, shoulder to shoulder, and burst into their shared room. Remus drew in a deep breath, laughing as they tumbled into their respective beds.

“It is good to be back, you know?” James spoke quietly, with a fondness Remus could understand. In this room, they’d shared so many late-night conversations, secrets, and everyday rituals. It was the first place Remus had experienced unconditional friendship and acceptance.

“Yeah,” Remus murmured, heart clenching. “I know.”

James dug around in his pockets, turning up a handful of Pan Pasands. He tossed a couple to Remus, who carefully unwrapped the sweet Indian candy. Euphemia had always sent treats to school with James, a little taste of home. As he popped one into his mouth, it felt like home to him, too. 

Sirius and Peter wandered up shortly thereafter, looking like cats who’d caught a canary. Remus sat by his trunk, removing the hefty stack of books he’d brought with him this year. James had seen fit to find his toiletry stash but otherwise didn’t believe in unpacking.

“G-guys, you know the new girl?”

“Which one, Peter? There were approximately twenty that got sorted this evening,” Remus snarked even as he felt his heart start to race.

Peter rolled his eyes, “Hermione of course! Longbottom.”

Intrigued, James sat up, “Go on then. Who is she? Did Mr. Longbottom have a torrid affair?” His eyes twinkled, “I can see it now, headline: Tremendously Proper Wizarding Family’s Reputation Falls into Direspute Following Shocking Scandal.”

“Yes!” Peter squeaked. “An affair! That’s completely right. Marlene heard it from Alice who heard it from Frank himself!”

Sirius flopped down on James’s bed and took over, “Apparently she was their secret lovechild. Mr. Longbottom never said a word about it, until Hermione’s mum showed up with her in tow two weeks ago. Said she was tired of parenting—and I quote—‘his absolute terror of a child’ and left her there for the Longbottoms to deal with.”

“Sounds like she could be your kind of girl, Padfoot,” James winked. “Eager to piss off her family and certain to piss off yours.”

“I don’t know. I heard she was a swot, like Remus. She barely left their family library those two weeks,” Peter interjected.

Three heads swiveled to appraise Remus.

“Hmm,” Sirius mused. “Even better. He needs a proper girlfriend, and he’s already ruled out all the girls we already know.”

James nodded enthusiastically, “This is perfect! Even if she isn’t the one for you, Remus, it could be good practice! Asking them out is the hard part. It’s all smooth driving from there.”

Remus cleared his throat, “Smooth sailing. It’s called smooth sailing. Also, we haven't even met the girl yet. I’m not going to ask someone out who I don’t even know. That’s ridiculous.”

Sirius rolled his eyes, “Yes, but you can get to know her over a butterbeer and later—”

“Alright, that’s enough of that,” Remus interrupted, his voice rising in embarrassment. He hadn’t even considered the possibility of his friends trying to pair him off with her. If only they knew the truth of the matter.

 

 

Remus lay in bed for a long while that night, waiting for the telltale snores and even breathing of his three roommates. Once he was certain that he wouldn’t be missed, he crept out of bed, pulling on a jumper and sliding into trousers and shoes before heading down to the common room.

Hermione sat by the fireside, engrossed in a copy of Lest Darkness Fall.

“Doing your research, I see,” Remus observed, taking a seat beside her. She marked her spot and closed the book.

“What took you so long? I’ll have you know we’ve got class in the morning,” the upturned corners of Hermione’s mouth betraying her jibe.

He snorted. “Some of us have three extremely rambunctious roommates intent on throwing—if not the entire school—then at least each others’ lives into chaos.”

“Well, I really do want to get some sleep tonight. Shall we find a private place to talk?” she asked, stretching as she stood.

Remus agreed, and they made their way to the seventh floor.

Notes:

Words are coming a little easier for this chapter! Writing is hard work. Phew.

Hope y'all enjoy! Please feel free to comment—it's really inspiring to write when I see folks reading and enjoying my work!

Chapter Text

“Um, Hermione,” Remus paused as she paced to-and-fro in the corridor. “What exactly are we doing here? As much as I love... Barnabas the Barmy’s tapestry, I feel like we could have found a place to talk a little closer to the common room?”

His mouth slackened as a door appeared out of nowhere, in a part of the castle that they’d already plotted in the Marauders’ Map.

“Come on then,” she smirked, ushering him into a cozy sitting room, complete with a plush velvet couch, woven blankets, and a large corkboard. Remus frowned, tracing his fingers along the dark mahogany of a crowded bookcase.

“What is this place?”

Hermione’s mouth twisted into something like a smile, “It’s known as the Room of Requirement. I’m surprised you boys never found it. It’s said to only appear when someone has a great need for it. Sometimes it’s a bathroom, or a broom cupboard to hide in. We used it for Dumbledore’s Army in Fifth Year, at Dobby’s suggestion.”

She hesitated, continuing, “It was also the location of Rowena Ravenclaw’s diadem. That is, one of the rooms that it’s capable of spawning housed the diadem. And about a thousand other oddities.”

He glanced around in greater appreciation. “So, you wished for... what? A place for us to talk freely? Some interesting touches,” Remus mused, letting himself be engulfed by the couch and its many soft blankets and pillows.

Hermione laughed, “Yeah, that’s the general idea. Obviously, it’s quite good at intuiting the more specific needs and preferences of its users. It’ll be a good place to conduct our research if nothing else.”

Remus smiled back wryly, “I don’t know how I’m going to keep this a secret from the three stooges. I can only imagine the ragers they’d insist upon throwing. Worst of all, they’re going to be incredibly suspicious if they see us disappearing off the map here.”

She shrugged mischievously, “Maybe it’s time it got confiscated.”

“Eventually,” he agreed. "Maybe in sixth year. In the meantime, we'll just have to be careful."

Hermione nodded as silence descended upon them.

Twisting his fingers nervously, Remus startled as they spoke at the same time, “So—”

Chucking awkwardly, Remus motioned for her to go on.

“I suppose we should really talk about the elephant in the room. Or rather, the immortal being that’s probably not in the room?”

Remus opened his mouth to respond but found himself unable to speak. He tried again, screwing up his face in concentration. Hermione tried as well, grasping what he was attempting to say.

“That’s... an interesting development,” Hermione spoke slowly, “If we can’t say their name, perhaps there are further implications of what we’re allowed to disclose in this reality.”

Remus nodded thoughtfully, “Well, why don’t you at least try to catch me up on what I’ve missed. Maybe starting with the new family name?”

She launched into her unfortunate introduction to the Longbottoms, followed by what felt like a love letter to their private library.

 

 

Remus crept up the stairs around four in the morning, slipping quietly through the door to their room. One of the worn floorboards groaned under his step as he padded over to his bed. He winced as Sirius drew back the curtains to his bed, groggily poking his head out.

“Alright, Remus?” he asked, rubbing his eyes.

“Yeah,” Remus smiled reassuringly as he tugged his knit jumper over his head and nudged off his shoes. “Couldn’t sleep, so I took a walk.”

“‘Kay,” Sirius mumbled, letting the curtain fall back into place. “G’night.”

“Night,” Remus smiled, shucking off his trousers and crawling into his own bed. After just one meeting with Hermione, he felt lighter and cautiously optimistic. He had a second chance to prevent his world from crumbling. And he had a partner to do it with: someone of incredible intellect and more importantly, the bravery and strength that he had so often found lacking in himself.

He closed his eyes, wrapped up in the comforting sounds of the dormitory. James had a tendency to murmur bits of nonsense in his sleep and even Peter’s whistling snores had a certain charm. He finally drifted off to sleep, content in the knowledge that the people he had loved most in his life were perfectly, demonstrably alive.

Chapter 4

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Remus settled back into his life at fifteen with surprising ease. It was sometimes difficult not to slip back into their old nicknames prematurely, but Remus had always excelled at thinking before he spoke. Unlike some other blokes in their merry band.

He loved being around them again, Sirius and James. Their energy was as infectious as he remembered. Always up to something, whether it was flirting with every girl that they crossed paths with, plotting to ally themselves with the giant squid, or begging Remus and Peter to come toss a quaffle around on the weekends.

He felt awkward and conflicted around Peter, this boy who had once grown into a murderer and a coward. But at fifteen, Peter was nervous and sweet, conspiring with James and Sirius to become illegal animagi to ease Remus’s transformation. They all thought they were doing a bang-up job of keeping it secret, heads bowed over the same Transfiguration texts and sneaking off in the middle of the night without him.

Just days before, Remus had come back from the hospital wing to find them alternating between falling into uncharacteristic silence and over-enunciating (poorly) to make up for the mandrake leaves they were keeping under their tongues from one full moon to the next. Remus let them believe they were pulling one over on him.

Remus glanced over at them in the Transfiguration classroom, fumbling through the incantation Professor McGonagall was teaching. He hid a smirk. It wasn’t easy to cast verbally with a large leaf under your tongue.

He let his mind wander again, McGonagall’s crisp voice fading into the background as he considered another steadfast friend: Lily.

They’d always been close, but fifth year was when they started prefect duties together. As it turned out, wandering the halls at night looking for miscreants (and definitely not your own dear friends) leaves a lot of time to just... talk. He’d missed her dry wit and her unfailing kindness.

When she had gently pulled his secret from him in fourth year, it had been something of a relief. Remus allowed himself to be drawn into the memory.

“Remus, there’s something I want to ask you,” Lily said carefully, picking at the grass where they lay on the grounds. “And I don’t want you to feel like you have to answer. But you can. This wouldn’t change anything for me.”

“What is it, Lils?” He asked, heart beginning to thud. There were several directions this could go—none of them good. 

“Well, you know that Dorcas and I are close,” she began, splitting a leaf blade in half and then quarters: neat, long slices. Remus frowned in confusion. This wasn’t where he had expected the conversation to go.

“Yes,” he said slowly. “Since first year.”

“Mm,” she agreed. “I try to keep track of Jewish holidays, so that I can help her celebrate. Hogwarts is awfully Christian-aligned for a ‘non-secular’ school. Anyways, she was explaining to me how the Jewish calendar works and why it doesn’t quite line up with ours.” She took a deep breath. “As it turns out, holidays that appear to ‘shift’ year-to-year to us are actually very predictable. They always fall on the same dates on the Jewish calendar.”

“Okay, sure,” Remus said, picking his own blade of grass to fiddle with.

“I thought that was fascinating.” Lily continued doggedly, “But then over time, I started to notice that your absences coincided with certain Jewish holidays, which was... strange, especially when I thought back to prior years at school. You’ve never been here for Purim or Sukkot, even though we always asked if you wanted to join us. I wondered why, and then as I was sitting in Astronomy class, it hit me. The Jewish calendar is primarily lunar, with each month beginning on the new moon. The full moon falls in the middle of each month like clockwork. So do Purim and Sukkot—they’re always smack dab in the middle of the month. Around the full moon.”

She looked at him pointedly, leaving an opening in the conversation. His heart plummeted, even as he tried to keep his expression calm and collected. There was still a chance she didn’t know, although that chance did seem to be rapidly shrinking.

Lily sighed, reaching out to squeeze him gently, “Remus, it’s okay. If you are a werewolf. One night a month doesn’t negate all the good I’ve seen in you. And I’m not going anywhere. Dorcas wouldn’t either, if you told her.”

The smile that spread across his face in that moment was mirrored in the present, as he was pulled back to the Transfiguration classroom by a sharp jab in his side. He elbowed Hermione right back, eliciting a huff of laughter.

Between prefect duties, coercing his friends into doing their essays, and letting himself get caught up in their machinations, Remus stole away to meet Hermione in secret. They poured over texts borrowed from the library and bounced ideas off each other in stolen moments during quidditch practice or other times he wasn’t likely to be missed.

They’d also partnered with each other for Transfiguration. While the subject was something Remus and Hermione were both achingly familiar with having taken this class before, they went through the motions anyway. He tried to re-focus on Professor McGonagall’s instructions but flushed as he caught James’s eye from across the room.

His friends took great pleasure in teasing Remus about his budding friendship with Hermione.

“Think they’ll lay off anytime soon?” she asked, hiding a smile as James winked at them and nudged Sirius. The boys both smirked at them like the ghouls they were.

“Don’t even,” he snorted. “You encourage them.”

“What on earth do you mean?” She asked, casually placing her hand on his to correct a wand movement.

Remus choked back a laugh and whispered, “That! That’s what I mean. You do it on purpose.”

“That’s ridiculous,” she smiled, lips curving into a smile that could be interpreted as flirtatious if you were observing from a distance.

“Stop it,” he muttered, but couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re incorrigible.” 

She hummed and turned away, eyes still dancing with mischief. Remus knew that he’d be subjected to another one of James and Sirius’s dramatic reenactments in the halls between classes. He sighed in resignation. He couldn’t really blame her for playing along. He’d be the butt of a thousand jokes if it meant seeing his friends like this: so unbelievably young and carefree.

 

 

One fine day in late October, the students had come to a collective understanding that this might be their last weekend where lying about on the grounds was actually comfortable. They’d flocked to the sloping lawns between the castle and Forbidden Forest.

Remus was experiencing something close to euphoria as he sprawled out on a blanket they’d stolen from their dormitory and laid out on the grass, enlarging it to fit four adolescent boys.

He lay flat on his stomach, head turned to rest on the tops of his spindly hands. Sirius had seized his low back as a pillow, stretching out at a right angle from Remus and propping his feet in James’s lap. Peter, at loose ends, had picked up Remus’s abandoned book and was thumbing through it.

“R-Remus, what’s an ‘Edda’?” he asked, scrutinizing the cover.

Remus murmured, “There are two Edda really. They’re 13th-century collections of poetry or prose on Norse legends. They catalogue the exploits of mythological figures; gods, heroes, and the creation of the world according to North Germanic peoples—”

Sirius yawned, the bastard.

“They’re stories,” Remus finished wryly. “Wildly fanciful ones at that.”

“Here’s a thought,” James cut in with a smirk, “I see a fine-looking bird sitting all alone over there. A proper swot, too. I bet she’d like you to read her some poetry, the language of love.” He waggled his eyebrows for emphasis.

Remus lifted his head with great effort and followed James’s gaze across the field to Hermione. She sat alone on a rock overhanging the lake, reading from her own book. Her thick, windswept curls had caught a bit of breeze and her warm, umber complexion soaked up the afternoon sunlight. He smiled and laid his head back down.

“I reckon she’s already read it. Anyways, I’m not moving. This great lump would never forgive me.”

Sirius hummed appreciatively, wriggling a little like a content puppy. His breathing soon evened out as he dozed in the afternoon sun. Letting out a deep, contented breath, Remus glanced back over at Hermione. She’d set aside her book and appeared tentative but pleased to have been joined by Lily and Marlene. He smiled and closed his eyes.

Notes:

Special shout-out to my friends Samantha and Sarah for their help with this chapter!

Ace

Chapter 5

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

In the months since the start of term, their hideout in the Room of Requirement had grown. Not literally... probably. But it had developed a worn-in quality that they both appreciated and curated with little touches. Remus left a jumper or two there, just in case he got cold. Hermione’s knitting needles and a monstrous ball of yarn had found a permanent place by the fireplace. Remus stockpiled a hoard of chocolate, sagely proclaiming it “emergency rations.”

Their research was coming along, too. The corkboard had quickly reached capacity, with hastily scribbled lists pinned to it like “Methods of Horcrux Destruction”, “Original Timeline”, and “Consequences of Altering Reality.”

When it came down to it, Remus and Hermione were both academics. When confronted with a problem, they would always seek help in the library first. They were grateful for the extra time they’d been granted, having come this far back. There was plenty of time for revision, so to speak.

Hermione squeaked in excitement, bent over a thick tome.

“What’d you find?” Remus asked, glancing up from his text. She blinked up at him owlishly, grasping for a bookmark.

“Okay,” she exhaled, setting it aside. “I finally found one—the only other recorded instance I’ve seen of someone going back in time and inhabiting their body from that time period.”

“You’re kidding,” Remus leaned forward in interest.

“Nope,” she shook her head. “Jadis Edman lived in the thirteenth century. She was fifty when she traveled through time. But she jumped so far back that, for all intents and purposes, she became a child again. Her memories remained intact, but her body and mind were that of her ten-year-old self."

“Blimey,” Remus muttered. “That certainly sounds familiar. I honestly feel fifteen again. The emotions, the thoughts, oh god, the hormones.”

“I think you are fifteen again,” Hermione said drily. “For better or for worse.” Remus grimaced, thankful that he had his memories to help balance him.

Hermione continued, “Obviously it’s a much smaller gap for me: nineteen to fifteen. But it’s still been jarring to return to this body...” She trailed off, thinking of how untouched it was. She absently rubbed her arm where Bellatrix had once carved Mudblood into delicate flesh.

“So what happened to her?” Remus asked, clarifying, “Jadis, I mean.”

“Oh,” Hermione frowned. “She actually died two years after traveling back through time.”

Remus sighed, “Well that’s... less helpful than I was hoping. But it’s still better than nothing.”

“It means we’re not the first,” Hermione agreed. They fell into a comfortable silence, reluctant to get back to work.

“Shall we call it for the day?” Remus asked uncertainly, glancing at the clock. He estimated they had about half an hour before the rest of the Marauders came back from Hogsmeade. They’d undoubtedly try to track him down.

It had been a herculean effort in and of itself to convince them to leave him to sleep in that morning. No matter how many times Sirius and James belted “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart” at each other, Remus had refused to extricate himself from his tangle of blankets. Eventually, Peter had taken pity on him and shepherded them out.

“I suppose,” she conceded, shifting in her velvet armchair. Neither of them moved to leave, although he did stretch out on the sofa, his joints letting out an audible crack that sounded throughout the room.

“So how was it?” she asked, “I assume this was the first time they joined you?”

“Yeah, first transformation with all of them. They loved it, of course. Romping about the forest with a werewolf. Perfectly normal activity for three teenage boys.” He shook his head fondly. “Sirius and I howled at the moon together if you can believe it. He was always so pleased that his Animagus form was canine.”

She nodded. “I assume the nicknames are back then? It’s been strange not hearing you call him Padfoot.”

Remus grinned, “Yeah. They’ve all settled on theirs based on their animagus forms. It’s only a matter of time before they bestow upon me the most obvious and horrid nickname they could think of.”

Hermione tittered, “You love it. You absolutely love it, you great big liar.” He laughed and didn't deny it.

“So are you staying here for hols?” he asked.

Hermione shrugged with a half-smile, “I have a feeling I wouldn’t be particularly welcome at ‘home.’ Besides, if I stay here, perhaps I can soften up Madam Pince. See about gaining lawful access to some of the Restricted Section.”

Remus chuckled, “Due to my association with certain malefactors, I can’t really offer you any advice. But even Lily tells me it’s nigh impossible to get in her good graces. All it takes is an ill-timed sneeze, and you’re on her blacklist forever.”

Hermione sighed, “Well, it was a thought. Are you going home? Or visiting the Potters maybe?”

Remus smiled softly, “Home. Might join them after Christmas, but home first. My mam always makes us attend Plygain on Christmas morning. It’s bloody awful, getting up at three in the morning to attend a service. But afterwards, there’s pretty much a full day of feasting and drinking. It’s wonderful.”

She laughed, “Well, have a drink for me. That sounds incredible, if a bit overwhelming.”

“You basically take two days to recover afterwards,” he agreed wryly. Hermione giggled, and he couldn’t help but join in. Her laughter was infectious.

“It’s nice getting to know you better,” she said, still smiling at him. “I always sort of wondered—if the circumstances were different, would we have become friends?”

“Yeah,” he said, cocking his head. “It’s obviously still strange—having these memories of being your professor. But I do feel like, at least in these circumstances, friendship is almost inevitable.”

“You might be right,” she hummed, leaning in to whisper conspiratorially. “To be honest, though, I much prefer you at fifteen.”

At his affronted glare, she continued smugly, “Much more relatable. And I have a feeling—a bit of a disaster.”

Notes:

Plygain is a traditional Welsh Christmas service that takes place in a church between three and six o'clock in the morning, traditionally on Christmas morning.

And the song referenced is of course The Loco-Motion by Grand Funk Railroad.

Update 3/11/2021: I’ve created a Spotify playlist for this fic! You can follow along with the music if you want. http://linktr.ee/gayfiction

Chapter 6

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Before they knew it, winter had thawed into spring. Remus felt unsettled by how quickly time was passing. Soon, they’d be celebrating his 'sixteenth' birthday. And after that was Easter break. 

Standing there on the lawns, however, he was rather wishing to fast-forward through this bit. 

His adult self had tried not to think too hard about the contentious relationship between Snape and the four of them. It was... uncomfortable. Snape had been an easy target with his sallow skin and house pride. Remus felt ashamed to admit that it’d even been a sort of unifying force for them; dreaming up schemes to prank him, trading barbs, and shit-talking had all brought the Marauders together.

Having experienced so much beyond Hogwarts, he now recognized that, while Snape had undoubtedly fought back and been an ass, they’d been bullies. They were bullies. You can’t have four-against-one and call it even. And yet Remus found himself glued to the spot as James descended upon Snape, twirling his wand maliciously. Having the memories of an adult but the brain of a teenager was... discomfiting. 

“Hey Snivellus!” James shouted, quickly followed by, “ Expelliarmus !” and then “ Impedimenta ” to disarm and trip him. A small crowd gathered around the boys as Snape struggled on the ground, returning fire at James. Remus glanced away uncomfortably, taking a step back into the mass of students.

James laughed mockingly and cast scourgify , filling Snape’s mouth with pink soap bubbles.

“Well, Padfoot, What do you think we should do next?” James asked, tilting his head questioningly.

“Ooh what about—”

Remus tuned out his friend’s suggestion, ashamed at his inability to intervene. He felt like he was a spectator to his own body. Why didn’t he do something? Say something? 

Lily did. She swept in like a hurricane, her cheeks red with fury as she screamed at James, “Leave him alone!” In the moment afforded him by James’s distraction, Snape retaliated with a Cutting Curse, slicing James’s face open. 

Blood dripping down his face, James threw Snape in the air, his scrawny body dangling below his feet and pants on full display. Lily screeched for James to release him, which he finally did. 

But just as quickly as Lily had appeared on the scene, the wind changed again. All it took was one word, and a life-long friendship was well and truly over.

“I don’t need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!”

Remus winced, even having known it was coming. How had he let it get to this point again? He should have done something, put a stop to this madness.

When his eyes refocused, he turned away. He couldn’t bear to see the pain etched across Lily’s face in that moment. Not again. As he fought his way through the crowd, his gaze found Hermione standing in the distance. She jerked her head towards the castle and he quietly slipped away in the aftermath. 

 

 

Safely tucked away in the Room of Requirement, Hermione produced a bottle of firewhisky, pouring them each a glass.

“Where’d that come from?” he lifted an eyebrow at her as she handed him a glass.

“I may or may not have snuck away over Christmas and gotten to know Madam Rosmerta a bit better,” Hermione smirked. “She was willing to bend the law when I volunteered to help her tackle the doxy infestation at her aunt’s house. I guess cleaning out Grimmauld Place had some benefits.”

Remus hummed, taking a sip. He sat back, chewing his bottom lip anxiously as his mind circled back to the events of the afternoon. 

“It’s okay, you know,” she said, eying him carefully, “to not be perfect. Everyone has a weak spot.”

His brow furrowed, gaze fixed on his glass as amber liquid swirled within. 

“It was understandable, before,” he said finally. “It wasn’t right—but we were stupid and so young. And now I’m neither of those things, and I still can’t find the courage to say something—to stand up to them.”

Hermione sighed, leaning back into the cushions. “Okay not to be a complete dick about it, but are we sure we can’t just let this whole thing go? Like, Snape is and continues to be a huge asshole.”

He choked, looking up at her in surprise.

“I’m sorry,” she continued. “But seriously—the man was a literal Death Eater. He only ‘changed sides’ to save Lily. Besides, you heard him today. To call someone that... just because we’re in the wizarding world doesn’t lessen the effect of racism. Which is what it is! You don’t get to call someone that sort of slur and brush it off as a ‘slip of the tongue’ or something you didn’t mean. It’s reprehensible.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry, Remus said with a grimace.

Hermione shook her head, not yet finished. “And he bullied children for years! Personally, I’m not going to lose any sleep if you never say a word, and James continues to hex him in the corridors or Sirius calls him a cunt.”

“Hermione—” Remus sat forward, lines wrinkling his forehead. He knew she spoke the truth, but he still wasn’t sure that it excused his inaction.“No,” she shot back. “You weren’t there, Remus. You don’t—you didn’t see him with Harry. With Neville! It was awful.” She shivered. “Besides, even if you did make it your personal mission to end the feud, you really think they’d stop? Him or James and Sirius? Your boys would just pick fights when you weren’t around.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “About Harry and Neville.”

She shrugged. “Let’s just make sure they have parents to stick up for them this time, yeah?”

He nodded, draining his glass.

“I’ve been thinking, though—” he paused, shifting in his seat. “What if I do want to change more? I just—what if I don’t want to just go through the motions?”

“You mean with your friends?”

“Yeah.” He tugged on the hem of his jumper, looking over at her nervously.

“Remus,” she said softly. “You’re not the same person you were twenty years ago. I think you could let that come through more now. Be yourself. Make different choices if you want to. There’s nothing you could do that would change the way they feel about you. You know that, right?”

He huffed and glanced down awkwardly.

“Remus, you may as well have hung the moon—no pun intended—for how they look at you. I’ve never seen such devotion. I genuinely think if you told them you’d killed someone, they’d say ‘Okay, where’s the body?’ They are that ride or die.”

He laughed, scrubbing his face. “Fuck. You’re probably right. Let’s hope it never comes to that.”

“A frightening thought indeed.” Her lips twitched.

As they settled further into the couch, chatting softly, Remus felt the pressure in his chest ease a little more.

Notes:

Hoping to wrap up fifth year next week! Leave a comment and make my day! xo Ace

Chapter 7

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The Hogwarts Express pulled up to Platform 9 3/4 and opened its doors with a whoosh. Students streamed off the train, eager to reunite with their families for the summer.

The Marauders were more reluctant to leave their compartment, let alone the train. Sirius was tangled up in Remus and James. The three boys had squashed together on one side with Peter sitting across from them. Sirius had spent the train ride with his head in Remus’s lap, their fingers woven together and resting on his chest, and his feet propped up on the wall, trapping James underneath.

As the hallway outside their compartment began to quiet, Peter stood and stretched out his back. “We should really get going, huh lads?”

“The train won’t leave with us still on it, Wormtail,” James laughed, clearly trying not to rush Sirius. “Although I suppose my parents will start to worry if we never get off.”

Sirius untangled their fingers and sat up on the bench, uncharacteristically silent. Remus felt his heart ache in sympathy. This would be a difficult summer for his friend.

James filled in the space left behind with idle chatter about his summer plans. It seemed to work as he was able to tease a small smile from Sirius. Remus hauled his heavy trunk down from overhead and the four of them squeezed into the hallway with their luggage. Sirius, at the front, stopped short.

“Brother, I see you continue to debase yourself with these...people.”

Remus sighed, recognizing Regulus’s haughty tone. Sirius stiffened, all traces of the smile vanishing from his face, as his younger brother emerged from an empty compartment. Regulus had always been small, the sort of boy who could slip through a crowd without anyone noticing. 

“Watch your mouth, dickhead. Each of my friends is twice the man you could ever hope to be,” Sirius bit back, his lips curling into a sneer. 

“Yes, you’ve always made that unimaginably clear,” Regulus laughed, the sound sharp and tinged with bitterness. “I sometimes wonder why you bother coming home at all.”

“You know, I ask myself the same question,” Sirius growled, “every time I see your miserable face.”

“Alright, why don’t we take a step back,” James cut in hastily before Regulus could snap back with a retort. “I know family has a way of getting under each other’s skin like no one else. But you two have got the whole summer ahead of you. Wouldn’t it be better to try and get along?” When both boys turned to glare at him in disbelief, he amended, “Peacefully coexist?”

“There’s no peace when Sirius is at home,” Regulus muttered darkly, but he did turn away and continue down the corridor. James clasped a comforting hand to Sirius’s shoulder as they waited for Regulus to exit the train before following.

The boys said their goodbyes just outside of the train, peeling off one-by-one to find their families: first Peter and then James. Finally, just Remus and Sirius remained, lingering by the carriage. 

“Are you going to be okay?” Remus asked quietly. Sirius grimaced, casting a miserable glance at where his parents and brother waited across the thinning crowd.

“I’ll be fine,” he finally nodded. His lips tugged into a smile as he glanced up at Remus. “Worried about me, Moony?”

“Never,” Remus scoffed, knocking their shoulders together. “That’s ridiculous, Padfoot. Surely you know me better than that. Me? Worry? Ha!”

“What was I thinking?” Sirius teased, pulling Remus closer and wrapping his arms around the taller boy’s middle. Remus squeezed back with the strength of every unspoken reassurance he wished he could offer. Sirius would get through this.


 

Heart pounding, Remus wanted to throttle whomever had invented “jogging” as a form of exercise. It was bloody awful. He’d been building up his endurance slowly over the past couple of weeks, but his chest still burned and his mouth felt dry as sawdust. This hadn’t been precisely how he’d envisioned his summer break, but Hermione had insisted they get a jump on the athletic training they’d planned for their next year at school.

He was nearly back to the cottage now, his pace slowing on the country lane. Just a quarter mile left. Remus focused on steadying his breath, puffing rhythmically along with the thump of his feet on packed dirt.

By the time he limped through the front door, he was drenched in sweat and his legs felt alarmingly like jelly. He chugged two glasses of water and hopped through the shower. As water flooded over his skin, Remus tried to clear his mind of the dread that had filled it all summer. Fixating on what lay ahead wouldn’t change anything. All he could do was make the most of the time they had together. Here and now.

He dried off and wrapped a towel around his hips before padding down the hall into his room. He stepped into a pair of ratty jeans and a well-worn jumper, picking up a large, floppy hat as an afterthought. 

Finally, he grabbed a notepad and pen, and made his way to the garden. His mam was already nestled among the herbs, rooting around in the dirt for weeds. He greeted her cheerily and plopped down under the shade of a sycamore tree.

Remus rested against the trunk and began responding to the letters that had piled up from his friends over the summer holidays thus far.

James had scored tickets to a match, the Ballycastle Bats vs. Puddlemere United, and was hoping to convince them all to join him. Remus politely declined; the only games he attended were either under extreme duress or to support James and Sirius. There had also been the notable exception of the house cup in fourth year when Professor McGonagall had called on him to fill the role of announcer. His droll remarks had not gotten him invited back.

Peter had discovered the Muggle cinema and wrote enthusiastically about The Omen, which he’d gone to see three times. Remus wrote back with suggestions of other films he might like, if he could convince his mother to buy a television set.

Lily had sent a postcard from Greece through the regular post. If he read between the lines, she seemed to be having a bit of a summer fling with a local. Remus asked her to get some sun on his behalf; Merlin knew they both could use it.

Hermione had written several short missives, mostly badgering him to stick with the daily runs. She had apparently also found an exceptional ramen shop, which she promised to take him to later that summer when he visited. He rolled his eyes and scrawled, “You’re a menace. Are you trying to kill me? If I survive until then, you’re buying me dinner.”

Sirius hadn’t written, but that wasn’t surprising. His family likely had him under house arrest with nothing in, nothing out. Remus made a mental note to pen some extra long letters later in the summer, when Sirius left Grimmauld Place for good, to make up for lost time.

He set aside his notebook as Hope joined him in the shade. She wore a large sun hat as well, fastened securely underneath her chin. Even as her health continued to decline, she was beautiful. She smiled at him contentedly,

“Will we be seeing the boys later this summer, then?” she nodded at the letters he’d been re-reading.

Remus shook his head, teasing, “Don’t let them fool you. They’ll charm you all day long with that posh, good-boy act, and then they’ll make off with your ‘herbal remedies’ in the night.”

Hope laughed, “Don’t I know it!”

She leveled her gaze upon him, “And don’t think I haven’t noticed you doing the same since you were fourteen, young man.”

Laughing, he shot his arms up, “I’ve been framed! I’m innocent!” Hope swatted him good-naturedly before settling down into the grass, laying her head on his leg.

They relaxed by the garden the rest of the afternoon, chatting and dozing off intermittently. Remus sleepily pondered how he’d been so lucky to have such a mother. Someone he could really talk to and laugh with. She was extraordinary. She couldn’t have known what her life would become, when she married a man with a twisted stick that could turn pine cones into porcupines. And yet she’d loved them both so fiercely, even when Remus had been bitten. Maybe especially then.

Remus’s father took a more... hands-off approach. For years, he’d fixated on finding a cure for lycanthropy. He’d dragged Remus and Hope to countless witchdoctors, quacks, and mystics. If he felt affection towards Remus, that had been the form it’d taken. Once his leads on magic cures had dried up, however, Lyall slowly withdrew from his son. They exchanged stilted niceties at the dinner table with Hope’s watchful eyes fixed on them both. Otherwise, he disappeared into his work.

In his past life, Remus had never been able to recover his relationship with his father. And without Hope to anchor them, there had been no cause to mend it. He couldn’t imagine that it would be any different this time.

Notes:

I think we'll pivot to Hermione next chapter! See what she's getting up to in London. Any guesses?

Chapter 8

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Her room in Longbottom House was spacious—larger than any room she’d lived in before. Its antique hardwood floors felt like they might swallow her whole if she lingered in one spot for too long. Hermione idly wondered if this had been Neville’s room. How lonely it must have been to grow up here with just his grandmother. Her heart fell at the thought. 

She glanced up at the ornate clock that hung on the opposite wall. Its incessant ticking echoed through the room at all hours, yet she didn’t feel comfortable asking to remove it. 

She sighed in relief. Only a few more minutes until she could justify leaving without being too early. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she undid the shoestring keeping her curls up. They sprung out before she re-tied the shoestring, gathering her hair up out of her face.

Checking the time again, she shuffled over to the antique wardrobe and straightened her clothes. She should get more. She made a mental note to talk Remus into visiting the shops with her in a few weeks.

On her way out the door, she passed Frank and Alice on their way in. Newly graduated, they’d both started training as Aurors with the Ministry. When they did cross paths, Frank treated her kindly, despite her abrupt and unwelcome appearance in their lives. Hermione could see Neville’s unwavering integrity and sense of justice in them both. She waved tentatively and smiled as she brushed past the couple.

Hermione caught a bus, tapping her foot in anticipation. She made the trek to Hackney four times a week, determined to soak up as much technique as she could during the summer. Irene’s was a small boxing gym, providing a place for both your average woman looking to learn some self-defense and also your more serious female boxer.

On the train ride back from Hogwarts at the start of summer holidays, Hermione had mentioned her intention to find a gym for some classes, preferably boxing, or another martial art. Among the Gryffindor girls in their year, Marlene was both the most adventurous and the only one that lived in London. Hermione really should have predicted that she would jump at the chance to learn something new, even if that something was how to jab, pivot, and tuck your chin.

Over the past month, these classes had become the highlight of Hermione’s week. And Marlene certainly factored into that. Marlene appeared to actually have the confidence that Hermione so often faked. She took the exhaustion, the bruising, and Irene’s critical feedback all in her stride, and Hermione loved her for it. That being said, she was also perpetually late, sliding in next to Hermione when they were well into their warmups.

Today was no exception. As Irene had them jumping rope, Marlene scurried through the front door with an apologetic smile that might have looked contrite if you didn’t know her. She pulled her dark hair back into a sloppy ponytail and jumped in as Irene transitioned them into practicing good form.

“What happened today, McKinnon? Miss your bus again?”

“Ack! My wee brother’s a klepto!” Marlene whispered back, eyes twinkling merrily, “Family intervention for the turnip head.”

Hermione hummed suspiciously as they moved into jabs.

“Hey, this time it’s true. Haru got caught slipping a pack of chewing gum into his pocket at Speedy’s yesterday. Terribly embarrassing for my dad, you know.” She ruined the effect by laughing. Hermione knew by now that Marlene’s dad was a muggle pharmacist.

“Yes, I can tell you’re really broken up about it.” Hermione deadpanned.

As they began partnered work, Marlene re-enacted the confrontation with her own commentary thrown in for good measure. Hermione suppressed her laughter as she aimed for the pads and tried to keep her guard up. Every time she slipped, Marlene slapped her with the mitts and teased her mercilessly.

“Can’t let your guard down, Longbottom! What would Irene say?”

Irene always seemed to appear at just the wrong moment, surveying them both with a grim expression. “Irene would say ‘Get back to work. This isn’t a comedy club.’”

Hermione and Marlene dissolved into a fresh round of giggles, and even Irene’s lips twitched. Hermione suspected she may not be quite the hardass she would have her pupils believe.

After class, they were both sweaty messes, so they hit the communal showers and then grabbed a sandwich nearby.

“Someday, you’re going to get kicked out of class,” Hermione teased, resting her elbows on the small table. She loved coming here, soaking up the inviting atmosphere of the cafe and the joy of having a friend to share it with. 

“I don’t know,” Marlene mused, knocking their feet together playfully under the table. “Irene had her eye on you, I have to say.”

“Lies and slander,” Hermione grinned. “Irene loves me. Do you know why? I’m always on time.”

“Ack! Don’t be a dafty!” she scoffed. “I was the one who made Irene laugh today. She likes it when I keep you on form.”

“Wow,” Hermione drawled. “That was you keeping me on form? That? Nice try, McKinnon.”

They both broke into laughter again, sides aching with mirth.

When they parted ways after lunch, Hermione felt as if the world faded back to grey. Without Marlene’s company or the distraction of class, she could no longer hide from the significance of that day.

As she wandered back towards the bus stop, a window display at a small bakery caught her eye. Impulsively, she bought a slice of cake. Its chocolate frosting felt decadent and rich against her tongue, but bittersweet in its meaning. Walking down Amhurst, she quietly wished Harry a happy birthday.

Notes:

Okay I've been fleshing out some plot and character development in the interim. Getting really hyped about this story!

Chapter 9

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Having recovered from the last full moon of the summer, Remus made his way to London for the remaining two weeks of August. Lyall drove him to Cardiff early one morning, stiffly warning Remus not to go out after dark, to be a conscientious guest, and to avoid temptations of the flesh.

He’d been on a train to Paddington for the past two hours, knotting up the end of his loose jumper with restless fingers. When he disembarked at the station, he was relieved to quickly find Hermione in the crowd. Her corkscrew curls bounced as she jogged up for a shy hug. His trunk dragged behind him, a weighty anchor, all the way back to Longbottom House.

Hermione shook her head as they got off their last bus. “We really need to do something about our trunks. They’re so impractical in Muggle London!”

Remus huffed, his arms aching, “If you’ve got a better idea, I’m all ears.”

She hummed mysteriously and led him into the foyer. Augusta Longbottom, though decades younger than the woman he remembered as Neville’s grandmother, still cut an intimidating figure. She stood imperiously by her husband’s side, her long face pinched in a severe expression. Remus wondered if it was meant to frighten them. 

The Longbottoms formally welcomed him to their home, but otherwise left the teenagers to their own devices. Remus was set up in a spacious guest room down the hall from Hermione’s suite. 

After he’d set down his trunk, Hermione showed him her room. They collapsed on the four-poster bed, feeling surprisingly relieved to be back in each others’ company.

“Alright, what’s the latest? I know for a fact that you’ve been holding out on me in your so-called letters.” Hermione accused with narrowed eyes.

Rolling his eyes, Remus argued, “Well, if you weren’t always badgering me about my runs, maybe I would have written more.” He softened his words, seeing the quiet hurt that flashed across her face. “I mean, I probably should have written more. Honestly, things have been pretty quiet on my end.”

“Same here,” Hermione nodded as her features relaxed. “I’m mostly either in my room or the library. The best part of the week is boxing with Marlene.”

“I’m glad you two are becoming friends,” Remus smiled. He cleared his throat, confiding, “My mam hasn’t been doing well, although you’d never catch her letting on. I pretty much spent the whole summer curled up next to her in the garden.”

She reached down and squeezed his hand gently.

He continued, “Sirius moved in with the Potters a few weeks ago. James said he’s been avoiding the issue, as usual. He just pretends everything is fine, even though his family literally burned him off the family tree.”

“I remember that tapestry,” she murmured, “from when I stayed at Grimmauld Place. He and Andromeda had both been removed from it, along with a handful of others.”

“Andromeda’s a good sort,” Remus nodded. “She was determined to follow her heart, even if it meant being disowned by her family.”

“Do you ever miss it?” Hermione asked in a seeming non-sequitur, rolling over to peer intently at him. “Your life from ‘before’?”

Remus paused, considering. Finally, he said, “It feels like someone else’s life most of the time. I do miss Tonks, but I’ve made my peace with it. Why? Do you miss ‘Hermione Granger’?”

“Sometimes,” Hermione said slowly. “I miss my friends from before. I miss my parents and being able to live honestly. But I’m hopeful, you know? I never could have imagined myself being friends with you or Harry’s parents. It’s surreal. But actually living it... I think ‘Hermione Longbottom’ is growing on me.”

 

 

They spent the week traipsing about London, stopping for a curry or fish and chips when they got hungry. They got lost in the British Museum and the Tate Modern. Remus even wheedled Hermione into skipping their workouts for the rest of the summer break, and instead they stayed up too late and slept until the early afternoon. It was glorious. Hermione’s heart flooded with joy at his companionship. Finally, life at Longbottom House wasn’t quite so lonely.

Hermione did indeed talk Remus into visiting the charity shops with her. It wasn't a hard sell. He helped her pick out what felt like a whole new wardrobe, from bright halter tops to cropped tees that Hermione would have once called retro but were in actuality quite contemporary. He gassed her up so effectively that she found herself modeling little black dresses in Oxfam like it was a fashion runway.

Her allowance from the Longbottoms was more than generous, so she snuck a few items for Remus into her cart. He’d just looked so adorably grunge in the distressed denim jacket and fitted tartan trousers.

To top it off, they found a couple of sturdy duffle bags that Hermione insisted could replace their trunks. Hidden from the prying eyes of the Ministry by the magical protections of the Longbottom family home, Hermione performed an Undetectable Extension Charm on their new bags.

“There,” she sat back with a flourish, “No more lugging that horrid thing around. Your new bag should fit everything you need and also be much lighter.”

“Impressive,” Remus laughed, sticking his arm into the bag with fascination. “That’s a neat bit of charmwork.” He glanced at her teasingly, “Illegal, though.”

Hermione’s cheeks flooded with heat. “The Ministry claims that Extension Charms are so strictly regulated due to possible breaches of the Statute of Secrecy.” She narrowed her eyes, continuing, “But I suspect it’s because maintaining control over the production of approved items puts money in their pockets.”

“Either way,” Remus smirked. “I’m surprised at you, Hermione. I didn’t realize you were such a troublemaker.”

“You really shouldn’t be,” Hermione sniffed, continuing slyly. “I think that’s something we have in common. The swotty exterior is just an illusion.”

 

 

Squeezed into a corner booth together, they giggled at the absurdity of having to forge IDs in order to get a drink at the local pub. Warm both from their proximity and the cheap whisky, secrets slipped through their loosened lips.

“I always rather fancied him,” Hermione sighed. “We were such good friends. But he was such an idiot that I still don’t understand why I liked him.”

“The heart wants what the heart wants,” Remus agreed. “But you did date, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, Ron and I had a very short-lived relationship. We weren’t well-suited at all .”

“No, I can see that,” Remus teased.

“Hey!” she laughed. “I was young. All I knew was that he had freckles and made my heart beat faster. Whether that was primarily due to attraction or irritation is anyone’s guess.”

When Remus hid a smile, She knocked their shoulders together with a laugh. “What about you, then? Surely you had relationships before Tonks?”

“Well, yeah,” Remus shrugged. “Nothing serious, though. I don’t exactly allow people to get close to me.” He fiddled with the coaster under his drink. 

“I’m gay, you know,” he confided. “Well, close enough anyway. Gay with exceptions? Queer for queers?”

Hermione nodded. “I did always wonder. You and Sirius seemed so...”

Remus barked a laugh, “Oh god. You’d think, wouldn’t you? No, he's straight as an arrow.”

He quieted, “I always thought, maybe... But if there was something there, he never acted on it with me. I never even came out to him. He probably knew anyway. James did. But it always went unspoken.”

She draped her arm around him and squeezed. “I’m sorry, Remus. It must have been hard. Merlin, it must be hard now—I’ll always have your back, you know. If you did want to come out.”

He raised the tumbler to his lips, only to find it drained. Exhaling wearily, he replied, “I’ve certainly thought about it. This is my do-over, right? Make better choices. Or at least different choices. Do the things I said I would do or always wanted to.”

Hermione tapped her index finger musingly, “I know what you mean. There are so many things I’ve been afraid of doing. Or just never got around to. Hold on—what if we made a bucket list?”

He straightened, or tried to, rather, “You mean a list of all the things we want to do before this all goes to shit?”

“Precisely.”

She extracted a pen from her bag and slid a bar napkin between them. An hour later, Hermione slowly read through the list.

“Remus... we’ve just written down a bunch of deviancies! I mean, not entirely. But nearly!”

Remus had dissolved in a puddle of laughter against her shoulder.

“With any luck,” he rasped, “we’re going to be the cretins your parents warned you about. That’s the collective you, mind. Every mother and father’s worst nightmare!”

 

 

The next morning, Hermione let herself into his room and bounced on the bedsprings. Obnoxiously waving a piece of paper in his face, she asked “Ready to get started?”

“No,” Remus groaned, batting her away ineffectually. “I’m still ‘sleep.”

“Not anymore,” she joked. “You’re awake now, aren’t you?”

“Barely.”

“Good enough!” she exclaimed, pulling the covers back and letting the cold morning air wash over him. Much to his disappointment, they did get started that day, beginning with a visit to a piercing shop. 

Well, they walked and talked in circles most of the day as they took turns arguing that it was a terrible idea. But eventually, they did walk through the doors together. They left emboldened, a hoop through Remus’s nose and twin barbells nestled together through Hermione’s left eyebrow. A few small pieces of metal that held the promise of a new attitude toward their lives: a certain wonder at this second chance they’d been granted and a determination to take full advantage of it.

Notes:

Remus and Hermione in London! Let me know in the comments what you thought. 🙃

Cheers,
Ace

Chapter 10

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Hogwarts still evoked the feeling of pulling on a well-loved jumper. They slid back into lock-step with their respective friends while also attempting to juggle classes, homework, and now training. Frankly, it was exhausting.

Hermione had them on a strict exercise schedule. Filled with jargon Remus didn’t always understand, it would be a sight to behold even if it wasn’t colour-coded. They ran most days, but they also rotated through targeted core exercises, flexibility and balance drills, and burpees. So many burpees.

Remus hated it, but not as much as he liked to pretend. Mostly he hated that in order to fit it in, he never got a good lie-in anymore.

Their prescribed meeting times were punishingly early and, of course, always a good five minutes before they were actually scheduled to leave the common room. If Remus failed to meet her, Hermione would flounce up the stairs to their dormitory and rip open the curtains around his bed. Well, she ripped open James’s the first time.

She’d since become well-acquainted with whose bed was located where, even if the occupants occasionally shifted around. It wasn’t uncommon to find Sirius had bed-hopped in the middle of the night, tucking himself into bed next to whichever boy was still awake and available for late-night conversation and cuddles.

The rest of the Marauders had been equal parts appalled and delighted to have Hermione invading their privacy most mornings. On the one hand, it was embarrassing. Well, that was mostly Peter, self-conscious about being seen in or out of his pajamas. Sirius waffled between sulking at being abandoned for hours on end with no sources of entertainment and no friends to speak of (which never failed to elicit an indignant response from James) and joyous support of Remus having a romantic prospect. James tried to take Remus under his wing as a ‘student of the finer techniques of wooing a lady.’ 

He was not successful. Being gay did rather get in the way of that. And even if Remus were more interested in women, he didn’t think he would ever see Hermione that way—the memories of being her professor in a different lifetime hovered too close to the surface.

While Remus hadn’t confirmed or denied a thing, that silence in and of itself had rather validated their suspicions. He was assumed to just be too shy or too gentlemanly to kiss and tell. Remus justified the misunderstanding with the fact that it made both of their lives easier. It was simply assumed that he and Hermione would sequester themselves for hours at a time, even without the excuse of a morning run.

On this particular morning, Hermione dragged him away from his bed and a sleepy Sirius. Grumbling, Remus stumbled through the motions of changing out his T-shirt and slipping into joggers. He grabbed his shoulder bag, stuffing his school uniform into it for later along with a book wrapped in a brown paper sack.

“Moony, where are you going?” Sirius whined, sticking his head out from the curtains that wrapped around the bed. “Come back to bed. It’s cold in here without you.”

Remus laughed quietly, taking a moment to sit on the mattress next to him. Hermione had returned to her dormitory for her forgotten bag, so he had a few minutes to spare.

“You’ll warm up,” Remus smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Sirius shook his head beseechingly, his rumpled hair spread out across the pillow.

“I’ll never be warm again,” he moaned. “I can’t go on with you, my darling. Remember me fondly.”

“Quit your yapping,” James called from his bed. “Some of us are still trying to sleep.”

“Prongs, I can’t,” Sirius huffed. “Moony’s leaving me again.”

“Should’ve slept with me instead,” James yawned. “Moony’s whipped. Never thought I’d see the day that he willingly woke up before dawn every morning, but I guess that’s what love does to you.”

“Don’t worry, Prongs, you’ll find out someday,” Remus said drily, ripping the duvet off Sirius.

“What the hell, Moony!” Sirius gasped, grasping for the covers.

“No you don’t,” Remus said firmly as he gently extracted his friend. “You’ll be much happier with James.”

“C’mere, Pads,” James said sleepily as he rolled over to make room on the single bed. Remus smiled as Sirius shuffled across the room and flopped into bed next to James.

“See you at breakfast,” Remus chuckled on his way out the door. He took the stairs down at a jog, meeting up with Hermione in the common room. They made their way to the quidditch pitch at a brisk walk, dropping their bags at its perimeter.

As they made their first lap around the pitch, Remus fell into their usual routine of half-hearted protests.

“Surely you’d rather take today off,” he puffed. “We could call it right now. Crawl right back into bed.”

Veering slightly into his path to knock him off course, Hermione rolled her eyes. Well, he didn’t see her roll her eyes. But he knew she had.

“And just why would we do that?”

“Well, I have it on good authority that it’s your birthday.”

Her steps faltered and she glanced over, frowning. “And how did you know that?”

He pivoted, running sideways in order to smirk at her. “Surely you’re aware that Lily and Marlene are planning some sort of jamboree to commemorate your seventeenth.”

“Jamboree? What are you, eighty-five?”

"Only in my heart!" He joked, sticking his tongue out cheekily. "But I hear someone is going to be twenty."

"That's not how it works," she grumbled. "I'm still stuck at seventeen."

 

 

Before they parted ways at the quidditch changing rooms, Remus rummaged through his shoulder bag. “Hang on a mo'. I’ve got your present with me. Thought you might like it early.”

He pulled out the brown paper bag he had stowed earlier that morning and thrust it towards her. Leaning back on his heels, Remus bit his bottom lip in barely contained amusement.

Hermione pulled out a hardcover book with an unassuming, nondescript dustjacket. Flipping through the pages, she nearly dropped it in surprise.

“Remus Lupin,” she hissed, heat flooding her cheeks. “Is this a sex book?”

Remus laughed, a self-satisfied grin stretching across his face.

She leaned in threateningly, “What I said that night... I thought we agreed not to speak of it again.”

“Well, I never agreed to that! Besides, getting you laid definitely went on the bucket list. It was right at the top, too, along with—”

She swatted him with the book and he changed tacks. “It’s quite comprehensive. There are even some diagrams you might like. Very practical.”

Still blushing furiously, Hermione secreted it away in her bag. “Fine. That was very... thoughtful of you. I suppose. But also, fuck you, you absolute tosser.”

He chuckled fondly, “Happy Birthday, Hermione.”

Notes:

And we're onto sixth year! Lots in store for our bbs. I'm going to try and move the main plot forward next time, but I do want to circle back to a more Hermione focused chapter soon.

As always, please comment if you're enjoying! Shout out to @WintersGreen for their comment. Really made my day. 💜

Chapter 11

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

After a year of planning, Remus and Hermione finally embarked on their first task. It would be a test of sorts. If they could accomplish this, then maybe, just maybe, they could bring the whole plan to fruition.

Within the first task, they had drafted a list of sub-tasks. For much of that autumn, they sat on their hands, waiting for the right opportunity. Finally, on a Hogsmeade weekend, Dumbledore left the castle.

Remus had taken possession of the map after their last prank, claiming that someone needed to bring the rest of the Marauders to heel—at least until the incident was forgotten. Best to let it blow over while they lay low.

Now, he and Hermione carefully consulted the map as they made their way to the Headmaster’s Tower. Nearly there, they ducked into an alcove together and Hermione brought forth a glass vial.

“I wish you could go with me,” she grumbled.

“Me, too,” he squeezed her arm. “Really is a shame it only works on humans.”

A pained look cut across her face. “Remus you are human. I don’t care what—”

He cut her off, “Well, it’s rather a moot point in this case. Werewolves can’t take Polyjuice.”

“I know, I know,” she grimaced. “Okay, bottoms up.”

She doubled over in pain as her body rapidly morphed into that of one of the fifth year girls. Remus clapped her on the shoulder as she stood.

“Ready?”

She nodded faintly.

“Okay, I’ll be waiting here, ready to intercept if anyone comes this way.”

Hermione correctly guessed the password (Dumbledore had apparently been a connoisseur of sherbert lemons for many years), climbed the stairs, turned her back on the portraits, and extracted two of her memories for the Pensieve.

She was back within fifteen minutes. They lurked in the hidden alcove until the potion wore off and Hermione’s features returned before heading back to the Room of Requirement.

Remus and Hermione collapsed on the sofa, their backs leaned against the arms of the couch and their legs tangled together in the middle. Remus unwrapped a chocolate bar, offering her half of it. 

“Well, that’s the first bit down,” Hermione sighed, breaking off a piece to nibble on.

“Do you think you got it?” Remus asked nervously. He popped a bit of chocolate into his mouth and tucked the rest of the bar away.

She laughed shortly, “Christ...I don’t know. From what I recall, Ron literally gargled at it. How could that have worked? The only explanation I can think of is that the password isn’t in Parseltongue, per se, but rather it’s a series of sounds that happen to correspond to the Parseltongue phrase 'open up.'”

She shook her head in exasperation. “Regardless, let’s hope I’m as good a mimic as Ron was. I re-watched the memories of both him and Harry saying it about ten times each.”

“If anyone can do it, it’ll be you,” Remus nudged his feet against hers with an encouraging smile. Hermione took another bite of chocolate and hoped he was right.

 

 

Several weeks later, they stole away when everyone else was headed to bed, equipped with the map and James’s cloak. James had been more than happy to assist Remus with a ‘nighttime rendezvous.’

As Remus clutched an irate rooster to his chest in the pumpkin patch, he rather wished the evening was more aligned with what James had envisioned. He shushed the bird nervously as Hermione swept the cloak over them.

They awkwardly made their way back to the castle and then to the second-floor girls’ lavatory, just as gloomy and neglected as Hermione had described. Thankfully the mirror she’d stashed there earlier that day was still leaning against the derelict stall. An ornate gold monstrosity she had found in the Room of Hidden Things, it was perfect for their purposes: large but able to be held aloft by a sturdy teenage girl.

Remus was relieved to be free of the cloak, which he always had to crouch under in order to successfully hide his gangly body. Unfortunately, he was stuck cradling the rooster as he slumped against the grimy wall, while Hermione tried to produce the unfamiliar syllables. Eventually, the engraved snake on the tap writhed, triggering the entrance to open.

Hermione hoisted the mirror up and they made their way into the Chamber of Secrets with no small amount of trepidation. Neither of them had seen a live basilisk before, let alone tried to kill one. That’s where their friend the cockerel came in.

When the chamber had been opened in 1992, Ginny had slain every rooster on the grounds. Thankfully, the basilisk didn’t have that kind of advantage this time. One rooster’s crow, and it would perish as instantly as those subjected to its direct gaze.

They edged past the towering pillars of carved snakes, pausing close to the statue of Salazar Slytherin, where the basilisk was said to reside. It had clearly sensed their presence, because the rough slide of scale against scale echoed around them. It was uncoiling and making its way out.

“Okay, anytime now,” Remus muttered, holding the bird out. Not a peep. The heretofore squawking creature was silent as the grave. It twisted its head back and stared accusingly at Remus with one beady eye, its red wattle quivering with indignation.

“Christ on a cracker,” he groaned.

Hermione nodded with determination. “Okay, plan B it is.”

She darted out with the mirror lifted high, keeping her eyes trained on the floor lest she meet the basilisk’s gaze. Of course, the rooster would choose that moment to kick out and escape Remus’s grasping hands. It flew across the room, temporarily diverting the basilisk’s attention from Hermione.

“Bloody hell,” Remus swore quietly, or so he thought. The basilisk turned towards him, lunging with terrifying speed to his hiding place by one of the carvings. For the first time, he was seeing the real-world benefit of their physical fitness regime. He ran like hell, shooting around corners as adrenaline surged through his heart.

He vaguely registered Hermione’s voice as she shouted for him to keep his eyes down, and then her aggressively hurled insults as she tried to reassert herself as the main threat. It worked.

The basilisk turned its yellow eyes to her, and its gaze met the reflective surface of the gaudy mirror. Its body stilled instantaneously, petrified like the luckier of its victims.

“REMUS,” Hermione screamed. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he panted, chest heaving as his heart worked double time. “I’m fine.”

The rooster crowed, and their knees buckled as they fell to the wet stone in delirious, raucous laughter. It was dead.

Once they recovered their senses, they carefully collected its venom in little vials that they would store in the Room of Requirement until graduation.

Remus wrapped an arm around Hermione’s shoulders, tugging her against his side as they trudged through the corridor.

“You’re an absolute wonder, you know.”

“I know,” she grinned before forcing him to stop and meet her gaze. “We really can do this. Tonight proves that.”

“I don’t know that tonight proves anything about me other than I don’t know shit about chickens,” Remus laughed, deflecting. She raised an eyebrow at him.

“You don’t give yourself nearly enough credit, Remus Lupin. Together, you and I are going to change the course of history. And don’t think for one second that there’s anyone else I’d rather have at my side.”

He melted a little in the face of her unwavering confidence. “Okay,” he murmured, “let’s get to work.”

Notes:

Whew! That was a fun one to write. What did you think?

I'd seriously love to hear your thoughts. I promise to read & respond to every comment.

Thank you 💜
Ace

Chapter 12

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Feeling buoyed by their success with the basilisk, Hermione allowed herself a mental respite. They still jogged most mornings and snuck away for magical combat practice, but she felt the ever-present tension in her shoulders ease just a little. Outside of training, acquiring that venom had been their primary objective for sixth year.

She’d been pleasantly surprised by the friendships she had formed over the last year. She’d always felt that she and Remus could be kindred spirits, but the reality was far beyond what she imagined. They were so often on the same wavelength, and not just because they were both total nerds. Hermione felt her guard dropping more and more around him, and vice versa.

And then there were her roommates: Lily, Marlene, Dorcas, and Mary. In the 1990s, Hermione had tended to avoid spending time in her dormitory in order to escape Parvati and Lavender’s girl talk. They had always rubbed her the wrong way, and they clearly felt the same about her. Oil and water, always.

That just wasn’t the case now, and Hermione couldn’t understand why. While they did talk about boys, sometimes incessantly, she didn’t seem to mind. Dorcas presented a no-nonsense front, but she was secretly a romantic. She read trashy books and had a tendency to pine from a distance.

Hermione’s friendship with Lily, at least, made sense; Lily was better-read than just about anyone and exuded the sort of passion that Hermione had often felt growing up.

Mary was a special case. Hermione had never known anyone as sincere and kind; the girls often described her as being “too pure for this world.” And generally, her naivety wasn’t even particularly annoying. Hermione instead found herself determined to protect Mary at all costs.

And then there was Marlene. Gorgeous, brash Marlene. Whereas Dorcas made heart-eyes across the room, if someone caught Marlene’s attention, they’d damn well know it. Simply put, she was a huge flirt.

Hermione was mildly alarmed to find herself falling victim to Marlene’s charms. They had been directed at her quite frequently this year; holding hands between classes, Marlene’s insistence on applying her lip gloss to Hermione’s lips herself, cuddling by the fireplace together. It was... confusing.

Hermione had never considered the possibility that she might like girls before. It was always universally understood that girls were beautiful. But thinking that didn’t mean you wanted to kiss them; it just meant you were human.

But Hermione wasn’t so oblivious that she couldn’t recognize and put a name to the heady sensation that overwhelmed her in Marlene’s presence. That went beyond friendship.

Hermione wondered how much of this she could pin on that stupid book Remus had given her. It was surprisingly comprehensive, especially for the times, given that it included content on gay and lesbian sex. With so much information at her disposal, Hermione found herself questioning her assumed heterosexuality more and more.

To make matters more complicated, Marlene was both almost impossible to read and also hooking up with Sirius.

Hermione worried that she was simply projecting when she got the feeling that Marlene was attracted to her. Behaviors that could be read as flirting could also just as easily be explained away as Marlene being Marlene. She was certainly more demonstrative and free with her affection than any of the other girls.

That night, they were having a bit of a holiday party. Well, Gryffindor house on the whole was having a party. It just so happened that the sixth and seventh years had teamed up to orchestrate the whole affair. Booze was snuck in, mistletoe was hung, and ugly Christmas jumpers were encouraged.

James had taken it upon himself to deck the boys out, claiming they were early Christmas presents. Remus squeezed in next to Hermione on the sofa, looking resigned in his “Too Lit To Quit” jumper. The embroidered Christmas lights even glowed, undoubtedly a handy bit of charmwork that could be attributed to James.

“Enjoying the party?” Remus asked, taking a swig of his firewhisky.

“Immensely,” Hermione returned drily as a piercing laugh cut through the air from behind them.

“Budge over!” Marlene appeared and without giving them any time to accommodate her request, plopped herself down on Hermione's lap instead. She was wearing an oversized jumper that read “When I Think Of You, I Touch My Elf.”

Marlene wound her arms around Hermione’s shoulders and pressed her cheek to her springy curls. “Merry Drunk I’m Christmas,” she slurred happily.

“I can see that,” Hermione’s sides shook with laughter as she tentatively rested her hand on Marlene’s leg.

“Oy! Longbottom! Stop trying to steal my girl,” Sirius admonished with an easy grin as he, too, piled onto the couch. He chose to mirror Marlene by curling up on Remus. Not about to be left out for a second, James materialized out of thin air and clambered onto Sirius, nearly causing them both to topple.

“Oof,” Remus let out a pained groan. “Prongs, you’re about as light as a pile of bricks. Any chance I can convince you to relocate for about ten seconds? I was about to head to bed anyway.”

Twin cries of “Nooooo Moony, stay!” emanated from the two boys, James tucking his chin over Sirius’s shoulder in order to weaponize his legendary puppy dog eyes.

Remus’s resolve wavered for a few seconds, which was all the time required for James and Sirius to extract themselves and him from the couch, pushing him towards the drinks table.

Hermione giggled as she heard James’s booming voice proclaim, “The night is still young, my friends. Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we DIE!”

“Prongs, we’re just going on break. And it’s not even tomorrow! That’s next week.” Remus could be heard laughing.

“Those boys,” she murmured to Marlene, who merely hummed in response.

“Okay, time for bed,” Hermione decided. “Up you go.”

As she tucked Marlene into her bed in the dormitory, Hermione’s heart gave a little tug at the sight of that perfect heart-shaped face squashed against the pillow.

 

 

The next morning, Hermione rose in time for breakfast. While many of their friends slept in, putting off the inevitable effects of a hangover, she and Dorcas wound their way down the tower towards the Great Hall.

Hermione had originally been charmed by the magical portraits that roamed the castle, moving between frames as they pleased. That was until she’d realized how overbearing they could be. 

“Who knew they were so... enthusiastic?” Hermione muttered as they quickened their pace. The portraits had bunched together in a few larger frames, belting out Christmas carols at unsuspecting passersby.

Dorcas shook her head in exasperation. “Just imagine how I feel.”

Hermione frowned and turned to the portraits, “Give it a rest, yeah? Not everyone celebrates Christmas.” Chastened, the portraits shuffled off to other frames.

Dorcas huffed a laugh. “Thanks. It can just be a bit much, you know?”

Hermione hid a smile as one of the portraits began a rendition of “A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love.” 

By the time they reached the Great Hall, Lily was nearly finished with breakfast. She sat alone at the long table, buttering a piece of toast.

“Good morning,” Lily smiled as Hermione plopped down next to her. Dorcas took a seat opposite them and helped herself to a scone. 

“I see you both managed to escape the worst of it,” Hermione laughed, noting Lily’s sparkling eyes and the refreshed glow of Dorcas’s rich brown skin. 

“Somebody had to keep an eye out last night,” Dorcas shook her head. “Potter went a bit overboard, as usual. There was enough alcohol to get a Hippogriff half-cut.”

“Utterly irresponsible. I don’t care how pretty his face is, James Potter is an arrogant toe-rag,” Lily huffed. When Hermione hid a smile, Lily lightly swatted her. “Stop that! Why are you smirking?”

Dorcas caught Hermione’s eye, a smile playing on her patient, rounded face. Her dense curls created a cloud around her head that shook with the rest of her body in silent laughter.

Hermione couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped her and soon both girls were giggling. “I’m sorry, Lils,” Hermione bit out. “It’s just—”

“Lily, it’s not even nine o’clock,” Dorcas finished, reaching to grab a pitcher of orange juice. “Can we not have one single moment of peace?”

Lily flushed bright red. “I don’t know what you mean, Dorcas.”

“She means,” Hermione teased, “that you talk about him all the time! If you really think he’s so awful, maybe you should redirect your energy elsewhere.”

“Maybe I will,” Lily muttered, pale cheeks still burning.

“Lewis couldn’t take his eyes off you the other day,” Dorcas suggested. “Maybe a date to Hogsmeade?”

“Absolutely not,” Lily said as she stood, preparing to flounce off. “I won’t be wasting anymore time on boys, romantic prospects or not. I’ll be in the library.”

“Okay,” Hermione chuckled as Lily turned her back to them and left the Great Hall. She and Dorcas continued to eat and chat over breakfast, conversation flowing easily between them. 

“Are you excited for Christmas—sorry, winter break, then?” Hermione asked, shaking her head at her slip. “Do you have any plans?”

“I always enjoy spending time at home,” Dorcas hummed. “My parents live in Liverpool with my younger sisters. My older brother always comes to visit when I’m home, too.”

“That must be nice,” Hermione smiled softly. “I’ve always wanted a big family.”

“There’s never a dull moment,” Dorcas agreed wryly. “But yes, it is nice. They’re Muggles, so there’s a lot they don’t understand. But they do try.”

“That must have been a bit of a shock, when they found out you were a witch,” Hermione ventured, remembering her own parents. How they had tried so often to send her to bed without her book, tucking it up out of reach on the highest shelf, so that she might actually sleep. Yet when they came to wake her each morning, the confiscated book would be resting open on her chest as she snored softly. 

“Oh yes,” Dorcas laughed. “They still like to tell the story of how I played with the Hanukkah candles before they were lit one year. I must have been about six at the time?” She shook her head at the memory. “They couldn’t put the candles out—they burned all through Hanukkah and the rest of December. Finally, they gave up and threw the candles into the river.”

“No,” Hermione gasped, delighted. Dorcas nodded, a grin spreading across her face. Both girls dissolved into laughter at the story. 

After they had finished breakfast, Dorcas split off to join Lily in the library while Hermione headed back to Gryffindor Tower. She still had a smile on her face, pleased to have spent the morning in Dorcas’s company. 

She stepped through the entrance to the common room and, distracted by the sight of Marlene wrapped up in Sirius’s arms, didn’t watch where she was going. Abruptly, she found her feet glued to the floor. 

Hermione groaned in exasperation, realizing she’d walked under one of the charmed mistletoe sprigs. Glancing around the room, she hoped to find Remus. She felt momentarily relieved to see him sitting next to Marlene and Sirius. But before she could entreat him to assist her, Marlene had noticed her predicament.

She laughed, abandoning Sirius and skipping over.

“Oh, kitten,” she purred. “And you were so careful.”

Hermione flushed, feeling utterly tongue-tied as Marlene slipped her hands under Hermione’s flowing curls and angled her own face up to meet Hermione’s in a brief but wicked kiss. Hermione vaguely registered Sirius cat-calling them.

Marlene withdrew slowly, pausing to meet Hermione’s shell-shocked gaze. Her lips twitched in an impish grin, as she bit her bottom lip. Hermione’s heart took another dive, swooping in joy and terror.

 

 

That night, she mustered up the courage to crawl into Marlene’s bed, resolved to lay her cards out on the table. Working her way up to it, they talked about holiday plans; Hermione was still considering whether or not to return to London for break. Marlene tried to entice her into going home so that they could meet up at the Christmas market.

Finally, Hermione took the plunge. “Listen, Mals. I—”

But Marlene cut her off, “Don’t.”

Her easy smile had been replaced with wide-eyed concern, her forehead wrinkling, “I love you. You’re one of my best friends. Can’t we just leave it at that?”

After an uneasy pause, Hermione recovered herself enough to say, “Of course! Of course we can,” with a pained smile.

“Sorry, I just remembered I’ve left my, err, something downstairs.” She scrambled out of bed.

“Hermione, wait!”

“Just be a mo'!” Hermione slipped from the dormitory and down the stairway.

Remus was there, curled up in an oversized armchair with a book. He took one look at her and set it aside, straightening his legs and opening his arms. She tucked herself up underneath his chin, blinking back tears.

Once she'd calmed, no more hiccups or hitched breath, Remus invited her home for Christmas.

“I want you to meet my mam,” he explained. “Will you come?”

“Of course I will. There’s no one I’d rather meet.”

He tightened his arms around her briefly, and they both found a little something more to look forward to that Christmas.

Notes:

Shout out to @magaera for their comment this morning. They inspired me to whip this new chapter out today!

As always, please comment if you're enjoying this little romp. I certainly am! It's such fun to watch the characters and their relationships grow the more time I spend writing.

Credit to @rhiannonmcgavin on Tumblr for Dorcas’s accidental magic headcanon. And a special thank you to my friend Sarah for her help with this chapter.

xo Ace

Chapter 13

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Remus sat cross-legged on the bed, tapping his quill absently as he labored over a Potions essay. Even as he threw himself into the work, he wondered why he was bothering. He’d taken these classes and written these papers before, even if it had been twenty years. It wasn’t like he was going to go out and become an Auror or a Healer or a Curse Breaker. He’d never been able to hold a steady job in his life, outside of his one-year tenure as a Hogwarts Professor. Why bother now?

The assignments and exams were, at least, a distraction—one which he needed badly that spring. Remus’s nails were chewed down and the edges of his favourite jumper had been unraveled by his nervous fingers. Given his relentless focus on schoolwork, everyone assumed it was just pre -pre-exam stress. It was not.

Remus was simply dreading the next few months. He wasn’t ready for what was to come, he’d never be ready. No, it was better to lose himself in the maze of brewing theory than think about what lay ahead. Potions was, after all, not one of his best subjects. It was easy to let the coursework consume his mind, leaving him exhausted and ready for sleep each night. His friends, however, frequently had other ideas.

Remus cried out in exasperation as his bed curtains were ripped open, revealing The Three Nuisances. Sirius crashed onto the bed, nearly knocking Remus’s inkwell across the rumpled sheets.

“Bloody hell, Pads!” Remus shouted as James and Peter flopped onto Sirius’s bed. It was always neatly made, given that he rarely slept in it.

“Oh knock it off, Moony. That essay’s not due for two weeks—put it away!” Sirius laughed, reaching to set the inkwell on the nightstand. 

Remus clutched the parchment to his chest, still clinging to the idea of an entire night of stress-relief via schoolwork. 

But the Marauders were undeterred by his sulking. Remus was informed that it had been far too long since they unleashed their collective genius upon the school, and the boys began rattling off prank ideas.

“We could... clog all the toilets,” Peter squeaked.

“No.” Remus flipped the page of the Potions textbook he’d refused to relinquish when Sirius had wrestled his parchment and ink away.

“Okay, okay,” Sirius used Remus’s thigh to create a drumroll. “Baby acromantulas. We could set some loose in the Slytherin common room!”

“No.”

“We could slip Snivellous a love potion. Make him fall hopelessly and very publicly in love with McGonagall,” James waggled his eyebrows.

“No.”

“But Moony,” Sirius whined. “It’s Valentine’s Day tomorrow.”

“Yeah, it’s Valentine’s Day, Moony,” James pouted, his bottom lip jutting out. Even Peter had turned to Remus imploringly.

Remus let his book slam shut with a loud snap.

“Okay listen up, you cretins. Here’s the plan.”

 

 

February 14th fell on a Hogsmeade weekend that year. Madam Puddifoot’s would no doubt be packed to the gills, although not with any of them. Marlene and Sirius had predictably split in January. Peter had his eye on one of the Hufflepuff girls, but the Marauders had all agreed that having your first date on Valentine’s Day was a bit self-sabotaging.

That morning, Remus rose before dawn for a run and then fell back into bed with Sirius while James and Peter left for Hogsmeade; they would practice their half of the prank at the Three Broomsticks. After a good lie-in, Remus and Sirius ate leftover scones from their midnight kitchen expedition and pulled out the record player Sirius had gotten last summer.

“Here,” Sirius said, casually tossing him a box of chocolates. Remus caught it, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

“Thanks,” Remus said, untying the ribbon that wound around the box. He lifted the lid to find a selection of truffles, each one rolled in crushed nuts or red cocoa. He glanced up at Sirius, surprised. “That’s really thoughtful, Pads.”

“It’s nothing,” Sirius waved him off, thumbing through the record collection the boys had put together. His signet ring glinted in the late morning light. Remus smiled softly. Since Fleamont and Euphemia had given him the family heirloom over Christmas break, Sirius had worn it religiously. 

“Oh this is a good one,” Sirius said brightly, picking out their first record. Remus popped a truffle into his mouth and laid back on the woven rug, feet kicked up onto a nearby bed, while Sirius pulled the record out and set it on the player. Curating the perfect selection of songs was critical to their evening plans.

Don't let me hear you say life's taking you nowhere
Angel
Come get up, my baby
Look at that sky, life's begun
Nights are warm and the days are young
Come get up, my baby

Remus wagged his feet side to side, bopping along to the beat. “Mmm yes. Definitely yes.”

“Agreed,” Sirius grinned. “It’s not a party without a little Bowie.”

He pulled out another record.

 

 

I know your eyes in the morning sun
I feel you touch me in the pouring rain
And the moment that you wander far from me
I wanna feel you in my arms again

And you come to me on a summer breeze
Keep me warm in your love, then you softly leave
And it's me you need to show
How deep is your love?

Remus bit his bottom lip to keep from laughing. “Pads, why do you even have this record?”

Sirius let out a barking laugh, grey eyes bright with amusement, “Christmas present. You can blame James for this one.”

“I mean,” Remus said. “It’s perfect. But it’s just so cheesy!”

“Okay, another one for the list,” Sirius smirked. “Let’s try...”

“Okay,” Remus sighed, closing his eyes. He wanted this moment to last forever.

I'm an alligator, I'm a mama-papa coming for you
I'm the space invader, I'll be a rock 'n' rollin' bitch for you
Keep your mouth shut, you're squawking like a pink monkey bird
And I'm busting up my brains for the words

Keep your 'lectric eye on me babe
Put your ray gun to my head
Press your space face close to mine, love
Freak out in a moonage daydream oh yeah

Remus sat up, rearranging so that his folded up legs covered his embarrassingly visceral reaction to this song. It was just... hot. It was rock and roll. It was transcendental. It was Sirius Black.

“More Bowie?” he arched an eyebrow.

Sirius shrugged, “Is there really any such thing as too much?”

Don't fake it baby, lay the real thing on me
The church of man, love, is such a holy place to be
Make me baby, make me know you really care
Make me jump into the air

Their eyes met as Sirius licked his lips. Remus’s breath hitched, and they both looked away.

“I don’t know. Your call on this one.” Remus’s heart hammered in his chest with such force that he felt Sirius must have heard it. “It’s sexy, but it may not be quite the right mood.”

Sirius nodded, and they let the song play out.

 

 

Dinner that night was a rousing success. James and Peter surreptitiously performed their modified Refilling Charms on the empty goblets across the house tables throughout the meal. When students discovered mead instead of pumpkin juice, no one complained; they just whispered to one another gleefully. Some took it upon themselves to help out. By dessert, the whole hall was quietly tipsy.

Sirius and Remus had snuck the record player in, softly wrapped in James’s invisibility cloak. Peter quietly cleared space on the table for it among the platters of food. Once it was set up, Remus whispered the Amplifying Charm and Sirius put the first record on.

As “Golden Years” began playing, Dumbledore rose from his chair with twinkling eyes. “It would seem that we are having a party. I believe it is time, as they say, to shake your tailfeather.”

The student body took that as permission to assemble in the open space separating the teacher and student tables. They danced, tentatively at first but with increasingly loose hips. The mead had done its job. Remus swore he even saw McGonagall shuffling her feet in time with the music.

The Marauders joined in, shimmying their way into the crowd. James tried to ask Lily to slow dance with him to the next song but was summarily shot down. Lily’s cheeks had flooded with colour and she grabbed Dorcas instead, placing her hands on Dorcas’s hips. 

Entirely unruffled, James simply shrugged and caught Sirius by his sleeve. They made a production of it, serenading each other while they swayed from side to side.

His friends were ridiculous, yet Remus’s heart still faltered when Sirius glanced over at him, a soft smile playing on his lips. Remus smiled back. They’d knocked this one out of the park.

After a few more songs, the boys gathered off to the side of the dance floor. 

I've been really tryin', baby
Tryin' to hold back this feeling for so long
And if you feel like I feel, baby
Then, c'mon, oh, c'mon, whoa

Let's get it on
Ah, baby, let's get it on
Let's love, baby
Let's get it on, sugar
Let's get it on, woo hoo

Remus sighed dramatically, “I can’t believe you all roped me into this again.”

“Moony,” James paused. “Look around. We didn’t even do anything this time!”

“I’m a prefect, James!” Remus quipped primly. “And this is an illegal party.”

Sirius rolled his eyes, knocking his shoulders against Remus’s. “You were literally the one who suggested it.”

“Tosser,” he added on as an afterthought. Remus just laughed as the four boys leaned against one another and swayed in a tangle of limbs.

Notes:

Okay! A few notes today.

1. I want to credit the last bit of banter. It was inspired by a tumblr post I saw on IG by @rascalsirius.

2. Here's the music referenced, if you'd like to listen along:
Golden Years by David Bowie
How deep is your love? by The Bee Gees
Moonage Daydream by David Bowie
Let’s Get It On by Marvin Gaye

You can also find the Spotify playlist here: https://linktr.ee/gayfiction

As always, I LOVE hearing from y'all. It definitely inspires me to write more.

xo Ace

Chapter 14

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

As Hermione sat in the Great Hall, she reflected on how much things could change in the course of only a few months. While early May in the Highlands brought forth the bursting blooms of daffodils and bluebells, the mood among the sixth year Gryffindors was still as cold and bleak as a winter snowstorm.

You’d have had to blind not to see the chasm that lay between the Marauders. The first few weeks after The Prank, Sirius had been cast out. James refused to have anything to do with him, and Peter nervously followed suit.  Now, as they approached three months of brittle silence, James seemed to have thawed; the three of them were inseparable as before, just completely miserable.

Hermione peered down the table at them, from where she sat wedged between Mary and Dorcas.

“It’s a real shame, isn’t it?” Dorcas murmured, following her eyes to the boys. Sirius picked at his plate gloomily while James doggedly attempted to fill Remus’s empty space on the bench with idle chatter. “It’s not right seeing them like this.”

“I just hope Remus is alright,” Mary sighed, tugging her soft brown hair into a loose bun. “I’ve barely seen him since, you know.”

Hermione’s lips tightened in a grimace. The year really had gone to shit. They’d known, of course, that this would happen. Well, she’s known about the first part anyway.

Hermione had tried to wrestle out of him some sort of plan regarding The Prank. Remus had claimed that his memory was fuzzy regarding the actual timeline; all he remembered was that it had happened during sixth year, probably in the spring. He’d been surprisingly avoidant, changing the subject anytime she brought it up and refusing to make a plan.

Ultimately, Hermione had decided to let it play out. While traumatic for all involved, she doubted Snape would ever be satisfied until he learned (and nearly experienced) the truth of Remus’s lycanthropy. He’d stalked the Marauders for years, trying to unravel the mystery of Remus’s disappearances. He’d trailed them relentlessly, attempted to eavesdrop on their conversations, and bribed other students for information. 

Even now, Hermione wasn’t sure that she’d made the correct decision. Would it have been better to have a teacher intervene before Snape went into the tunnel? Or long before that—she might have expressed some concerns to James about whether or not Sirius could be goaded into letting something slip.

Most of all, she wished that Remus had told her that his mother would pass away over Easter. When he had gone home for Easter break, he still hadn’t been speaking to the Marauders and Hermione could barely get a word out of him. So it hadn’t been surprising when they hadn’t heard from him over the short break.

When he didn’t return to school with the other students, his friends were all worried. Lily, Hermione, and the Marauders had exchanged concerned glances for three days, taking turns harassing the staff for information. Eventually, they were informed that Hope Lupin had passed away over Easter and that Remus would return after her funeral.

Remus came back with hunched shoulders, eyes red-rimmed and wretched. He rebuffed his friends when they attempted to comfort him, even Hermione and Lily. Instead, he seemed to disappear, making himself almost impossible to find. She suspected he might be sleeping in the Room of Requirement, although the dark circles under his eyes told another story.

The full moons appeared to have been rough, as he wouldn’t let the Marauders accompany him. Instead, they sat huddled together in the common room, textbooks laid open and untouched as their minds took them to the Shrieking Shack.  Hermione imagined that Sirius might have slipped out to the Shack uninvited had his friends not kept watch over him each full moon.

“Oh fuck,” Dorcas murmured. Her fork slipped from her fingers onto the table with a clatter. 

Hermione followed her gaze to Remus, who had appeared at the end of the long table. He hovered by the head of the table, picking up a slice of toast and buttering it hurriedly. A new scar bisected his face; an angry red slash that cut across his cheeks and over the bridge of his nose. Hermione’s heart clenched in sympathy. The wolf was frustrated without its pack, lashing out at the human boy who separated them. 

Remus quickly turned away from the table, toast clutched in his hand, and strode away with purpose. Sirius made to go after him, but James held him back. Hermione shook her head. This had to end. Remus needed the support of his friends, even if he didn’t want it.

 

 

The next day, Hermione steeled herself. Remus not wanting to see any of them, especially Sirius, was understandable. Of course it was. But he needed them—all of them.

She crept up the stairs to the boys’ dormitory, sliding into James’s bed and redrawing the curtains.

“Wha—Longbottom!” he exclaimed indignantly, shooting upright. His dark brows were furrowed and his usually bright face was lined with worry.

She arranged herself cross-legged on the bed to mirror him.

“I need your cloak.”

He stilled, searching her eyes. He must have found whatever he was looking for in them because the worry bled out of his face. With a decisive nod, he leaned over, poking his head out to rifle through his trunk. He emerged with the silky drape of cloth.

“Just—take care of him, okay?” he asked quietly. “I wish we could. I wish he’d let us. But I’m glad he’s got you.”

“I will.” She squeezed his arm, and left to track down Remus. She passed Sirius on her way down the stairs, noting his slumped shoulders and the dark circles under his eyes. They studiously avoided each other’s gaze, sliding quietly past one another in silent agreement. She knew that Remus needed to forgive him, that he loved Sirius too much not to, but she couldn’t help the resentment that coiled in the pit of her stomach. She’d forgive him, too, but not before Remus did.

 

 

She’d eventually found him lurking in the passageway behind the mirror on the fourth floor. He’d been reluctant, but she’d been persistent. Forced under the cloak, he’d silently fumed as she marched him out of the castle. 

“What the fuck,” he hissed as she immobilized the Whomping Willow. “Is this some sort of sick joke?”

Allowing a little of her exasperation to bleed through, she gave him a little push from behind. “Just trust me, okay?”

Remus grudgingly allowed her to propel him through the tunnel and into the Shrieking Shack.

“Home sweet home,” he growled as the two of them sat down on the single cot. The room was cast in shadow, lit only by the traces of light that slipped in through the board up windows. Still, she could make out the stained floor and peeling wallpaper.

“Well?” He asked bitterly as she lit a few candles. “Not sure what you’re trying to prove here.”

Hermione just shook her head and rummaged through her charmed backpack. Her hand emerged grasping a bottle of whisky.

“Sometimes,” she paused for dramatic effect. “You just need to get drunk. And smash some shit. And maybe, just maybe, talk about your feelings.”

 

 

They were well on their way to totally and truly trashed. As it so happened, so was the room. While it was routinely subjected to the rage of a transformed werewolf, it was kept up every few months with Mending Charms. The last time had been fairly recent, judging by the lack of broken glass and torn bedding when they arrived.

That had changed quickly. Along with the spirits, Hermione had brought two crudely-made clubs. After the alcohol had warmed their bellies, they took them in hand. Hermione had been the first to scream, letting the primal cry tear from her throat. Remus had flinched back in surprise but quickly followed suit. They swung and yelled and raged against the small and large injustices they’d suffered in their lives until they couldn’t scream anymore.

They settled back onto the bed, surrounded by debris, and Remus began to talk.

“I forgave them so fast the first time, you know,” he laughed bitterly. “I even spent Easter with them. I just wanted so badly to be liked. To be loved.”

“Oh, Remus,” Hermione clumsily reached for him. He took a swig and thrust the bottle into her outstretched palm.

“I’m just so bloody angry. Angry that I couldn’t do anything to stop it. That we’ve been sent back in fucking time and I couldn’t even save my own mam.”

“I know,” she slurred. “But it’s not your fault. You couldn’t have done—” she hiccuped, “anything.”

He was silent for so long that she worried he’d fallen asleep.

“Perhaps not.”

 

 

The next morning, Hermione rolled over, sleepily whacking him in the face. His cry of alarm prompted her own, and they awoke disoriented and horribly, gut-wrenchingly hungover.

Neither thought they could move without retching, so they avoided the inevitable for a woozy hour that felt like four. Eventually, they mustered the courage to trek back to the castle.

Hermione grimaced, taking a long swig of the offending alcohol that had knocked them on their backs, and steeled herself for the journey. “Nothing beats the hair of the dog that bit you, am I right?”

He groaned, taking the bottle from her, “Let’s just get this over with so I can sleep for three days straight.”

She chuckled and they made their way back, leaning on each other for support.

By the time they’d reached the third floor, Remus was done. He retched behind a suit of armor and collapsed nearby, dragging Hermione down with him.

“This is where I live now,” he moaned. “My life began here. And it shall end here.”

Hermione giggled and pushed him, “You nutter. Five minutes. And then we’re getting up. Okay?”

“No,” he flung his arm up to cover his eyes. “I’m never leaving this... wherever we are. I like it here.”

“Listen,” Hermione sobered up. “Over Easter, I talked to the Longbottoms. They’re buying me a flat in London.”

“You’re having me on!”

“No,” she laughed quietly. “Anything to help them forget about the alleged affair.”

Remus grunted indignantly.

“It’s alright,” she waved him off. “Really, though. It’ll be great to have my own space. Although... I was rather hoping you might, I don’t know, move in with me? Unless you’d rather go home of course! But I—I’d really like it if you came with.”

“Are you serious?” he asked quietly.

“No,” she laughed. “Although I do see him. He and James just spotted us.” She waved limply.

“No, but really,” she continued, “I did mean it.”

“Hermione,” Remus spoke earnestly, reaching a hand up to clap her on the shoulder, “I would bloody love to move in with you.”

She beamed at him all the way up until the boys reached them.

“Fucking hell,” James huffed, out of breath. “We’ve been looking all over for you two!” Sirius hung back nervously, brow wrinkled with worry.

“We might... require some assistance,” Remus spoke primly from his position on the floor, legs splayed out and head tipped back against the cool stone floor.

“James, help me up,” Hermione demanded, extending a hand towards him as she stood. Her knees buckled and he swept her up into his arms.

Sirius approached Remus cautiously, “Do you need a hand, Moony?”

Remus sighed dramatically. “Padfoot, you great wanker. Give me your hand.”

Sirius’s forehead smoothed with relief and he grasped Remus’s forearm, pulling the taller boy to his feet. He wrapped an arm around Remus’s middle and let Remus rest against his shoulders as they ascended to Gryffindor Tower.

James briefly squeezed Hermione against his chest, Sirius and Remus’s quiet laughter echoing through the corridor, “You’re a miracle worker, you know.”

She shrugged and turned her face into his shoulder. “He needs you all. Don’t let him convince you otherwise. Not ever.”

Notes:

Whew! I've been putting off this chapter. Some big feels.

Shout out to @iskiwayyo for their comment today; they're the only reason I whipped this out.

Next time our babes are going back to London! And let me tell you, I am SO excited for them. It's gonna be a heckin' good gay time. ✌🏻

As always, please comment and help me keep this thing rolling!

xo Ace

Chapter 15

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

While the rest of the student body had crammed onto the train back to London, Remus had stayed behind for a few extra days. The first full moon of summer break landed on July 3rd that year, so it had made sense to transform at the Shack. Remus had written his father to that effect, except rather than just three days, he claimed to be staying all summer.

None of the staff thought to check with Lyall, and Remus took the Hogwarts Express by himself to London without a hitch.

Like the summer before, Hermione was waiting for him when his train pulled up. Of course, it was Kings Cross this time, not Paddington. But her thick curls danced just the same as she pounced on him. He laughed, wrapping his arms around her, and lifted her off her feet. Remus was looking forward to spending all summer together.

They took a double-decker bus down Euston to Tottenham Court Road, turning off on Oxford. As they made the rest of the trek to Soho on foot, Remus reflected that his duffel bag, strapped comfortably across his back, really was a big improvement on a cumbersome trunk.

“Home sweet home,” Hermione sighed in pleasure, sweeping her arms out to indicate their new lodgings. It was an unassuming beanpole of a building, wedged between a strip club and a coffee shop.

The flashing neon sign next door read “LIVE GIRLS, NON-STOP STRIPTEASE” which Remus mouthed incredulously.

“Hermione,” he puffed as they raced up the stairs. “How on earth did you convince the Longbottom to buy a flat in Soho? It was more gentrified in our time, but now? It’s essentially a red-light district.”

As she pushed open the door to their flat, she arched an eyebrow, “Do you honestly think they care what I get up to? Besides, look around! It’s perfect.”

Indeed, it was lovely. Large windows facing the street bathed the living room in natural light. Adjacent to it lay a small kitchen that transitioned between spaces naturally with the division of a breakfast bar. A small hallway led to two bedrooms of a comfortable size, and a surprisingly spacious bathroom.

“Now this,” Hermione sighed happily as she climbed into the clawfoot tub, “sealed the deal for me.”

Remus laughed and hopped in with her, tangling their legs between them.

“Breaking news: best hangout spot in London found in Soho bathroom,” Remus joked.

When their laughter subsided, Hermione bit her lip nervously and asked, “Do you like it then? It’s alright?”

“Blimey! I’d say it’s more than alright. I mean, it might need some furniture. Unless we really do intend to just hang out in the bath.”

“Furniture sounds good,” she smiled in relief. “I’ve got a stipend. One of the perks of being the byproduct of an alleged affair. Particularly when the married couple is extraordinarily well off.”

Remus shook his head, “Christ. I do feel for them. But their response—can’t say I’m thrilled with it.”

“Eh,” Hermione waved her fingers through the air lazily, “Augusta and Frank Sr. are just muddling their way through life, same as the rest of us. And hey! If I don’t have to worry about money on top of everything else in our crazy lives, I’m okay with it.”

 

 

The next couple of weeks sped by as they settled into their little piece of London. They scoured the local charity shops, looking for second-hand furniture and odds and ends. One afternoon was devoted in its entirety to lugging a leather sofa from Piccadilly.

Remus had come home another day with an armful of houseplants, hugging them to his chest when Hermione dared to remind him that summer break was merely two short months.

“They can come with me! It’ll liven up the dorms, he argued.

She just shook her head in exasperation. She had to admit, though, once Remus had arranged them in front of the large windows, that they did help the flat feel more lived in.

The overall aesthetic was... eclectic. They had collected a hodgepodge of items that had no right to go together, but somehow it worked. Remus claimed that the plants tied it all together. He wasn’t wrong.

They’d also settled into the familiar routine of training. Hermione had convinced him to join her for boxing with only minimal complaint. She’d shown him what she’d learned over the school year, so he wasn’t completely hopeless. And annoyingly, he flourished under Irene’s tutelage, quickly surpassing Hermione with his quick reflexes and natural grace.

It had been a little awkward at first; Irene’s was a female-owned, -operated, and -attended gym. As far as Hermione knew, Remus was the only male pupil. But he’d quietly stuck it out, watching attentively and diligently implementing Irene’s curt feedback.

Marlene still joined a couple of times a week as well. The three of them often stopped for a coffee after class, Marlene entertaining them with stories of her family.

“My mum’s from Tokyo, you know. She’s a witch as well, but she never did tell my dad!” She laughed, an easy grin on her face.

“How did they meet?” Hermione asked, resting an elbow on the small table.

“They both attended university in London,” Marlene said, sitting back as if to begin a grand tale. “My dad came here from Scotland to study music, if you can believe it, but he became a pharmacist instead. Quite the turn up.”

“Music?” Remus asked curiously, lifting the cup to his lips. “What sort?”

“He’s handy with a few different instruments, but his favourite is the cello,” Marlene leaned in with a wicked grin. “It’s what my mum plays.”

“Ah,” Remus smiled into his drink.

“They met in a recital,” Marlene continued airily. “Fell in love, got married, the whole shebang. Popped out two wains, both of whom were doing things they shouldn’t have been able to do. For the longest time, it stormed whenever I was in a temper and, let me tell you, my dad was so confused.”

“I assume your mum told him at that point?” Remus asked, huffing a laugh.

“Aye, she did,” Marlene nodded. “Couldn’t exactly explain that away. Not when it kept happening.”

“Why didn’t she tell him before?” Hermione asked, setting her empty cup down on the table.

Marlene shrugged. “She didn’t love magic as much as she loved music. Her coming to England caused something of a rift with her family. I think she had resolved to leave magic behind her.”

“Seems like life had other ideas,” Remus said drily. “Didn’t you say your brother was coming to Hogwarts next year?”

“Aye,” Marlene shook her head tiredly, but her eyes were soft. “Haru’s a wee menace. He’s always been a bit of a klepto. When he was about six, I remember my mum wouldn’t let us have any sweets. She was very strict. But every time we came back from the market, Haru would have a custard-filled Taiyaki clutched in his sticky hands. Even if she kept ahold of him the whole time, he still got his treat.”

Hermione and Remus smiled at the story. Neither of them had ever had a sibling to tease or share stories about.

 

 

Between classes and furnishing their apartment, Hermione put her extensive knowledge of protective enchantments to good use. In addition to securing the flat, they crept down into the basement so that Hermione could perform additional, stronger wards meant to both deter visitors and prevent escape.

Along with some soundproofing, they hoped it would be a suitable place for Remus’s transformations that summer and after Hogwarts.

“I just hope everything goes smoothly next year,” Hermione worried. “Your boys really did accomplish something great, managing the Animagus transformation so young.”

He cleared his throat and cast a reassuring smile her way, “While I think you’re all nuts for trying it, I will say that I have the utmost confidence in your abilities.”

“Flatterer,” she elbowed him. “I’m just hoping that I don’t have the same form as my patronus. It’s adorable—don’t get me wrong. But it doesn’t seem the most practical.” They laughed together, imagining a small river otter trying to keep a werewolf in check.

 

 

Their new neighborhood was bustling with activity, and Remus and Hermione were industrious in their quest to explore its every nook and cranny. Well, perhaps not every nook and cranny. But certainly many of them.

They had anointed the pub around the corner, The Anchor, as their favourite local haunt. Hermione liked their bangers and mash and Remus liked sneaking furtive glances at the bartender, Kenji.

In Remus’s defense, there was a lot to take in, a lot to appreciate. Kenji’s prominent brow was frequently furrowed as he worked, taking orders, pouring drinks, and if you were very, very lucky, exchanging a few words. The sides of his head were shaved, leaving a swath of lilac down the middle, which he styled in a relaxed, swooping mohawk. Piercings adorned his face: both his eyebrows, his chin, and his ears, which displayed small gages. Remus sighed. He was just so pretty.

“Oi! I’m over here, you tosser.” Hermione swatted him with a copy of The Evening Standard.

“Sorry,” Remus tore his eyes away. “What were you saying?”

“That your mooning about is making me sick. Just talk to him already!”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly,” he flushed, spots of colour appearing high on his cheeks.

“And why not?” Hermione leveled an assessing gaze at him. “He’s gorgeous. You’re gorgeous. Stranger things have been known to happen.”

He waved her words away, “And what about you? I’m unpleasantly surprised by your lack of interest in anyone so far. We’re never going to get you laid at this rate!”

It was Hermione’s turn to blush, her soft brown skin flooding with heat.

“Are you... still holding out for Marlene?” he asked tentatively.

“No! God no,” she exhaled adamantly. “I don’t even know if I do like girls at all. She was kind of an outlier. It was just one kiss anyway. And I’m over it.”

Remus hummed in understanding.

“You, though,” she swerved back on topic. “I really think you should talk to him. Look! The bar’s not even that busy right now.”

He chanced a glance towards Kenji. She was right.

“Go on then, Romeo,” Hermione gave him a little push. “Get us another round.”

Reluctantly, Remus dragged himself from their table and approached the bar. His stomach churned with nerves and something that felt like excitement. It’d been far, far too long since he tried to flirt with someone. And even then, he’d never been very good at it.

Remus caught Kenji’s eye nervously, clearing his throat, “Hi, um. Two more pints, please?”

Kenji grunted with a short nod. Before he could move away, Remus continued haltingly, “I love your style, mate. Your hair especially. It’s proper gorgeous.”

Kenji didn’t give any indication he’d hear other than the furrow of his brow as he turned to get the drinks. He returned, sliding the pints down. He paused and eyed Remus up and down.

“You should check out my barber,” he said in a gravelly voice. “Here, let me write the address down.”

He scribbled on a napkin, continuing, “Ask for Billie.”

Notes:

Here we go! London times. I just love the idea of them building a little home together in Soho.

I've definitely been doing a lot of digging into gay London in the 1970s. While I recognize that not everything is going to make sense time-wise and canon-wise, I've been trying to keep things fairly accurate when possible.

In addition to a spreadsheet with many tabs, I've also curated quite the Pinterest board. I've got a bunch of character inspo pins, including Kenji and a couple of other original characters that we'll be meeting soon. Really helps my process.

Shout out to @Vienna926 for commenting! 💕

Have a great week y'all. Hit me with some love in the comments!

xo Ace

Chapter 16

Notes:

Hi friends! TW for very brief misgendering this chapter. It's quickly corrected.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Remus scrutinized the napkin again, trying to make out the street number. Hermione tugged on his arm.

“I think it’s a bit further, Remus. Maybe another couple of blocks?”

Remus sighed and let her pull him along, fingers interlaced. Still, a smile tugged on his face. Wending through the streets of Muggle London, hand in hand with Hermione, filled him with inexplicable happiness. It just felt so right.

“Still thinking about getting yours cut, too?” Remus asked.

“Maybe,” she mused, feeling the weight of her thick, long ringlets. “I could definitely use a trim. But I wouldn’t trust just anyone to do a curly cut right.”

“Yeah, that’s fair. We don’t really know anything about this guy, other than he can do a mohawk.”

“Not really my style,” Hermione giggled.

When they did find the barbershop, they were surprised to be directed towards a young woman at the back. She swept the cut hair away from her station, humming and dancing along to the radio. Her inky hair was shaved along the sides and back, the rest rolled into locs that had been tied together on top of her head, ends spilling out like a kraken reaching out of the depths of the sea.

Large, horn-rimmed glasses framed her open face, which she turned towards them appraisingly.

“Hi,” Remus smiled awkwardly. “I’m Remus. Kenji sent me your way.”

“Yes, I imagine he did.” She took his hand lightly, full lips curving into a sly smile. “Billie.”

“And your friend?” she raised an eyebrow at Hermione, who had hung back nervously.

“Hermione Longbottom!” Hermione blurted out, blushing furiously. Billie's lips twitched, but she didn't comment other than to say, "It's lovely to meet you both."

Remus impulsively nudged Hermione towards the chair and Billie swept a chair cloth around her shoulders. She buried her fingers in Hermione’s curls, lightly massaging her scalp. “Now then. What did you have in mind, love?”

“I don’t really know,” Hermione blinked. “I’ve sort of always had the same style. More or less. Not that I’ve never wanted to try anything else!” she stammered. “I just—haven’t even known where to start. What the options would be.”

Billie hummed, “I understand. It can be hard to choose when there are so many options.”

Hermione made a small noise of agreement as she watched her hair tumble through Billie’s long, brown fingers.

“Tell you what. I’m going to make a suggestion. Now, it’s your hair and your body. You’re under no obligation to listen to me. But I think you would look absolutely darling if we took it up all the way to your nape. Shape the back and sides a bit, and create some more volume up top. Hmm?”

“Yeah, okay,” Hermione breathed. “Whatever you think.” Remus hid a smile. He’d never seen her so infatuated.

Billie set to work, taking the length of Hermione’s hair up dramatically—all the way to her chin. As she snipped with breezy confidence, Billie gradually drew Hermione out of her shell. They talked about life in their little slice of London, Billie listing off recommendations for chippies, karaoke, and the best shops.

“Okay,” Billie smiled, holding up a hand-held mirror. “What do you think?”

Hermione examined her reflection with a sharp intake of breath. “I look... good.” They both laughed, while Remus continued pretending to be engrossed by the latest issue of Woman’s Weekly.

Her hair had always expanded to create a bit of a halo around her frame. Cut short and shaped, the top flowed beautifully in bouncy curls that swept forward and created real body. Already, she felt lighter; without the weight of its old length, her hair sprung into pretty coils with ease. 

“Gorgeous,” Billie concluded, before turning to Remus. “Okay, lover boy. You’re up.”

“Oh,” Remus frowned, rushing to clarify. “Hermione and I aren’t together. I mean, we came here together...” He trailed off. “Right. Kenji, you meant Kenji.”

Billie bit her bottom lip, cheeks rounding as she grinned, “I’m guessing you’re looking for something edgier? Maybe a little punk?”

“Yeah, I mean, spot on really. You’re... really insightful.” Remus laughed in surprise, running a hand through his sandy brown hair self-consciously.

She hummed, picking up her clippers. “Trust me?”

As Billie ran them across the side of his head, Hermione stepped out to grab a coffee.

Please tell me you’re going to ask her out.” Remus didn’t waste a second. “She’s inexperienced with women, but she is the smartest person I’ve ever known, she’s gorgeous, and she is absolutely smitten with you.”

Billie chuckled, “You think I should, then?”

“Please,” Remus deadpanned. “Please, for the love of all that is good in this world, ask that girl on a date.”

When Hermione returned with three drinks, Billie invited them both to a party.

 

 

Hermione quietly cursed Remus’s name as she climbed the stairs of an unfamiliar dwelling. He’d fucked off to the Potters’ for a week, which just so happened to include the night of the party. While he probably thought he was doing her a favor, Hermione disagreed. She could have used his steadying presence. 

Hermione scanned the room full of strangers, relieved to quickly spot Billie’s petite frame. By the time she had weaved through the crowd, Billie was alone with the exception of the most stunning person she’d ever seen, Hermione thought, as her eyes raked over high cheekbones and a luscious swoop of dark hair.

Billie beamed upon seeing her, pulling her into a quick hug before turning to her friend.

“Elliot, this is the girl I was telling you about. Hermione, meet Elliot,” Billie smiled, leaning against his side.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Elliot said, his dark eyes crinkling with amusement. Hermione shook his tattooed hand, heart leaping at the thought of Billie talking about her.

The three of them fell into an easy rhythm, chatting about the party and Billie making the occasional introduction. 

Eventually, Elliot said, “Well, I’m going to make the rounds. See you, babe,” and kissed Billie. He turned to Hermione with a kind smile. “It was nice to meet you. Hopefully I’ll see you around.”

Hermione felt her stomach drop and mind whir, as she began to catalogue her fundamental misunderstanding of the situation.

When Billie asked if she wanted to get some air, she agreed without thinking and immediately cursed herself. Was this a come-on? Or was she misreading things again?

Billie led her through the neighborhood on a meandering route, stopping to read the words that were scrawled onto the sides of buildings with spray paint. Hermione felt her shoulders loosen with the steady cadence of Billie’s voice. It wasn’t Billie’s fault she’d misunderstood. It wasn’t like it was the first time she’d mistaken a friend’s affection for something more.

They circled back around to the flat, lingering across the street by an empty doorway. Bille reached out to loosely entwine their fingers together.

“I’d really like to kiss you, Hermione Longbottom,” she murmured, leaning forward just the tiniest bit. Hermione’s heart beat wildly.

“But! Your girlfriend. You have a girlfriend,” Hermione protested, taking a half-step backward.

“Boyfriend,” Billie corrected.

“Oh my god,” Hermione stammered. “Fuck. Boyfriend! Of course. God, I am so sorry.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Billie squeezed her hand. “He and I are polyamorous. We both see other people. It’s all on the up and up.”

“Oh,” Hermione breathed. “Of course. I mean, I’ve heard of polyamory before, but I haven’t met anyone who was before. At least, I don’t think I have.”

Billie chuckled, “Well, now you know at least two of us.” She tugged Hermione a little bit closer. “So how about it? Do you want to kiss me, too?”

“God yes,” Hermione breathed, swaying closer towards her.

As Billie pressed their lips together, snaking an arm around her waist, Hermione practically melted. She felt so light-headed she worried she might float into the sky without Billie there to tether her. Instead, she grounded herself with the sensation of Billie’s soft lips, the brush of her fingers under the hem of Hermione’s blouse, and soon the heady slide of tongues.

Billie drew her head back, waiting until Hermione opened her eyes dazedly.

“Okay?” Billie asked, continuing to rub little circles on her bare skin.

“More than,” Hermione pulled her bottom lip through her teeth. “I think I’d like to do that again. I might never stop kissing you, actually. You’d better watch out.”

Billie laughed, both of them still smiling when their lips reconnected.

They were reluctant to go back to the party, choosing instead to sit on the stoop, still wrapped up in the glow of their first kiss. They talked in low voices, trading details of their lives, snuggled together against the chill of the London night. 

“I actually go to boarding school,” Hermione admitted when Billie asked. “This will be my last year there.”

“Okay, little rich girl,” Billie teased, nudging their shoulders together. “I see how it is. And where is this school of yours? Close to London, I hope?”

“Unfortunately sort of the opposite,” Hermione said. “It’s in the Highlands.”

“In Scotland?” Billie whistled. “I thought you seemed posh.”

“Hardly,” Hermione laughed. When Billie looked doubtful, she sighed, “Well, maybe a bit. What about you, then? Are you going to uni?”

“I took a gap year that turned into two. But I am planning on uni next semester, assuming I get accepted.”

“I can’t imagine you wouldn’t be,” Hermione said, brows drawing together. “I’ve only known you for two days and I can already tell that you’re brilliant.”

“Thanks,” Billie laughed and squeezed her hand. “You’re a sweet one.”

Hermione hid a smile. “What are you going to study, then?”

“Psychology,” Billie said, face lighting up as she explained, “Ultimately, I’d like to become a counselor. I want to help people who need that sort of support, especially kids.”

“I love that.” Hermione’s heart fluttered as she played with the edge of Billie’s sleeve. “So I wanted to ask... what’s the deal with you and Elliot? You said you were polyamorous, but I’m still not totally sure what that means for you?”

“Elliot and I have been together for a few years now,” Billie said, eyes soft and warm behind her large glasses. “We moved into a flat together last year. He’s a tattoo artist and doesn’t see that changing; he loves it.” She hesitated, continuing, “As far as what poly looks like for us, we don’t apply limitations to each others’ relationships—we’re free to date other people and let those connections unfold naturally.”

Hermione hummed as she processed this new information. “So is it safe to assume that you want to see me again? Because I’d really like to get to know you better.”

“I would like that,” Billie smiled, stretching up for another sweet kiss.

Notes:

Whew. I've been struggling to write this week. I definitely feel a lot more pressure in establishing original characters. I want to do it right.

So, what do y'all think of Billie & Elliot?

Yes, Elliot's name is a tribute to Elliot Page, a true babe. He'll make another appearance next chapter in more detail.

Sidenote: we're well-over 1,000 hits! I'm blown away. I wasn't sure anyone was actually going to read this when I started it. 😅

Thanks for coming on this journey with me. 💜

xo Ace

Chapter 17

Notes:

Brief TW for minor drug use in the last section

If you'd like to follow along with the music in this chapter, you can find the playlist here: https://linktr.ee/gayfiction

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

With Remus back in London, he and Hermione returned to their regular patronage of The Anchor.

“I can't believe it,” Remus teased. “I leave for one week and suddenly you’ve got yourself a girlfriend!”

“Hey, no labels,” Hermione couldn’t suppress her smile even as she chided him. “We’re keeping it very casual.”

“Mmm,” Remus took a sip of his beer. “That isn’t what you said last night.”

“Remus, I was smashed! I can’t be held accountable the next day for the nonsense that came out of my mouth!”

He bumped their shoulders together. “I’ll keep that in mind the next time you try and give me shit.”

“I just can’t believe I ever thought I was straight!” she whispered incredulously. “Like, I’m probably still bi. But most definitely on the sapphic side.”

“That good, huh?” he smirked.

“Remus,” she spoke slowly and deliberately, “when I tell you that eating pussy is a life-altering experience, I’m dead serious. And can we just take a moment to appreciate women? They’re bloody gorgeous. All of them!”

“Ah, to be young and in the throes of a sexual awakening,” Remus sighed dramatically.

“You’re such a goof,” she laughed, leaning her head against him.

 

 

Billie slid into their lives with ease, frequently stopping by for a cuddle after work or stealing Hermione away for coffee. Hermione was pleased, although unsurprised, to find that Billie and Remus got on well, too.

It wasn’t uncommon to find the three of them squashed together on the sofa, making a Hermione sandwich. Billie had also taken to dragging both of them out to various parties and club nights.

On this particular evening, she’d finally talked them into going to the disco with her. It was only a fifteen-minute walk from their flat, so they got ready together and walked arm-in-arm through the streets of Soho.

“Bang opened last year,” Billie explained as they waited at a crossing. “It was absolutely groundbreaking. London’s never had such a large gay club.”

“How popular is it, then?” Hermione asked curiously, fidgeting in the mini-dress Billie had lent her for the night.

“On a really good night, you might get over a thousand people,” Billie said proudly. “London was just bursting for a gay superclub like this. Everybody turns out for it; it doesn’t matter what kind of queer you are.”

“Think we’ll fit in?” Remus laughed self-consciously in his short-sleeved button-down. Billie and Hermione had insisted on leaving the top five or six buttons undone, revealing a swathe of his pale chest.

Billie fixed her steady gaze on him, “Honey, the last thing on your mind should be fitting in. There’s nobody like you, and you are a goddamn gift.”

He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, moving to start walking when the crosswalk changed, but Billie held them up.

“No, this is important. It’s okay if you don’t feel comfortable being ‘out’ right now, but you—both of you—are extraordinary. I want to see you celebrated at your most authentic and owning that.”

“However,” she continued. “I do know how intimidating that can be. Putting yourself out there, saying ‘This is me.’ I think what most people overlook, though, is that everyone experiences that. Every person you meet has those insecurities, about how others perceive them. About how their company would be received if they approached someone.”

“How do you let go of that?” Remus asked quietly.

“You practice. Every time you go out, you take one action—and it can be small—that challenges your perception of yourself or your social comfort. Talk to a stranger, if only in passing. Wear something you didn’t think you had the guts to. Ask someone out. They’re just small things, but little by little they all add up, and suddenly you’re doing things you wouldn’t have dreamed of before without thinking twice about it.”

“I would say ‘You make it sound so easy,’” Remus half-grimaced, half-laughed. “But you really don’t!”

“Hmm,” she hummed. “We’ll start tonight.”

“Merlin,” He whispered to Hermione as Billie led the way. “What have you gotten us into?”

Me?” Hermione whispered back incredulously, “This is on you, you wanker!”

“It’ll be fun!” Billie called over her shoulder, shimmying a little as they approached the club, music spilling out into the streets.

They fought their way to the bar, had a round of shots, and let the crowd sweep them onto the dance floor.

“Talullah is on tonight!” Billie yelled over the music.

“WHAT?” Hermione shouted back.

“TALLULAH!” she gestured to the DJ who kept the club moving from his place on the stage.

When you just can't break away (when you just can't break away)
Oh, young hearts run free
Never be hung up, hung up like my man and me, my man and me
Oh, young hearts, to yourself be true
Don't be no fool when love really don't love you, don't love you

It's high time now just one crack at life
Who wants to live in, in trouble and strife
My mind must be free, to learn all I can about me, uh-hmm
I'm gonna love me, for the rest of my days

In the press of bodies, they danced. Remus and Hermione moved tentatively at first but soon fell into the unrestrained rhythm of the crowd. Billie taught them a few moves like The Bump, The Funky Chicken, and some sort of pelvic thrusting that Hermione couldn’t keep a straight face through.

When Remus accidentally got absorbed into a nearby group of men decked out in leather from head to toe, Billie just laughed and turned into Hermione, capturing her lips as they continued moving to the music. Remus made good on his endeavor to crawl out of his shell inch-by-inch, making no effort to extricate himself from their bumping bodies. Hermione gave him a cheeky thumbs up after coming up for air.

My baby moves at midnight
Goes right on till the dawn
My woman takes me higher
My woman keeps me warm

What you doin' on your bed on your back? Ah
What you doin' on your bed on your back? Ah
You should be dancing, yeah
Dancing, yeah

As the night wore on, they weaved through the crowd for more shots, doubling up this time for peak efficiency. Billie laughingly propped the two of them up against each other when Remus and Hermione’s legs became unsteady. Remus’s new leather-clad friends re-appeared and Billie danced with them in Remus’s stead, moving gracefully with the music and press of bodies. Hermione snaked an arm around his back, squeezing clumsily. It was nice, losing themselves in that moment. To just dance without thinking about war or grief or what lay ahead. To just live.

But of course that couldn’t last. When they later caught a glimpse of a sharp smile and eyes that had witnessed millennia, they weren’t sure if it was a trick of the strobing light, the alcohol, or their own paranoia. Surely they wouldn’t be here of all places. And as soon as they appeared, they were gone, before Remus and Hermione could fight their way through the throng of people. Simply a reminder that they were both living on borrowed time.

 

 

The following week, Billie invited them both to a party at her and Elliot’s flat. She’d been accepted into University College London’s psychology programme.

Their flat was small but crammed with people. Billie broke off when she saw them, kissing Hermione and crushing Remus in a hug.

“Congratulations, babe,” Hermione smiled. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Thanks for coming tonight,” Billie beamed back, before turning to Remus. “Especially you, sickie. Hermione said you weren’t feeling so hot.”

“Yeah, just a little under the weather,” he grimaced, his bones aching as they always did before a full moon.

“Hmm,” she considered, scanning the room. “Oh, good! Come on, Elliot’s got a spot open next to him. You can hide away together.”

She guided him towards a sofa at the back, where Elliot had burrowed into the cushions.

“Hey stud, budge over,” she directed, leaning over to give him a quick peck before pushing Remus onto the couch.

“Okay, try not to have too much fun.” Her eyes twinkled. “Hermione and I will be back round in a bit to check on you.”

Elliot’s fiddling hands were covered in both tattoos and rings. He wore a beanie over his dark hair, which escaped at the front in a dramatic swoop. His deep-set eyes and sharp jawline gave the impression of a brooding aristocrat, not dissimilar to Sirius and Regulus both.

“Wotcher, Remus,” he greeted him, his voice low and comforting. “Not that I’m complaining, but why have you been left here with me?”

“Chronic pain,” Remus explained with a grimace. “Having a flare-up, I’m afraid.”

Elliot hummed in sympathy, “I was thinking about rolling a joint anyway. Might help?”

Remus sighed appreciatively, “You’re a real mensch. That sounds brill.”

“Yeah? Good,” Elliot smiled shyly. “Okay, give me a few.”

They passed the joint back and forth. Remus relaxed as the ache in his bones was replaced by a warm, fuzzy numbness. He groaned in pleasure, shifting onto his side and angling his knees towards Elliot.

Elliot turned to mirror him and Remus inched closer, reaching out a hand.

“What’s the story behind these?” He asked, trailing his fingertips over Elliot’s knuckles.

“Hmm?” Elliot blinked. “The tattoos? Or the rings?”

“Either really,” Remus yawned, leaning the side of his face against the couch.

“Well, I’ve had sort of a long-standing crush on Ringo. From the Beatles, you know. It’s so weird,” he laughed, hanging his head. “Because, like, Ringo is a bit of an oddball. But I just love him, and I’ve always loved his style.”

“That’s cute,” Remus’s lips curved into a lazy smile. “And the tattoos?”

“Well,” Eliott murmured. “You know I’m a tattoo artist. I’ve been drawing forever; started inking in lower sixth. There’s a certain sort of agency in making changes to your body that you choose. Especially when you’re trans. Some of my tattoos have meaning; some are just aesthetic.”

Remus nodded, frowning contemplatively, “That makes a lot of sense.”

Elliot bit his lip, looking up at Remus through lowered lashes, “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, but your scars... they’re beautiful.”

“I—thank you?” Remus laughed a little self-consciously, glancing down at his marked forearms. “They have some painful associations. But I suppose aesthetically they’re at least interesting.”

“Is it okay if I touch you?” Elliot asked, starting to lean forward. Remus’s breath hitched, and he nodded.

“I would love to tattoo you,” Elliot murmured, his fine fingers tracing the silvery patterns etched into Remus’s skin. “If you wanted, I could draw up some designs that play with the lines already there.”

“That sounds... really good actually,” Remus breathed. “I think I’d like to take you up on that.”

“Anything else sound good to you tonight?” he teased, continuing to trace Remus’s arms.

When Billie and Hermione finally made their way back over to the boys, they were lazily making out on the end of the couch, limbs deliciously tangled.

Hermione tried to stifle a giggle, burying her head in Billie’s neck.

“I fucking knew it,” Billie grinned, utterly delighted.

She was met with a pair of good-humored middle fingers.

Notes:

Hi friends!

Thank you so much to iskiwayyo, Vienna926, and Bitten_Button for their comments on my last update! I’ve been having sort of a rough time lately, and having people read this story and take the time to comment makes me so unbelievably happy.

This chapter features a tiny bit of queer London history in the form of BANG, which was indeed London’s first gay superclub, opening in 1976. Look it up!

The songs referenced in this chapter are:
Young Hearts Run Free - Candi Staton
You Should Be Dancing - Bee Gees

They're all on the Spotify playlist: https://linktr.ee/gayfiction

Any guesses re: our mysterious disco-goer? We’ll definitely be circling back around to this plot point later!

As always, please comment & tell me what you think.

Xo Ace

Chapter 18

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Remus and Hermione sat at a high-top together, cheering as Billie climbed up on stage, squinting at the karaoke projector.

“Last night in London,” Hermione stirred her drink morosely.

“Buck up, lover girl,” Remus nudged her. “Billie’s already said to come visit her when you’re on break.”

“I know,” Hermione pouted. “But it won’t be the same. I just—I don’t want this summer to end, Remus.”

“I know,” he squeezed her hand. “Me either.”

Billie’s voice cut through the bar. She was looking towards their table, lips curved in a smile.

I don't mind you comin' here
And wastin' all my time
'Cause when you're standin' oh so near
I kinda lose my mind

Hermione buried her face in her hands, peering up through splayed fingers. The corners of her mouth turned up and her eyes softened.

It's not the perfume that you wear
It's not the ribbons in your hair
And I don't mind you comin' here
And wastin' all my time

When Billie finished, Remus hollered while rolling up his sleeves, then broke into enthusiastic applause to match Hermione’s. Billie returned to their table and pounced onto Hermione’s lap happily.

“Aw, sugar,” she purred, looking over at Remus. “I still can’t get over your gorgeous arms!”

Remus blushed, “Thanks. Elliot does some amazing work.”

The scars that lined his forearms had become the ‘cracks in the pavement’ from which indomitable vines and flowers sprang forth. Remus felt a renewed sense of hope and resilience every time he glanced down at them, his insides warming with pleasure.

Hermione coughed, trying to hide a smile as the next song came on: “Werewolves of London.” Remus shook with laughter, trying not to look at her.

I saw a werewolf with a Chinese menu in his hand
Walking through the streets of SoHo in the rain
He was looking for the place called Lee Ho Fooks
For to get a big dish of beef chow mein

“Well, it’s getting late. I think we may head out?” Hermione turned towards Billie with a question in her eyes.

Billie rubbed their noses together before facing Remus with an impish grin, “Yes, I’m afraid we have some other... plans tonight. A prior engagement shall we say.”

Remus laughed, “Go on, you two. Don’t let me keep you.”

“Okay,” Hermione smiled, kissing him on the cheek. “See you in the morning.”

“Bye Billie,” he murmured as she wrapped her arms around him. "Give Elliot a hug from me, yeah?"

“I'll give him more than that, doll,” Billie teased. Sobering, she continued, “Take care of our girl for me, yeah?”

“I will,” Remus promised, his arms tightening around her. She released him and slung an arm around Hermione. The girls left first, guled at the hip.

Remus called after them, “Don’t be late! Train leaves at eleven!”

 

 

The next morning, Remus and Hermione met in front of their flat, gasping for air.

“What,” Hermione wheezed, “Are you doing back so late?”

Me?” Remus panted as they crashed up the stairs. “What about you? Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“Remus Lupin,” Hermione growled, throwing open their apartment door. “It is ten thirty-five and you’re in last night’s clothes. What happened?”

“I may have gone to The Anchor last night,” he called as he skidded into his room and began throwing clothes haphazardly into his duffel. “Figured it was my last shot with Kenji!”

He heard a high-pitched squeal from across the hall. “Remus! You sly dog!”

They collided in the living room, bags done and in hand. Hermione grasped him by the chin, turning his head to get a better look at his neck. Smirking, she remarked, “I see it went well.”

He started to groan in exaggerated pleasure, but quickly pivoted to gasping in concern, “Hermione! My plants!”

She smacked her forehead as he paced in front of the windows, panicking about which ones to take.

“Just pick one! Or even two! Remus, we have to leave. We only have twenty-two—” She checked the clock. “Twenty-one minutes left!”

“Okay, okay,” he grabbed two of the larger ferns, hoisting one in each arm. He glanced morosely at the rest of the plants on their way out the door, muttering, “Rest in peace.”

They hailed a black cab downstairs and crammed into the backseat together with their belongings. Remus palmed his plants off on Hermione temporarily in order to strip off his check flannel, tying it around his waist, leaving him in his jeans and a loose white t-shirt. His neck was, indeed, sporting a couple of dark bruises from Kenji’s mouth.

They looked at each other, Hermione still in her mini-skirt and cropped sweater, similarly disheveled, and burst into laughter.

“We’re a right mess,” she scoffed, knocking their legs together.

“Utter disasters,” he beamed back.

Having reached King's Cross, they began to push through the crowd, jogging awkwardly with their packs.

Upon hearing the clock begin to sound, they panicked. Remus foisted his beloved ferns onto a stranger, yelling care directions over his shoulder as they sprinted away.

Bright indirect sun!” he bellowed. “Don't—over—water them!

Crashing through Platform 9 3/4, Remus and Hermione gasped in alarm. The train had already begun moving down the tracks.

“Christ on a cracker,” Hermione breathed. “We’re going to have to chase it.”

“Best crack on then!” Remus tightened his grip on the strap slung across his chest. “Race you!”

Legs stretching out, their feet pounded on the pavement as they hurtled after the Hogwarts Express.

Other students began poking their heads out of the windows to watch them, shouting encouragement and jibes.

Remus heard familiar voices yelling, “Moony! You absolute tosser! Get your arse on the train!” He couldn’t keep from smiling, even as his chest burned, shirt billowing out around him.

Hermione made the transition first, leaping through an open door to the train car. She held her arms out for his larger duffle, which he launched in her direction.

He wasn’t sure he’d ever moved this quickly before in his life, although he was afraid the train was moving to surpass him.

“You have to jump!” Hermione screamed. “Move it or lose it, Lupin!”

Steeling himself, he leapt, catching the edge of the train and propelling himself around and through the open door. He tumbled onto Hermione, knocking her flat on her back.

Chests heaving, they broke into wheezing laughter.

“Okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she rasped. “You?”

“Dead chuffed you made me take up running, actually.”

Fresh peals of laughter sounded through the corridor.

 

 

James popped his head out of their usual compartment, his hair uncharacteristically arranged. A shiny Head Boy badge was pinned to his jumper. 

“Oi! Lupin, what do you think you’re doing almost missing the train?” James chided with laughing eyes.

“Well it wasn’t exactly on purpose,” Remus grumbled, picking himself up off the floor. He turned to Hermione as she brushed off her skirt, “See you at dinner?”

“Yeah,” she smiled. “I’m going to go find Dee and Marls.”

Remus picked up his duffel bag and padded down the corridor. “Look at you,” he crowed, clapping James on the shoulder. “Prongs, you look almost presentable! What’d you do to your hair?”

James’s neck flushed with heat as Sirius and Peter shouted in unison, “Sleekeazy!”

“I thought it looked good,” he muttered, reaching up to touch his tamed curls self-consciously.

“It looks fine, Prongs,” Remus chuckled, setting his bag up on the overhead rack. “Although I imagine I’m not exactly your target audience.” 

“Yeah, and I was going for a bit more than just ‘fine’,” James grumbled.

“Oi! You’re letting him deflect, Prongs,” Sirius cut in, jumping up to grab Remus’s wrist. “What the hell is this, Moony?”

It was Remus’s turn to blush as his friend inspected his forearms, long fingers tracing the new lines of ink that swirled over his skin.

“I can’t believe you got tattooed without me,” Sirius shook his head, tutting in mock disapproval. He grinned and pressed a squeeze to Remus’s arm before releasing him, “It looks good, though. Really good.”

“Thanks,” Remus said, his cheeks still pink.

“But what’s all this,” James snuck up behind him, prodding at his neck. “I didn’t realize Hermione was so aggressive.”

Remus choked on a laugh, shaking his head. He had to set the record straight... so to speak. “No, no Hermione and I aren’t

But before he could finish his sentence, Lily had opened the compartment doors and interrupted, “Potter, the meeting’s set to start in a few minutes. I thought you and I might sit down beforehand so that we’re prepared.” She smiled at Remus, gesturing up and down. “I like your new look.”

Remus hid a smile as James shot him a dirty look, hurrying out of the compartment to join Lily.

“You’re not the only one who got some ink this summer,” Sirius confided, rucking up his Ziggy Stardust T-shirt to display the shadowy dog lurking on his ribcage. “It’s the Grim!”

“Pads,” Remus chuckled. “It’s you. That’s literally you.” 

“No, it’s the Grim,” Sirius frowned, glancing down at his tattoo. “See? It’s spectral.”

Remus took another look, his eyes lingering on the soft skin of Sirius’s side. He swallowed back the urge to touch, to feel, to trace the outline of the dog with his fingers.

“It’s a big, black dog,” Peter snorted from the bench. “Of course it’s you!”

Remus blinked and tore his eyes away. He smiled at Peter, “Glad someone else sees past his delusions. How are you, mate?”

“Glad you’re here,” Peter grinned, a smile big enough to reveal his buck teeth. “Pads is impossible to keep in check without you.”

“Lies and slander!” Sirius exclaimed, slinging an arm around Remus’s waist as he tugged him down onto the bench opposite Peter. “I get on just fine without you.”

“Liar,” Remus teased softly. His stomach swooped when Sirius’s eyes fluttered closed for a fleeting moment, peering back up at him through dark lashes.

“I just can’t believe that Dumbledore made Prongs Head Boy,” Peter shook his head. “What on earth was he thinking?”

“Probably that James would never have a chance in hell with Lily without divine intervention,” Remus joked as he tried to tamp down on his ridiculous feelings. Sirius was his friend. A very good friend, with nice hands and pretty eyes. But still just a friend. 

Even so, as Sirius laced their fingers together, Remus could do nothing to quiet his thundering pulse.

Notes:

Updates two days in a row! How about that?

This is a scene I’ve been thinking about for a while. I’ve always loved the idea of Remus & Hermione holding out for every last second they can this summer. Since, you know. Shit’s about to get real as soon as they leave Hogwarts.

That being said, I think we’re going to have some fun with seventh year. Next chapter is also something that’s been rattling around in my head for ages.

Music referenced:
Just What I Needed - The Cars
Werewolves of London - Warren Zevon

You can also find the Spotify playlist here: https://linktr.ee/gayfiction

Please comment and let me know what you think! I do read and respond and get warm, gushy feelings from each of your comments.

Xo Ace

Chapter 19

Notes:

TW for homophobia, bullying & coming out this chapter.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The entirety of the seventh year class was obliged to attend a weekly ‘study period’ during which they were expected to revise for their N.E.W.T.S. In actuality, students quietly gossiped and flirted under the guise of joint revisions and textbook sharing.

Hermione’s Potions textbook sat propped open in front of the three of them, as they took turns sneaking what they thought of as inconspicuous glances towards James and Lily.

“Do you think this is one of Dumbledore’s plots?” Hermione mused. “It’s just a little suspicious, isn't it?”

Remus nodded pensively, “That’s what I’ve been saying all along. It’s the only explanation that makes sense. Why else would they have made Prongs Head Boy?”

“Don’t be a sore loser, Moony,” Sirius smirked. “I think you very much earned your lack of promotion this school year.”

Remus leaned back behind Hermione, hissing, “And whose fault is that, I wonder?”

“Well, if you and Longbottom are to be believed, I think you can blame old Dumbly-dore and his wily matchmaking ways—” he yelped as Remus swatted him.

“Shhh,” Hermione hissed, “you’re missing it. Code Twitterpation! I repeat, Code Twitterpation!”

Remus and Sirius abandoned their squabbling to peer down the long table to where James and Lily sat together, reviewing the prefect patrol schedule. As James scribbled, bent over the parchment, Lily watched him, eyes slightly glazed over. She smiled when he spoke, running a hand absently through her long auburn hair.

“Any day now,” Hermione predicted.

“I don’t know,” Sirius frowned. “I’m happy for him, really I am. But this is really throwing me off, y’know? Like, the universe is out of balance.”

Remus hummed in agreement, “You’re not wrong, Pads. There’s something profoundly strange about the way she doesn't storm off in a huff every day.”

“Yeah,” he grinned. “Now it’s only every other day.”

Hermione snorted, idly flipping to the next page of her textbook.

“Oof,” Sirius winced, looking in the opposite direction to where Peter was attempting to secure a Hogsmeade date. It did not appear to be going well.

“Maybe I should help him,” Sirius considered, his eyebrows lifting higher and higher as he watched.

“Eh, let him suffer,” Remus suggested flippantly. “How else will he ever learn?”

“Moony, if it hasn’t happened by now, it isn’t going to,” Sirius told him soberly.

“Can’t teach an old dog new tricks,” Hermione chimed in slyly to Sirius’s annoyance. Remus hid a smile.

“Okay, time for a rescue mission,” Sirius stood, clapping them both on the back. “If I don’t return, I’ve perished in the valley of unrequited love. Remember me fondly.”

Remus shook his head, soft eyes trailing after Sirius.

“Careful, Lupin,” Snape hissed from the next table over. “Wouldn’t want everyone to know about your disgusting little crush, now would we?”

Remus’s shoulders tightened and Hermione pressed her hand over his, squeezing. Snape and his slimy Death Eater friends had been harassing him endlessly since the start of term. Now that the mystery of his monthly disappearances was solved, Snape had found new reasons to taunt him.

Snape had latched onto the changes to his appearance; the new haircut, the tattoos, his pierced nose, and now ears. Even the way he dressed had become a bit more expressive. Separately and especially together, they marked Remus as different. Add in an affectionate best friend or two, and it was enough fuel for a raging bonfire of homophobia.

Remus grit his teeth, ignoring their leering. They could say what they liked. It shouldn’t bother him.

A crumpled piece of parchment bounced off his head, landing on the table in front of them. Hermione slowly smoothed it out, revealing a crude depiction of two stick figures.

Shaking with anger, Remus growled, “Fuck this shite.”

He climbed on top of the long table, widening his stance aggressively. Casting a quick Amplifying Charm, he took a deep breath and began.

“Please excuse the interruption, but I’ve got something to say. Time to clear the air, y’know?” The other students tittered in their seats, looking up at him in confusion.

“I’m gay!” he spread his arms wide. “I’m not taking the piss. I am really, incredibly gay. Queer. It’s not a bloody insult, and I’m not ashamed of it either. I don’t give a flying fuck what you all think.”

He paused.

“And, just to be clear: No. I’m not perving on any of you ugly arseholes because I have something called standards.”

Turning to Snape, he continued, “Sorry, Severus, but you’re going to have to find someone else’s dick to suck. I’m not interested! And next time, you should really just try talking to someone face-to-face; passing notes is so juvenile.”

Hermione was quietly falling apart with laughter as he stepped down. She restrained herself long enough to murmur, “Do you mind?” as she gestured towards his makeshift podium.

“Be my guest,” he shrugged helplessly. She clambered onto the table, still giggling.

“Um, hi!” Hermione waved. “I just wanted to say that, um, I really, really like women. I’m bisexual. Unlike Remus, I'm definitely crushing on quite a few of you already. So, if you’re a girl and maybe you’ve thought about kissing other girls, you should come find me this year? I can also pretty much guarantee that I give better head than any of your ex-boyfriends.”

Remus was shaking with laughter as she hopped down, pressing her bookbag towards her. “Want to get out of here?”

“Let’s make a run for it,” she grinned back.

They hurried through the hall with some semblance of dignity, picking up speed once they were clear of the doors.

 

 

As they collapsed under the shade of a cluster of trees on the lawn, Remus wheezed, “I can’t believe I just did that. I can’t believe you just did that!”

“Hey, us queers have to stick together,” she caught his hand, squeezing. “Besides, I’ve got a good feeling about the girls at this school.” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

He snorted, “I see how it is.”

She grinned unrepentantly, “You’ve gotta risk it for the biscuit, baby.”

Remus's face rearranged itself into a more sober expression. “I just don’t want this to be something people feel like they can hold over my head, you know? It can’t be a dirty little secret anymore. Or even just an unspoken truth.”

“I know,” she murmured, nudging up against him. “I’m proud of you, love.”

He closed his eyes, leaning against her with a sigh. Their breathing evened out together and they settled back in the grass. Everything else could wait.

 

 

As they made their way back to the common room that night, James intercepted them.

Throwing his arm over Remus’s shoulders, he asked, “Think I can steal him away for a bit, Hermione?”

At Remus’s small nod, she gave a little wave, “Sure. See you boys later!”

Remus allowed himself to be pulled along in James’s wake. His friend filled the air with idle chatter as they searched for an empty classroom. Finally, they found one.

With their privacy secured, James quieted and gazed intently at Remus.

“Listen, mate—” he started. “I just want you to know. I mean, you probably already know. But just to be sure, I need to tell you that this isn’t going to change our friendship. You’re our Moony. Full stop.”

“Thanks,” Remus scratched at his arm awkwardly. “It’s... good to hear that. I really don’t want to make things weird. And I promise I haven’t been, like, looking at you lot in the showers or anything.”

James looked momentarily confused and then shook his head as if to clear it, his face breaking into a mischievous grin. “I mean, I don’t think that’s even that queer, Moony. Besides, I wouldn't want to deny you the sight of my gorgeous bum.”

He continued with dramatic flair, “I give you my express permission to appreciate its beauty on any occasion.” He threw in a cheeky wink for good measure, causing Remus to groan incredulously.

“Wow, Prongs,” he laughed. “The lengths you’d go to for a friend.”

“I’m selfless like that. Not at all narcissistically motivated.” James grinned. “It was wicked, by the way. How you did it. Nothing says ‘Power Move’ like telling the whole year you won’t suck someone’s dick.”

Remus shook his head, still smiling, “Snivellus is going to have to get his rocks off with somebody else.”

James shuddered, “Moony, please. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone!”

“Listen, though,” James said, his face becoming earnest, “You can tell me anything, okay? I’m not going anywhere no matter who you fancy or what happens on the full moon. I’ve got your back. We’ve got your back.”

“How’s he taking it?” Remus asked quietly.

James waved dismissively, “He just needs time. You know how Sirius is. He doesn’t like to be left out. Or change. Well, not that this is a change for you. But it’s an adjustment for him, you know?”

Remus chuckled, “Well, he’s only human. I don’t think any of us really like change. Creatures of habit that we are.”

“That’s our wise old man,” James grinned. “C’mere, you.”

He pulled Remus into a bone-crushing hug, fingers curling in the back of Remus’s jumper. Remus’s heart unfurled in relief as he ducked his head into his best friend's shoulder.

Notes:

Seventh year, here we go! Hope y'all liked this chapter okay. Coming out is always tough. I can understand Remus wanting to just put it out there and have done with it.

Next chapter should be lighter. Phew.

Also holy macaroni, we're up to 20k words! 😳

Big thanks to my readers and to Gradually_Watermelon and Bitten_Button for their comments since my last update!

xo Ace

Chapter 20

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The sound of the shofar seemed to hang in the air over the Black Lake. Dorcas gently lowered the ram’s horn from her lips, face bright with joy.

Remus smiled. He was happy to share this moment with his friends, his little family. Well, maybe not quite so little anymore.

Ordinarily Professor Sprout would sound the shofar and host a meal for Rosh Hashanah, but she was on temporary leave. As such, Dorcas had taken over the proceedings, inviting her Gryffindor family along with a few other Jewish students.

“What’s next?” Sirius murmured, head tilted up towards Remus, fingers tangled together between them.

The tall Ravenclaw student that stood in front of them overhead, twisting their head to smile at the boys. “Next we eat,” they laughed softly. “Dee and her friends have been preparing for this meal all week.”

“Yael, by the way,” they introduced themself. When Remus and Sirius made to do the same, they interrupted the boys, “Remus and Sirius, yes I know. I don’t think there’s a student here who doesn’t know who you are.”

Remus at least had the decency to flush, while Sirius preened at their notoriety. He shook his head fondly. Sirius had adapted quickly to his announcement in the Great Hall earlier that autumn. He guarded Remus against any threats, real or imaginary, with his steadfast presence and weaponized glare. Indeed, Remus rarely found himself alone, always in the company of a friend or two. 

True to form, Sirius hadn’t addressed anything directly, but had closed ranks with the rest of them. He doubled down on his support and protection, keeping a watchful eye on anyone who walked past. If anything, he took more opportunities to sit on Remus’s lap, curl up next to him on the lawn, or even walk hand-in-hand between classes. He would twine their fingers together as if daring anyone to say a word.

Remus was grateful for his support, of course, but it did put him in something of a predicament, as his heart fluttered with every casual touch. His body betrayed him, insisting that he become light-headed and breathless whenever Sirius murmured in his ear during class. Or outside of class, like now.

The small group of students had made their way across the lawns to where Dorcas and Lily, assisted by their friends, had set up a long table with a beautiful spread of food. Sirius took a seat across from James and Lily, tugging Remus down next to him at the table. 

At the head of the table, Dorcas cleared her throat. Everyone settled down in their seats and looked towards her. Mary and Hermione reached to squeeze her hands. Next to them, Peter and Marlene nodded encouragingly. The other students, Ezra and Miri, straightened in their chairs. And on the other end of the table, Yael leaned forward with their elbows propped up on the smooth oak. 

“Thank you for joining me in celebrating Rosh Hashanah. I know that for some of you, it’s your first time. The Jewish New Year is a time to rejoice, but also for self-reflection. My hope is that we can all use this day to consider our past and our future, to reflect on the year we leave behind and take stock of our lives as we look towards the coming year. Shanah Tovah.”

“Shanah Tovah,” her friends echoed back at her. They said a prayer together over the bread, and dug in.

“It’s all symbolic,” Ezra explained, peering up at James, who had a wiry arm slung around Lily’s shoulders. Once they’d finally taken the plunge, the two of them had become inseparable. Lily nodded encouragingly at Ezra, reaching for a slice of apple.

“Round challah for the circle of life,” Miri piped up, drizzling honey over a piece of bread. “Dipped in honey for a sweet New Year.”

“And the same with apples,” Yael smiled at the kids. “If Professor Sprout were here, we might have done tashlikh.” Nodding at the seventh years, they explained, “Tashlikh is a ritual. You throw breadcrumbs into a body of water, like the Black Lake, to ‘cast away your sins.’”

“It was fun!” Miri beamed. “We did it last year.”

“Maybe we could do it anyway?” Ezra asked hopefully.

“Maybe,” Yael smiled. “Let’s see how we feel after dinner.” They turned to Lily. “So, what’s the story with you two? I think we were all under the impression that you’d never concede to dating James.”

Lily laughed self-consciously, a light flush spreading up her neck. “He’s not so bad.” She nudged against him. “Especially once he calmed down and we could get to know each other without the pressure of grand gestures or proclamations of love.”

James winced. “I really was an arsehole.”

“Well, now you’re my arsehole,” Lily smirked.

“I don’t think that sounds how you think it does, Lils,” Sirius joked from across the table.

“Shut up, Padfoot,” James laughed. He ducked to kiss the top of Lily’s head. “You, too, Moony—I know you’re laughing.”

Remus removed the hand that he’d clapped over his mouth and grinned unrepentantly. He’d never imagined that he could have this. That he could come out and that his friends would rally around him, love him unconditionally. That they’d keep cuddling with him, teasing him, laughing with him.

As they finished dinner and threw leftover bits of challah into the Great Lake, Remus couldn’t shake an overwhelming gratitude, for his friends and for this moment in time. A tentacle flicked out of the depths and snagged some of the floating pieces of bread. The form of the Giant Squid ghosted under the surface of the lake, and the group collectively agreed that it might be time to disperse. 

 

 

One night in early December, they congregated in the common room, taking over the couch and armchairs by the warmth of the fire.

James lay with his head in Lily’s lap as she read, his feet tucked up underneath Remus. Sirius had snagged the far-side spot, slinging an arm around him. This, of course, left Hermione and Peter relegated to the armchairs, looking on in amusement.

With only a few short weeks until break, the conversation naturally turned towards their holiday plans.

“What’s the word then, Wormy?” James asked, bouncing his legs. “Can we have you for Christmas this year?”

“Sorry, Prongs,” Peter looked regretful. “My mum said we’re visiting her sister in Belfast over break.”

“Bah,” James harrumphed, digging his toes into Remus. “Moony?”

“Well, Hermione and I” he started, but was quickly interrupted by groans on either side of him.

“Hermione got you all summer,” Sirius pouted, fixing his glare upon her. “We need Moony time, too, y’know.”

“Yeah, sharing is caring.” James agreed with a pointed look.

She held up her hands defensively, “Hey, Remus is his own person, free to make his own choices.”

“It’s not my fault he likes living in London with me,” she added cheekily, earning herself a flying pillow to the face. “Oof!”

“Well, what’s it like living with the Longbottoms anyway?” James asked. “To tell you the truth, I’ve always been sort of afraid of Frank’s mum.”

“That’s true,” Sirius chimed in. “It’s the hat. That vulture is designed to intimidate.” James shuddered and Peter nodded furiously in agreement. They turned to Hermione expectantly.

“Hermione,” Lily glanced up from her book with an arched eyebrow. “I hope you know that you don’t have to submit to any of their questioning. Completely uncivilized, they are.”

“That okay, Lils,” Hermione fiddled with her sleeve. “I don’t really mind. But I actually don’t live with them anymore. Not since the beginning of summer. As you might imagine, it’s been sort of complicated.”

“Oh,” Lily marked her spot and closed the book, frowning. “So where are you—both of you—staying then?”

Remus coughed awkwardly.

“Well,” Hermione paused. “I have a flat. In Muggle London, Soho. Two bedrooms, one bath. It’s a nice set-up for the two of us.”

“Let me get this straight,” Sirius spoke in a dangerously calm voice. “You’ve been living alone, completely unsupervised, in the middle of London, since last summer.”

They both shrugged in confirmation.

“And you didn’t invite us?” James continued incredulously, sitting up raptly. Remus moved as if to escape, but both Sirius and James leapt on him. “Oh no you don’t, you traitorous bastard!”

“What happened to the Marauders' Code, Moony?” James grabbed his shirt collar.

“Yeah! Do you have any idea the kind of mischief we could get up to in Muggle London?” Sirius demanded, as he continued to weigh down Remus’s right side, knee digging into Remus’s thigh.

“Maybe that’s why I didn’t tell you,” Remus’s wry tone was betrayed by his shortness of breath. “I have a very good idea of what you lot would get up to.”

Meanwhile, Lily had turned to Hermione with an appraising eye. “So you don’t really have Christmas plans, then?”

Hermione shrugged. “Not specifically. I want to see my—well, not girlfriend exactly. But something like that.”

Lily nodded, tugging on James to pull him back towards her and off Remus. “Did you hear that, babe?” she asked pointedly.

He opened his mouth and then shut it firmly, shaking his head guiltily.

“Your two friends,” she nodded towards Remus and Hermione, “don’t have Christmas plans.” His mouth rounded into an ‘O’ as she continued, “Don’t you think your parents would just love to have more of your friends visit?”

“Cor! You're brilliant, you are,” he exclaimed, kissing her elatedly. He turned his attention to Remus and Hermione, steepling his fingers. “Okay, here’s the plan. Everyone comes home with me for Christmas. Lily, I’m hoping that by now I’ve talked you into coming for a few days to meet my folks.” He turned his puppy dog eyes towards her, and Sirius picked up the thread.

“And after Christmas, we can all visit London for New Year's! You have room, right?” he smiled hopefully at Remus, who looked helplessly towards Hermione. She shrugged but still appeared rather charmed by it all.

“Okay,” Hermione countered. “Christmas at the Potters. Then we take a brief pause so Remus and I can ready the flat. We can meet back up in London for the last few days of break. Deal?”

James and Sirius looked to each other and then back at her, “Deal!”

Lily’s lips twitched into a smile, “What have I gotten myself into?”

Notes:

Big thank you to my friend, Sarah, for her help with this chapter.

xo Ace

Chapter 21

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

A few days before Christmas, the five of them took the Hogwarts Express to London and then another train out into the countryside. James and Sirius took turns pointing out landmarks and entertaining them with little stories as they whizzed past. Some were true, but mostly they were talking out of their asses.

James hired a taxi to take them the rest of the way, and they piled in on top of each other. The Potters lived on the edge of the village, just far enough out to lend them a bit of privacy and space. They had a large plot that was shaded with alder trees. When you drove up through them along the brick driveway, a Georgian manor house was revealed. Very Jane Austen. Hermione was instantly charmed by the vine-covered brick and bright, numerous windows.

“Boys!” Fleamont exclaimed in delight as his sons descended upon him and his wife.

“Dad!” James said, the sound muffled from how his face was pressed into his father’s shoulder. “Missed you.”

Fleamont smiled, his hazel eyes crinkling behind the delicate glasses that perched atop the bridge of his nose.

“Oi! Budge over,” Sirius grinned, jostling James out of the way. “Hey dad.”

Euphemia smiled fondly at her boys. Her smooth brown skin showed few signs of age, although her dark hair was streaked with gray.

James darted back to Lily’s side, clasping her hand. “Mum, Dad—this is Lily.”

Hermione hid a smile. She could tell that James was trying to play it cool, but the fact that he was practically quivering in excitement rather ruined the effect.

“So lovely to meet you, Lily,” Euphemia winked. “Obviously we’ve not heard a word about you. It’s all very sudden.”

Lily giggled, “Yes, I don’t think James even knew I existed the past six years.”

“Very funny, guys,” James rolled his eyes, but couldn’t quite stop himself from smiling. “And this is my friend, Hermione.”

“Thank you so much for having us, Mrs. Potter,” Hermione stepped forward tentatively.

“It’s our pleasure. And call me Effie,” she smiled, reaching to clasp Hermione’s hand. 

“Fleamont,” her husband said, sliding an arm around her waist. “And Effie is absolutely right. This house is too big when the kids aren’t around. We love having you all here.”

“It certainly is large,” Lily agreed, looking around with interest. “Do I get the grand tour now or later?”

“Oh, sign me up, too!” Hermione linked arms with her. “Your home is absolutely gorgeous.”

Fleamont beamed, “I think a tour could be arranged. You’ll both be wanting to see the library, of course.”

“At least let them put down their things, dear,” Euphemia suggested, looking at him fondly.

“Right!” James chirped. “Let me show you to the guest room.”

Sirius tugged on Remus’s sleeve. “Bunk with me?” he asked hopefully.

“Okay,” Remus hedged. “But I’m instituting quiet hours.”

“But Moony, it’s the holidays!” Sirius whined.

“Yes,” Remus said slowly, “And I, for one, would like to catch up on sleep. Maybe read a book.” He shrugged, folding his arms, “Those are my terms. Take them or leave them.”

“Fine,” Sirius muttered begrudgingly. “Quiet hours. Now let’s go! I got some more posters up after you visited last summer! You’ll love them.”

“I’m sure I will,” Remus smiled, following Sirius up the staircase. He let Sirius show off his Sex Pistols and The Clash posters as he set down his bag and settled back on the bed. Soon enough, Sirius joined him, curling up against Remus’s side.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Sirius murmured, tucking an arm around Remus’s middle.

“Me too,” Remus closed his eyes and let his left hand come up to rest on top of Sirius’s arm. He relaxed into the familiar sound of Sirius’s breath and the steady thud of his heart.

 

 

The next day, Fleamont made pancakes in the morning and then Euphemia took over the kitchen. Remus and Hermione volunteered to lend her a hand and were set to work mincing peppers and garlic, toasting spices, and chopping vegetables.

Meanwhile, Fleamont led an expedition to pick out a Christmas tree.

“A little late for it,” he admitted, “But we thought you kids would get a kick out of it.”

“Tosh,” Sirius teased. “You forgot, didn’t you?”

Fleamont scratched his head. “Now, Sirius,” he began as James snickered.

“Dad, you're such a bad liar,” James slung an arm around his father. “But let’s do it! Lily hasn’t seen much of the village yet. Maybe we can stop off for Jammie Dodgers.”

The house emptied out, and Remus and Hermione guiltily exchanged relieved glances.

“Nice to have a bit of peace and quiet, isn’t it?” Euphemia smiled knowingly. “I love my boys, but they’re a handful. Fleamont included if you can believe it!”

“I think I can see that,” Hermione smiled to herself, pouring the toasted cumin seeds into a mortar.

“Do you mind a bit of music?” Euphemia asked, wiping her hands on her apron. With their assent, she turned on the wireless. A combination of Muggle and wizarding Christmas music was on.

“Thank you for tuning into Harvey Hour. I’m your host, Mortimer Harvey. Next up we have Madame Bletchely’s latest holiday single, just in time for Christmas.”

Euphemia smiled, humming along under her breath as the song began. She picked up the corner of a damp cloth that lay on the counter and removed a large round of dough. As she began to divide it into even pieces, she noticed Hermione watching. 

“Would you like to help?” she asked. Hermione started in surprise, but nodded tentatively.

“Each piece needs to be rolled into a smooth ball,” she explained. “Leave the dough covered when you’re not working with it, so that it doesn’t dry out.”

Hermione shaped the dough like Euphemia showed her, while the older woman bustled about the kitchen checking on various dishes.

“How often do you cook like this?” Hermione asked. “It seems like such an undertaking.”

“It is,” Euphemia laughed. “I pull out all the stops when James is home. But when it’s just me and Fleamont, we eat much more simply.”

“That makes sense. How did the two of you meet?”

“Well, I grew up in India. Most of my family still lives in Mumbai,” Euphemia explained. “Fleamont lived abroad for a time when he was developing Sleekeazy’s. That’s when we met. I was a partner at one of the Potions shops. Fleamont was always stopping by, asking after rare ingredients like Occamy eggs or preserved Malabar Lilies, although it became clear over time that it was just an excuse to talk to me.”

“How sweet,” Remus smiled, resting against a counter top.

“It was,” Euphemia agreed. “Fleamont always had this way about him. He really is a romantic at heart.”

“Sounds like somebody else we know,” Hermione laughed.

“Yes, although I think he’d aged into a more... nuanced approach than James had at first.” She shook her head fondly. “I didn’t come back to England with him when he left. He’d asked me to go with him, but I didn’t want to leave my home behind.”

“What made you change your mind?” Hermione asked softly.

“I was in love with him,” Euphemia sighed. “I gave it a year, and when my feelings still hadn’t changed, I came after him. And the rest is history.”

They fell into a rhythm of easy chatter as Hermione finished shaping the dough.

By the time the rest of the family had returned with a tree, the house was inundated with the divine smell of curry. Everyone convened for an early dinner, passing chutneys and raita around as they chattered happily about their afternoons.

Sirius and James took point on decorating the tree that evening, doing a surprisingly passable job. The tree they’d chosen leaned a bit but was full and bushy—and now, covered in enchanted candles and homemade ornaments : miniature broomsticks and proud hippogriffs alike zoomed around the branches.

As Hermione looked around the room, she felt warmth blooming in her belly at the sight of this family. She wished Harry could have seen them like this, cuddled up on the couches, teasing one another good-humoredly, and trading a tin of biscuits and a bowl of Pan Pasands around. Sirius and Remus had curled up together under a blanket, Sirius having half-burrowed up underneath his chin. James held Lily’s hand on his knee, smiling like a loon. And Euphemia and Fleamont stood near the tree, swaying together to the music. Hermione tucked her knees up to her chin and closed her eyes, letting the music and chatter wash over her.

 

 

Remus and Hermione had taken their leave after Boxing Day, heading back to London. They’d had good intentions about getting the flat in order right away, but teenage hormones had gotten the better of both of them.

While they hadn’t been in contact during the fall term, Billie had apparently been keeping her break open “just in case” the opportunity to see Hermione arose. They tumbled back into bed together like the past four months hadn’t even happened, all sweet, open-mouthed kisses and clever tongues.

Remus had taken advantage of their proximity to gay bars and clubs to try and pull most nights. While he didn’t particularly like going out by himself, he rationalized that it was necessary in his current predicament. Being infatuated with your best friend could be... challenging. Particularly when that friend was as handsy as Sirius was.

The Friday that their guests were scheduled to arrive, he and Hermione finally got to work. They threw out the grisly remains of Remus’s plants, tackled the built-up dishes, changed the sheets, and dealt with the encroaching mold in the tub.

Freshly showered and thoroughly exhausted, they collapsed on the couch together.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t try and meet them?” Hermione yawned.

“Eh,” Remus settled even further back into the couch cushions. “Lily’s capable. She’ll make sure they get here alright.”

Hermione nudged him with her outstretched toes. “Excited? Nervous?”

He didn’t answer for a minute, mulling it over.

“I think both,” he responded slowly. “I know everyone’s been cool so far. But there’s still a part of me that’s worried about them seeing me here, or seeing other queer people together.”

He laughed softly, “I mean, Bang is... an experience. And that’s still the plan for New Year's, right?”

“Yeah, Billie says it’s the place to be. Although we could switch it up,” she chewed on her bottom lip. “But I really think they’ll be fine, Remus. Honestly, I think they’ll love it. Being here, being with you.”

“I know, I know,” he sighed. Hermione pursed her lips, considering.

Carefully, she asked, “Remus... are you sure sure Sirius isn’t queer? I know you said he wasn’t, but that was before. And seeing you two together, I just—”

She trailed off, watching him as he squirmed.

“I’m not... one hundred percent sure,” he admitted. “There was a moment over Christmas. I was sure he was going to kiss me. His face was so close,” he paused. “But he was just grabbing something from behind me in the kitchen.”

He bit his fingernails, “I think I’m just reading too much into things. He’s always been affectionate. This isn’t even a stretch.”

“Alright,” she reached to squeeze his hand where it rested along the back of the couch.

Notes:

Okay, I had originally meant for Christmas & New Years to all be one chapter. But it got away from me! So, I'm giving y'all part one now, and part two as soon as I finish it. 😅

Big thanks to GrimmlyHallows and BellaCappa for their comments on the last chapter.

I posted about the fic on TikTok - very curious if any of y'all end up reading it! Let me know in the comments.

xo Ace

P.S. THANK YOU for 100 kudos! This makes me so happy. 💕

Chapter 22

Notes:

If you're following along with the music, make sure to pull up the Spotify playlist! https://linktr.ee/gayfiction

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Their friends were seemingly awed by their flat, even though the tour lasted approximately three minutes, concluding in their spacious bathroom.

“I’m glad you’re pleased,” Remus said wryly, watching as Sirius and James climbed into the tub just as he and Hermione had that first day. “I spent probably an hour scrubbing that thing this morning.”

“Beautiful work, my dear Moony,” Sirius proclaimed grandly, inspecting the porcelain.

“Hmm yes, yes,” James agreed. “That’s our Moony! A proper host.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “I suppose we could continue the tour in the neighborhood instead. There’s a bit more to see than in here.”

“Can we start next door?” Sirius asked, waggling his eyebrows as he alluded to the strip club that remained their closest neighbor.

“Absolutely not!” Lily swatted at him. “Perv,” she muttered under her breath. 

Remus snorted, “Good to have you here, Lils.”

“I’m doing my best,” she said, shaking her head. “You would not believe the time I had getting these two here. They’re like children in a candy shop.”

“Oh, I think I can imagine it just fine,” he replied drily.

“Okay,” Hermione clapped twice. “Let’s get moving! I think our first stop should be that good charity shop on Lexington.”

“Twist my arm,” Lily grinned. “Lead on!”

Remus breathed a sigh of relief as the afternoon passed without a hitch. Sirius had tugged on his arm several times as he spotted passersby he found particularly stylish or cool, “Moony,” he’d hissed. “Did you see their hair? Very Ziggy Stardust!” 

Sirius and Lily had both taken to the local charity shops like fish to water. Lily veered a bit more vintage, drawn to soft cardigans and silk scarves. Sirius, of course, was thrilled by band T-shirts and leather. James was just happy to be there, gassing everyone up and happily submitting to whatever outfits people wanted to dress him in.

They stopped by the Anchor on their way home, figuring that beer and pub food was as good a plan for dinner as any. As the group slid into a booth, Remus hung back as he shook off his denim jacket and unwound the chunky scarf that Hermione had knitted him. He left the matching beanie on, though, to keep his ears warm.

“I’m going to go grab us a round of pints,” he said, glancing over to the bar where Kenji was working. Hermione smirked, settling in against Lily.

It was still fairly early, so it wasn’t too crowded up by the bar. Hermione watched with interest as Sirius kept stealing glances over to where Remus was leaning on the counter, all tartan trousers and coy smiles. He and Kenji were flirting, it was obvious even at a distance.

Sirius’s shoulders had tensed as he watched them intently, abandoning any pretense of not paying them any mind. She stuck her foot out and nudged him from across the table, nodding towards the bar, “Do you want to see if he needs help? Might be a bit of a handful.”

He jolted, eying her a bit guiltily but the tension in his shoulders eased.

“Right you are, Longbottom,” he murmured, mouth turning up in the barest of smiles. “Thanks.”

He smoothly inserted himself next to Remus at the bar, introducing himself with all the apparent friendliness of a viper.

They returned shortly thereafter with pints for all, Sirius tugging Remus into the booth next to him. He casually draped an arm around the back of the booth, playing with the top of Remus’s jumper. Hermione insisted on picking up the next round.

 

 

On New Year's Eve, they got ready together at the flat. Lily was a tad nervous, having heard about yet another Muggle attack over the break. Voldemort was rising quickly. Hermione wished she was able to relate more honestly to her friend as a Muggle-born, but under the cover she’d been given, that wasn’t possible.

James did his best to lift everyone’s spirits, insisting that they choose his outfit for the evening. He was perfectly open to a little smoky eye, as well, which Lily applied inexpertly. Standing back, she cocked her head.

“Well,” she began. “It works. It’s not perfect, but I think that somehow makes it better, don’t you agree?”

“I do,” Hermione smirked, “Very sexy in a messy sort of way.”

“Move it, Prongs,” Sirius grinned, abandoning the bottles of nail polish that he’d spread across the floor. With a little encouragement from Hermione, he’d painted his nails cherry red. While a tad sloppy, the colour did pop and Sirius seemed pleased. 

He plopped down into James’s seat. “Me next! Maybe just eyeliner though?”

Lily’s shoulders shook with laughter, “Okay, if you insist.”

Hermione had acquired a compact of glittering powder, which she applied liberally to herself and Remus. She’d talked him into borrowing a pair of her fishnets, which he wore under tattered, rolled-up jeans.

“C’mon, Remus,” she wheedled. “The crop top. Just for me. Just this once.”

He squirmed uncomfortably as she continued dusting his eyelids.

“CROP TOP, CROP TOP,” James started to chant, Sirius joining in immediately.

“Fine, fine,” he sighed, pushing Hermione away, “But no more glitter!”

 

 

They walked to Bang, meeting Billie and Elliot around the corner. Billie practically leapt at Hermione, sweeping her arms around her in delight. They spun around in a tight circle together.

“It’s New Year’s Eve!” Billie beamed. “1978’s going to be a good year! I can feel it.”

Hermione laughed, pulling her closer, “Aw, babe! Saving a midnight kiss for me, I hope?”

Remus grinned at Elliot, shaking his head. “It’s sick how sweet they are, don’t you think?”

He shrugged, worrying his bottom lip coyly, “I think Billie might throw me out for being a hypocrite if I agreed with you.”

“Well, congratulations then,” Remus laughed, tugging him into a hug. “C’mere, man.”

“Love the scruff,” he murmured in Elliot’s ear. “Very sexy.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Elliot laughed breathlessly. “I do, too.”

They separated slowly, hands lingering on each other. Elliot trailed a finger down Remus’s arm, tracing his tattooed scars.

To his left, Sirius coughed pointedly, jolting them both.

“Wow,” Remus laughed. “Sorry, guys. This is my friend, Elliot. He’s the one I was telling you about; the tattoo artist.”

As Remus introduced the rest of their crew, Elliot stuffed his hands in his pockets sheepishly.

“Good to meet you all, but I’m actually just stopping by to say ‘hi.’ I’m meeting my boyfriend at another, much smaller party,” He said wryly.

Billie wrapped her arms around him, pressing up against his back.

“Appreciate you walking me over, love,” she purred. Briefly letting one arm go in order to wave at them, she addressed the group. “Hi everyone! I’m Billie. Hermione’s warned me about all of you.”

Her smile widening, she continued, “I think we’re going to get on splendidly.”

“God help me,” Lily muttered. “Not another one.”

“I’m afraid so,” Remus shook his head. “She’s an... experience.”

“Well, as ecstatic as I am to welcome another marauding spirit to our midst, might we take this party inside?” James was shivering all over. “It’s a little chilly in this get-up.”

Lily grinned, eying him up and down, “But it looks so good, babe.”

James flushed, pleased and uncharacteristically shy. He started attempting to dance. “I’ll look even better on the dance floor.” He waggled his eyebrows, swinging his hips to and fro.

Lily stifled a laugh, “That’s... debatable. But at least you’ll be warm.”

The group made their way through the line and into the pulsing club. Billie took the lead, directing them straight to the bar. They followed her like a train of ducklings. As they made their way through a few rounds of shots, the three newcomers looked around in awe.

The club was jam-packed, every patron dressed up however they saw fit. Club goers decked out in gaudy suits, leather harnesses, and sequined jumpsuits swayed to the throbbing music in every corner.

“C’mon, you lot,” Hermione shouted. “Enough drinking; let’s dance !”

Ra ra Rasputin
Lover of the Russian queen
There was a cat that really was gone
Ra ra Rasputin
Russia's greatest love machine
It was a shame how he carried on

Out on the floor, they took cues from their neighbors, bodies pressed up against one another. Remus found himself sandwiched between Sirius and James as they let loose. James had thrown his arms around Remus’s neck, bopping about as Lily tried to match him from behind. Sirius pressed up against his back, resting his hands along Remus’s sides, where fishnet turned to soft skin. He shivered, delighting in the feeling of those beautiful hands.

You mean I've been dancin' on the floor darlin'
And I feel like I need some more and I
Feel your body close to mine and I
Move on love it's about that time
Make me feel - mighty real
Make me feel - mighty real

When we get home darlin' and it's
Nice and dark and the music's in Vienna
Still your hot and you kiss me back and it
Feels real good and I know you love me
Like you should

They were sticky with sweat by the time midnight approached. Lily had tamed James’s dancing to the best of her ability, guiding him gently towards the beat. She was grateful for Billie’s good example. Sirius had been delighted to recognize some of the music played, his voice rising with the crowd as the club sang along. Remus felt like his heart might actually explode, surrounded by his little family that night.

Of course, his warm feelings quickly dissolved into panic as the countdown began. The crowd around them chanted and Remus's eared roared with the mounting tension. 

Ten, Nine

James and Lily were smiling dopily at each other. He looked helplessly around to Hermione only to find her smirking at him from within Billie's arms.

Eight, Seven

She rolled her eyes and bumped into him. He took an off-kilter step sideways into Sirius, who steadied him with firm hands.

Six, Five, Four

His breath caught as Sirius reached up to thumb along his jawline. Remus’s skin felt impossibly alive, charged and itchy and rapturous all at once.

Three, Two, One

Zeroing in on the sensation of Sirius’s fingers, he closed his eyes and let the world around them fall away. He felt one hand trace along to the curve of his neck, while the other slid around his back, tightening to pull him closer.

Soft lips pressed against his as cheers of “HAPPY NEW YEAR” rang throughout the building.

Notes:

Okay, big chapter! @Aggiesaurus and @BellaCappa, I hope you're happy. 😉

And just in time for NYE in our time!

Drop me some love in the comments if you're feeling it.

xo Ace

P.S. If you're listening along, these are the two songs:
Rasputin - Boney M.
You Make Me Feel (Mighty Real) - Sylvester

Update 7/29/21: And a special addition for y'all! Commissioned artwork by the incomparable Pesto Prongs!

NYE_commission

Chapter 23

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The Room of Requirement had had two main configurations over the past few years, but these days they primarily asked it to provide space to train, rather than a private den in which to plot.

Sweat dripped down Remus’s neck as he side-stepped and leaned and inevitably flew across the room as one of Hermione’s Knockback Jinxes landed. He hit the wall hard, grunting in pain.

“Fuck me,” he groaned.

“Had enough?” Hermione smirked, twirling her wand as she walked over.

“...Five minutes,” he lifted the hem of his shirt to wipe off his face. “I think I can go again. I just need a little breather.”

“Hey, you’re doing better than me,” she slid down on the wall next to him. “I have neither your reflexes, nor stamina.”

“You know, when we set out to save the world, I didn’t really envision you confiscating my wand and making me dodge spell after spell.”

She giggled, knocking their shoulders together. “I’m terrible like that.”

“You’re telling me,” he sighed.

They sat in silence for a few moments, until Hermione cast a teasing glance his way.

“So,” she began.

“So,” he repeated.

“New Year's, huh? That was a little while ago now.”

“Indeed it was,” he looked away, twiddling his thumbs.

“Well,” she wheedled. “Status update? If you two still haven’t boned...”

“We’re not boning,” he muttered, even as a flush crept up his neck. He chewed his bottom lip. “I mean, yeah we kissed that night. But maybe it was just as friends?”

At her incredulous look, he continued, completely flustered, “Nothing else has happened! We never addressed it. He just acted like it was completely normal to kiss your gay best friend on New Year's!”

“You’re telling me literally nothing else? Not a word?”

“I’m sorry to disappoint, but yeah. If anything, he’s a bit less cuddly this term. I mean, it’s Sirius. It’s not like he’s totally hands-off. But still.”

Hermione groaned, smacking herself in the forehead. “My god. Remus Lupin, you are clueless!”

He shifted uncomfortably. “Not an inaccurate statement, most likely. But may I ask why you think so?”

She sighed, squaring up to him. “Okay hear me out on this. In the past two and a half years that I’ve seen you interact, he is almost always the initiator. Cuddling, holding hands, sleeping together. He’s been making moves for years, even if neither of you recognized it at the time. Now, he’s gone and kissed you. It doesn’t get any more obvious, or intentional, than that.”

She paused, eying him significantly. “Ball’s in your court, baby. You need to get off your ass and take some initiative.”

“Hermione, there’s still a non-zero chance that he’s not queer—”

She cut him off, shaking her head. “Remus! That man is about as straight as instant ramen. He’s got big gay feelings for you. And even if I’m wrong, if Lily’s wrong, and he is straight—he wouldn’t be uncomfortable with you making a move on him. He’d love it!”

“Ugh, I hate it when you’re right,” he muttered.

“So, like, always?” she teased.

“Let’s just get back to work,” he shook his head in amusement, brushing himself off as he rose.

 

 

True to character, Remus continued sitting on his hands, perpetually waffling between maintaining the status quo and taking a leap of faith.

As he sat in the common room sandwiched between Hermione and Lily, he let the party drown out his thoughts. Gryffindor had just beaten Hufflepuff, and the whole house was raging in delight.

At the center of it all, James and Sirius beamed as they basked in the moment of one of their last quidditch matches, and a victory at that.

“All I’m saying is it’s a damn shame for the League that we’ve decided to become champions of justice instead of pro players,” James proclaimed, ruffling his hair.

“Yeah, the League will mourn this loss for years to come,” Sirius leaned on James’s shoulder, still grinning from ear to ear.

Hermione’s eyebrows flew up, as she processed this new information. “Hold on,” she said. “I cannot be hearing this right. Do you mean to tell me that you’re becoming Aurors?”

Upon their confirmation, she continued, “Law enforcement? The wizarding police? Magic cops?” She cackled with laugher, as Lily hid a smile.

“Oh shove off, Longbottom,” Sirius rolled his eyes. “Your Negative Nancy-ing has no place in this realm of celebration!”

Remus snorted, “You heard the man, Hermione. They’re paragons of compliance.”

“Meanies,” Sirius muttered, huffing. “What’s so wrong about wanting to fight for what’s right?”

As Hermione began expounding on the problematic nature of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement specifically and systems of law and policing more generally, Remus took the opportunity to slip away.

With the full moon only a few days away, Remus’s bones ached and his temple throbbed. He disappeared up to the dorm for a joint, and a lie-down. He inhaled deeply, letting the smoke fill his lungs before exhaling.

By the time Sirius came upstairs, Remus’s pain had largely subsided. He sat up as Sirius burst through the door and made a beeline for him.

“Moony,” Sirius complained, plonking down next to him. “Why have you abandoned us?”

“Too loud,” Remus cast a glance at him pointedly. To his credit, Sirius lowered his voice as he continued, “But how can I sit on your lap when you’re not there?”

His heart beating a little faster, Remus forced his voice to remain unaffected, “Well, you could just stay here. Abandon your party for some cuddles.”

“I could be persuaded,” Sirius didn’t look at all displeased by the idea.

“Hmm,” Remus hummed, lifting Sirius’s left hand palm-up. Cradling it in his, he traced the lines there with the pad of his thumb. Sirius shivered, leaning his shoulders against Remus.

“I like it when you touch me,” Sirius murmured.

“Is that right?” Remus smiled, biting back a quip about never having known.

“Yeah,” Sirius purred, hesitating for just a moment. “I wish you touched me more.”

Remus stilled, caught on the precipice of this moment that could change everything. Mind clearing with resolve, he stepped into the unknown.

He traced up Sirius’s wrist, “And how do you wish I touched you?”

Sirius’s breath hitched as Remus gently guided the hand he held up to his mouth, pressing slow, deliberate kisses to his palm.

“Like that?” Remus asked, looking up at Sirius through lowered lashes. Sirius blinked dazedly, nodding a little.

“Or maybe like this?” Remus enveloped Sirius’s thumb in his mouth, lightly scraping it between his teeth as he slowly released it.

Sirius groaned, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before dazedly meeting Remus’s, “Are you trying to kill me, Moony?”

“Is that a yes? You liked that?” Remus asked innocently as he shifted Sirius up on the bed, covering the other boy’s body with his own. He kept his weight partially off Sirius, resting on his forearms above him.

“Yes!” Sirius snapped when Remus paused above him. “Yes, I liked it. Yes, I want this. Yes, I want you.”

“Good,” Remus breathed, relaxing his head down towards him. “Because I’d really like to kiss you again.”

“Well, crack on already and stop teasing me,” Sirius growled, shifting underneath him and arching up into Remus.

“Cheeky bugger,” Remus muttered fondly, pressing their mouths together as Sirius wound his arms around Remus’s neck.

When their friends came up to bed that evening, James took one look at them, curled up together under the covers with bruised lips and hair in disarray, and breathed a sigh of relief.

“Oh thank Merlin,” he grinned. “I thought it was never going to happen.”

Notes:

Here we go, finally! Let the wolfstar begin in earnest.

Thank you Gradually_Watermelon and Aggiesaurus for commenting on my News Years chapter! Y'all are keeping me writing with your lovely comments.

Cross your fingers for me today. I'm coming out to everyone (not just the friends I know are safe) as non-binary today. Big woof.

xo Ace

Chapter 24

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

It had been weeks since ‘The Great Seduction’ as James had taken to calling it. Utterly delighted by his friends’ new relationship, he’d pulled all the details he could manage from Remus and Sirius. It had the effect of loosening Remus’s shoulders and affirming that he really was free to be himself around his friends. 

Now, as they gathered in the Gryffindor common room, Remus felt light as he ever had. He sat in one of the tufted armchairs, with Sirius splayed across his lap, his T-shirt soft to the touch . Remus lazily slid his fingers through Sirius’s silky hair, still marveling at the fact that this was something he could comfortably just... do now.

He smiled over at his friends who had commandeered the couch. Lily, James, Hermione, and Marlene had all squeezed together in a tangle of limbs, giggling as they jostled each other. Peter sat in the armchair opposite him, squirming in his seat a little. Dorcas had settled by the fire, knees drawn up and her hands clasped around them.

As Sirius turned his head to steal a lingering kiss, Remus’s heart warmed. He’d half-expected Sirius to want to keep their entanglement confined to dark cupboards or the privacy of their dormitory. But, that hadn’t been the case. They continued to cuddle and hold hands as they did before, and now they occasionally brushed their lips together at breakfast or stopped in the halls between classes for a quick snog.

In their early days of rolling around in the sheets, Remus had warned him that it wouldn’t always be easy, that he would understand if Sirius didn’t want to come out yet. But Sirius hadn’t given a whit, growling that he could never be ashamed to be with Remus in any capacity. And fuck what anyone else thought. A predictably Sirius reaction, in hindsight.

Their friends, in general, were preoccupied with the hazy, but growing ever-closer, concept of ‘life after Hogwarts.’

“I think I’ve finally settled it,” Lily leaned her head against James. “I’m applying to train at St. Mungo’s after graduation. I want to help people directly, and I think that’s the best way for me to do it.”

“Congrats, Lils,” Remus smiled warmly at her. “You’re going to be a great Healer.”

“Might need a little work on her bedside manner,” Sirius barked a laugh as she gave him the finger. “See? Perfect example. Very poor form.”

“I’ll remember that the first time you ask me for help,” she narrowed her eyes at him.

“Careful, Padfoot,” James laughed. “I think you’ll want to be in her good graces. I hear the first year of Auror training is rough as all get out.”

“Hey, with you at my side, what could go wrong?” Sirius grinned.

“You do realize it’s incredibly unlikely you’ll be partnered together either in training or afterwards?” Lily asked wrly.

“Shhh,” James pressed a finger to her lips. “Let us have this.”

“Whatever makes you happy,” she shook her head in amusement.

“What about you, Peter?” Hermione asked, looking at him intently. “What are your plans after Hogwarts?”

He shrugged nervously, “I’m n-not sure, really. I think I’m going to move back home while I look at options.”

“I’m going to keep living at home, too,” Marlene piped up. “Cheaper that way, and they’ve got a Floo connection. Plus I can bother my wee brother over the summer.”

"He'll hate that," she added smugly. 

“Are you going back to the Daily Prophet? I remember you did some interning there last summer.” Hermione asked.

“Cheers!” Marlene straightened in excitement. “I’m hoping to land an entry-level job there. They said it was likely; just can’t flunk all my N.E.W.T.s.”

“I’m heading back to Liverpool,” Dorcas smiled. “I’ll miss seeing you lot everyday. But I’ll be London enough I’m sure.”

“Are you still thinking about taking a gap year, Dee?” Remus asked.

Dorcas nodded. “I don’t really know what I want to do yet. I don’t want to rush into anything.”

“Always so practical,” Lily smiled. She nudged Hermione. “What are your plans, then? You’d been undecided before.”

Hermione shrugged, “I think I’m just going to look into working as a clerk somewhere for the time being.”

Lily drew back, appalled. “You’re joking! But you’re so talented! You’d be an asset to any profession.”

“Menial labor is still valid and necessary,” Hermione replied stiffly. “Besides, there’ll be time later. In the meantime, I want to focus on the war effort.”

James’s brows furrowed. “Not you, too. Moony’s already given us the same excuse. You’re two of the brightest minds at Hogwarts!”

“Part-time shop boy, full-time lover,” Remus joked, squeezing Sirius in an effort to dissipate some of the tension he had felt creep into his shoulders.

James jolted, checking the time. “Pads! We’re going to be late for practice. Let’s shake a leg!”

“Pete,” Remus nodded at him as Sirius unfurled from his lap. “You should go watch. I bet they’d appreciate it, and lord knows I’m not going to.”

Peter chuckled and readily agreed, following the two boys out of the common room.

“Well,” Lily sat up and stretched. “I think Marlene and I are going to head to the library for revision. You three want to join?”

“You bet,” Dorcas smiled, picking herself up off the floor. “I could use some help on Charms.”

Lily linked arms with her and raised her eyebrows at Remus.

“Nah,” Remus sank further into the armchair. “I refuse to sink my whole weekend into that cursed exam.”

“Well,” she clucked, eying him in disapproval. “I suppose if you’re not planning to put your results to good use...”

He stuck out his tongue, fishing for the novel he’d abandoned earlier.

“I think I’ll stick around, too,” Hermione smirked. “Like you say, we don’t exactly need them.”

Remus smirked as Lily heaved a sigh of annoyance, muttering “stupid, brilliant idiots” under her breath.

Finally, they’d all left the common room, leaving the two of them alone. Remus and Hermione waited a few more minutes to be safe, and then they made their way to the dungeons.

They’d been trying to cross paths with him for weeks now without success, and they were running out of time.

Lurking behind a nearby tapestry, they waited to see who would emerge from the Slytherin common room. Snape and Mulciber passed by, speaking in hushed whispers.

Finally, they saw a lone figure emerge through the stone passage. He was small even at seventeen; the type of boy who could blend into the shadows as he pleased.

He stilled and turned his grey eyes towards them as the tapestry rustled. Eyes narrowing in comprehension, he slipped inside the nook and leaned against the wall opposite them.

“My, my,” he leered. “What would my brother say, if he knew you two had been skulking about down here for weeks?”

“Regulus,” Remus said, straightening his shoulders. “We needed to speak with you. In private.”

“This should be interesting.” Regulus folded his arms across his chest.

“Listen,” Hermione frowned at him. “There may come a time when you need our help. When that happens, come find us. We can help you, and we won’t involve anyone else.”

His brow furrowed when she slipped him a small piece of parchment as they passed by.

“Wait,” he said, grasping Remus and pulling him closer. He paused. 

“Just... take care of him,” Regulus murmured. Remus met his gaze and nodded curtly.

 

 

Remus and Sirius lay in bed together, feeling satisfied and blissfully lazy. Sirius shivered as Remus ran a finger lightly over his bare skin.

“That was new,” Sirius yawned. “I’d never done that before.”

Remus’s lips curved into a smile, “Good, right?”

“Very,” Sirius snuggled into Remus’s chest. “We should do it again sometime.”

“I think that could be arranged.”

They lapsed into contented silence, Sirius’s breath evening out to the point that Remus thought he was asleep.

But then he spoke again. “It’ll just be the two of us, huh?”

“Hmm?” Remus hummed.

“After graduation,” Sirius explained. “I’m still a bit bummed that Prongs is leaving us for Lily. But at least we’ll have each other. It’ll be nice, right? Falling asleep and waking up like this every morning?”

Remus shifted, feeling more awake and more uncomfortable with every passing second.

“Pads,” he began, throat closing up. He cleared it. “You do know that I live with Hermione, right? We have a flat together.”

Sirius tensed.

“Yes,” he spoke slowly. “She offered you a place to stay when you didn’t want to go home, I get that. But we can live together now; I have that money from Uncle Alphard. You wouldn’t even have to pay rent.”

Remus shook his head, extricating himself from Sirius in order to sit up.

“But I want to keep living with her,” he explained. “Hermione and I get on really well; we make good flatmates. Obviously you and I will see each other all the time, but I think it’s better that we’re not living on top of each other. You know?” He couldn't very well include the biggest motivating factor; that he and Hermione needed that privacy and built-in time together for what lay ahead.

Sirius turned his head away, lips pinching.

“She’s a bad influence on you,” he seethed. “The Moony I know would never give up on a real career.”

Remus bristled. “You have no idea what it’s like, Sirius. To be a werewolf. The discrimination we face.” He grit his teeth. “Don’t you ever wonder why I’m the first student at Hogwarts with this... affliction? That they had to plant the whomping willow and set up these special accommodations? It’s not like there haven’t been other werewolf children with magical abilities.”

Sirius stared at him mutely, and Remus forced himself to breathe. “What’s waiting for us out there... what’s waiting for me, it’s not going to be pretty.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Sirius bit out. “About that, or—or that you never intended to live with us after Hogwarts. You let me believe—”

Remus rubbed a hand across his face, wearily. “I wasn’t sure that you’d understand. And I didn’t mean to lie to you. I didn’t realize you thought everything was settled.”

They avoided eye contact awkwardly. “Are we okay?” Remus whispered.

“I think—I think I need some time,” Sirius scrambled off the bed, throwing on some jeans and a jumper. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

Remus was still sitting frozen on the bed, feeling sick to his stomach, when James poked his head in. He frowned, seeing Remus.

“Moony, where’s Padfoot?”

Remus shrugged, “We had a bit of a... row. He left.”

“Oh,” James sat tentatively next to him, picking up a jumper off the floor. “Are you cold? I would be cold if I were you.”

Remus snorted, pulling it over his head. “Ta.”

“Do you want some help deciphering the great mystery that is Sirius Black?” James asked, smile flickering. As Remus explained what had happened, he nodded encouragingly and tried to translate some of the hurt and insecurity he knew Sirius was harboring.

“Okay,” James squeezed his shoulders. “I think you know what to do. Go get him, tiger.”

“Thanks, Prongs,” Remus impulsively pulled him into a brief hug, before setting off to find Sirius.

He checked several of his known sulking spots, eventually finding him tucked up on a window sill overlooking the lake.

“Hey,” he rocked on his feet, hands tucked into his pockets. Sirius glanced over at him and stubbed out his cigarette.

“Hi.”

Remus clambered onto the ledge, arranging himself cross-legged in a mirror image of Sirius.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say something sooner,” he said. “You’re one of the people I care most about in this world. And I don’t like upsetting you.” He rubbed his temple. “Of course, I wound up doing that regardless. I’m sorry.”

Sirius exhaled heavily. “I’m sorry, too,” he murmured. “I want—I want you to be able to tell me things. I don’t want you to feel like you have to lock things away.”

Remus’s chest clenched, feeling the weight of every secret he was keeping, big and small. “I want that too,” he whispered guiltily.

Notes:

Wheeee! Another chapter! Next time should be our last one at Hogwarts. I can hardly believe it!

Thank you for the kind comments Aggiesaurus, Vale_fer99, Aleique, and frogtopia_waow4.

I did indeed come out (as non-binary) and it went well! I was surprised by how many people I haven't spoken to in years, that took the time to express their support.

As always, drop some love in the comments if you're enjoying this fic! I write for y'all, and I love hearing from you.

xo Ace

Chapter 25

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

With only a few days left until their N.E.W.T.s, everyone was studying furiously. They’d set up camp in the boys’ dormitory to get away from the rest of the student body. Lily was muttering quietly to herself, flipping through notecards that she absently passed to Dorcas when she was done. Sirius and James had spread out on the floor, comparing Potions notes, brows furrowed in concentration. Marlene and Peter quizzed each other on Herbology, listing characteristics of each unusual plant or fungus. Hermione found herself reading the same line over-and-over, mind elsewhere. She glanced over to Remus.

He sat with Sirius and James, under the guise of “helping” them revise, but instead seemed to be doing his best to distract Sirius. He’d undone the top few buttons of his school shirt and was currently sucking on a liquorice wand. As his cheeks hollowed, Sirius looked up at him incredulously.

“My god, Moons,” he choked. “Is that strictly necessary?”

Remus slipped the candy from the mouth, smirking. “Maybe.”

Sirius shook his head, a light flush spreading to his cheeks.

“I’m trying to study,” he hissed. “Isn’t that what you’ve been trying to accomplish the past seven years?”

Remus shrugged playfully, “I’ve acquired a new hobby since then.”

Sirius groaned and pressed his hands to his face.

“Remus,” Hermione bit her lip, stifling a giggle. “Fancy a break? I was thinking about taking a walk.”

“Oh thank Merlin,” Sirius sighed, slumping against James. “Get him out of my sight, Longbottom!”

She saluted him and pulled Remus to his feet. “Let’s go, trouble. You’ve had your boyfriend bothering privileges revoked.”

He pouted, but allowed himself to be drawn from the room easily enough.

They heard their friends call after them “Bring back snacks!” and “Brain fuel me, baby!”

Giggling, they thumped down the stairs and climbed out of the portrait hole.

“So, I take it you finished the transformation the other night? When it stormed?” Remus asked.

“Yes! Finally,” Hermione heaved a sigh. “I was worried it was never going to happen.”

“And?” Remus’s eyes danced with mischief. “Are you indeed a very cute aquatic mammal?”

“No!” Hermione beamed, bouncing on her toes as she turned towards him. “I mean, thank god! Can you imagine?” She giggled. “Why don’t I show you later? It’ll be more fun.”

“Alright,” he grinned and they continued to the seventh floor.

“We’re finally doing this, huh?” Remus asked wryly, as they stopped in front of the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy.

“Oh you know...Our last week. I figured it was time.” Her eyes twinkled.

Remus laughed, bumping into her. “Yeah, I think it might be. Do you want to do the honors?”

Inclining her head, Hermione walked past three times, pushing all thoughts except for 'I need the place where things are hidden' out of her mind. A door materialized, and they entered the Room of Hidden Things.

“Wow,” Remus breathed, gingerly stepping further in. Broken furniture had been piled into leaning towers. Thousands upon thousands of books lined bookshelves and formed precarious stacks around the room.

“I take it we shouldn’t touch anything,” he shivered, eying a handful of corked bottles whose contents shimmered maliciously.

“Probably for the best,” she agreed as her gaze caught on an enormous stuffed troll.

“What on earth?” he muttered, stopping in front of a cage with a five-legged skeleton locked inside. “No, never mind. I don’t want to know.”

“Remus,” Hermione called and he shuffled towards her. She stood in front of a pile of junk; on top sat a tiara. Remus leaned in and read aloud the words that had been engraved so many centuries ago, “Wit beyond measure is man’s greatest treasure.”

“I hate to do it,” she murmured. “To destroy something of such historical significance.”

“I understand,” he squeezed her hand. “But it’s already been lost for so long.”

She smiled sadly. “It was stolen by her daughter, you know? Helena and her mother had a difficult relationship. She was insecure, being Rowena’s daughter, and thought that if she just had the diadem—”

“That she’d be the smart one. The worthy one,” Remus continued softly. “And instead, she was murdered. She and her mother never reconciled.”

“Fuck,” Hermione choked, half-laughing. “Maybe it’s always been warped. Even before Voldemort found it.”

“I think there’s a very good case for that.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, “Are you patronising me, Remus Lupin?”

His lips twitched. “All I want is to avoid an all-out existential crisis while also getting this done today.”

“You’re so... practical,” she complained, producing a vial of basilisk venom. He shrugged.

Carefully, he lifted the book it rested on and deposited the tiara gently onto the stone floor. Hermione crouched down and tipped the vial. The diadem hissed, pain and suffering streaming out of it in a suffocating cloud. When their minds cleared of the fog that had overwhelmed them, the artefact was unrecognizable: charred and twisted.

“Christ,” Remus laughed as they backed away. “Well, that’s one down.”

“Good proof of concept,” she agreed. “Destroying the Horcruxes will be a lot easier than it was with Harry, now that we have the basilisk venom all ready to go.”

As they neared the door, she stopped short. “Still want to see my Animagus form?”

“Please,” he turned to look at her expectantly.

“Okay,” she took a deep breath and settled her mind. She morphed rapidly, brown eyes becoming amber, face elongating into a heavy-jawed snout. Brown skin turned to tawny fur, and she settled onto four large paws. She prowled towards and around him, muscles visibly bunching under her thick skin.

“Holy shit,” he breathed as she transformed back.

“Not too shabby, right?”

“Hermione... you’re bloody gorgeous. Scary as hell, but gorgeous.”

She beamed. “Won’t exactly blend in well in most circumstances, but at least I’ll be able to help out during full moons.”

As they made their way to the kitchens, Remus shook his head. “I should’ve guessed it. A lioness.”

She snorted. “It’s super clichéd, but it still feels right.”

He smiled softly at her. “A Gryffindor through and through.”

 

 

“Stop fiddling,” Sirius chided, straightening his robes for him. “You look great, Moons.”

Remus hummed, lacing their fingers together so that he couldn’t continue to fidget. They walked to the Black Lake with their friends, excitement and nerves in the air. James was sneaking glances at a small stack of notecards, muttering to himself beside Peter who patted him encouragingly. Lily had linked arms with Hermione and Marlene, face lit with joy, while Dorcas and Mary took up the rear.

Golden chairs had been set out in rows by the lake, filled with the families of the seventh year students. At the front, the staff had erected a small stage for the graduating class to walk across.

Hermione’s breath caught as she was transported back to Dumbeldore’s funeral. She remembered the same golden chairs set in this very spot, but facing a marble table. She shook her head, grounding herself in the feeling of her two friends’ arms and the chatter around her.

Hermione found herself next to Remus, as they lined up alphabetically by last name. Professor McGonagall called them one-by-one to the front, the line moving haltingly forward. As they stepped onto the stage, Remus glanced out at the sea of people. His heart felt full upon finding the familiar faces of Euphemia and Fleamont sitting beside Lily’s parents. He blinked, startled to find his own father nearby. Lyall watched the proceedings intently.

Remus felt his gut churn nervously and continued to scan the crowd, skin itching. His heart frosted over in alarm as his gaze caught on them. They had assumed the shape of a woman with ebony skin, but those same glittering eyes. They were staring straight at him, lips curling in a facsimile of a smile. He glanced over at Hermione in terror, and she nodded imperceptibly; she’d seen them, too. He wondered if this was the form they'd chosen when taking Hermione to the Longbottoms three years prior. When his gaze darted back out, they were already gone. Just an empty seat. He barely registered Hermione’s name being called, and then his.

He found his seat at the front dazedly, leaning against Hermione. By the time his head had cleared, Lily and James had stepped up to the podium, obligated as they were to deliver a speech as Head Girl and Boy.

James’s speech leaned a little sappier than Lily’s, but they both contained a message of hope and a call to action. That together, the next generations of witches and wizards might rise up against prejudice and hatred and build a better world. Remus blinked back tears, love blooming in his chest for his friends. He hoped to god it was enough; that they might live to do more with their lives than die barely into adulthood.

Once the ceremony had completed, the students scattered to their families. Lily grabbed Hermione, insisting that she meet her parents.

Remus braced himself and cut through the crowd, looking for Lyall. His father stood stiffly with Professor McGonagall, nodding as she spoke. As she turned to leave, Remus sidled over with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Hi, dad,” he said, smiling awkwardly. “Thanks for coming.”

Lyall fixed a stern look upon him. “The school sent an invitation.”

“Sorry for—” Remus trailed off. “I’m sorry I haven’t written.”

Lyall’s posture softened. “It’s okay. It’s... good to see you, son.”

“Yeah,” Remus felt some of his tension leak away.

“Your mam would be... so proud. I hope you know that.”

“Thank you,” Remus murmured. He started as an arm slid around his waist.

“Mr. Lupin!” Sirius stuck out his other hand. “Good to see you again, sir.”

“Sirius,” Lyall said gruffly. “You’ve grown since I last saw you. Both of you.”

Sirius nudged his hip into Remus. “Mind if I steal Remus for a few minutes? James and my folks want to say hi.”

“Go on,” Lyall jerked his head. “I should be going.” He stuck out his hand. “Congratulations, Remus. I hope you’ll come visit when you can. Your friends are always welcome as well.” He nodded at Sirius.

“Thanks, Dad,” Remus felt his chest tighten. “I’ll... try and do that. I’d like that.”

“Okay?” Sirius whispered lowly as Lyall walked away, Remus took a deep breath and relaxed, turning into Sirius’s arms.

“Better now,” Remus murmured, wrapping his arms around him.

Later that day, as the graduating class floated off across the lake together in the boats that had first brought them to Hogwarts, Remus leaned against Sirius contentedly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione in the boat next to them, skimming her hand in the water.

“Whatcha thinking about?” Sirius whispered, running a hand across his back. Remus smiled, warmth pooling in his belly.

“Just how lucky I am. To have you. You specifically, and you as in all of you.”

Sirius chuckled, his hold tightening. “Sap.”

“Don’t even. You love it.” Remus knocked their knees together.

Sirius paused before whispering. “I do.”

“Oi!” James complained from behind them. “Lily, how come they get to be all romantic? What about me? What about us?”

“In your wildest dreams, Potter.” She laughed, but placated him with a kiss. He pushed his glasses back into place, grinning from ear to ear.

“My lady hath granted me a kiss!” he proclaimed loudly, eliciting jeers of “Shut it, Prongs” and “Gross!”

Notes:

Annnnd onto the real world! I can't believe we've already made it through three years in this story.

I'll be taking a very short break to flesh out the rest of it and outline future chapters. But I'll be back soon!

Thank you to voidwxffles and MelhekhelMurkun for commenting. 💕

If you're enjoying, please leave a comment below! I've actually made some adjustments to the story based on things y'all have said.

xo Ace

Chapter 26

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Life seemed to have spiraled out of control the moment they left Hogwarts. Attacks on Muggles, Muggle-borns, and so-called blood traitors were on the rise. Dumbledore had approached many of them after graduation, imploring them to join the Order of the Phoenix.

They attended their first real meeting that night, stuffed into the Bones’s drawing room. Lily’s face was still tired and drawn, her grief plainly written across it. Her parents had died in a car crash only a few days after they had sat with the Potters at her graduation ceremony.

Beside her, James was a steadfast presence; she leaned into his side gratefully as the meeting finally wrapped up.

Dorcas nudged Hermione, murmuring as the room split, “Mary wrote that she made it abroad okay.” Hermione sighed in relief.

“Good... That’s good,” Hermione eyed flicked around the room nervously. Dumbledore had drawn Remus away, quietly disappearing into another room. “She’ll be safer in America.”

Dorcas shivered and nodded in agreement. “I’m glad she was offered a job that far away. I don’t know if she would have left otherwise.”

Hermione nodded distractedly, watching Frank make his way across the room.

“Hermione,” he smiled. “Hey Dorcas! Would you mind if I stole my sister for a bit?”

“Go ahead,” Dorcas shrugged good-naturedly. “I’m going to go find Marls. She owes me a drink.” Dorcas pressed a gentle squeeze to Hermione’s shoulder and made her way towards Marlene. Hermione tore her eyes away from the room and tried to focus on Frank.

“How are you?” He asked, peering at her. “I heard you were one of the fresh recruits.”

She chuckled. “Yeah, they're running a little boot camp for us right now. Additional defense stuff; some real combat practice. It’s been interesting.”

“Now you know what my life’s been like,” he grinned. “Mad-Eye is a real bastard. Guess that’s why he has such a big hand in Auror training.”

She laughed. “Yeah, I can only imagine. It must be ten times worse.”

“You can ask James and Sirius soon enough.” He nodded at them across the room. “Can’t imagine being in my first year of training and joining the Order at the same time. It’s got to be brutal.”

“I’m sure I’ll be kept abreast of the situation.” She said wryly, anticipating their grousing. Her eyes flicked towards the closed door again. Remus hadn’t returned yet, and it was beginning to make her skin itch.

“Listen,” Frank began, scratching behind his ear awkwardly. “I want to apologize. I know things must have been really awkward and... difficult for you the past few years with our family. I was hoping that I might be able to—not make it up to you exactly because I don’t think I could, but—”

Hermione blinked, startled by his apology. “What—?”

“Can I take you to lunch? Maybe next week? I’d really like to get to know you.”

“Um... sure,” she cocked her head at him. “If you’re certain?”

“I am,” he said firmly. “You’re family.”

She flushed and looked away, just in time to see Remus slip through the doorway. He returned with a fierce set to his jaw, seeming to vibrate with anger. Dumbledore must have asked him about infiltrating werewolf packs, like he’d told her had happened in the first war. Not only had it been dehumanizing, but it’d also been a waste. Remus had been adamant that he would not be reduced to his lycanthropy again.

“I’ll owl you,” Frank said. She nodded, glancing back at him. She hadn’t expected this olive branch from Frank, but it sounded nice; the idea of being his sister.

 

 

Hermione wiped sweat from her brow, muscles bunching in anticipation as she and Remus faced off from across the room. The basement had come in very handy indeed, for both full moons and their continued training.

Remus furrowed his brow, fingers twitching reflexively as he glared at Hermione. It felt wrong; dueling without wands. He grit his teeth and refused to let himself mouth the words. ‘ Locomotor mortis ,’ he thought fiercely, directing the spell at Hermione.

Hermione’s eyes widened and she ducked to the side, the spell smashing into the wall where she’d just been standing.

“Fucking hell,” Remus swore. “Am I ever going to actually land a hit?”

Hermione shook her head, coming to join him. “You literally did, twenty minutes ago. Besides, we knew it’d be tough. To cast without wands or words, it’s some of the hardest magic there is.”

Remus grumbled and took a swig of water.

“You’ve got to head out soon, right?” He asked.

“Yeah, another lunch date with Frank,” she checked the time. “Should probably head up and shower at least.”

He hummed and they trudged up the stairs to their flat. “How is he, then? I never got to know him very well in school or after.”

She shrugged, peeling off her clothes as Remus turned to put on the kettle. “He’s... nice. I don’t know. You know he and Alice got married last year; he talks about her a lot.”

Leaving the bathroom door open, she stepped into the tub for a shower, drawing the curtains, and raised her voice so that it might carry.

“He asks about you so much, I had to tell him there was someone else.”

He laughed from the kitchen, calling back, “How’d that go?”

“Good!” she paused. “Well, except for the fact that now he wants to meet her.”

“That seems possible! Billie would charm the pants off him.”

Hermione paused in the middle of lathering up, stomach tightening uncomfortably. “Remus, I—”

“What?” His voice was noticeably closer and comfortingly low, as he stepped into the bathroom and sat on the closed lid of the toilet. “Hermione?”

Her fingers clenched and unclenched around the loofa.

“I think I have to end it,” she murmured, squeezing her eyes shut. He was quiet for a long moment.

“Are you sure?”

“I just—it’s not safe for her. Continuing to be with me could put a target on her back. It would put a target on her back. I can’t—”

She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself as she stood under the spray. “It’ll be better this way. Break up with her now, before things get any worse. Before I get her killed.”

“Oh Hermione,” Remus murmured. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, Remus. Really,” she tried to brighten her voice, turning off the water. If she slowed down, if she let herself linger in the thought of losing Billie, well. She just couldn’t. It was better to keep moving and bury her heartache. She stuck her hand out of the curtain. “Hand me my towel?”

 

 

They’d all crammed into James and Lily’s flat, stacked like double-deckers on the sofa or making do on the carpeted floor. Sirius had deposited himself in Remus’s lap, pulling his arms around him with the sort of familiarity that made Remus’s heart tug in pleasure.

Marlene cocked her head at James as he brought out a bottle of champagne. “James,” she spoke slowly. “I know I just got hired on for real, but I didn’t think—”

“Sorry, Marls,” Lily laughed, popping up behind him with a corkscrew. “We actually have some news of our own!”

“Yeah, sorry for being so mysterious,” James grinned. “We just wanted to surprise you all at the same time.”

“You’re pregnant,” Sirius gasped.

“No, Sirius. I’m not—” Lily started.

“James, did you finally get that new broomstick?” Remus asked, just to be a dick. He felt Sirius’s belly shaking with soft laughter under his fingers. He smiled into Sirius’s T-shirt.

“WE’RE ENGAGED!” James burst out, beaming like an idiot.

They all fell upon him and Lily with overjoyed hugs and cheers of congratulations. Dorcas brought out the glasses, her eyes bright with a quiet happiness.

“So, it finally happened,” Hermione joked as they settled back down with their flutes of champagne. “He really did it.”

Lily scoffed, “He did not. I’ll have you know that I proposed to him!”

James rolled his eyes, still smiling. “A technicality. We’d talked about it before, but she beat me to the actual proposing bit.”

He kicked Sirius. “Someone wasn’t able to take me ring-shopping in time!”

Sirius ducked his head, eyes crinkling. “Well, I might have been paid off.”

James gasped, “Traitor!” 

He turned to Lily, “And you! That’s so... devious!” His voice lowered, taking on a gravely quality. “I like it.”

She smirked and pulled him in for a kiss. “Save it for later, Potter.”

Peter audibly gagged, eliciting giggles from everyone else. James leaned over, swatting him good-naturedly. “Shut it, Wormtail!”

“So how did you propose, Lils?” Dorcas asked eagerly, smiling over her champagne flute. “I want to know everything.”

Lily flushed and reached for James, weaving their fingers together and tugging him back to her side. “Well, first we went to dinner.”

“But she had me choose the place,” James cut in. “Throw the scent off, y’know?”

“Exactly.” Lily’s lips twitched in amusement. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“It definitely was,” James laughed. “She suggested walking home, and as we neared the flat

“I had arranged for some buskers to perform at the park across the street. When they saw us, they started playing “Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You” and we danced

“And suddenly Lily had pulled out a ring and was asking me to marry her,” James said dreamily, eyes flitting down to the ring on his finger: a silver band etched with an intricate pattern of flowering vines.

“James insisted on giving me a ring as well,” Lily nodded towards her delicate emerald setting. “So we picked this one out together.”

“That’s sweet,” Dorcas sighed. “I’m so happy for you both.”

“Thanks, Dee,” Lily smiled. She glanced at James fondly. “I know it hasn’t really been that long. But we just figured—life is short, and we love each other. What’s the use in waiting?”

“Hear, hear!” Sirius raised his glass. “To Prongs and Lily!”

“To James and Lily!”

Notes:

Okay! So the rest of the fic is outlined (went a lot quicker than I anticipated). Assuming I stick to the plan, there'll be 42 chapters in total. I've also been going back and editing to make sure the grammar and everything else is consistent throughout the fic. And I *still* had time to whip out this new chapter! All in one week. 😌

Let me know what you think! Our babes are entering a whole new stage of their lives. As always, your comments keep me going. If you'd like a specific prompt, I'd love to hear what you think their bachelor(ette) parties will be like. 😉

Have a lovely weekend.
xo Ace

Chapter 27

Notes:

TW for very brief mention of homophobia (off-screen).

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Remus was still packing his bag when the girls descended on their flat, sorting through the piles of dubiously clean clothes. Frowning, he considered whether or not to change. Sirius had been mysterious, to say the least, when he instructed the Marauders to meet that afternoon and to bring an overnight bag.

Sighing, he slung his backpack on and stepped out into the common area. Hermione and Marlene had decorated the flat with floating lanterns for class and a home-made party garland for humor. Marlene had painstakingly cut out silhouettes of scantily-clad men and strung them up between paper hearts. He shook his head, squinting at the changes to their living room.

Hermione bumped him with her hip, hands full with two bottles of wine.

“Get out of here, you! No boys allowed,” Hermione chided, nodding at their friends. “Isn’t that right, ladies?”

“Yeah, scram!” Lily smirked. “Sirius will have a fit if you lot aren’t on time for James’s stag do.”

Remus groaned and scrubbed his face. Sirius had been preoccupied with his role as best man from the start. Thankfully, James and Lily’s engagement had been kept short; only a few months long.

“Okay, okay—I’m going. If I’m not back by noon tomorrow, something’s gone terribly wrong and you know who’s responsible.”

Dorcas chuckled, pushing him out the door. “London had better still be standing!”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” he muttered.

The door swung shut and Marlene clapped her hands. “Cheers! Drinks first; if Lily isn’t mildly intoxicated this entire night, I’m not doing my job right.”

“Marls!” Lily exclaimed, laughing. “We don’t need to be smashed to have a good time.”

“Sure, but it certainly doesn’t hurt,” Hermione opened the first bottle of wine with a wink.

Several hours later, and Lily was convinced she’d never had a better night. She’d been skeptical of the drinking game Hermione suggested, but it turned out to be an absolute riot.

“13”

“14”

Dorcas took a drink on 15.

“16”

“Merlin’s balls!”

“18”

“19”

Marlene ruffled her hair in imitation of James, winking at Lily. She dissolved into giggles.

“CHEERS TO THE GOVERNOR!” They all drank.

“I don’t think—” Lily hiccuped. “I can—take anymore.”

Marlene laughed, tugging Lily over to lean against her. “Okay, Lils. Ready to go out, then?”

Lily pulled back, mouth agape with incredulity.

“Marls,” she hissed. “You think—you think I’m capable of leaving the flat? I’m not even sure I can make it to the loo without falling over!”

Hermione snorted and buried her head in her hands. “Thank god it’s not just me!”

“Oh, sweet, sweet Hermione,” Lily giggled. “It’s you and me, baby!”

Marlene rolled her eyes, smiling as she muttered. “Merlin help me, you two.”

“Don’t even start!” Hermione smacked her ineffectively with a throw pillow. “We’re adorable, and you love us.”

“Yeah, Marlene!” Lily stuck out her tongue. “A-dor-able.”

“Yes, yes.” Marlene got up to get them both glasses of water. “You’re both very cute. And I love you to bits.” She reappeared, pushing glasses from the tap into their hands. "But you're still both turnip heads."

As Lily and Hermione chugged, Marlene looked at them fondly, shaking her head. “My wee disasters.”

“Hey—” Hermione fumbled with her empty glass. “I resent that.”

“It’s okay, I find it a very attractive quality.” Marlene winked at her. Hermione blinked slowly.

“Okay, I know I’m a bit plastered—” Hermione started and stopped. “But—”

“Marlene, are you gay?” Lily blurted out, immediately clapping a hand over her mouth as if to keep other inappropriate questions at bay.

“Lily!” Hermione hissed. “We can’t—we shouldn’t!”

“Marlene, I am so sorry,” Lily reached for her hand. “You definitely don’t have to—”

Marlene started laughing. Even Dorcas was hiding a smile with her glass of wine.

“I’m bisexual.” She squeezed Lily’s hand. “Don’t sweat it, love. I've been meaning to come out to the rest of you for ages.”

“Well, this is a relief,” Dorcas grinned. “It’s been a game of ‘will she or won’t she?” for the past year.”

“You’re a real doll, Dee. You know that?” Marlene beamed at her.

“The past year?” Hermione blinked. Marlene blushed and glanced away.

“Yeah,” she bit her lip. “When you and Remus came out last autumn—I had to really sit with it. Dee helped. A lot.”

Marlene plucked at the cuff of her jeans. “Ack! It’s silly. I knew you all would be supportive. But I still couldn’t seem to muster the courage to come out.”

“Hey,” Hermione murmured. “Coming out is fucking hard. Thank you for trusting us with this.” She paused, grimacing. “Even if we were sort of assholes.”

“Yeah, we love you to pieces, Marls.” Lily affirmed. “And we appreciate you putting up with us.”

Marlene laughed. “It’s okay. I love you nutters. C’mere.” They piled onto Marlene, taking Dorcas with them.

 

 

Remus stretched out on the beach, luxuriating in the feeling of sand under his toes and the breeze in his hair. James sat down heavily beside him, shaking his damp hair like Padfoot might. Remus passed him the bottle of firewhisky wordlessly.

“Ta, mate,” James took a swig. He sighed, leaning back on his elbows. “He really outdid himself, ey?”

Remus smiled to himself. This was nothing like the stag do Remus remembered from all those years ago; when Sirius had indeed taken them on a gut-churning, raunchy tour of London’s nightlife. This was so much better. Just the four of them in a cottage by the sea.

“Yeah,” Remus knocked their shoulders together. “It’s perfect.”

They watched Padfoot splash about in the ocean, the large shaggy dog’s tongue lolling out happily. Peter threw sticks down the shoreline for him to chase.

“He’ll kill me for saying anything, but—” James scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably.

“What is it, Prongs?” Remus frowned.

“Well,” James spoke slowly. “It’s just that he’s been getting some shit from the Auror he’s shadowing.”

“Right, Sutherland. Pads said he was a right tit.” Remus took another sip.

“Yeah, he is. But he’s sort of gotten worse since he found out you were together.”

“So, he’s a homophobic tit,” Remus wrinkled his nose in distaste, stomach starting to turn on Sirius’s behalf.

“Yeah,” James grimaced. “Sirius talks about you all the time, of course. And Sutherland made a crack about you being his boyfriend, and he was like, ‘Yeah, and?’”

“Anyways,” James took another swig of firewhisky. “It wouldn’t be so bad if Pads wasn’t working directly under him right now. It’s shit. I’m trying to get him to let me talk to the higher-ups about it. But you know how he is...”

Remus squeezed his shoulder. “Thanks, mate. I’ll talk to him, too. Might help.”

“Yeah,” James exhaled with relief. “That makes me feel better. Thanks, Moony.”

“You betcha.” Remus nudged him. “So, everything in order? How terrified are you?”

James barked a laugh, “Remus, if I have to talk to one more caterer or florist, I’m going to lose my goddamn mind. But marrying Lily? I’m not scared at all. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He slung his arm around Remus’s shoulders. “That’s not counting you guys, of course. You’re all tied for first place in my heart.”

“Prongs,” Remus snorted. “If you get any sappier, you may as well grow roots and become a maple tree.”

“Tosser,” James muttered, reaching for the firewhisky. “Give me that.”

Remus was still laughing when Sirius bounded over, in his human form this time, Peter trailing behind him. He was still soaking wet from the surf as he reached for Remus’s hands.

“Up!” Sirius commanded, tugging. “I require Moony ocean cuddles. They’re my favourite.”

“You only discovered them an hour ago,” Remus remarked dryly as he stood up and stripped off his T-shirt.

“All the more reason to get as many as I can now,” Sirius purred as he slid an arm around Remus’s waist. They waded into the water together, the sea beckoning with its gentle pull. Sirius turned towards him and Remus felt his breath catch at the sight of him.

He’d pushed his long hair back, where it dripped down his shoulders and bared the exquisite lines of his face. Remus wanted to kiss all the way down that gorgeous throat to his freshly-inked chest. The phases of the moon stood out against his pale skin, and right in the centre was the full moon, surrounded by runes of protection and comfort. 

The tattoo made Remus’s stomach wrap itself into complicated knots. He hated the reminder, yet couldn’t help but feel touched that Sirius would embrace this aspect of him and etch it onto his own skin.

He started as he realized Sirius had said something, glancing back up to meet his eyes. “What?”

“I said,” Sirius smirked. “Cat got your tongue, Moons?”

“More like a great big dog,” Remus gave him another once over, allowing his fingers to trace along with his gaze. Sirius’s skin shivered and his breath hitched.

“Gods, you’re so fucking gorgeous, Pads,” he murmured, hands slipping behind him as he pressed their bodies together and nipped at his neck. “It’s utterly unfair, you know. The things you do to me.”

Sirius groaned, his fingers curling into Remus’s hair as he brought their mouths together.

“Oi!” they heard James shout from the beach. “No getting too frisky! We’re right here y’know!”

Sirius drew away reluctantly, lips parted. Remus felt his heart soar, begging to stay in this moment forever. He turned his head towards their friends even as his arms tightened around Sirius’s waist.

“Turn around!” he bellowed.

“What?” James squawked indignantly. Peter looked vaguely horrified. 

“You heard me!” Remus shouted, a grin splitting his face. “You don’t have to watch if you don’t want to! Turn around.”

Sirius doubled in laughter, his head falling against Remus’s bare chest. They might not have forever, but they did have today, and Remus wanted to make it count.

Notes:

Oh man. This chapter was supposed to cover both the bachelor(ette) parties and the wedding, but it kind of got away from me. I'll be back with another update soon!

In the meantime, hope you enjoyed this bit of fluff. 💕

xo Ace

Chapter 28

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Remus leaned back in his chair and looked around the room, contentment draped over him like a heavy blanket. Hermione stood with Frank and Alice. Her shoulders were loose as she spoke with them, gesturing with the hand that wasn’t holding a drink. Frank grinned and tugged his wife closer to him.

Sirius had pulled a chair close to his own during the party. He nudged their knees together, shooting Remus a sideways glance.

“I’m glad they turned things around,” he murmured.

“Yeah,” Remus hooked their fingers together, resting them on his knee. “It was good of Frank to reach out.”

Sirius hummed and squeezed Remus’s hand. Both of their gazes were caught by James and Lily on the dance floor. James smiled like a loon as he led her in a box step with surprising competence. His perfectly coiffed hair had been ruined almost immediately, boisterous curls breaking free. Lily reached a hand up to tangle her fingers in his hair, arresting their feet. Standing in the middle of the dance floor as if the world stood still just for them, Lily rolled forward onto her toes to bring their lips together. Remus glanced away, feeling as if he was intruding.

His eyes turned to Sirius and his heart leapt to find Sirius’s fond gaze already fixed on him. Sirius reached over with his other hand to tug Remus towards him. Their lips slid together slowly and Remus’s eyes fluttered shut. He’d never grow tired of these kisses, so soft and sweet. Sirius parted their mouths just enough to murmur, “Think that could be us someday?”

Remus felt his heart begin to race, and not from excitement. Dread coiled in the pit of his stomach and rose up to his brain in a suffocating haze.

“I—” he nearly choked, drawing further back. He needed to calm down, to play it cool. “Ah, I’m not really the marrying kind.” He wrinkled his nose. “Sort of an outdated institution, don’t you think?”

Remus felt Sirius tense, gritting out, “Yeah... totally.”

“I think I’m going to go snag Hermione for a dance,” Remus said brightly as he uncurled their fingers. “Catch you later?”

“Yeah,” Sirius looked away, his brow furrowed as he continued coolly, “later.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Hermione broke away from Frank and Alice as she noticed him making a beeline for her.

“Hey,” she murmured, squeezing his arm as he led her onto the dance floor. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah!” he chirped, even as the room seemed to spin around them. “Great!”

“Okay,” she said quietly as he placed a hand across her back. “So, do you want to tell me why Sirius is glaring daggers at me right now?”

He cursed under his breath.

“That’s what I thought,” she frowned at him. “Let’s start again. What happened, love?”

As he explained, Hermione kept them moving, leading him through the steps.

“Okay, to recap,” she grimaced. “Sirius is head over heels for you, as you should have realized by now.” She ignored his choked protest. “You said something stupid, and now you’re both upset.”

“Hermione, I won’t be around forever,” he said softly, his mind starting to clear. “To tell you the honest to god, despicable truth—”

He winced as his mind filled in the rest.

“Remus,” she said warningly.

“Fine,” he growled. “I honestly thought he’d have grown tired of dating me by now. He’s never had a relationship that lasted this long. Ever. Worst case scenario, I thought he’d at least see this as a casual thing. No strings attached, just two friends who have sex sometimes. I never thought—”

“Oh babe,” she murmured, leaning her head against his chest. “You’re so smart, and yet such an idiot when it comes to—well.”

“Shut up,” he snorted, his cheeks pink with embarrassment.

“Look,” she took a deep breath and tilted her chin up to glare at him. His throat bobbed, insides still tangled. “You’ve loved him for decades. Don’t even try and deny it. Yeah, we’re probably not going to make it out of this war alive. You and I don’t get a happily-ever-after. But you can still make the most of the time you have with him. Let him know that you care.”

He blinked slowly, tears pricking his eyes. Before he could respond, they were interrupted by James’s parents.

“Think I could cut in?” Fleamont’s eyes twinkled as he offered the crook of his arm to Hermione.

“Of course.” 

Remus dropped his arms from Hermione and offered Euphemia a hand. She smiled at him patiently, stepping closer. They danced quietly, and he got the feeling Euphemia knew that a moment of respite was exactly what he needed. As she hummed along with the music, he focused on calming his racing pulse.

“Thank you, Remus,” she murmured as the song concluded, squeezing his arm. “You’re such a lovely dancer. Sirius is very lucky indeed.”

Remus flushed, lips curving into a soft smile. “Thank you, Effie.”

“Now then,” she whispered conspiratorially. “Point me in the direction of some of your handsome friends. I want to dance more, and Fleamont just can’t keep up.” He barked a laugh and looked around the room. Dorcas and Marlene had stolen Lily away, swaying together on the sidelines. Hermione had snagged James; they seemed to be delighting in dancing as poorly as possible.

“Oh,” his gaze caught on Gideon and Fabian. Most of the Order was there that night. “Let me introduce you to Gid. He looked quite smooth when he was dancing with Dee earlier.”

“Lead the way,” she inclined her head.

Having made the introductions, Remus slipped off to the bar for a drink. He started when he noticed Emmeline Vance leaning against the wall, tucked off to the side. She’d been a few years ahead of them in school and, while she was in the Order, they hadn’t ever had much of a chance or reason to talk.

His eyes flitted over to her while he waited for his drink. She was dressed in a vibrant floral suit over a delicate white blouse. A soft fringe framed her face and honey blonde hair tumbled down her back.

Drink in hand, he wondered whether he should say something, but Emmeline beat him to it.

“Wotcher, Lupin,” she smirked at him.

“Emmeline,” he nodded at her, shuffling closer. “How’s it going?”

“Not so bad. This is a cracking reception, isn’t it?”

He hummed in agreement and took a sip.

“So, what’s the deal with the Longbottom girl?” She asked casually. His mouth twisted in confusion.

“Is she seeing anyone?” Emmeline continued.

“Oh,” he blinked. “No, she’s not. She just got out of a relationship.” Pieces sliding into place in his mind, he continued pointedly, “Her ex-girlfriend and her split a few months back.”

“Oh,” Emmeline took a sip slowly. “That’s too bad.”

“So, you’re?” he fished, curiosity getting the better of him.

“Very, very gay,” she smiled playfully, pulling a huff of laughter from him. “I’m guessing you and Black are more than just good friends?”

“Yeah, you could say that.”

Remus set down his glass as he noticed Lily hurrying towards them. She flashed a harried smile at Emmeline and whispered to Remus, “Minor crisis. Vernon and Sirius found each other. I think one of them is about to draw blood. Peter's trying his best to intercede, but...”

He gave a short nod, drawing his shoulders back as if preparing for battle. “I’m on it.”

Vernon was red as a tomato, his face lit with anger, when Remus arrived on the scene. 

“It’s a disgrace, it is! Men aren’t supposed to let their hair get that long. You look like a bloody hippy! Or a woman !”

“Jealous, Dursley? That sorry excuse you call a mustache looks like something crawled across your ugly mug and died there.”

Ten minutes later, he’d smoothed things over to the best of his ability and most importantly, pulled Sirius away from the Dursleys. Peter had nodded at him gratefully, slipping away with relief. 

“Can we talk for a sec?” Remus murmured, guiding Sirius towards the photo booth that James and Lily had rented for the wedding. Sirius squirmed as they folded themselves into the small space. Remus drew the curtains behind them and turned to Sirius. He swallowed nervously.

“What’s going on?” Sirius asked quietly.

“I just wanted to say,” he said slowly. “Because I don’t say it nearly enough, that you’re wonderful. I’ve never known anyone as loyal, incandescent, or resilient as you. Every day that you still want to be with me, I’m in disbelief.”

Sirius scoffed, but he leaned further into Remus, “Moons, I’m the lucky one.” He paused, brows furrowed, and continued softly, “I just want you to be able to see yourself the way I do.”

Remus flushed and glanced away, his heart fluttering with affection. He worried his bottom lip and looked back towards Siirus, the edge of his mouth curling up. “We’re already in here—should we take some pictures?”

“Only if we agree to be disgustingly cute,” Sirius grinned, dragging Remus’s head down for a kiss. Remus smiled against his lips and reached a fumbling hand for the button that would snap a photo.

Notes:

Aaaand that's actually it for 1978. We'll be picking back up in 1979 next time.

Would love to hear from y'all! Who's still following along? 🥰

xo Ace

Chapter 29

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Hermione glanced over at Emmeline nervously as they strolled through the park. Winter had melted into a tender spring, and new life was bursting from the earth with determination. It had been hard to find the time between assignments and work, but they were finally on their third date.

She found Emmeline bewitching with her playful smile and wildly fanciful style. The closest person Hermione could compare her to was Luna, but Emmeline’s quirkiness seemed to primarily manifest in aesthetics, not world beliefs. From what Hermione could tell, Emmeline dressed as if each day was a production. She’d arrived at the restaurant in a pretty pinafore dress over a marigold blouse, topped off with a mossy beret. She was enchanting.

Which was exactly why Hermione found herself feeling more and more conflicted. By all rights, she should be tongue-tied and breathless in admiration. And she was! To a degree. But it just didn’t feel like it did with Billie. 

Hermione drew herself back into the moment, rubbing her arms to build a little friction. Emmeline peered over at her and cocked her head coyly.

“Are you cold?” She asked. “Do you want to come back to my place?”

“Oh!” Hermione started. “Yeah, okay.”

“Are you sure?” Emmeline’s eyes crinkled kindly. “It’s okay if you want to call it now. You’ve had a long week.”

“No,” she smiled, trying to reassure Emmeline. “I want to see everything in person. You’ve told me so much about your art, and your home.”

“Okay,” Emmeline looked around. “Let’s find a safe place to Apparate from.” Once they had located an Apparition point, she twined their fingers together.

They arrived in a small cottage with an audible crack. Hermione blinked in astonishment, taking in the combined living and studio space. It was littered with paintings, some on easels and others stacked against each other along the walls. At the center, there was a hooked rug and a crushed velvet loveseat.

Hermione took a moment to examine the paintings in more detail, crouching to inspect those that had yet to find new homes. The first painting was a seascape, waves crashing against the shore. As in, they were literally crashing. The paint rearranged itself again and again to mimic the ocean’s movement.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this,” Hermione murmured, mesmerized. “Moving paintings.”

Emmeline looked puzzled. “Surely you grew up with them, though, right? Your mum’s a witch, isn’t she?”

“Yeah,” Hermione caught herself. “Yeah—still amazing though, isn’t it? The intersection of art and enchantment?”

“I mean, I like to think so,” Emmeline laughed.

“So what’s it like, a day in the life of an artist?” Hermione asked, admiring another enchanted landscape.

Emmeline shrugged. “It’s always different. Sometimes I’ll go to a client’s home, if I’m working on a commission. Other days, I take my easel to a field or rocky shore and get lost in the beauty of it. Most of the paintings in this room are things I painted for myself.. What I need to be doing is figuring out how to sell them. I’ve never much liked the business side of working for myself.”

“No,” Hermione mused. “I imagine that’s the least interesting bit.”

Emmeline eventually coaxed her away from her work, and they settled onto the couch together. Hermione swallowed nervously. Their dates hadn’t made it to this point previously. A goodnight kiss, sure, but this was different. The expectation of more hung heavily in the air between them.

Hermione took the plunge, brushing Emmeline’s hair back and leaning forward to slide their mouths together. Their tongues met, exploring the expanse of each others’ slick mouths with interest. Hermione’s brow wrinkled in confusion. It still didn’t feel quite right.  She pushed forward, tipping Emmeline onto her back against the cushions.

“Hey,” Emmeline drew back, breathless from the kiss, and her eyes searched Hermione’s face. “Are you okay?”

Was she okay?

“Sorry,” Hermione frowned. “I think—Christ, I feel like an asshole. Apparently, I’m not quite as over my ex as I thought.”

“No, don’t,” Emmeline admonished softly. “You’re not an asshole.”

Hermione laughed self-effacingly as she sat up. “It’s not like Billie and I were even exclusive, but I just can’t stop thinking about her.”

“What’s she like?” Emmeline asked, sitting up and tucking her knees under her chin.

“She’s... grounded. Like, utterly unshakable. But also sort of a free-spirit?” Hermione laughed, scratching her forehead. “She’s going to uni for psychology. She wants to become a therapist. But she’s also extraordinarily good at cutting hair; that’s how we met, when she was still working at a barbershop.”

“Okay, but is she cute?” Emmeline quirked an eyebrow playfully.

Hermione giggled. “Yeah, she’s cute as shit. She’s got this wicked mouth with the fullest lips. And the most gorgeous dreadlocks that she keeps tied up on top of her head. Oh, and a septum ring.” Hermione pretended to swoon. “Her whole aesthetic. Merlin help me.”

“So what happened?” Emmeline asked softly. “Why’d you break up?”

“Well, for starters she’s a Muggle. She didn’t know about the war, and she wouldn’t have had any way to protect herself even if she did.” Hermione twisted her hands anxiously. “I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to her and it was because she was with me. I told her I’d met someone else, and they weren’t polyamorous. But that was bullshit.”

Emmeline frowned. “I’m sorry. I hope you find your way back to each other.”

“Thank you,” Hermione smiled sadly.

“Tell you what,” Emmeline nudged their knees together. “How about we break open a bottle of wine? I would say we could put on the telly, but I don’t have one. But I could tell you about all the ones that got away. I have a long history of falling for emotionally unavailable women.”

Hermione hid her face with her hands, peeking out through splayed fingers. “Yeah? Are you for real?”

“Absolutely. I think you’re aces, Hermione. Really.” She winked. “See, the benefit of going out with me a few times is that you’re pretty much automatically my best friend.”

“If you want,” she tacked on, tucking her hair behind her ear as she feigned shyness.

Hermione giggled. “Merlin, yeah. Honestly, I think I do have a huge crush on you, it’s just in the platonic vein.”

“I’m cool with that,” Emmeline smirked. “But you’ve got to promise me that if you and Billie do ever get back together, you’ll introduce us. I want to see this goddess in the flesh.”

Hermione laughed. “I think that’s highly unlikely, but sure. Why not?”

 

 

Sirius had recently come into possession of the infamous flying motorbike. Well, it hadn’t been flight capable at first, but he and James had quickly rectified the situation.

Remus’s stomach lurched as the bike careened towards the ground below, his arms clenching around Sirius’s middle. Sirius whooped with joy as they landed, the bike seeming to roar with matched enthusiasm. Remus buried his head in the crook of Sirius’s neck as he gradually brought them to a halt on the country lane.

“I’m never going to get used to that,” Remus shuddered.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” Sirius teased, his sides shaking with laughter at the sound of indignation that escaped Remus’s lips. “Don’t lie. I know you love riding with me.”

Remus hummed noncommittally as they hopped off the bike and stretched their legs.

“So I was thinking,” Sirius looked up at him coyly as he shuffled towards Remus. “That maybe you could drive on the way back.”

Remus’s stomach took another panicked dive.

“Excuse me, what?” He squeaked, eyes widening.

“It could be fun,” Sirius said, leaning up on his toes to curl his arms around Remus’s neck. Remus reflexively brought his arms to rest around his waist, momentarily distracted from Sirius’s ridiculous idea. He whined as Sirius nipped at his bottom lip.

“I really like the idea of riding behind you,” Sirius murmured, voice pitched low. “Teaching you how to fly. I bet you’d be such a good student.”

Remus gasped. “That’s just not fair, Pads.”

“Oh, Moons,” Sirius smirked. “You know I don’t play fair.”

He brought their lips together hungrily, fingers threaded through Remus’s hair and tugging in a way that left his head tingling. Remus groaned, resolve already reduced to ash.

Which was exactly how Remus found himself riding along that same country road, fingers gripping the handlebars tight enough that the colour bled from his knuckles. Lily was going to give him so much grief when she found out, he was sure of it.

“Okay,” Sirius sounded like the cat who caught the canary. “You’re doing great! We’re ready for takeoff. You just need a little bit more speed.” He paused, waiting for Remus. “Good! Okay, now you’re going to kick down there! Yep! Right there. And we’re going to lift up!”

Remus wanted to squeeze his eyes shut like he did when Sirius was in control, but he couldn’t. So he gritted his teeth, kicked, and up they went. Soaring above the fields, crops and country roads becoming smaller and smaller, he let go of another fear. In that moment, he felt that if he could do this, he could do anything.

He let out a jubilant roar that was quickly echoed by Sirius behind him. They burst up through the clouds, mere whisps around them, and Remus protested as he felt Sirius reach out to touch them.

“What?” he laughed, chest still pressed against Remus’s back. “Don’t like it when I let go of you?”

“Shut up,” Remus huffed, “and hold on for Christ’s sake.” He could feel Sirius continue to laugh, but he did wind his arms back around Remus’s middle. Remus savoured the feeling of the warm pressure of Sirius’s body wrapped around his own, carefully committing each sensation to memory. He never wanted to forget the sound of Sirius’s laughter in this moment.

After what felt like an eternity up among the clouds, they touched down close to Sirius’s flat. Remus drove the last bit of the way and parked. He climbed off the bike and his legs immediately turned to jelly.

“Woah there,” Sirius laughed softly as Remus wobbled. “Where ya going, big guy?”

“I might be a little out of sorts,” Remus admitted primly, letting Sirius take some of his weight. Sirius chuckled and supported him as he regained his balance. Remus couldn’t help but laugh, and Sirius tilted his head up for a quick kiss, lips pressed against Remus’s smiling mouth.

“Hey,” Sirius whispered. “I love you.” Remus stilled. It was as if his spirit had left his body, and with it, all thought or capacity for speech.

“Well,” he coughed, as his brain scrambled to catch up. “You know I love you, too.”

Sirius hummed, fiddling with Remus’s jumper. “I think I mean it a little differently than you do. But it's okay; you don't have to say it back. Really."

Remus frowned, and let himself be pulled upstairs. Sirius didn’t seem too put out as he threw together a stir fry and curled up on the couch with Remus that night. Remus couldn’t focus on the film, his inner turmoil manifesting as the voices of his friends telling him not to fuck it up. To do right by Sirius. And to not be a bloody coward.

“Pads—” he shifted, drawing Sirius's attention away from the telly.

“Yeah, babe?” Sirius smiled, his eyes soft.

“I love you, too,” Remus murmured. “Exactly the same as how you meant it.”

His lips curved up into a smile. “I don’t know about that, Moons. Could you truly match the affection I hold for you? I think not.”

Remus snorted, “You’re ridiculous. That’s probably why I love you so much.”

“But not as much as I love you,” Sirius grinned. “It’s unquantifiable.”

Notes:

I'm on a roll! Really, I'm trying to make sure to get y'all some updates early in the week, since it's my birthday this weekend. Going to eat a lot of fancy cheese and get wine-drunk.

Seriously though, could you leave a short comment letting me know how you're liking things post-Hogwarts? Haven't heard from y'all since chapter 24, and I'm a little nervous. 😅

xo Ace

Chapter 30

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Hermione sat down with a thump, her hair frizzing out in distress.

“Sorry I’m so late,” she grimaced. “This summer’s been crazy. If things don’t calm down at the shop, I think it might be time to move on. I just can’t handle that job on top of everything else.”

“No worries,” Frank smiled, pushing a cup across the table. “Here, got your usual.”

“Frank, you’re an angel.” She sighed happily as she took a sip of coffee. “How’s Alice?”

“She’s good. Just busted a bunch of poachers, actually. Her annual review is coming up in August, so it’s good timing.”

“That’s amazing!” Hermione beamed. “I’m sure it’ll go well. She’s, like, the most badass person on that force. Which is saying something; I know too many Aurors!”

He laughed, “Yeah, we’ll see how long that lasts. I’m not convinced that they’re all going to stick it out. It’s definitely not for everyone.”

Hermione hummed in agreement, thinking of her initial reservations when Sirius and James had decided to apply.

“How’s Remus doing?” Frank fiddled with his napkin. “I’ve noticed that Sirius has been... rather tense lately.”

“Things haven’t been easy for them,” she said slowly, lips turned down. “Remus has them in sort of a holding pattern; Sirius wants to move forward in the relationship and finally move in together, but Remus isn’t ready for that. I think that’s been really hard on him.”

Frank paused in consideration, before offering, “For a lot of people, relationships are thought of as having this trajectory, with marriage and kids and a white picket fence at the end. And if things are going smoothly, you’re continuously taking steps towards that—or whatever ‘that’ is for you.”

“Yeah,” Hermione frowned, and then her face lit with enthusiasm. “Yeah! Frank, that’s spot on! But the thing is, I don’t think every relationship needs to be on rails. Like, what if the measure of success was how affirmed or supported you both felt, rather than arbitrary goal posts that were constructed by an oppressive, capitalist society?”

“Y’know,” Frank mused. “I’m honestly not sure what Alice and I would have done if we hadn’t come from more traditional families. What our lives would look like.”

“I mean,” he continued, “Don’t get me wrong, I love being with her; I love being her husband. But I still wonder if we’d have married so young.”

“Yeah,” Hermione sat back with a sigh. “All that to say, relationships are hard. People are complicated.”

He snorted. “You can say that again. Are you still off the market then?”

She rolled her eyes, “Do you think I would even have time, if I was willing to let you set me up? Face it, brother. I’ve got time for the Order, my job at Kensington Flowers, Remus and the gang, and our coffee dates. Anything else is just not happening.”

“Okay, okay,” he laughed, lifting his palms in surrender. “I’ll put the matchmaking on hold.”

“Good,” she took a sip and set down her cup. “Listen, Frank—” she drew her eyebrows together, glancing up at him seriously.

“What?” he asked intently, leaning forward.

“I—I think I’m eventually going to do something really stupid. I can’t tell you anything more than that, but you’ll know it when it happens,” she said carefully, all too aware of the constraints on her speech. “But I’m hoping you might help me? When I do?”

“Of course.” He reached out to squeeze her hand. “Although you’re making me nervous right now.”

She shook her head. “Forget I said anything. It’s stupid.”

“No, Hermione. You can always count on me. I mean it,” he told her firmly. “You’re my sister, and you’re my friend.”

“Okay,” she deflated a little, squeezing back. She may not have truly been a Longbottom, but she was grateful to count Frank as family.

 

 

When Hermione returned to the flat, Remus was still on his hands and knees, scrubbing at the hardwood floor and imagining he could snuff out more than just the dirt that had accumulated there.

“Oh no.” She dropped her bag by the door. “Please tell me you’re not stress cleaning.”

He glanced up at her and wiped the sweat from his brow. “It’s therapeutic?” he offered helplessly. Hermione grumbled, kicking off her shoes and joining him on the floor.

“Okay, what can I do?”

He nodded towards a pile of junk, “You could sort through our clutter. It’s been accumulating for years at this point.”

“Two years, but okay,” she said drily as she began picking through it. She wrinkled her nose, relegating some old candy wrappers to the trash pile.

“Where did you even find all of this stuff?”

“Drawers,” Remus grunted, shoulders hunched as he redoubled his efforts.

She sighed, “I guess that is where we usually put stuff when we have to ‘clean’ before people come over.”

“Obviously not our best strategy,” she remarked, sorting through a pile of papers. “Trash, trash, keep, oh—”

“Remus,” she gasped. He kept scrubbing at the same boards. “Remus!

“What?” he bit back, his features twisting into a scowl.

“Look!” she held out an old napkin. “It’s our bucket list! From that first summer we spent together!”

“Blimey,” he whispered, scooting closer to her as his bad mood temporarily lifted.

They read through it together, Hermione clapping a hand over her mouth in amusement.

“Well, we can cross #10 off,” Remus snorted. “Actually, we can cross most of them off. It’s been a busy few years.”

“Indeed,” she murmured. “All that’s left is taking a trip abroad together.”

“Well, not all,” he smirked at her.

“Remus,” she hissed. “I never agreed to go to a strip club! It shouldn’t even be on here; I know you’ve already been to one!”

“James’s first bachelor party,” Remus sighed wistfully. “Simpler times.”

Casting a sly gaze in her direction, he wheedled, “You know, we have one conveniently located just next door.”

She threw up her hands in cheerful exasperation. “Fine, fine. You win.”

“Anything to avoid cleaning, huh?” he teased, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. His stomach was in knots again.

“Shots,” Hermione said firmly, pulling herself, and then him, up. “And then we go.”

By the time they made it through the doors of the neighboring building, they were just starting to feel the effects of the tequila, slung back without lime.

Remus giggled as Hermione looked around the club, eyes wide. There was a stage in the center of the room, with twin poles extending up to the ceiling. Two dancers slid their bodies along them, clad only in go-go boots and, at least currently, thongs.

“Wow,” she breathed as Remus lead her over to a small table. “I feel like I shouldn’t be here. But also, it’s been a hot minute since I saw someone else’s tits. Aren’t tits incredible?”

He snorted. “Okay, wait here you weirdo. I’m going to grab a pint.”

“Sure,” she said, her eyes not leaving the stage.

A few rounds of beer later and the novelty of the place had started to wear off, if only a little. Hermione set her drink down with a bit more force than intended. She clapped a hand over her mouth as it sloshed over the rim. Remus dissolved in giggles, sliding down in his chair.

“Remus,” she hissed. “Sit up! If we look too drunk, they’re going to make us leave!”

“Heaven forbid,” he snorted, even as he complied.

“Don’t even,” she huffed. “How was I supposed to know how amazing this place was! Even the food! It’s so good!”

“Don’t you dare suggest having our next pub night here.”

“Why not?” she tossed her head and picked up another greasy chip. “I think our friends would love it.”

Remus scoffed, “Not everyone is as thirsty as you are, love.”

“That’s because most of you aren’t celibate at the moment,” she complained through a mouthful of potato. Remus quieted, frowning at his glass.

“Okay, spill,” she demanded, leaning over the table towards him as if she was an investigator, albeit a cute, slightly drunk one. “What the hell happened today?”

“What? Nothing,” Remus looked off towards the stage, pretending to be captivated by the show.

“Remus, you’re not into women,” Hermione kicked him under the table. “Don’t even try it.”

“Fine,” he sighed in frustration. “It was a shit day. I went over to Sirius’s this morning since it’s his day off. He started complaining that we don’t spend enough time together.”

“And?”

Remus threw up his hands. “And I suggested he start seeing other people! That if his needs aren't being met, maybe we should open up the relationship, y’know.”

Hermione groaned. “Remus, no. I can imagine that went over about as well as a lead balloon.”

“Approximately, yeah,” he hesitated. “He thought it was about you... That I want you.”

“He does realize you’re gay?”

“Yeah,” Remus scratched his neck. “But I mean, it’s not like I’m fundamentally against pussy or anything. I’m just queer for queers. Queers mostly being men in my case. But I’ve slept with a couple of bi women before, and there was Tonks of course.”

“Are you saying you do want to be with me?”

“No!” Remus exclaimed. “Well, not in that way.”

“Explain,” she narrowed her eyes at him.

“Look,” he sighed. “Even if there wasn’t a war on—” Hermione shushed him loudly.

“—and we didn’t have to live together, I’d still want to have this sort of relationship with you. More than friends, but not lovers. Do you know what I mean?”

“That’s very nice, Rem,” Hermione spoke slowly and with great concentration. “And I feel the same. You’re like... you’re like my partner. Like, someone I love and want to be with, but platonically.”

“Yes! Exactly.”

“But you have to talk to Sirius,” she frowned at him. “He doesn’t want an open relationship! And let’s be honest. Neither do you. You have to tell him you were being an idiot.”

“But Hermione,” Remus stared at her, his eyes wide. “When I’m gone—I’m just trying to protect—”

“Well stop it!” she snapped. “It’s obviously not helping.” Softer, she continued, “Babe, we’ll figure it out. Okay? But you have to talk to him.”

“See?” he half-smiled. “What would I do without you, love?”

“Well, for starters—” she began before he cut her off, with a gentle palm to the face. As long as they had each other to lean on, they’d be okay.

Notes:

Whew! Thank y'all so much for commenting on the last chapter. There's a definite correlation between them and feeling inspired to just keep writing. So, I've got this chapter for you today and probably another one tomorrow! Positive feedback is a great motivator. 😉

On a more serious note, my week's not going super well. I've been arguing with an acquaintance/friend about Biden's executive order on gender discrimination. Definitely giving me some weird vibes about writing in the HP fandom given JKR's terf writings and general shittiness. I definitely justify it by making most of her characters queer, but if you're reading this: I sincerely hope that you also support trans rights and have been boycotting anything that supports her monetarily.

Have a great week. Love y'all.

Chapter 31

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

It had poured the day of Euphemia and Fleamont’s funeral, an unrelenting torrent of rain that matched the grief drowning their two sons. It had been Dragon Pox, of all things. The disease had left their skin pockmarked and tinged with green as they withered away in St. Mungo’s, until they finally succumbed to the virus. James and Sirius had been left reeling in the wake, not even given a proper mourning period before the Order sent them on their next assignment.

Lily, Remus, and their friends had done what they could, but the boys had preferred to pack their heartache away. Instead, they clung to each moment they could steal with the people they loved between missions and training. Each kiss a little fiercer, each laugh a little louder. It had to be enough.

Sirius sat curled up against Remus’s chest with his legs propped up on James, while Remus drew lazy little circles on his back. Remus let his eyes flutter shut as he leaned back against the sofa. James and Lily were still making do with their little flat, crowded but comfortable. He couldn’t remember exactly when they moved to Godric’s Hollow, but he assumed it must be soon.

Just as he’d started to drift off, Sirius sat up with a groan, disturbing the peaceful moment. His arms stretched out and knocked James across the chest. 

“Oi!” James grunted. “Watch it, mate.”

“Sorry.” Sirius grinned unrepentantly as he stood. “Didn’t see you there.”

“Patrol?” Remus guessed, already missing the solid warmth of his body pressed close.

“Regrettably,” Sirius confirmed, running a weary hand through his hair as he tied it up. “Another shift with the turd.”

“Ugh,” James gagged. “I hate that guy.”

Remus’s jaw tensed and he grit his teeth. It was a good thing they’d never met; he feared he might do something colossally stupid to Sutherland if he got the chance.

“Hey,” Sirius murmured, crawling back onto his lap for a tender kiss. Remus relaxed into his soft lips and soothing hands. Sirius drew back reluctantly and waited for Remus to meet his eyes. “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” Remus whispered, hands twisted in Sirius’s shirt.

“You’ve got to let me go,” Sirius whispered, still caught in his embrace. Grudgingly, Remus released his shirt and smoothed out the wrinkles that had collected in the thin cotton. Sirius stood back up with a half-smile.

“You never kiss me goodbye, Pads,” James complained loudly, garnering a raised eyebrow from more than just Sirius.

“Well,” he drawled. “Remus is leagues more attractive than you are, so I hardly think it should come as a surprise.”

James scoffed with apparent affront. He turned towards Lily, who was painting her nails on the carpet. “Can you believe it? Eight years of friendship, and nothing,” he lamented. “Not in all this time! It’s like he doesn’t even—”

Sirius rolled his eyes and cut him off. James squeaked in surprise as Sirius planted a sloppy kiss on his lips.

“Ew, Pads!” James’s face twisted in disgust. He wiped a sleeve across his mouth, still glaring at Sirius. “We’re brothers! That’s incestuous!”

“From what I can tell,” Lily remarked drily as she blew on her nails, “the Sacred Twenty-Eight couldn’t have remained pure without a little old-fashioned inbreeding.”

“Sick burn, Lils,” Sirius grinned at her, stopping to ruffle her hair on his way out. He picked up his bag and called over his shoulder, “Don’t have too much fun without me!”

“No promises!” James shouted as the door slammed shut. Peter emerged from the small hallway that led to the toilet, drying his hands on his trousers.

“What’d I miss?” He blinked as he took in James’s still pink cheeks and Remus and Lily’s barely contained laughter.

James leapt to his feet and slung an arm around Peter’s shoulders. “Absolutely nothing, Wormy!” He glared at his wife and friend, who smirked at each other conspiratorially. “I’m surrounded by clowns, that’s all.”

James released Peter and made a beeline for the kitchen. He pulled on an apron and began banging around, ducking his head as he rooted around for a cutting board and saucepan.

Remus shifted uncomfortably in his seat, eyes darting over to Peter, who had dropped into the abandoned spot next to him. It was becoming increasingly difficult to be in his company, all the while wondering if Peter had already betrayed them. They were supposed to be family. Remus shivered, remembering the feral man that had sprouted from Ron’s ‘pet rat’ in the Shrieking Shack that night. But no, he reminded himself, people could change and there was no guarantee of Peter's betrayal in this new timeline. Still, it was hard to reconcile the truth he’d once known with the possibilities before him. 

“It’s James’s night to cook,” Lily stage whispered as she collected the bottles of nail polish. “I think he’s sort of hoping you’ll stick around.”

“Sorry,” Remus twisted his hands nervously, leaping upon the excuse to get away. “I promised Hermione we’d do dinner together tonight.”

“Oh,” Lily’s shoulders sagged a little, barely noticeable. His stomach knotted in guilt as she put on a bright, reassuring smile. “Of course! Give Hermione our love. We haven’t seen her in ages.”

“I will,” he promised, ducking into the kitchen to clap James on the shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he winked. “I’d give you a kiss, too, but I don’t think your heart could take it.”

“Moony,” James half-laughed, half-choked. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say Sirius was rubbing off on you.”

“He’s doing a lot more than just that,” Remus said slyly. James smacked himself in the forehead and mumbled, “Walked right into that one.”

“That you did,” Remus said cheerfully. “I’ll see you next soon! Sorry I can’t stay.”

“Yeah, yeah,” James waved him off. “Get out of here, you tosser!”

 

 

Remus unlocked the door to their flat only to be met with the increasingly familiar sight of Regulus Black. He sighed and let the door swing shut behind him.

Regulus had been inducted as a Death Eater early that summer, just out of Hogwarts. But by August, he’d darkened their doorstep, suspicious but at his wits’ end, and the three of them had constructed a fragile alliance. It hadn’t always been easy, establishing the trust needed to work together. Regulus didn’t understand why they would go out of their way to help him, particularly without involving his brother or their other friends. And while Remus and Hermione knew that he had defected in the original timeline, they didn’t know why he’d stolen the locket from the cave, leaving a decoy for Dumbledore and Harry to find.

Remus had been surprised to learn that—in addition to finding the act of splitting one’s soul utterly depraved—Regulus felt an overwhelming sense of loyalty and duty to Kreacher. Voldemort had made a grave error in asking to borrow the Black family house-elf to test the Horcrux’s defenses. When Kreacher had returned to him half-dead, delirious with pain and thirst, Regulus had snapped and come looking for Remus and Hermione, recalling their offer.

Privately, Remus wondered if he was truly motivated by pettiness or perhaps spite. But Regulus had found a kindred spirit in Hermione, that was undeniable. Even if they didn’t necessarily agree on liberation, they both felt passionately that house-elves deserved better than they found in many homes.

Remus nudged his shoes off and hovered near where the two of them had spread out, papers forming a chaotic ring around them.

“Please tell me you brought takeout,” Regulus said haughtily from his cross-legged position on the floor. “I think this one’s about to murder us all.”

“I had to explain to him what ‘hangry’ meant,” Hermione said drily.

“Well, I certainly hope it doesn’t come to that. Murder, that is,” Remus snorted and tossed a chocolate bar at them. “That might help. But you should really take a break. I’ll make dinner.”

He strode over to the kitchen and pulled out a saucepan, filling it with water from the sink. He turned on the gas and lit the stove with a wordless spell. Placing the pot on the range, he sprinkled salt into the water generously. It should taste like the ocean, his mother always said.

Carefully ignoring the shadow of a boy who hovered by the far counter, Remus pulled out a cutting board and chef's knife and grabbed a head of garlic. He began separating the cloves, lightly crushing them to remove the papery skins. As he sliced through each clove, he nodded to Regulus.

“Could you light another burner?” he asked casually, as if cooking with your boyfriend’s estranged brother was perfectly normal; something he did all the time. “We need to heat a frying pan.”

Regulus opened his mouth as if he wanted to protest, but slowly closed it and approached the stove with caution. Remus ignored him, continuing to work on the garlic.

“Grab one of those,” Remus murmured once he’d successfully lit the burner, nodding at one of the pans hanging above. Regulus reached up, but he couldn’t quite reach it. Cheeks flushed with embarrassment, he straightened his back and used his wand to dislodge and levitate a pan within arms reach. Remus hid a smile.

When he finished with the garlic, Remus was pleased to find that Regulus had positioned the pan neatly over the flame.

“I’m just going to add a little oil,” Remus said. “Well, maybe a bit more than that.” He added a couple of generous glugs to the pan. “Could you pass the spaghetti? Yeah, that long sleeve.”

He tore open the package and dumped the pasta into the now boiling water.

“Now,” he continued, pouring the garlic slices into the hot oil. “We add some crushed red pepper... and we wait.” He handed a pronged spoon to Regulus. “Can you handle stirring it for a few minutes? I’m going to freshen up.”

“Of course I can,” Regulus scoffed. Remus tried not to laugh, catching Hermione’s eye as he turned away. She looked almost as bemused as he felt. When he made it back to the kitchen, Regulus was diligently alternating between stirring the pasta and the garlic. Remus bit back a laugh. Never had spaghetti been so tenderly looked after; so well agitated.

“Thanks,” he said, sliding in next to him. “At this point, we just need to transfer a bit of the pasta water and all the spaghetti to the sauce and stir.”

“No parmesan?” Regulus looked affronted, his brows knit together in concern.

“We’ll grate some on top,” Remus amended, which seemed to appease him.

When they settled back into their work that night, Remus felt hope blooming in his chest. It felt silly to say, but Regulus’s willingness and desire to help prepare a meal was more reassuring to him than anything Regulus had said about his motivations.

“Okay,” Remus rubbed his hands together. “Catch me up.”

Notes:

Y'all. I have been waiting for THIRTY chapters for Regulus to team up with Hermione and Remus! I am so damn excited to bring him into the fold. Hope y'all enjoyed him learning how to make Spaghetti Aglio e Olio. 😅

As always, please please please leave some love in the comments! I read & respond to each one.

xo Ace

Chapter 32

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Hermione finally quit her part-time job at Kensington Flowers. It would have been ludicrous to try and continue after Regulus entered their lives. She’d have died from the stress alone, nevermind not having enough hours in the day.

She was constantly on edge, terrified that they’d be caught unawares and have to explain how it was that they were keeping company with a Death Eater. They’d already had a few close calls, James or Sirius having stopped by unannounced; Remus had scrambled to hide their research while Regulus ducked into Hermione’s room. She was almost certain she’d gained a few gray hairs on those days.

That afternoon, however, she’d left Regulus and Remus to fend for themselves. She’d been tailing her real parents—Hermione Granger’s parents—for the past couple of weeks, waiting for the right moment to affect a small, but not inconsequential, change.

She absently thumbed through the row of books in front of her and drew one out at random to flip through.

Right on time, she thought with relief as Jean Granger walked through the door of the bookshop, bell tinkling merrily. She appeared to visit every Sunday, losing herself among the stacks for a precious hour. Her mother had always taken refuge in books when she needed to recharge.

Hermione glanced back down and scrutinized the book she’d grabbed: The Stand by Stephen King. She wrinkled her nose. Not really her genre of choice. She reshelved it and took a meandering path towards the parenting books.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, feigning surprise, “Sorry, but have you read that?” She nodded towards the copy of Your Baby and Child that her mother held open. “My friend is expecting, and I’ve been meaning to do some light reading.”

Jean looked up at her in surprise. She was nearly due, her belly round and heavy with the child growing within. “I’ve only skimmed it,” she smiled tentatively. “Some of the women in my prenatal class recommended it.”

“I’ll have to check it out,” Hermione beamed at her. It was surreal, seeing her mother at home in the 70s with her beautiful afro and embroidered peasant blouse.

Jean shifted, looking slightly puzzled. Finally, she asked, “So, when is your friend due?”

“Oh not for ages,” Hermione said. While Lily wasn’t expecting quite yet, Hermione estimated that they would conceive Harry in October. Not long to go.

“You look about to burst,” Hermione smiled. “Any day now, huh?”

“Hmm, quite,” Jean looked amused, giving her another once over. “Please don’t tell me you’re going to want to rub my belly for good luck.”

“Never!” Hermione laughed. “Even I know that’d be quite rude.”

“Good.” Jean’s lips twitched. “What did you say your name was?”

“Hermione,” she said, adding wryly. “My parents thought themselves very well-read.”

“Really?” Her eyebrows shot up. “John and I were thinking of Hermione for our daughter. We love Shakespeare.”

“Oh,” Hermione grimaced, leaning forward as if to take Jean into her confidence, “Let me tell you, I’ve always rather hated it. I was bullied throughout school; no one could pronounce it!”

“Oh dear,” she frowned. “That won’t do. I hadn’t even considered—”

“What about something a little simpler?” Hermione suggested, trying for earnest enthusiasm. There was no need for the little girl who would share her face to also share her name. “Maybe a family name. Or if you wanted to stick with Shakespeare, Viola is lovely. And a much more interesting character if you ask me.”

“I don’t believe I did,” she said with amusement, looking at Hermione like she was a mystery to unravel. “But I think you’re right. Thank you.”

She offered her copy of the book to Hermione. “Your friend is lucky to have you,” she said, squeezing Hermione’s arm on her way past. Hermione watched her leave, a lump forming in her throat. Goodbye, mum.

 

 

Remus’s eyes darted around the dark cavern as Kreacher showed them where the invisible boat was anchored. He flexed his hand, still tender from the blood sacrifice required upon entrance.

Kreacher took Regulus across the dark lake first, as planned. Regulus was to start drinking the Emerald Potion while Kreacher came back for Hermione. Although the enchanted boat could carry only one adult wizard at a time, Kreacher was free to ferry them across as needed. Remus idly wondered what Voldemort would think, if he knew a house-elf would be his undoing.

After what seemed an eternity, Kreacher arrived back at the entrance and Hermione climbed into the boat, spine stiff with unease. Remus watched apprehensively as they disappeared into the darkness.

He could barely make out the island in the center of the pitch-black lake. Its greenish glow reflected eerily across the surface of the water. Remus drew his shoulders back. He couldn’t let his guard down here. While the poison on the island would leave you weak and on the verge of madness, the true danger was the Inferi that lurked below the still waters. They formed an army, the hundreds of Muggles and handful of wizards that Voldemort had murdered and left to guard this piece of his cursed soul.

Remus started as the boat came back into view, lit like a beacon. Hermione had attached a flare to it in an effort to increase its visibility from both the shore and the island. As they neared, Remus grimaced at the sight of Regulus, doubled over in pain from the Drink of Despair.

“MASTER, NO!” Kreacher screeched. Regulus had clawed a hand out into the lake, gasping for water with a thirst that couldn’t be quenched. Even as Kreacher scrambled to reel him back into the boat, Remus could see that the damage had been done. In disturbing the surface of the lake, Regulus had roused the undead army below.

Skeletal hands reached up from the inky depths of the water. Inferi clawed towards the boat, their cloudy, white eyes fixed on the cowering forms of Regulus and Kreacher. Remus gripped his wand and called forth a great wall of fire that skirted just past the boat. From the island, Hermione did the same on the other side, engulfing the lake in flame. The Inferi fell back, instinctively flinching away from the heat and light.

Remus grit his teeth, keeping the flame alive as the boat continued on, Kreacher doggedly thrusting the flare out at any Inferi who dared to approach. Sweat rolled off his brow and trickled down his neck. It wouldn’t be long now.

The second the boat docked, Remus relaxed his wand arm and helped Kreacher drag Regulus onto the shore.

“Hermione—” he choked out as he tugged Regulus towards him.

Kreacher looked back towards the lake with a faint tremble to his long fingers. “Kreacher cannot take the boat back out, sir.”

Remus cursed under his breath. “Merlin help us. Plan B had better work then.”

He held Regulus up with one arm, the other trained on the lake, ready to ward off the undead with more fire. To his great relief, Hermione’s airborne form soon came into view, and then she was landing shakily next to him, stowing her broomstick in her bag.

“You got the locket?” He asked, scooping Regulus up in his arms as they made a break for the cave entrance. He weighed next to nothing, his small, shaking body curling into Remus’s chest.

“Yeah,” she nodded hurriedly, keeping a flame going behind them as the Inferi began climbing out of the lake. Held off by the fire, they paused long enough for the living to escape the cave. On the other side of the barrier, the haggard group caught their breath. Hermione put her hands on her knees, chest heaving.

Kreacher anxiously twisted his spindly hands around each other. His gaze remained fixed on where Regulus lay, jabbering softly into Remus’s chest.

“Master will be okay?” Kreacher asked with pleading eyes. “Master must be okay. Master wouldn’t leave Kreacher—”

Hermione blinked up at him, wiping the sweat from her brow. “He’ll be fine, Kreacher,” she assured him. “The potion was only meant to incapacitate the drinker for a short time, not kill them outright. He’ll recover from this, like you did."

He nodded solemnly. “Kreacher will take good care of Master Regulus.”

“You’ll have our help,” Remus promised, shifting Regulus in his arms. He was one of theirs now.

 

 

“Can you believe it?” James beamed, one arm wrapped around Lily, squeezing her against his side where they hovered in the sitting room, crowded with their friends and a pile of moving boxes. “A little Prongslet.”

“You may have mentioned it a few times,” Remus said drily, slouched against the couch cushions. Hermione swatted him but laughed into her drink.

“It’s okay, mate,” Sirius shot them a dirty look as he slung an arm around James. “I’m excited enough to make up for any sour pusses among us.”

“Well thank God for that,” Lily snorted, extricating herself from James’s clutches. “You can be excited on my behalf, too. I’m dead on my feet.”

“We’ll come by tomorrow,” Remus promised, even as his aching bones protested. They’d been stretched thin for too long. “Help you pack some boxes.”

“I can’t believe you’re moving to a village,” Sirius complained for the hundredth time. “It’s so pedestrian.”

“Well, luckily we can come bother you in London any time we need a little more excitement,” James winked. “And you can come visit us in Godric’s Hollow anytime you want a little peace and quiet.”

“It’s Padfoot,” Peter laughed, cross-legged on the carpet. “Does he even know the meaning of peace and quiet?”

“Do you, Pete?” Remus snapped before he could stop himself. He scrubbed a hand over his face in frustration. He was just so tired and anxious. It was relentless, the feeling of time starting to unravel between his clumsy fingers, much like Hermione’s yarn.

“What’s that even supposed to mean?” Peter asked, a wounded expression crossing his pinched face.

“I think our Moony is nearing his time of the month,” James laughed it off, shooting Remus a look that clearly said ‘get it together, mate.’

Remus sighed and let his eyes close, trying to ground himself. He couldn’t let this happen again; Peter dividing them, planting seeds of doubt in Sirius’s mind that would tear their lives apart. Not that that was guaranteed to happen this time, he reminded himself firmly. Peter could make a different choice.

Hermione pressed their sides together and squeezed his knee. He leaned into her gratefully as he collected his thoughts, his mind beginning to clear.

He had to tell Sirius. It wasn’t part of the plan, but this was untenable. If Hermione agreed—well, she had to. She just had to.

Notes:

I was able to finish up one more chapter for y'all this week! Badda boom, badda bam.

As far as Hermione intercepting her mother goes, I feel like for continuity reasons, it was important to try and change baby Granger's name in this timeline.

Speaking of, it's my birthday today! If you want to get me a present, drop a comment below. 😉

xo Ace

Chapter 33

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“Only two days ‘til Christmas, huh Moons?” Sirius smiled tiredly at him from across the table at the small cafe. Just around the corner from Diagon Alley in Muggle London, it had become a mainstay with its cheap sandwiches and strong tea.

Remus snorted, “Finally, the barrage will stop. If I ever hear “Santa Baby” again, Merlin help me—”

“Truly, your life is the most difficult,” Sirius teased, before wolfing down the last half of his sandwich. Remus narrowed his eyes at him.

“If you play it on Christmas, I will end you.”

“You would never,” Sirius scoffed, adding with a wink “I’m too cute.”

“I do rather like having you around,” Remus admitted as he reached across the table to tangle their fingers together. Sirius still wore the Potter signet ring. Remus noted the contrast between the heavy, formal jewellery and Sirius’s chipped black nail polish with amusement.

“See?” Sirius smirked. “I knew you loved me.” He glanced at the clock. “Damn. I have to run. My lunch break’s almost over and Sutherland will have my ass if I’m late again.”

“Sure, love,” Remus squeezed his hand. “Listen, though—do you have time tonight? There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”

“Ominous,” Sirius raised an eyebrow.

“Nah, nothing bad,” Remus said cheerfully, even as he winced internally. It was a little bad—maybe a lot bad? “It’s just been hard to find a moment alone with you lately.”

“Yeah,” Sirius stood wearily. “There’s always something, isn’t there? But yeah, come by my place tonight. I’ll pick up takeout on my way home.”

“Sure,” Remus said, flashing him a tight smile. He could do this. He was going to do this. He’d have to find a way to communicate it. Sirius deserved the truth. It was time to come clean, to lay all his cards out on the table and have faith in their relationship.

“Okay,” Sirius murmured, stooping to give him a quick kiss before he left. “Bye, Moons.”

 

 

When he came to, he was absolutely freezing. He blinked in confusion, staring up into the cloudless sky. The last thing he remembered was arriving back at his flat and delving into a book.

“Remus—” Hermione gasped, helping him sit upright. They had been deposited in a snow-covered clearing, surrounded by pine trees that stretched towards the sky.

“What the hell,” he muttered as he brushed off his jumper. Why were they in the woods? This didn’t make any sense.

Hermione glanced nervously behind him, her fingers gripping his arm. He turned slowly, dread pooling in the pit of his stomach. It was them. He’d know those glittering eyes anywhere.

“So,” they peered down at him. They were beautiful in a terrifying, ethereal sort of way that made Remus want to claw his own eyes out. Their skin was as pale as moonlight, almost translucent. Remus wondered if this was their true shape or just another mask. “You are finally awake.”

“I thought it was time we had a little chat,” they said with a feral smile. “You seem to be under the impression that you may freely disclose the nature and origin of your time here.”

Remus swallowed. This was not good.

“And you see,” they continued, tossing their raven black hair. “That is simply not true. I have given you this chance. An opportunity to tip the scales. But it is simply not going to work if you continue trying to reveal our scheme. I brought you here and can just as easily take you back.”

“But Sirius—” Hermione tried on his behalf. He could feel her shaking against his side. Or was he the one shaking? He was so cold—and so very angry. And scared? Yes, more than scared; terrified.

“He is not to be told anything,” they snapped. “You presume too much. I have already been more than generous, allowing you to form an alliance with the brother. But to seek further aid? That would hardly be fair, would it?”

Remus forced himself to keep his eyes trained on their awful, inhuman face. He wanted to speak, to argue. But the words wouldn’t come.

“No,” they continued with a sneer. “You are to carry out this mission; just the...three of you. Can your tiresome mortal minds comprehend that?”

The two of them nodded reluctantly, Remus’s throat closing up painfully.

“Good,” they cast one last scorching glare at the huddled pair. “Do not forget it again. I will be watching.”

And just like that, they were gone and Remus and Hermione were left trembling in the clearing.

“Fuck,” Remus slammed his fist into the frozen ground. “FUCK!” he repeated with a scream that echoed through the forest. Hermione scrambled to her feet and reached a hand out to pull him up. She paced to and from within the clearing while he seethed, raging against their circumstances. How was it that—in both timelines—he became embedded in a web of lies? Was it him? Was he the common denominator? Was this his fault?

“Okay,” she stopped in front of him, catching his face in her hands. “We need to make a plan. Can you do that with me?” He nodded tightly and she released him.

“Okay, we’re in a forest. I don’t think we’re in England anymore. Maybe—maybe Sweden? Or Norway?” she rattled off, shaken. “I don’t have my wand. Or my bag. Do you have an ID on you? Money? Anything?”

He shook his head.

“Christ,” she muttered, tugging on her curls in frustration. Remus drew back his shoulders and tried to settle his own mind. His crisis was going to have to wait.

“We have to start moving,” he turned slowly as he took in their surroundings with a more discerning eye. “With any luck, we can find our way to a village today. Track down some more information and plan from there.”

“Okay,” Hermione slowly exhaled, some of the tension melting away from her features. She added, quietly, “Thank you.”

 

 

After two days of traipsing across Europe with no means, they arrived back at their flat in London. Remus pushed the door open, looking around with dread. On the kitchen counter, they found a note, signed by Hermione.

“Did you write that?” Remus asked, grinding his teeth together.

“Nope,” she popped her lips for emphasis. They quietly seethed together, re-reading the short missive.

I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to say goodbye, but I wanted to surprise Remus with this trip. We’ll be in Sweden for the next few days, but don’t worry, we’ll be back in time for New Years. Sorry we missed you! Happy Christmas. -Hermione

“Bloody fucking hell,” Remus growled. This was the reason he was expected to give for disappearing for two whole days?

Hermione squeezed his arm. “Go hop through the shower and clear your head. Then, you need to go to Sirius.”

He scrubbed a hand over his dirty face. “And say what? ‘I’m sorry for straight up disappearing over Christmas with my best friend, who you’re insanely jealous of?’”

“Maybe not your best opener,” Hermione said carefully. Their eyes met and they were both silent for a moment as the absurdity of the situation sunk in before dissolving into hysterical laughter.

“Merlin,” he said, sobering. “I’m fucked.”

“Just go to him—you’ll work it out,” she murmured, rubbing his back sympathetically. He relaxed into her touch until she wrinkled her nose and continued, “Shower first, though. Definitely shower first.”

 

 

Remus sagged against the rail outside Sirius’s flat, hands stuffed into his pockets. He was dead on his feet, but he had to see him, had to at least apologize.

Sirius answered the door, his face stony as he moved aside to let Remus in. He shut the door behind them and leaned against the back of the couch with his arms crossed.

“What the hell happened, Remus?” 

“I’m so sorry, Pads.” Remus pulled at his fresh jumper nervously.  The note was a load of bollocks and a terrible excuse, but it was all he had. “It was all so spur of the moment. Hermione wanted to surprise me; a trip abroad had been something on our—”

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!” Sirius bellowed. “You couldn’t be arsed to send word to me—to any of us! We had to descend upon your flat, thinking the worst, thinking you might be dead, only to find a few lines from her .”

Remus felt his nerves fraying with each passing second. He sure as hell hadn’t wanted to be stranded in Sweden with no money, no wand, not even a passport. He’d wanted to be here.

“I’m sorry!” Remus grit out, his head swimming with exhaustion. “It was a stupid mistake and I—”

“It’s just so bloody typical. James thought the note might even be fake, you know. But it was classic Remus and Hermione. Always going off together, keeping secrets, doing whatever you want, to hell with everyone else,” Sirius interrupted angrily. “It’s Christmas, you know. You should have been here.”

“I know,” Remus rasped, feeling like he was about to pass out. “I’m sorry, Pads. I’m so sorry.”

Sirius quieted, eying him with distrust. Dangerously calm, he continued, “I’m just so confused, Moony. I really am. Are you fucking her? Is that why you asked to open up our relationship—”

“I’m not sleeping with Hermione!” Remus snapped. “And I don’t even want an open relationship! We talked about this—”

“Then why!” Sirius raised his voice. “Why weren’t you here? Are you working for the other side? Did Voldemort send for you? Explain it to me, because I don’t fucking get it!”

Remus felt his body go cold and rigid. This wasn’t supposed to happen; Sirius trusted him this time. They were lovers... partners. Had Peter said something? 

“Pads, no,” Remus whispered, his voice cracking. “I would never—I could never betray you, or our friends like that.”

Sirius pressed his hands to his head, palms digging into his eyes. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Remus‘s heart hammering in his chest as he waited for him to say something, anything. Finally, Sirius relaxed his hands.

“I have to go,” he muttered, avoiding Remus’s gaze.

“What? Why?” Suddenly, Remus found himself struggling to breathe.

“Mission,” Sirius shrugged. “Dumbledore asked last-minute.”

Remus blinked back tears, noticing for the first time the small duffel bag that lay packed by the door.

“Please, don’t leave like this,” Remus whispered. “I just—I need to know we’re okay.”

“Well, we’re not bloody okay, are we?” Sirius snapped. He softened, seeing Remus flinch. He sighed, “Listen, Moons. I need some space, okay? I know I’m not thinking straight right now. I’m sorry. Can we talk when I get back?”

“Okay,” Remus deflated. “That’s fine. Just... stay safe, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Sirius picked up his duffel bag and gently squeezed Remus’s shoulder on his way out. “You too.”

 

 

If you asked him, Remus couldn’t have told you how he made it home afterward. He felt like he was about to keel over; he was so bloody exhausted. All he wanted was to fall into his bed and sleep for thirty-six hours. Then maybe he’d be able to pull himself together and figure out how to fix this.

Instead, Remus pushed open the door to their flat and found an even larger problem. He swept his eyes over Regulus and turned to Hermione, who was bent over their bug-out bags.

“I can’t handle any more shit today,” he growled. “Please tell me this isn’t what it looks like.”

“It’s exactly what it looks like,” Regulus jeered weakly, sprawled across the couch. He was still recovering from his tangle with Voldemort’s Emerald Potion. While he was capable of being up and about like everything was fine, it took a toll on him after the fact. “If you have eyes and a working brain, that is.”

“Yes, thank you Regulus,” Hermione said drily as she zipped up the backpacks. She exhaled shakily, looking up at Remus with eyes that said the wrong thing, the thing he didn’t want to hear. “This is it, babe. Plan D for Disappear.”

“No,” he dropped onto the sofa next to Regulus. “No! That’s the shit plan!”

“It’s the plan that keeps us alive long enough to figure things out,” Regulus said. He paused, continuing, “I know we didn’t think it was going to happen this soon. But I had a chance, while I was at Malfoy Manor last night; I stole the diary.”

“Merlin,” Remus closed his eyes and let his head fall back onto the cushions with a soft thud. “Why would you do that while we were gone?”

“Well, I didn’t exactly realize that at the time. It wasn’t until I came back here afterward that I saw your note.” He frowned at them. “You really should have told me you were leaving.”

“Sorry,” Remus muttered, his skin crawling in irritation.

“Anyways,” Hermione interrupted, tossing them each a backpack. “Time’s up, boys. We have to leave. It’s been risky enough for Regulus, staying in London today.”

Regulus smirked. “Lucius must be in an absolute panic right now.”

“You don’t think he’s gone to Voldemort?” Remus asked, a new knot of worry forming in his stomach.

Regulus shook his head, “No, he’ll want to save face. Unless the Dark Lord asked to see it, he would never admit to having lost it.”

“It gives us an advantage,” Hermione agreed. “But we have to disappear now. All of us; we’re a team. If it’s not safe here for one of us, it’s not safe here for any of us.”

“Hermione,” Remus rasped. “Please. Sirius—”

“I know,” she murmured, reaching out a hand. She squeezed their fingers together. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Remus.”

“I didn’t even get to say goodbye,” he whispered as she pulled him to his feet. “I never wanted to leave—”

He wiped tears from his cheeks furiously. Regulus picked himself up off the couch and hovered awkwardly, a small crease appearing between his brows.

“I know,” Hermione wrapped an arm around Remus’s waist as he squeezed his eyes shut and breathed.

“Ready?” she murmured. He heard Regulus agree, so he nodded tightly.

They Disapparated with a crack, and in a single moment, Remus felt that part of his life slam shut behind them with heart-wrenching finality.

Notes:

I'm so sorry, babes. 😭 It killed me to do this, but we've got to move onto the next part of the story. I *promise* that there will be a happy ending. But things are going to be rough for a little while. Please be kind to both Remus & Sirius—they're both under a heck of a lot of stress in this chapter.

On a lighter note, thank you to all of my new readers! I've been nerding out on TikTok (@fictionbutmakeitgay) and I'm so overwhelmed by y'all's support. 💜

xo Ace

Chapter 34

Notes:

CW: discussion of (off-screen) amputation

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

They set up camp in a remote stretch of forest in the Cairngorms. Remus felt the parallel between it and that snowy clearing in Sweden with resentment, the irony resting bitterly on his tongue.

Delirious from the events of that week and desperate for sleep, they made quick work of the campsite. Hermione secured their protective wards and the boys set up the tent. While it was nowhere near as large or kitted out as the tent the Golden Trio had taken on the run with them during their Horcrux hunt, Hermione had done what she could to make it comfortable.

They collapsed into their respective cots and quickly succumbed to sleep.

When Remus finally woke and dragged himself upright, he found Hermione crouched down next to Regulus, who was curled into himself on the floor. His shirt sleeves were pushed up, revealing the angry jet-black mark on the inside of his left forearm. Remus winced, imagining the burning sensation that was said to accompany a summons from Voldemort.

Hermione glanced up at him, concern lining her face.

“I’m going to...” Remus trailed off awkwardly.

“Tea?” Hermione prompted.

“Yes, exactly,” he said with relief, searching for the kettle. By the time he’d fixed three cups of Earl Grey, Regulus had moved from the floor to the edge of one of the cots, Hermione perched next to him. Regulus held out a shaky hand for the teacup, offering a half-hearted smile that came out more like a grimace. Remus wordlessly took a seat on the cot opposite them.

Remus fiddled with his teacup, finally breaking the silence. “Summons?”

“Yeah,” Regulus rasped. “There must have been a meeting today. He will be most displeased by my absence.”

He frowned down at his cup, continuing, “I don’t know what will happen; not responding to his call, it’s unheard of.”

“How much do you know about how the Dark Mark works?” Hermione asked. “Obviously it serves as a rudimentary form of communication, as well as status among his followers, but is there anything else?”

Regulus shook his head grimly. “It’s shrouded in secrecy. But it’s entirely possible that the mark can be used in other ways.”

“Tracking?” Hermione guessed.

“Possibly,” he agreed. “It could lead him straight to us.”

He seemed to steel himself. “That’s why we have to remove it. It’s a weak spot in our defenses that could ruin us if we let it continue to fester on my arm. No it’s—it’s better to sever the link and be assumed dead.”

“I didn’t think the Dark Mark could be removed,” Remus frowned. “What would we have to do?”

“Well,” Regulus said carefully. “We’d have to sever the arm itself, probably at the elbow—”

“No,” Remus squeezed his eyes shut as if to shield himself from the image. “We’re not fucking amputating your arm, Regulus.”

“Surely there’s another way,” Hermione reasoned. “If I had time to research—”

“Well, you don’t have time,” Regulus snapped. He took a deep breath, continuing more levelly, “Listen, concerns for our safety aside, I don’t want this, his mark on my body. What it represents—I should never have let myself be branded. But I did. I can’t take that back. What I can do is make different choices now, like this one—” he glared at them defiantly, “a choice that is mine alone to make.”

Remus scrubbed his face with his hands. “You’re right. I fucking wish you weren’t, but you’re right, it is your choice. And we can’t risk being found.”

Hermione wavered, still caught on the idea of finding a work-around, one less...grisly.

“I want this,” Regulus said stubbornly. “The Dark Mark doesn’t represent the person I want to be.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Hermione conceded. “But okay. Can we wait a few hours? I can strengthen the wards, just in case, but we do need time to prepare.”

Regulus nodded, “We’d better do it magically. It’ll be cleaner, less likely to get infected.”

“Should I—?” Remus blanched, mind reeling at the thought of it.

“I’ll do it,” Hermione drew her shoulders back. “I’m better rested than you are. I can practice the Severing Charm while the two of you get a bit more sleep.”

“That does seem... for the best,” Remus agreed, taking stock of how utterly drained he still felt. “Will we be able to heal it properly though?

Hermione nodded slowly, “Vulnera Sanentur would be best. Cast three times, it should stop the blood flow and knit the wound.”

Remus nodded and scrubbed his face with his hands. “Good idea—” he cut himself off with a yawn. Regulus blinked at him sleepily, his own mouth opening automatically as he caught Remus’s yawn.

“Go back to sleep,” she said, knocking gently into Regulus’s side. “Both of you.”

“Okay,” Regulus sighed. “Thank you.”

 

 

Regulus recovered slowly but steadily, from both the loss of his limb and the continued effects of the Emerald Potion. He frequently felt a burning sensation in the place his Mark used to be and had to remind himself that it was phantom pain. It wasn’t real. The Mark was gone. The Dark Lord couldn't reach him now.

He slept poorly those first few weeks; his dreams turned to nightmares as he continued to fight his way out from the clutches of the Drink of Despair. He suspected that Remus was ensnared in the same sorts of sleepless nights, as the other man’s face grew more haggard with each passing day. Hermione hovered nervously around them both, but rather than irritating he found her presence to be steadying, a source of comfort.

He struggled with balance, the lost limb changing his center of gravity, but he was adjusting quickly. Certain motions and actions had to be re-learned and he did so without complaint. It was worth it to finally be making his own decisions, each day bringing him a step closer to the person he wanted to be, rather than the person he was expected to be.

Regulus had set about making tea for the three of them, levitating a plate of biscuits to the small table Remus and Hermione sat at, while he put the kettle on and selected tea. He fumbled at first with the box of tea, still getting used to his residual arm, but he managed to open the box and pull out three tea bags. He deposited them into teacups and sent them floating towards the table.

Remus fiddled with the hem of his jumper, glancing over at Hermione. She nodded almost imperceptibly, but Regulus made a point to notice what most overlooked.

He brought the kettle over, pouring them each a cup before taking a seat. The only sound in the tent was the click of Hermione’s knitting needles. He took a sip, pretending not to see Remus nudge her under the table.

“Regulus,” Hermione cleared her throat, setting down her yarn and needles as she turned to him. “We were thinking it might be best for you to lie low elsewhere on Monday night. Maybe closer to the village? It’s only that it’s the full moon and—” She trailed off awkwardly, eyes flitting back to Remus.

“And it won’t be safe in these woods,” Remus continued soberly.

“So it is true,” Regulus mused, keeping his face carefully blank even as his mind whirred, rumors, myths, and prejudices tangling together. “You are a werewolf.”

Remus grimaced, “I’m afraid so.”

Regulus turned towards Hermione. “You intend to stay with him?”

“I’m an Animagus,” she explained. “Animal companions soothe the wolf.”

“You’re an Animagus?” Regulus felt his eyebrows shoot up; even he couldn’t hide his surprise at that. Catching himself, he continued, “I’m guessing you’re not registered?”

“No,” she chuckled, “I’m not registered. I completed the transformation while we were still at school, although this will actually be the first time we’ve transformed together outside of our basement. It’ll be nice to stretch our legs.”

She nodded to Regulus. “You’ll still be safest as far away as possible, though. Don’t want to risk it.”

He lifted his hand in surrender. “No arguments here. I have no desire to tangle with Remus.” He smirked in his direction. “Transformed or otherwise.”

Remus barked a laugh. “I am pretty terrifying.”

“I’ve seen you with a wand. Or without one,” he shuddered. “Your level of mastery is rather unreal.”

Remus shrugged. “We’ve been training together for a long time.”

Regulus hummed contemplatively. It was strange, how quickly he’d grown to respect the two of them. Even these new revelations couldn’t shake the admiration he felt for them both.

Remus cleared his throat. “You should join us—if you want. I think Hermione wants to ramp up our training regimen again anyway.”

“You’ve been slacking,” she said drily. Turning to Regulus, she continued, “You’re more than welcome. In fact, I’d really urge you to jump in. We can’t afford to get complacent.”

Regulus agreed, a pleased smile curving his lips. He rather liked being part of this, part of them. Of course, that contentment was a bit harder to hold onto when, the following day, Hermione ran them through a series of outlandish Muggle “exercises” that left him huffing and aching from exertion.

“What did you call these?” he asked. His lungs felt like they were, quite literally, on fire.

“Jump squats,” Remus smirked at him, driving his hips back. “Awful, aren’t they?”

Regulus grit his teeth, determined not to fall behind—especially as he suspected that Hermione was going easy on him, “They are rather, aren’t they?”

Remus laughed, straightening with a little hop as he finished the count. He clapped Regulus on the back, “Just wait until she starts you on Russian twists.”

Regulus blanched. “Do I even want to know?”

“Don’t worry,” Hermione said drily, sweat rolling down her neck as she finished the set. “You’ll find out next time.”

“Defense practice next?” Remus asked.

She nodded and turned to Regulus with a mischievous smile, “You’re going to have jelly legs tomorrow.”

“Why?” he asked, puzzled. “Are we practicing Jelly-Legs Curses?”

Hermione rolled her eyes at Remus, who had snorted loudly at the idea.

“We’re practicing... how to avoid getting hit at all,” she explained, nodding to Remus. “I assume you’ll demonstrate?”

“Sure,” he lifted his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face.

“The goal,” Hermione told Regulus as Remus stalked off to the edge of the clearing, “is to settle your mind and allow your body to react. You hone your reflexes so that you might dodge a curse, rather than block it.”

Regulus frowned. “It’s not... unheard of, but it’s certainly not widely practiced.”

“Exactly. It should give us an edge.”

“Ready?” Remus called to them. He’d stowed his wand and stood patiently across the clearing.

“Anything that won’t actually maim him is fair game,” she murmured to Regulus. “GO!”

Regulus hung back, astonished as Hermione began firing. Bursts of light flew from her wand and yet Remus appeared unconcerned, shifting ever so slightly to avoid being hit, each movement deliberate and impossibly precise.

Hermione glanced back at him expectantly, eyes bright with amusement. Regulus cleared his throat and raised his wand.

With two steady streams of jinxes coming towards him, Remus had to work a little harder; he deigned to actually move his feet, darting from and leaping over each incoming spell. Regulus pushed his own casting, concentrating on both speed and accuracy. He really should have been able to land a hit by now.

At last, Remus did fall, taken down by the Leg-Locker Curse. Regulus and Hermione lowered their wands, just as Remus lost his footing. His bound legs caused him to trip forward, catching himself on his elbows in the dirt. Hermione stifled a giggle as they approached.

“Don’t say a word,” Remus grunted, fumbling for his wand.

“Not bad,” Hermione ignored him with a teasing grin. “But you’ve done better.”

Remus groaned and cast the counter-curse.

Regulus shook his head. “I must say, the fact that you both consider this to be a sub-par performance is rather frightening.”

“Just how we like it,” Hermione smirked as she helped Remus to his feet.

Notes:

Oh lord. Worried about all my fellow Regulus stans coming for me now. 😂 I promise he's been through the worst of it now, though. Only happy endings for our favourite Snake-y boi.

I've been having a really fun time talking to some of my readers on TikTok; you can always drop a comment on ao3 or message me there (@fictionbutmakeitgay) if you have questions about the fic or requests/ideas. I've definitely changed things based on reader feedback. Oh! And I also dropped a video on TikTok with some of the images I took inspiration from in my character creation. So, if you've ever wondered what the characters (including Billie!) look like, you can check it out there.

Have a great rest of your week! I'm going to need a little time for the next chapter, but it is on its way!

xo Ace

Chapter 35

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Time seemed to move at a glacial pace, winter refusing to yield. The trio was able to locate the Gaunt Shack, retrieving and destroying the ring. If Regulus found it odd that they were so knowledgeable about Voldemort’s Horcruxes and family history, he kept it to himself.

They spent the majority of their time training in the clearing or cooped up in the tent, trading ideas and creating contingency plans. When they weren’t absorbed in strategy, boredom crept in.

It had been almost a relief when they discovered a Taboo had gone into effect, bringing a handful of Snatchers to their campsite. They had been careful since then, to only refer to him as You-Know-Who.

Their daily training exercises had paid off; even Regulus’s wand-arm held steady as they clashed with the bounty hunters. While the trio had been caught unawares, they still easily overpowered the Snatchers. Hermione had Obliviated them while he and Regulus stowed the tent.

Their new campsite was effectively the same as the last, far enough away from civilization to hide them from prying eyes. But it did have the distinct advantage of being close enough to a few local villages that Hermione could chance a visit when their supplies ran low, flying to the edge of the forest and approaching by foot.

Remus tapped his foot anxiously as Regulus leaned over the chessboard, deliberating over his next play. Remus was sure it was just a ruse; Regulus probably had his next ten moves planned out already.

“Anytime this century,” he muttered. Regulus’s lips curved into a pleased little smile as his piece slid into position. Remus groaned, seeing Regulus’s rook behead his king.

“How do you always do this,” he muttered with a half-hearted glare.

“I must say, it’s nice actually besting you at something,” Regulus teased, beginning to reset the board. “Another round?”

Remus started as the tent flap opened and Hermione slipped inside.

“Oh thank Merlin,” he exhaled. Regulus had slouched back in disappointment at the interruption, though he soon perked up.

“I see you’re holding down the fort,” Hermione chuckled, unzipping her backpack and pulling out a few bags of groceries. Regulus leapt to his feet, eager to help.

“Fresh cheese,” Regulus gasped reverently. They’d been living on canned foods and ramen, so anything perishable was an absolute treat.

Remus sniffed the air, his mouth beginning to water. “Is that—?”

Hermione grinned, brandishing a paper bag that was soaked in grease.

“Hermione, I have never loved you as much as I do in this moment,” Remus proclaimed, his eyes glued to her hands as she removed several orders of fish and chips. They were wrapped in newspaper and fried to perfection.

“Have you ever had fish and chips, Regulus?” Hermione asked curiously as she set them out on the table. Remus moaned into his first bite. She’d even kept it warm for them.

Regulus shot an incredulous glance at Remus, replying slowly, “Sort of. They served it at Hogwarts on occasion. But I’ve never had it from a Muggle restaurant.”

“Chippy,” Remus mumbled, his eyes closed in bliss. “They’re called chippies, not restaurants.”

“Yes, that would be far too distinguished,” Hermione agreed wryly. She turned to Regulus, “You should go ahead and eat. I’ll finish putting stuff away.”

He hesitated but allowed himself to be pushed back into his chair. Regulus gingerly took a bite of the fried fish and blinked in surprise, clearly enjoying the experience.

“Mind if we have a bit of music?” Hermione asked, hand hovering near the wireless. With their assent, she flicked it on and soft music filled the tent.

“That was ‘A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love’ by Celestina Warbeck. I’m your host, Mortimer Harvey. Next up we have ‘Strange Magic’ by the Electric Light Orchestra.”

“I wish we had any news from home,” Hermione grumbled. Remus hummed sympathetically, remembering Lee Jordan’s Potterwatch. “I feel like we’re blind out here.”

“You know,” Regulus paused between bites, holding a piece of fried fish delicately. “Harvey used to have a little news segment on his show.” He smirked, “Mother hated it. It was too progressive. And that’s disregarding the fact that he mixed wizarding and Muggle music.”

Hermione’s brow furrowed. “I’ve never heard him say anything remotely political or topical. He just introduces the artists and songs.”

“I’m sure he’s been under pressure to ‘appeal to the moderates’” Regulus rolled his eyes. “It’s ridiculous.”

“Probably,” Remus agreed, licking his fingers. “But he’s also likely afraid for himself and his family. Being a public figure like he is, he’d be made an example of.”

“I just want to know what’s going on,” Hermione groused as she joined them at the table. “With this Taboo... I’m worried. I’m really fucking worried.”

“I’m not sure that knowing would make it any better,” Remus said quietly, his heart clenching at the thought of something happening to one of their friends.

“No,” Hermione agreed. “I suppose it wouldn’t. What I really want is to be able to do something now.”

“Snatchers,” Regulus interrupted, straightening in his chair. “That’s the answer.”

“To what exactly?” Remus asked.

“You want to help at a distance,” Regulus explained, steepling his fingers. “Snatchers hunt indiscriminately; it doesn’t matter how remote we are. If we break the Taboo, they can find us. It then follows that we could hunt the hunters.”

“We lure them to us—” Remus said slowly, the idea taking root.

“Once we’ve laid a trap,” Hermione finished. “Regulus, you’re a genius!”

His cheeks flushed with obvious pleasure.

“Well, we aren’t planning to kill them, right?” Remus asked, twisting his hands in his worn jumper. “What exactly do we do with them, after we’ve... detained them?”

“We’d need a way to alert the Aurors—or the Order? I’m assuming the Snatchers are working for You-Know-Who directly. That he hasn’t infiltrated the Ministry.” She shook her head, continuing, “But we really shouldn’t risk contact with the wizarding world.”

“This is going to sound strange,” Regulus cleared his throat. “But what about something like the Dark Mark? It’s cast using Morsmordre, but we might be able to do something similar?”

Hermione nodded enthusiastically. “Perfect. A mark for the resistance we could cast into the sky as we left. That would be pretty hard to ignore, wouldn’t it?”

“The Ministry would hate it,” Remus snorted. “Can you imagine? The damage control they’d have to do.”

Hermione sniffed. “I mean, the Ministry can go to hell for all I care. Honestly.”

“It’s settled then,” Regulus smirked. “A mark to draw attention, and we’ll leave the Snatchers bound there.”

“All we’re missing is a design... and a lot of complicated spellwork,” Remus said.

“Design first,” Hermione grinned, knocking their legs together under the table. “We’ll save the fun for later.”

He shook his head fondly, but didn’t argue.

“Okay, I’ll start,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “A lion. Fierce, brave, and easily recognizable.”

“Absolutely not,” Regulus glared at her. “We’re adults, not children. It’s time we left school houses behind.”

“Oi, Gryffindor doesn’t have a monopoly on lions,” Remus laughed.

He pursed his lips, refusing to budge. Hermione sighed and jumped to the next idea, “Okay, how about a phoenix? It has an obvious connection to the Order.”

Remus wrinkled his nose this time. “Too obvious. Pass. We need something unique, but also clearly in opposition to the Dark Mark.”

“What’s a snake’s natural predator?” Regulus asked, getting up to rifle through his bag for a sketchbook.

“Unless I’m mistaken,” Remus said slowly. “Larger birds, among others.”

“A bird of prey,” Hermione settled on, daring them to disagree. She smirked, “In fact—”

 

 

In the weeks that followed, they began implementing their plan. The three of them had collaborated on spell design, creating an incantation that would shoot their own symbol high into the sky. Their teamwork improved with each fight, although there were still some hiccups.

During their last skirmish, Remus had been sliced open by a dark curse and knocked unconscious. The wound had healed slowly, even with the application of dittany, leaving behind a path of pink scarring that ran from behind his left ear and cut across his cheek.

“Ready?” Regulus murmured, wand at the ready. Remus nodded, settling his mind and releasing the tension from his back. He and Regulus both pulled the ski masks down over their faces, obscuring their features.

Remus spoke the name slowly and deliberately, “Voldemort.”

They didn’t have to wait long. Soon, a group of Snatchers appeared in the clearing, their eyes smudged in black and a red scrap tied to each one’s left arm.

Remus and Regulus fought well together, watching each others’ backs and anticipating one another’s next move with increasing accuracy. 

Hermione, meanwhile, had decided it might be advantageous, and perhaps a bit cathartic, to learn to fight in her Animagus form. Having an adult lion charge you out of nowhere—in Great Britain, no less—was a bit of mind fuck. She leapt from the shadows, her muscles bunching as she swiped an enormous paw across one’s back and slammed the next hunter to the ground.

Between the three of them, the Snatchers were incapacitated in a matter of minutes. Remus and Regulus worked silently, collecting the Snatchers’ wands and conjuring thick ropes to tie them with. Remus bound them to a tree, their backs ringing the trunk.

Satisfied with their work, Regulus raised his wand to the sky. A giant falcon burst forth, flying up to hover among the clouds, a snake torn asunder in its claws.

They caught up with Hermione, who had transformed out of sight, and the three of them Apparated, popping to a series of locations across the Isles before settling at the new campsite they’d scouted.

Remus and Regulus made quick work of the tent as Hermione set the wards, a song and dance they had come to know by heart.

 

 

Remus had been helpless to protest when Hermione had pulled out the bottle of whisky she’d procured on her latest supply run. Well, he’d protested a little; he had volunteered to be their “DD” that night and keep watch, just in case.

But who was he to deny her? Besides, Regulus seemed to be having the time of his life, his shoulders and lips loosening with the alcohol.

“I just don’t understand what you mean by ‘compersion’,” Regulus complained, his legs swinging freely off the side of his cot.

"It’s like—it’s like the polar opposite of jealousy. You get these warm, fuzzy feelings when your partner is with their other person,” Hermione tried to explain, and Remus tuned them out again.

He lay splayed out beside Regulus, looking at the well-worn strip of photos he and Sirius had taken at James and Lily’s wedding. It felt like an eternity had passed since then. He watched as Sirius tugged him forward for another kiss, their lips sliding together sweetly. His heart clenched painfully and he tucked the photo away.

“Regu...Regs...Reggie,” Hermione finally landed on. “I would try to explain it, but I’m too drunk and someone,” she glared pointedly at Remus, “hasn’t even been listening to us!”

“I apologize for nothing,” Remus yawned.

Hermione rolled her eyes, before refocusing her attention on Regulus. She wagged her eyebrows at him, “And how about you? Any secret girlfriends? Boyfriends?”

He flushed and glanced away, “I... haven’t really been with anyone before.” At Hermione’s squawk of indignation, he continued, “It was always assumed that I’d have an arranged marriage.”

“Sure, but an arranged marriage doesn’t mean you have to be completely celibate until then, does it? Especially as a guy.”

“I’ve never really been attracted to anyone,” he admitted softly, his cheeks burning with what Remus suspected might be shame. “I think there’s something wrong with me.”

Hermione blinked at him owlishly. “So you’ve never had a crush?”

“Maybe?”

“Go on,” Remus nodded encouragingly as he sat up. It was time to step in. “Tell us about them.”

“Well, there was a boy I might have fancied? He was a Hufflepuff in my year.” Regulus’s brow furrowed. “But it seems like most people sort of objectify others; they treat their crushes like...I don’t know,” he trailed off awkwardly. “I just find the whole thing uncomfortable.”

“So you don’t like the idea of kissing someone?” Hermione asked, cocking her head. “Or sex?”

Regulus’s flush deepened. “I—I don’t know. I think... with the right person, I would want to. But the acts in and of themselves don’t really appeal to me. I know it’s weird.” He turned away.

“No,” Remus nudged their feet together. “I don’t think it’s weird. You’re probably just somewhere on the asexual spectrum.”

“What does that mean?” Regulus asked, chancing a glance up at him.

“It means,” Remus explained, increasingly thankful that he’d remained sober that night, “that not everyone experiences attraction the same way. Some people don’t want to have sex at all—ever. Other people experience attraction very rarely, or only in certain circumstances.”

“That’s a thing? There are people like me?”

“Very much so,” he affirmed. “I think it’s important to remember that everyone experiences attraction differently. The idea of there being a standard—of a ‘normal’ is pretty shit, honestly.”

Regulus’s eyes flicked towards him again and his lips curved into a grateful smile.

Remus glanced over at Hermione, where she lay on the opposite cot; she was snoring softly, her mouth slack.

“I think it might be time for bed,” he murmured softly.

“Yeah,” Regulus chuckled, continuing quietly. “Thank you. I... I find myself, once again, extraordinarily jealous of my brother. I wish I’d had someone like you when I was in school. You’re—”

“Tosh,” Remus knocked their knees together. “I’m not all that special.” He sighed, seeing Regulus close himself off again. “I’m sorry, I’ve always had a hard time accepting it when people see the good in me. Thank you—really.”

“He’s lucky to have you,” Regulus nodded to where Remus had tucked away the snapshot.

“I don’t know that he thinks that anymore.”

“Then he’s more of a fool than I thought.”

“You don’t mean that.” Remus suspected that while he might not care to admit it, Regulus did respect and care for his brother immensely.

“No, not really.”

They didn’t say anything more, but Remus saw Regulus smile as he turned away.

Notes:

Phew! I know I'm taking a little longer between chapters right now but a lot has happened in the past week.

The biggest news is I now have beta readers! Maddy (TT @iswearimuptonogood) has helped me comb through the entire fic already and we're working together on the rest of the story outline now. I'm really excited for the changes she's helped me make—her feedback has been invaluable in elevating this story!

I also have a few other beta readers working on catching up right now, so I'll be continuing to do revisions as I simultaneously work on future chapters.

My other piece of big news is that I am also writing a super short (7-10k words) LunaxGinny fic that I'm really excited about. We don't have enough wlw fics out there, so I figured I should write down what I envision as their story post-Hogwarts. You can subscribe to me as author on ao3 of follow me on TikTok (@fictionbutmakeitgay) for updates.

Big thank you to all of my long-term readers and new readers for following along with this story and giving me the confidence to write! I really appreciate all the lovely comments this week. 💜

Oh! Last thing is the song referenced this chapter is "Strange Magic" by Electric Light Orchestra. I know some of y'all have been making a playlist as you follow along.

xo Ace

Chapter 36

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Remus awoke with a start, his chest heaving. Cold sweat trickled down the back of his neck as he struggled to sit up, the sheets having wound themselves around his legs.

He tried to push the dreams from his head as he lay on the small cot, the tent pitch black but alive with the sounds of the forest and his friends’ steady breathing. Well, Regulus’s steady breathing, he realized; Hermione’s was as laboured as his own.

He pulled himself out of bed and crouched next to her cot. 

“Everything okay?” Remus murmured. She reached a fumbling hand out, searching for him in the dark. He caught it in his own and pressed a gentle squeeze to it.

“I heard,” she rasped. “I heard—”

“Shh,” he murmured even as his pulse quickened with understanding, familiar dread pooling in his stomach. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not. We need to talk.”

He shook Regulus awake, and the three of them gathered around the small table, bleary-eyed and weary.

Remus ground the palms of his hands into his eyes. His nightmares had been intensifying the longer they hid, his deepest fears and insecurities rearing their ugly heads.

Lily and James’s unseeing eyes staring up at him, their lifeless bodies stretched out on the ground where they had fallen. Peter shaking his head mournfully, “This is your fault, Moony. How could you let this happen?”

Sirius slowly going mad, insanity and grief re-writing his features as he rotted in Azkaban. He cackled, raving about the lover who had cast him aside, just like the rest of his family.

Hermione and Regulus, struck on the battlefield as Remus lay paralyzed nearby, able only to watch as the life left their bodies.

Remus shook his head as if to dispel the dreams and tried to focus on the moment at hand.

“We have to act now,” Hermione was saying, her jaw set. “There’s never going to be a perfect moment or opportunity, and it’s past time that we set things in motion.”

“You’re right. Every day that we delay, how many lives are lost?” Remus leaned forward, reaching out to grasp both of their arms. He squeezed, continuing, “Besides, we’re ready. Hermione’s really whipped us into shape, huh boyo?”

Regulus flushed, stealing a sideways glance at Hermione. She nodded proudly and nudged their feet together. “We can do this,” she affirmed. “We just need to solidify the final pieces of the plan. The Gringotts heist should be smooth, barring unforeseen circumstances.”

“If they let Regulus in, we have the cup,” Remus nodded, eternally grateful that Regulus hadn’t asked too many questions about how they knew so much about Voldemort’s Horcruxes. Remus was sure that he had his own theories, but found asking outright unseemly.

“Which means we need to zero in on our Last Stand,” Hermione said, drumming her fingers on the table. “We can lay a trap, but how do we ensure that he shows up?”

“The wireless,” Regulus leaned forward, his voice rising in excitement. “We should broadcast the battle.”

“Go on,” Hermione arched an eyebrow.

“Okay, so there’s no guarantee You-Know-Who would even answer the call of a duel, unless he felt like he had to save face. If the world was watching...”

“He would feel compelled to go himself, rather than just dispatching his Death Eaters,” Remus concluded. “But who would ‘televise’ it so-to-speak?”

“Mortimer Harvey,” Regulus said, his eyes glinting with self-satisfaction. Counting off with his fingers, he explained, “He’s well-respected in the wizarding world by most families, he has a platform, and he’s sympathetic to the cause.”

“Inspired,” Hermione breathed. “Reggie, that’s bloody brilliant!”

Remus’s heart ached for the Black brothers, seeing how Regulus had flourished with just the little bit of encouragement and affection he’d received these past few months. He soaked up every compliment, nickname, and moment of camaraderie like a sponge.

“The question is...” Remus mused. “How do we find him?”

“Well,” Regulus considered. “Where do they broadcast ‘Harvey Hour’ from? We could start there. Could it be in London?”

“No,” Hermione frowned. “It’s in Tinworth.”

“Is that...” Remus started, his eyes widening slightly in recognition. Bill and Fleur’s home, Shell Cottage, had been in Tinworth.

She nodded, explaining, “Tinworth is a small coastal village in Cornwall. The community is primarily composed of Muggles, but there are a number of wizards who live and work there. I believe they have a magical broadcasting station.”

“Then that’s where we go,” Regulus nodded firmly. “Tinworth.”

 

 

They’d followed him home from the radio station and pressed past him through the narrow entryway. Remus disarmed him in an instant, tucking Harvey’s wand away.

They weren’t exactly off to the best start, but having a conversation at all was rather the point. They couldn’t force him to agree, only to listen. After that, it was up to him.

The older man’s mouth quivered angrily, bushy brows furrowed in consternation as they settled into his drawing-room. But Regulus and Hermione had barreled past his displeasure, eager to present their case.

“A duel?” he glared at them incredulously. “You must be out of your mind. You-Know-Who is the most powerful wizard of our time. Who could possibly stand a chance against him? Even Dumbledore knows he isn’t a match.”

“Me,” said Remus from where he slouched against the doorway, his face a mask of deadly intent. “I’m the best duelist of our generation.”

“You?” he squawked. “No one’s even heard of you, boy!”

“Exactly,” Remus agreed mildly. “I’m a nobody. He doesn’t know how I fight, how quickly I can react—nothing. And when he learns, it’ll be too late. He’ll be dead.”

Harvey shook his head, running a hand through his salt and pepper hair. “It doesn’t matter how talented you think you are, he’s better. You won’t be able to overpower him—”

“I don’t need to overpower him,” Remus shot back. “All I have to do is survive and keep his attention long enough for Regulus and Hermione to lay the real trap.”

“I still don’t like it,” his eyes had softened as they continued to explain their plans. “You’re just kids...”

“We’re all of age. But actual children are dying every day that this war continues,” Regulus countered quietly. “We have to end it. With your help, we’d have a real chance of doing so.”

Harvey grimaced, scratching the back of his neck. “I need to talk to my sister first. Can I meet you in a few days?”

“Of course you can,” Hermione nodded. “You know how to find us.”

 

 

Remus gritted his teeth as Harvey jostled the cot, bumping into its edge. He flung an arm over his eyes and burrowed the back of his head further into the lumpy pillow.

“Merlin’s beard, it's cramped in here,” Harvey grimaced, rubbing his leg wryly.

“Won’t be long now,” Hermione assured him, casting a nervous glance at Remus. The heist was planned for that evening. If all went according to plan, everything would come to a head in just a few days.

“I still don’t understand how you intend to infiltrate Gringotts without alerting You-Know-Who,” Harvey scratched his head, settling onto his own cot.

“Well, for one, it’s not his vault,” Regulus explained. “It’s Bellatrix’s. She’ll likely realize what’s been taken and ensure the break-in remains quiet while she hunts the perpetrator herself. She knows her status in the Dark Lord’s army will plummet if he discovers her failure to adequately protect his Horcrux.”

“And how did you discover—”

Remus groaned loudly, partially because his head was throbbing and partially because Harvey asked far too many questions. Though honestly, the two might be related.

“Maybe let’s move this outside?” Hermione suggested gently. “Remus hasn’t been sleeping well and he needs rest for tonight.”

“Of course!” Mortimer jumped up, glancing over his shoulder guiltily as he and Regulus left the tent.

Hermione slid into bed with Remus, draping an arm across his middle. He relaxed into her gratefully.

“Are you doing okay?” she murmured.

“I’m just ready for this to be over,” he sighed. “All the waiting—I hate it. And we’re so close...”

“I know,” she murmured, squeezing him. “Listen, we might not get another moment alone. I just want to say—”

Remus’s chest constricted, eyes beginning to water. “Hermione,” he pleaded.

“No,” she said firmly. “I need you to know how deeply I care for you. Our friendship... it’s the most meaningful relationship I’ve ever had. And however long I live, whether I have three days or sixty years left, you’re... everything, Remus.”

“Fuck,” he choked, reaching up to wipe tears away. “I love you, too. I—I’ve never told you how grateful I am. Having you here with me in this life, you’re my rock. You’ve made my life impossibly better.”

“Shit, we’ve gone soft,” Hermione joked weakly.

“Best get it out of our systems now,” he agreed, chuckling.

 

 

Regulus and Remus pulled the heist off without breaking a sweat. Well, he might be sweating a bit now, Regulus thought wryly, as they fled Gringotts.

Gaining access to Bellatrix’s vault was practically child’s play. They entered the bank together at dusk, hoods drawn up to cloak their faces in shadow.

Regulus drew his hood away just enough to reveal his face to the bank teller and demanded access to the Black family vault. They verified his wand and papers, and just like that—they were in, granted access to Gringotts’s deep caverns.

Regulus placed the banker assigned as their escort under the Imperius Curse, insides squirming with discomfort. It might be unforgivable, but this was too important. The goblin led them directly to the Lestrange vault, bypassing the Black family’s entirely. With his help, they made quick work of its security measures.

Remus kept his wand on their guide as Regulus withdrew a singular broomstick from his bag. He zoomed through the vault, hunched low on the broom so that he might use both his arm and his residual limb, careful not to let his body touch any of the cursed treasure within as he searched. He found Helga Hufflepuff’s cup balanced preciously at the top of a hoard of gold, recognizable by the badger engraved upon its side.

Regulus gritted his teeth and hovered several feet away. He gripped the broomstick between his thighs, extracting the Muggle oddity from his bag. Hermione had bought the device at a village shop, claiming that the elderly used it to pick things up off the ground without bending over. Its long reach allowed him to catch the cup in its claw, where he continued to hold it as he flew down to Remus.

Regulus dropped the broomstick with a clatter as he landed; his attention was fixed on the cup alone, still held aloft by the trash picker. His arm shook a little, though he tried to steady it and his nerves both.

Remus kept one eye on the guard as he held open the pouch they’d brought with them just for the Horcrux. Regulus dropped it in, shoulders drooping with relief.

“Come on,” Remus muttered, tugging him back towards the trolley. They ascended quickly through the caverns in another harrowing ride, and abandoned the cart and dazed goblin before they re-entered the main hall of the bank.

 

 

They slipped out into Diagon Alley as the goblins cried out behind them, steps quickening as they fled.

“You there!” They heard someone shout. “Stop!”

Remus closed his eyes, fingers wrapped around Regulus’s arm as he tried to Disapparate. It didn't work.

“Shit,” he growled. “They must have cast an Anti-Disapparition Jinx.”

They whirled, branching off to face the two Aurors who had followed them. It happened so quickly, yet Remus felt as if time itself had ground to a halt.

The taller Auror barked orders at his partner, who approached Remus with his wand raised. Remus’s gaze travelled from the wand tip to the Auror’s heart-breakingly familiar face and his blood turned to ice in his veins; it was Sirius.

His mouth went dry as Sirius’s eyes lit in recognition, his gaze tracing Remus’s scarred face. Remus felt his stomach churn with guilt as he took in Sirius’s bloodshot eyes and hollowed cheeks. He’d done this to him; Remus was sure of it. This was his fault.

Sirius’s lips parted as though he wanted to say something, but all he did was lower his wand even as his partner, who Remus assumed must be Sutherland, struggled against Regulus. He could have fought, he could have lashed out at him. But instead he gave Remus an out, and placed his trust in him.

Remus jerked his chin in gratitude and shot a Full Body-Bind Curse at him, rendering Sirius immobile. He couldn’t be responsible for Sirius facing an inquiry at work; he’d done him enough harm already.

And yet he hesitated to turn away, not wanting to leave Sirius behind again—wishing this moment, strange and awful as it was, could stretch on a bit longer.

“We have to go,” Regulus murmured in his ear, Sutherland paralyzed behind him, and Remus snapped back to his senses. They didn’t have time for this.

He tore his eyes away apologetically and summoned Sirius’s bike keys. He towed Regulus along with him as he hurried towards where Sirius used to stow his motorcycle. He exhaled in relief to find it parked in its usual spot near the Ministry.

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” he growled, nudging the kickstand up. Regulus pressed up behind him and clutched his robes nervously. The bike lurched forward as Remus gunned it. When they had picked up enough speed, he kicked the flight pedal, Sirius’s instructions from all those months ago echoing bittersweetly in his mind. Remembering Regulus’s own complicated relationship with Sirius, he tamped down on his guilt and tried to lighten the mood.

“That was Sutherland,” he shouted back at Regulus over the roar of the bike. “He’s a tool!”

“I guess Sirius won’t mind that I panicked and gave him boils.”

“No, that’s perfect,” Remus grinned. “He’ll love that.”

Regulus shook with laughter behind him as they broke through the clouds.

Notes:

Hello everyone!

As my friends on TikTok may have seen, this has been a wild week for me. Where I live, much of the city is without power or water during a historic snowstorm. I was lucky enough to move to a family friend's home two days ago to shelter with her. So I've been keeping warm here. No running water now, but we're doing okay.

There's not much to do but wait right now, so I've been doing some writing. I'm still working on the next chapter for this story but hope to have it out in a week or so. Maddy (@iswearimuptonogood on TT) has continued to help me flesh out the rest of the story. She's been SUCH a huge help in providing feedback on relationships storylines and noting any plot-holes.

I also wanted to mention that my new Luna/Ginny "Everyday Possibilities" is published on ao3. The first chapter went out last weekend, and I intend to post the next one within a day or two.

Oh! LAST last thing: a reader (shoutout to @lawandauror on TT) gave me the idea of publishing a Spotify playlist for this fic. It has all the songs mentioned so far. And there will be more! It's on my Linktree: https://linktr.ee/gayfiction

If you've been impacted by the snowstorms, I hope you've been able to stay safe and warm. Love to you all!

xo Ace | TT @fictionbutmakeitgay

Chapter 37

Notes:

TW for graphic violence & PTSD

If you’re following along with the music in this fic, I’d also recommend pulling up the Spotify playlist in advance. https://linktr.ee/gayfiction

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Hermione snuck another glance at her watch, willing her body to remain unaffected even as her nerves frayed. Would she even come? The small Muggle cafe was how she remembered, small tables spread throughout the inviting space. She and Marlene had come there all the time after boxing class to grab a sandwich or a coffee, though that now seemed a lifetime ago.

Marlene hurried through the door, her coat catching on the handle. She impatiently freed herself and made a beeline for Hermione’s table, sliding breathlessly into the empty chair opposite Hermione. Her heart-shaped face was lined with worry.

“You still know how to make an entrance,” Hermione said drily, sliding a cup of coffee across the small table. “I take it you received my message.”

“Hermione,” Marlene leaned forward, ignoring the coffee altogether. “What the bloody hell is going on? Where have you been?”

“Keep your voice down, Marls,” Hermione muttered, glancing around nervously though no one seemed to be watching them. Marlene glared at her, her round cheeks flushed with displeasure.

“Is Remus with you?” Marlene asked as she lowered her voice grudgingly.

“Yeah,” Hermione glanced away guiltily. “We left at the end of December. But I can't tell you anything more. Don’t ask me again.”

Marlene scrubbed her face, sighing as she dropped her hands. “Are you at least alright?” Her eyes seemed to pierce the shields Hermione had constructed, searching her face for the truth of their disappearance.

“Yeah,” she swallowed, heart constricting at her friend’s concern. “We’re okay.”

Marlene offered her a tentative smile, which Hermione returned nervously.

“I need your help,” she murmured, fidgeting with her coffee cup. “I wouldn’t ask, but...”

“With what?” 

“Breaking into the Prophet,” Hermione grimaced, well-aware of just how mad she must sound.

“Kitten, I could lose my job,” Marlene shifted uncomfortably. “You know I’d do anything for you, but—”

“It’s important,” Hermione pleaded. “It could end the war. We have a real opportunity to put it to rest—to defeat him. But we need access to the Prophet’s printing press.”

She wished she could tell Marlene everything. But with their watchful divine eyes fixed on her and Remus, she didn’t dare. And of course there was the problem of Peter. Had he once again betrayed his chosen family, or had he made a different choice in this reality? There was always a chance.

Marlene drummed her fingers on the table, mind clearly scrambling to make sense of the few data points she had.

“Ack! You’re off your head, but then so am I,” she snorted, a wry smile splitting across her face.

Hermione’s shoulders slumped in relief. “Thank fuck,” she muttered and leaned back in her chair.

They quietly schemed, planning the break-in meticulously. Marlene’s help would be invaluable; Hermione wasn’t sure she could have pulled it off without her.

The two of them descended upon the Daily Prophet’s printing house that very night, hoods drawn up as Marlene let them into the building. Hermione kept watch while her friend printed the insert that they would include in the next day’s paper.

“Are you sure about this, hen?” Marlene asked, clutching a stack of freshly-printed pages to her chest.

Hermione glanced down at the papers; Remus’s scarred face smirked up at her, his wand twirling lazily between his fingers. He challenged Voldemort to a wizarding duel the day of the newspaper’s release and invited all to witness it through Mortimer Harvey’s broadcast.

Harvey’s name carried weight, that was indisputable. Voldemort had to rise to their bait. He couldn’t afford to let some kids make a mockery of him.

With the fear that Voldemort invoked, they hoped it would be enough to deter people from showing up in person to watch and instead tune in via the wireless.

Hermione nodded grimly, “I have faith in Remus—in us. I have to.”

Marlene sent the inserts whizzing through the room, tucking themselves neatly into each issue of the next day’s Daily Prophet.

“Listen, Marls,” Hermione shifted guiltily, ashamed to be asking even more of her friend. “You-Know-Who is unlikely to come alone tomorrow. If you could spread the word among the Order, I’d be grateful. We could use the support.”

“Of course,” Marlene squeezed her arm encouragingly. “I’ll be there, for one, and I’ll talk to the others. I’m sure they’ll want to help. But, Hermione...”

“What?” Hermione asked, her chest tightening with dread.

“There’s a spy in the Order,” Marlene bit her lip. “We don’t know who, but there are rumors it’s Sirius. With his family...” She trailed off awkwardly.

Hermione shook her head, rage crawling under skin at what was almost certainly Peter’s deception. “Sirius would never. Just be careful, okay?”

She tugged Marlene into a bone-crushing hug, murmuring, “Thank you—for everything.” Marlene squeezed back, her fingers curling into Hermione’s cloak.

 

 

The trio stood high above the quidditch pitch, concealed within the VIP box. The large oval field was fully encircled by towering stadium-style seating. They had chosen the Exmoor Quidditch Stadium for their last stand, its pitch unused and perfect for a bystander-free battle. And yet it was a space that many would be familiar with, having hosted the world cup in 1978.

Harvey was in the process of setting up his broadcast station, disillusioned among the bleachers. They hoped the charm would be enough—that he’d be able to broadcast without interference.

Regulus leaned against the rail, short curls whipping in the wind. His once-shuttered face was alight in anticipation, cheeks flushed from the chill. While winter’s snow had melted, spring had been slow to warm.

Hermione knocked their shoulders together, smiling down at him.

“Ready, Reggie?” she asked lightly. “Take down a madman, save the world?”

“All in a day’s work,” he joked before turning his attention to Remus. Regulus arched an eyebrow, seeing him muttering and pacing about, tugging at his overgrown hair. 

“Okay, old man?” Regulus asked, a flicker of concern now reflected in his own voice. Remus stilled and clearly tried to center himself.

“Never better,” Remus finally turned his kind eyes to them and joined them by the edge. He smirked, “Ready to give ‘em hell.”

“That’s the spirit,” Hermione snorted, clapping him on the back. She withdrew a small flask of whisky from her satchel.

“One swig each,” she fixed her eyes sternly upon them even as her mouth turned up at the corners. “For good luck.”

Regulus pulled out his antique pocket watch and checked the time again.

“Should be any minute now,” he murmured, accepting the flask from Remus.

He nearly choked on whisky as Death Eaters began appearing on the field, their cloaks swirling behind them as they landed. He’d expected them to come in force, but seeing how many hooded figures lined the ground—his stomach churned with doubt.

“Just remember what we’ve practiced,” Remus said, drawing his shoulders back. “Let’s make a fucking entrance.”

“We’ll be right behind you,” Hermione squeezed his arm. And just like that, Remus climbed over the edge of the rail and stepped off.

 

 

Regulus and Hermione cast a well-practiced gust of wind that buffeted him from the box all the way to the earth as he spread his arms in flight akin to Icarus. As he hurtled towards the ground, he grit his teeth in anticipation, the cold wind slicing at his skin. He arrested his momentum just before he would have otherwise hit the dirt, casting his own spell to crack the earth open dramatically as he landed.

The ground opened up, a long and narrow fissure forming that snaked its way across the pitch. As the dust settled, Remus emerged with Hermione and Regulus flanking him, his friends having Apparated to his side upon impact.

Mortimer Harvey’s crisp voice cut through the air, booming throughout the pitch as he broadcasted live.

“Wow! What an entrance. Remus Lupin has dropped, quite literally, onto the field. He’s joined by two allies, Hermione Longbottom and Regulus Black. But they are HEAVILY outnumbered!”

The trio descended upon the amassed Death Eaters, their muscles bunched tensely. Where was everyone? Surely, at least some of the Order would have risen up to march into battle with them.

As they engaged the first wave of Death Eaters, sweat rolled off Remus’s neck. They couldn’t do this alone.

“The trio has been joined by a legion of fighters! I can only assume they must belong to the famed Order of the Phoenix.”

They breathed a collective sigh of relief as their friends and allies appeared on the pitch: Marlene, James and Lily, Sirius, Peter, Frank and Alice, Gideon and Fabian, Emmeline, Dorcas, and even Mad-Eye.

Their group was still outnumbered but launched a skilled defense. Remus took the lead as the three of them cut their way through their opponents with practiced ease. The Snatcher hunts and months of training had paid off.

And yet Voldemort was still nowhere to be seen. Holding off his army at all was impressive, but it was meaningless unless he actually engaged Remus.

Remus turned, about to ask which back-up plan to use, when he saw the hulking form of Fenrir Greyback. Clad in filthy rags, the brutish man barreled across the field with sharpened canines bared.

Remus froze, his heart racing as his eyes followed Greyback’s loping stride. He thought he might be sick, his body trembling as waves of nausea crashed over him. With Greyback’s approach, Remus felt as helpless as the day he’d been bitten at the age of four.

Hermione shot in front of Remus; she must have realized that Voldemort had sent him specifically—aware of the trauma Greyback had inflicted upon Remus as a child. She blocked Remus’s line of sight, pressing comforting hands to his arms as Regulus covered them.

“Breathe with me,” she said, voice strong and steady as she counted aloud. “That’s it. Focus on me.”

Remus grounded himself in the feeling of her hands, the features of her face, and the sound of her voice. He might be a monster, too, but he could do this. He could save them all.

Hermione peeked over her shoulder, and Remus followed her eyes to James and Sirius, holding Greyback’s attention with their combined efforts. These were the people he was fighting for. He and Hermione re-joined Regulus in the fray, determination lacing each block and counter-attack.

“We have to enact Plan Dumbass!” Regulus shouted as he held a Sheild Charm, reflecting the incoming curses.

Remus blanched, his heart hammering nervously. It was risky, extraordinarily so, but there was still no sign of Voldemort on the field.

He gritted his teeth and shot sparks up to signal Harvey.

“Oh my! Remus Lupin has requested a song. He informed me that this would only occur if You-Know-Who was too cowardly to show his face, and that he would only stop if he was granted the duel.”

Remus fell back and stowed his wand, trusting Regulus and Hermione to protect him as he undertook a fool’s errand. He stripped off his jacket as the music started, echoing across the pitch. If this didn’t draw Voldemort out, he didn’t know what would.

He tried to forget his stomach, still flip-flopping in agitation when the unassuming instrumental intro kicked in, and he began to dance. But his limbs locked up, muting his movements. He had to pull it together.

Breathing deeply, he pictured James and Sirius: their easy confidence, the swagger, the general idiocy he secretly loved. Character fixed in his mind, he channeled that energy and his body physically responded, allowing him to loosen his hips and shoulders.

The beat kicked in with force, swash-buckling vocals bringing the song to life. Remus adopted a cocky smirk, strutting forward as the beat dropped.

I'm your boogie man that's what I am
I'm here to do whatever I can
Be it early morning, late afternoon
Or at midnight, it's never too soon

Mortimer Harvey’s voice rose above the music, booming across the stadium as he relayed the events to the audience listening at home.

“Remus Lupin is dancing his heart out, folks! I’m honestly shocked that You-Know-Who has allowed this to happen at all. Why is he so afraid to face a boy in single-combat?”

Remus planted his feet as Regulus and Hermione continued to shield him. He rolled his hips, running both hands through his mussed hair.

To want to please you, to want to please you
To want to do it all, all for you
I want to be your, be your rubber ball
I want to be the one ya love most of all, oh yeah

Playing up his overconfidence, Remus withdrew his wand and blocked a stray curse, hitting the break in the music. He then took his drawn wand, holding it close to his lips as he sang into it like a microphone.

I'm your boogie man I'm your boogie man
Turn me on
I'm your boogie man I'm your boogie man
Do what you want

Body thrumming with adrenalin, he stilled as Voldemort appeared on the pitch. Lightning struck around him, electricity crackling in the air.

“He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has arrived on the scene, and let me tell you—he looks madder than a wet hen!”

Voldemort strode forward across the pitch, dark cloak billowing behind him. His scarlet eyes fixed firmly on Remus alone, he began casting with frightening speed and accuracy.

Rather than block each curse, Remus primarily dodged as he ran forward to meet him on the battlefield. His reflexes and years of training kept him alive, allowing him to anticipate the trajectory of every spell.

Hermione and Regulus shielded themselves and followed at a distance, hanging back as they waited for the two wizards to clash in closer proximity.

Remus rooted himself a stone’s throw from Voldemort. Up close, his appearance nearly resembled that of the second war, his pale skin dripping like melted wax, though lacking Nagini’s influence; his features still took their cue from humanity.

Voldemort thin lips curled as they squared off. “The Lupin boy,” he rasped. “A half-breed. You’re not even fit to breathe the same air, mongrel.”

“I think I’m doing alright,” Remus growled, blocking another curse. “You’re not as powerful as you want people to believe, are you? Always sending your cronies to do the dirty work.”

 

 

Close by, Regulus and Hermione fought off a pair of Death Eaters whose faces were obscured by eerie masks and raised hoods.

Hermione startled in surprise as her opponent fell to the ground, ropes tying themselves around their body.

“Thought you could use a hand,” Alice quipped, appearing at their side with Frank just behind her. Her round face was calm under pressure—one of the traits that made her such a formidable Auror—and her short, mousey hair shot up in dogged spikes. Her belly caught Hermione’s eye, expanded as Lily’s was; both women were due in July.

“Alice,” Hermione breathed, feeling simultaneously guilty and relieved to have her there.

“What can we do?” Alice asked as Frank held off another Death Eater. She looked to Hermione like a soldier looking to a general for direction. 

“I need you to cover us,” Hermione explained, straightening her spine and surveying the battlefield. Remus was keeping Voldemort occupied and in position, but more Death Eaters approached. “Regulus and I have to make a lap, but we need protection while we do it.”

“We’ve got you,” Alice nodded curtly, relaying instructions to Frank.

Regulus and Hermione started off slowly, painstakingly setting up wards to prevent Apparition and other interference. No one in, no one out. Regulus glanced over at her to check one last time. She inclined her head, heart beating wildly.

He unleashed the Fiendfyre, concentrating on mirroring the ring of their wards. Sweat rolled off his brow as a pack of fiery chimaeras and serpents flew from his wand, encircling Remus and Voldemort. Wand readied, Hermione sprung the extra barrier that would aid in preventing its spread.

“A sort of ring has appeared around the duel. It’s Fiendfyre! I think Remus Lupin and his friends are intent that this end today, no matter—”

The announcements cut out abruptly as the sound of a scuffle cut through the airwaves. Hermione turned sharply, calling for Marlene and Lily to help Harvey as she directed them towards his position.

 

 

Within the ring of fire, Remus felt his body flagging. He’d held his own thus far, but he still couldn’t hope to defeat Voldemort in a traditional duel. He staggered as Voldemort disarmed him, his wand flying into those skeletal fingers.

Voldemort smugly snapped it in half with a crack. “And you really thought you could match the Dark Lord,” he gloated. “Crucio.

Remus ground his teeth together, trying to prevent the scream that escaped his cracked lips. Voldemort sneered, lifting his writhing body like a puppet on a string. He snapped both of Remus’s legs before sending him crashing back to the ground.

Remus gasped, reeling from the pain. It wasn’t difficult to let himself appear helpless—he certainly felt it, his magical core drained almost completely.

“Please,” he whispered, seeking out the few remaining threads of his magic.

“Not even an ounce of dignity,” Voldemort sniffed. “They always beg.”

He raised his wand, but Remus was faster. With the last of his reserves, he blasted Voldemort into the cursed fire. No wand, no words—just magic bending to his will. He watched grimly as the monster who’d killed nearly everyone he’d ever loved in another life burned alive. The Fiendfyre roared in delight, finally allowed to take a life. High above the pitch, a raven cawed triumphantly, eyes glinting in satisfaction.

Remus reached within for the strength to cast their mark in the air—the signal that it was over, that they might try to extract him. But he couldn’t. He was completely drained, incapable of a single spell.

He let his head fall back onto the trampled earth. How long could they hold the Fiendfyre off? It couldn’t be for much longer. A part of him was almost relieved to see the end in front of him; He’d had a long, hard life. His excruciating transformations, his grief and loss, his years of poverty... These past few years had been a blessing. And if his friends could live, his life would mean something. He’d happily make this sacrifice.

 

 

On the other side of the flames, Hermione shifted nervously. They should have seen the mark by now, a bird of prey flying high above the field clutching the remains of a snake. But it was nowhere to be seen, even after the fire had exploded victoriously.

“Hermione, please,” James begged, and she turned away. He and Sirius were right to worry, but she had to keep them from intervening.

“You have to remove the wards!” Sirius shouted, his voice panicked. “Moony is going to fucking DIE in there. I swear to—”

Sirius kept shouting, but Hermione was too wrapped up in her own fears to comprehend each word. There was a good chance Remus had already succeeded. And if she let him die for nothing... How could she ever live with herself?

“Fine!” she bit out, raising her wand. “I can’t remove the external protections keeping the fire from spreading outwards. But I can make it so that someone can get it there.”

As she whispered the incantations, James shot up into the air on his broomstick.

 

 

Remus faded in and out of consciousness, his mind and body weak from the depletion of his magic. He could vaguely make out a figure landing in the middle of the flames.

“Prongs,” he slurred as his friend crouched beside him. “I’ll always love you—you and Lils and—”

“Shh,” James whispered, scooping him up into his arms. “Save your strength, Moony.”

The world seemed to move in slow-motion as he rose above the pitch and then back down. Different faces flashed above where he lay on the pitch. He latched onto Sirius’s misty eyes, Lily’s freckles, and Hermione’s full lips, but he couldn’t understand a word they were saying. He ignored the fingers that snapped in front of his face and let his head loll back as he slipped into darkness.

Notes:

Oh my god. I’ve been thinking about this chapter for SO long. It feels crazy to actually be publishing it. It’s definitely changed as my understanding of the characters and some of the plotlines morphed. But I am really happy with how it’s turned out.

Don’t worry—I know Remus is in rough shape now, but I did promise y’all a happy ending. And of course, we still have quite a few chapters left.

The song referenced in this chapter is I’m Your Boogie Man by KC & The Sunshine Band. You can find it last on the Spotify playlist, which is on my Linktree. https://linktr.ee/gayfiction

Hope y’all enjoyed Voldemort’s demise! I know everyone’s anxious for our babes to reunite with their loved ones.

I also wanted to thank Sydney for joining the beta reader team! Every time I receive feedback on this fic, it just gets better. 💜

For those of you who are following along, my Luna x Ginny fic, Everyday Possibilities, will wrap up this weekend with the third and final chapter!

And if you follow me on TT (@fictionbutmakeitgay), you also know I've hopped onto Jegulus week with some low-key cosplay efforts. It's one of my favourite ships for marauders AUs! I've got some more cosplays in the works, too.

Have a great week! Let me know what y'all thought.

Xo Ace

Chapter 38

Notes:

TW: PTSD, panic attacks

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Remus woke up slowly, his mind still cloudy with sleep. He rubbed his eyes blearily as raised voices echoed outside the door.

“You have to let me see him!”

He looked around in confusion. The small, unfamiliar room was furnished with a single twin bed and nightstand. Floral wallpaper added a touch of cheer along with an oil painting of a dog galloping across sandy dunes. Heavy curtains were drawn across the window, but he suspected it might be light outside due to the sunshine that peeked through the gaps.

Why was he here? Where was ‘here’?

His stomach plummeted as memories came flooding back. He remembered Fiendfyre, the flames rising all around him and the smell of scorched earth—the certainty that he was about to die. Somehow, he’d lived, but was the same true for his friends? How many of them hadn’t made it off the battlefield? How much more blood dripped from his hands?

Remus lurched to his feet, ignoring the pain that cut bone-deep, and wrenched open the door, stumbling through in a panic.

“Hermione,” he gasped as she barreled into him, her long nightgown billowing out behind her.

“Remus,” she cried out, the sound muffled against his chest. His arms tightened reflexively around her and relief came crashing down on him in a tidal wave.

His blurred gaze found James, who stood hovering behind Hermione. “Who—” he choked out and James understood without him needing to finish the question.

“We’re okay,” he murmured, sliding in to help support Remus, whose knees were incomprehensibly weak. “We lost the Prewetts. Marlene is at St. Mungo’s but doing well. You had it the worst. Sirius, Pete, Lily, we’re all fine. Even Harvey.”

“Regulus?” Remus asked, not ready to relax just yet. “Yeah,” James said slowly. “He’s okay, too. He said he’d come by later. He’s been helping Lily with the more minor injuries at Godric’s Hollow.”

“Okay,” Remus exhaled and leaned heavily into James. He felt like he could sleep a thousand years and it wouldn’t be enough.

“Alright, Moony,” James squeezed. “Let’s get you back to bed.” He hesitated. “I guess there’s room for two?” He added doubtfully, peering down at Hermione.

“Definitely,” Remus yawned, keeping Hermione pressed safely against his heart.

James helped them both into the narrow bed and tucked them beneath the fluffy duvet. He lingered by their bedside, smoothing the hair from Remus’s clammy forehead. His mouth tightened unhappily as his gaze traced Remus’s still-healing scar from the Snatchers, where it puckered angrily along his cheek.

“Of all of us, how’d you turn out to be the barmy one?” He murmured as he eased out of the room, closing the door softly behind him.

 

 

Remus cast off the sheets restlessly, skin sticky with sweat. Hermione grumbled to his left, facedown against the soft pillow. Finding his bearings more quickly this time, he swung out of bed and took a few halting steps to the window. He drew back the drapes and the moon stared back at him, hung low in the night sky.

“And who gave you permission to get out of bed?”

Remus flinched, whipping around at the unfamiliar voice. He relaxed, recognizing Sirius’s cousin and Tonks’s mother. Andromeda’s face was eerily similar to Bellatrix’s with its aristocratic lines and classic beauty, but her eyes told a different story: a lifetime of kindness. Andromeda's thick brown hair, different too from her sister's wild curls, lay braided and coiled neatly on top of her head.

She arched an eyebrow pointedly and he sat back on the bed in resignation. Hermione finally rolled over, hoisting herself up onto her elbows where she blinked dazedly at Andromeda.

“I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced,” Andromeda said, pulling out her wand to cast a quick diagnostic of their bodies. “My name is Andromeda, but you may call me Andy if you like. Everyone else does.”

“Hermione Longbottom,” his friend croaked before clearing her throat.

“Yes,” Andromeda pursed her lips as she considered them both. “And Remus Lupin, of course. There’s not a soul alive that doesn’t know your names now, although Lily mentioned you both during her training. She’s an exceptional Healer.”

She shook her head, continuing, “You’re both very lucky that your friends chose to come to your aid during the duel. If Dumbledore had gotten his way...” Andromeda trailed off, clucking critically. She put her wand away and folded her arms loosely.

“You’ll both be fine. Remus, I’m afraid that you drained your magical core completely during the battle. It’ll likely take weeks for you to fully recover your strength.”

Hermione straightened in alarm, eyes flicking nervously between them, “Are there long-lasting effects? Is there anything we can do for him? What should—”

“I see he’ll be in good hands, at least,” Andromeda said drily. “Really, he just needs rest. You both do. His legs have healed beautifully, but there’s no spell to replenish your magical reserves. Sleep as much as your body asks for. If you’re not feeling yourself in a few weeks, come and see me.”

“Okay,” Remus rasped. “Are we free to go then?”

“Well, it’s not Azkaban,” she said, lips twitching in amusement. “One moment, I’ve got a change of clothes for you.”

She disappeared down the hallway, returning momentarily with a pile of clean clothes.

“Hermione, I do have your clothes still, but they weren’t in the best condition. I thought you might take some of mine instead.” She passed Hermione a bundle of garments that smelled like lavender.

“These are my husband’s,” she nodded to Remus, handing him a jumper and slacks. “He doesn't quite have your height, but they should do the trick.”

“Thank you,” Remus said, clutching the knit jumper to his chest.

“Your friends are downstairs,” she continued. “James and Sirius, that is; there have been others. I’m sure they’re anxious to see you.”

Remus nodded, throat closing up. How could he face them after all this? The lies, the hurt—

Andromeda closed the door behind her, leaving them to get changed. Remus peeled off his t-shirt and unfamiliar pajama bottoms and slid into Ted Tonks’s oversized jumper and too-short slacks.

“Why do you think we’re here, and not St. Mungo’s?” Hermione asked as she wriggled into her trousers. “Everything happened so quickly after James pulled you out. The boys insisted upon taking you to Andy’s and I certainly wasn’t going to let them separate us.”

Remus shrugged, his mouth twisting in distaste. “Well, Andy’s a Senior Healer. I was probably more likely to receive quality care here, than at St. Mungo’s, being on the werewolf registry and all…”

“Oh, Remus,” she murmured, tugging him closer. She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” she mumbled against his sweater.

“Yeah,” he said, heart clenching at the thought of losing her. “You, too.”

She drew back, looking away as she wiped her eyes self-consciously.

“Oh shit,” she whispered, gaze catching on the oil painting. “That’s one of Emmeline’s. See her signature?”

Remus leaned in and chuckled. “So it is. You missed your chance—could have shacked up with a famous artist.”

“Bah,” she laughed, shaking her head. “Emmeline’s fantastic, but we weren’t a good fit.”

Remus smiled half-heartedly and eyed the closed door. His pulse quickened as he imagined the conversation that awaited him downstairs.

“Time to face the music, huh?” she murmured. “Are you ready?”

He shrugged nervously. “I don’t have much choice, do I? It has to happen sooner or later.”

They made their way out of the guest room and descended the narrow stairway with caution, Remus’s heart hammering in his chest. He absently wondered if he pinched his skin enough to hurt, would he wake up to discover it was all a dream?

It seemed real enough, the smell of bacon wafting from the kitchen; the sensation of wool itching against his skin. He blinked and found his friends’ faces staring back at him.

James and Sirius sat together at a small kitchen table, tea set out between them.

“Hey,” Remus croaked, hunching slightly. The shame he felt echoed through his weary bones and jeered at his cowardice. Sirius’s gaze followed him accusingly as he shuffled towards the kitchen, Hermione trailing behind him. She placed a comforting hand on his arm and squeezed gently.

James’s warm eyes flicked between his two friends and he sprang up to clap Remus on the shoulder. “Good to see you upright, Moony! Right, Pads?” He turned to Sirius expectantly.

Sirius fiddled with his mug, haggard face rearranging itself into a strained smile. “Of course,” he said gruffly, but Remus still saw every hurt reflected in his tense shoulders and set mouth. This was his fault.

His eyes darted away guiltily, catching a flicker of movement to his right. A pair of bright, twinkling eyes, framed by seafoam green hair, were fixed on him. Tonks was peering around a corner. Though just a wisp of a child at seven, they had the same pale, heart-shaped face that had once been as familiar to him as his own. 

Remus nearly choked, bile rising in his throat as his two lives seemed to collide. He felt like he might drown in the wreckage, and found himself wondering if this dream, where nearly everyone had lived and he was fine and everything was fine , might just be a nightmare after all. Everything wasn’t fine; he lied to people—he hurt people. That had always been true. He was a monster after all.

Remus tried to move, but his body felt as if it had been encased in a block of ice; cold panic flooded his brain, leaving him frozen where he stood. Hermione must have noticed, for she tightened her grip on his arm.

“Can we—” he started, but his throat was too dry. He coughed and tried again, “Can we not do this right now?”

He felt like crying. Maybe he was crying? He reached up to touch his cheeks, but he didn’t feel any tears.

“I just want to go home,” he whispered miserably.

Sirius’s mouth tightened and he turned to gaze unhappily at the kitchen, leaving James to fumble his way through the emotional minefield that had cropped up between them.

“Of course, mate. I think your flat is still empty. Frank said they never got around to cleaning it out after you...” He trailed off uncomfortably.

“Good... good,” Remus muttered. Why were his palms so sweaty?

“Let’s go, Remus,” Hermione murmured, tugging him towards the door. He followed dazedly, mind and body still reeling with disconnect.

“We’ll be in touch,” she promised in a half-hearted attempt to mollify their friends. James took a hesitant step forward and stopped, while Sirius refused to even look in their direction. It only took a few steps to reach the door, but each one stretched out for eons in Remus’s mind.

Once they’d escaped the house, Remus and Hermione hurried down the narrow streets, finally ducking down a nearby alley.

“Shhh,” she whispered as he crouched down by a rubbish bin. He gasped, trying desperately to fill his lungs.

Hermione bent to his level and placed firm hands on his shoulders.

“Breathe with me, darling. In one, two, three, four, hold—and out one, two, three, four...”

Notes:

Oh boy. I know some of y’all are going to be hurt by this, but it’s going to take some time for Remus and Sirius to heal their relationship, and for Remus to recover from a lifetime of trauma. Just hang in there!

That being said, I am actually very excited to explore PTSD in this story. Huge shout-out to my beta-reader, Mads, for her help in representing it realistically and respectfully.

I'm also excited to have Freya (@minnielupinblack on TT) join the beta-reading team! Big shout out to her for helping me fine-tune this chapter.

I’m trying to maintain a regular posting schedule on Thursdays. You can also subscribe on ao3 or TT (@fictionbutmakeitgay) for updates.

Cheers,
Ace

Chapter 39

Notes:

TW: PTSD, grief

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Their flat was as they’d left it after Christmas, dirty dishes still piled in the sink. Remus absently ran a finger over the countertop, drawing a line in the thick layer of dust.

His heart stilled at the sight of their note, the one that ‘Hermione’ had left their friends to find when they were swept off to Scandinavia. His stomach knotted, faced yet again with the hurt he’d caused. He considered crumpling the paper up and throwing it in the waste bin, but that wouldn’t be enough. Instead, he picked up the note and rummaged through their junk drawer for a lighter. He lit one end and let the flame engulf the paper, dropping it at the last second as heat brushed his fingertips.

“You need to sleep,” Hermione murmured, gently pushing him down the hallway. He fell into his own bed, wonderful in its familiarity even with the musty sheets.

Hermione disappeared into her own room that night, but as the sun rose Remus stumbled across the hall to join her. After months of sleeping in the same cramped room, it felt wrong to sleep so far apart.

Regulus joined them the next day, quietly letting himself into the flat. He nudged off his shoes and padded into the bedroom.

“Are you getting in here or what?” Remus grumbled, pressing a pillow onto his face to block the morning light. Regulus shifted awkwardly by the door, still hesitant to join them until Remus continued a sigh, “It’s only weird if you make it weird.”

Regulus snorted and finally crawled into bed with them.

“You okay?” Hermione asked groggily, shifting over to make room. He settled into the warmth she’d left behind and tucked himself under the covers.

“More or less,” he muttered.

Remus removed the pillow from his face and raised his head, blinking blearily at Regulus. “What happened?”

Regulus hesitated, letting the silence linger. Finally, he said, “You know my father died before we left, before I went missing. Mother—I just found out she passed afterwards.”

“Oh, Reggie,” Hermione murmured. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head stubbornly. “I’m not. She was awful. They both were. Kreacher’s always felt more like family than they did; he certainly had more of a hand in raising me.”

“Still,” Remus said, reaching across Hermione to press a comforting hand to his shoulder. “It’s okay to have complicated feelings about her passing.”

Regulus grunted, lips still pressed together as he closed his eyes. Remus and Hermione let him ignore them and the three of them drifted off to sleep.

They slept intermittently for two more days, taking turns stumbling down to the cafe for sandwiches that they washed down with a little whisky.

On the fourth day, they were bombarded. Remus was puttering about the kitchen, fastidiously wiping down counters and tackling the old mess of dishes. Hermione had tasked herself with stripping the beds and laundering the linens while Regulus took a bath.

Remus was wiping his hands on a questionable towel, his fingers pruning from the hot water, when the door flew open, and he dropped the dish towel in surprise. Sirius burst into the room, a determined set to his jaw.

Sirius burst into the room, a determined set to his jaw.

“Moons,” he said, stalking over to the kitchen. “I know we’re supposed to be leaving you alone but it’s been four days and—”

“Pads,” Remus whispered, fingers curling into the back of Sirius’s T-shirt as he was engulfed in a bone-crushing hug. He relaxed into Sirius, their bodies pressed together as if they were still lovers; like no time had passed, before the lies and secrets had crushed their fragile relationship. He exhaled shakily, reveling in the feeling of being held by him. The physical reassurance felt incredible, especially coming from Sirius.

But Remus drew away abruptly, hearing the door swing open yet again. His hackles rose as James, Lily, and Peter swept into the flat.

“You can’t just come bursting in here, mate,” James panted, jabbing an accusing finger towards Sirius. Hermione emerged from her bedroom and stilled, hovering awkwardly in the hallway.

“Well, they hadn’t come to see us,” Sirius argued, folding his arms across his chest. “I gave it much longer than I wanted to.”

“Are you two okay?” Lily asked, eyes flicking between Remus and Hermione. “If you need anything—”

Remus felt the world fall away, only Peter left in focus. He wore a wrinkled button-down shirt, sleeves rolled down and buttoned tightly at the wrist and Remus knew. He knew and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

He would have screamed but his throat seized up, swallowing the sound whole. Blood boiling in fury, his body thrummed with pent-up tension. A hurricane tore through his emotional landscape; anger at Peter for the first war, disbelief that he could have ever been so blind, and self-loathing in the present for not removing a clear threat. His friends weren’t safe even now, and it was his fault.

With no other option, his bottled-up rage erupted and rained down fury on them all. Bristling at the invasion, he whispered, “Get out.”

Then, louder when it went unheeded, “GET OUT.”

Sirius flinched, stumbling back at the uncharacteristic outburst, while Hermione hurried over to Remus, eyes bright with worry.

“Remus,” Hermione murmured, tugging on his sleeve nervously. “What are you doing?”

“I’m sorry,” he tried to calm himself. His friends didn’t deserve this, even if Peter did. “I just... I need more time. Please.” He wrung his hands uneasily, eyes darting around the room.

Sirius took another step back, hurt etched into every feature. “Um, yeah,” he mumbled as he moved towards the door. “We’ll—we’ll be, y’know. You know where to find us, anyway.”

Hand hovering over the doorknob, he shook his head and whirled back to face Remus. “I just don’t understand, Moony. Why didn’t you tell us? Why did you run off with Regulus?” He spat his brother’s name like it was rotten. “We’re your best mates! I’m your... whatever we are.”

Remus turned away, shaking with guilt and anger and all the truths he couldn’t tell. Instead, he settled on a wound from a lifetime ago, growling, “Because you don’t trust me! Because, at the end of the day, I’m a dark creature!”

Because I’m not who you think I am, he thought bitterly. I’m a liar and a monster.

Hermione stepped between them, catching James’s eye in the background. “Listen, we never meant to hurt you—any of you. I’m so sorry that we did.”

“No,” Sirius said roughly. “Let’s wind it back. I don’t need you butting in, Longbottom; this is between me and—”

“Pads,” James was suddenly by his friend’s side. “They’re tired. They still need to rest. This can wait.”

“We had a plan, and it worked.” Remus spat as he drew his shoulders back, jaw clenched. “We couldn’t risk it. Not for anything or anyone, not even you.”

Sirius’s face shuttered and he shrugged off James’s soothing hands. When Regulus cautiously padded out from the bathroom with his curls still wet, Sirius snapped, storming out of the flat but not before tossing one last accusatory glance at Remus.

“Fuck me,” Remus muttered, roughly threading his hands through his hair.

James glanced back worriedly as he ushered Lily and Peter through the open door. Pausing in the doorway, he said, “Just... let us know if you need anything. Food, company, anything at all. Okay?”

“Okay,” Hermione promised, rubbing Remus’s back comfortingly. He swallowed and looked away. He couldn’t bear James’s kindness at times. He didn’t deserve it.

James lingered, nodding to Regulus. “You, too. You’re always welcome at our home. Lily said you were a big help after the battle.”

Regulus shifted awkwardly. “Alright. Thank you, James.”

With a half-smile, James finally followed the others out of the flat.

“Well, that could have gone better,” Regulus said drily, brushing by them to put the kettle on.

 

 

Even when it felt like the world should have stood still, it kept turning. Slowly, they picked up the pieces of their lives and stitched things back together as best they could.

Over the next few weeks, James doggedly invited the three of them out with mixed results; Remus and Hermione showed up about half of the time and even then, they didn’t always stay long. Whenever Peter was in attendance, Remus invented excuses to bolt. He couldn’t bear to be in the same room as Peter, let alone be expected to make polite conversation.

Peter was nowhere to be seen on this particular evening, but Remus still couldn’t stop himself from mapping escape routes and keeping a watchful eye on everyone in the room from his place on the couch. His gaze roved around the bright space, lingering on the photos of their friends and family that James and Lily had set on the fireplace mantel. He grimaced, seeing his own smiling face at graduation and the wedding.

Sirius sat on the other end of the sofa, though the small space between them felt insurmountable, his foot tapping restlessly. James levitated cups of tea to the coffee table and perched on an armchair angled towards them.

“Lily should be back soon,” he smiled apologetically. “Her shift must be running late.”

“How’s she doing?” Remus asked, trying to focus on the conversation at hand. He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans before picking up his drink. “Last time I saw her, she said the third trimester was kicking her ass.”

“Good,” James replied automatically, though his forehead soon wrinkled as he processed what Remus had said. He tried again. “Actually, she’s fairly miserable. You would not believe the number of foot rubs she’s asked for. Which I’m more than happy to provide!” He added hastily and threw his hands up in defense. “But Merlin, it makes me glad I’m not the one carrying our kid for nine months.”

Remus laughed softly into his tea and even Sirius cracked a smile.

“Guess it’s a good thing you weren’t set on having a big family, Prongs,” Sirius shook his head in amusement. “I just have a feeling that Lily isn’t going to be so keen on the idea after this.”

“He’s got a point,” Remus smirked as he took a sip. “That ship may have sailed.”

James rolled his eyes good-naturedly and leaned back into the soft chair. He caught Regulus’s eye from across the room, smiling almost imperceptibly.

 

 

Regulus stood in the kitchen with Hermione, leaning against the breakfast bar that divided the sitting room and kitchen.

She nudged him teasingly, “Seems like you’ve been spending a lot of time over here. Forget about us already?”

“No,” he snorted, tearing his gaze away from James. “We’re working on a project together.”

“Really?” she asked, picking up another Jammie Dodger. She nibbled on the biscuit, glancing back at their friends in the other room.

“Sort of,” he admitted quietly. “Remus is obviously having a hard time. James and I have been trying to figure out how to make things easier for him—and Sirius.”

“That’s sweet, Reggie,” she murmured, eyes softening. “You’re a good friend and—”

“Hey you lot,” Lily emerged through the hallway, her cheeks flushed and hair pulled into a messy bun. “Leave some of those for me,” she winked at Hermione, shifting the grocery sacks in her arms.

“No, no—stay where you are,” she commanded James as he moved to get up from his seat. “I’m only popping by to set down these groceries. I have got to have a shower.”

“Here, let me take them,” Regulus said, drawing the bags out of her arms. He set them on the counter and began bustling around the spacious kitchen with surprising familiarity.

“Thank you,” Lily said, lips twitching in apparent amusement as she watched him. She snagged a Jammie Dodger, lingering next to Hermione for a moment.

“Everything going okay?” she whispered, pointedly not looking at the trio in the other room, where James was chattering on, coaxing his friends into conversation with unparalleled tenacity.

“About the same,” Hermione shrugged. “Everyone’s on their best behavior, so that’s something.”

They ate their biscuits in silence, both wondering how long this carefully constructed peace could last.

 

 

Remus’s heart pounded in his chest as his eyes followed Peter’s every move. He reached a hand to the back of his neck and found it was slick with sweat.

He had to get out of there. He shot to his feet nervously, eyes searching  for Hermione. She stood at the opposite end of the Potters’ sitting room with Marlene, engrossed in conversation.

“Moony,” James rose to join him, hand hovering near his arm. “Do you want to step outside for a second? You look like you could use some fresh air. I’ll go with you—”

“I just remembered I have something else on tonight,” Remus cut in, body thrumming with energy. He made himself meet James’s eyes. “Sorry Prongs, but I really should go.”

“Are you sure?” James asked, gaze flitting over to where Regulus sat with Lily. She had collapsed back into the couch cushions as they talked, one hand resting on her large belly. Now, Regulus helped her sit further up as they dropped the thread of their conversation and redirected their focus to Remus and James. Tilting his head, he looked from Remus to Peter and back again, a thoughtful expression forming on his face.

“Yep!” Remus said, louder than he meant to. He winced at the volume and the attention it attracted. Everyone else quieted and turned towards him.

Regulus cleared his throat, standing gracefully. He casually set down his drink and mused aloud, “Don’t you find it strange? I’ve never seen Pettigrew with his sleeves rolled up. His arms are always covered.”

Sirius scoffed as he walked back from the kitchen. He eyed Regulus’s amputated arm distastefully. “I don’t think you’re really in a position to accuse anyone of what you seem to be implying.”

Regulus prowled closer to Peter, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “It takes one to know one, brother mine. And I smell a rat.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Peter squeaked, stumbling as he backed away. “I’ve always been loyal—I would never betray my friends!”

Yet when Regulus reached for his left arm, Peter’s eyes widened in alarm and he shifted, teeth elongating and hair sprouting across his rapidly shrinking body. The small grey rat skittered across the floor, desperately seeking an escape route.

In the blink of an eye, Hermione transformed into her Animagus form and slapped a heavy paw on top of him. Her lips pulled back to reveal sharp teeth, and she growled threateningly at the tiny creature she’d captured.

James and Lily leapt into action, wands drawn, working together seamlessly. James forced the rat, squeaking and scuffling, back into human form, and Lily was ready with a Body-Bind Curse, leaving Peter’s eyes staring helplessly ahead as the rest of his body froze.

Gasps echoed throughout the room as Regulus drew up Peter’s sleeve to reveal the hateful mark marring his pale flesh. Remus nearly fainted in relief, his gaze catching Hermione’s as she transformed back. Finally, they all knew the truth.

“You bastard,” Sirius growled, clenching and unclenching his fists. James looked nauseous, unable to look at the man they’d called a friend for so many years.

“Christ almighty,” Marlene fumed. “You were the spy all along, weren’t you? I bet you stoked the fire about Sirius’s family name. I know you spread those lies about Remus and Hermione’s disappearance.”

“I’m going to kill him,” Sirius seethed. “I swear to Merlin, I’m going to fucking kill him.”

“No one’s killing anyone,” Lily cut in firmly, moving to stand in front of Peter. “The Ministry can deal with him. My family has been through enough.”

Sirius looked like he wanted to argue, but deflated when Remus whispered, “Pads, no.”

“I wouldn’t actually,” Sirius muttered, turning away sulkily.

“Regardless, he shouldn’t stay here,” Lily said, glancing back at Peter’s frozen body. “We need to contact the Ministry.”

 

 

They regrouped that night after the shock had worn off and Peter was in custody. James poured them each a generous glass of firewhisky and sat down between Lily and Regulus on the sofa. Regulus shifted over slightly to make room, keeping his body angled towards the two of them, while Lily leaned her head on James’s shoulder, resting a comforting hand on his knee.

Remus swirled his whisky contemplatively, slouched in the adjacent chair with Hermione perched on its arm. She squeezed his shoulder absently.

Sirius and Marlene sat on the floor and stared at their drinks, completely shell shocked. Their worlds had been upended in just a few hours. Marlene shook her head and looked up at Regulus.

Quietly, she asked, “It’s not even been that warm out. How did you really know?”

Regulus pursed his lips and turned a calculating eye towards Remus and Hermione. “Remus has... developed an aversion to him,” he said slowly. “I assume it must be new, considering how close the Marauders have been since first year; thick as thieves.”

“That doesn’t make any sense, though.” Sirius frowned, turning to Remus, “You didn’t know, did you? There’s no way you could have.”

He wanted to tell them everything, but the words wouldn’t come, lodged in his unwilling throat. He studied the drink in his hand miserably.

Regulus shrugged and answered on his behalf, “How did they know about the Horcruxes?”

James straightened beside him. “Who said anything about Horcruxes?” He asked tightly, searching Regulus’s face as if he might find the answer etched across it.

“Voldemort had them,” Regulus admitted quietly. “That’s part of why we disappeared; we had to hunt down and destroy each one.”

“Merlin,” James muttered, turning to explain to Lily how Horcruxes were made. Her grip on his knee tightened and her eyes widened with horror.

Speculatively, Regulus turned his perceptive gaze back towards Remus and Hermione. “They’re under some sort of curse. It prevents them from revealing much. It’s clear to me that Remus was aware of Peter’s treachery, but unable to warn us.”

“It’s the only explanation that makes sense,” Sirius nodded slowly, surprised to be in agreement with his brother. “Moony never would have kept this from us if he had a choice.”

“Of course he wouldn’t,” James agreed stoutly and Lily and Marlene murmured in agreement.

Tears pricked at Remus’s eyes and he looked away, heart constricting painfully at the unwavering support of his friends.

Notes:

Finally! Peter has been revealed. I know many of y’all have been waiting for this.

I wanted to thank everyone who commented on last week’s chapter! I had been a bit nervous how it would be received, as it established that PTSD and trauma would be themes in the last portion of this story. Things will be a bit heavy at times, but I promise lots of fluff and love as well.

I’m continuing to work on the final chapters of this fic each week, and I’m also excited to be in the process of another round of revisions for the story overall. My incredible beta reader, Freya, has been going through the beginning chapters with a fine-tooth comb. I’m truly in awe.

As always, please drop a comment if you’re enjoying this story. I do read them (and usually respond!) and I find them incredibly motivating as a writer.

Have a great week!

Xo Ace

Chapter 40

Notes:

TW: PTSD

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Hermione knocked softly on his door before pushing it open, the door swinging creakily on its hinges. She crawled onto his mattress, jostling him in the process though he kept his breathing even and body still.

“Remus,” she murmured. When he didn’t respond, she tried again but a little louder. “Remus. It’s time to get up.”

She shook her head when he still didn’t so much as twitch, and clambered off the bed. She drew back the curtains, flooding his room with the afternoon sun.

He groaned and flung an arm over his eyes. “Hermione, why?”

“You’ve slept for like sixteen hours. It’s time to get up.”

“I wasn’t asleep the whole time,” he complained, but grudgingly extracted himself from the duvet. “My mind just wouldn’t settle. I can’t fucking sleep when I want to anymore.”

“I know, babe.” she softened, gaze landing on his dark-rimmed eyes. “But there’s someone here to see you. And I think it’s time you two talked.”

He paused in the middle of shrugging on a T-shirt.

“You can’t mean—”

“I do,” she said firmly, tossing him a clean pair of jeans. “He’s anxious to see you, too. You’re on even footing at least.”

Privately, Remus disagreed. They were not on even footing at all; there was still so much that Sirius didn’t know, couldn’t know. But he continued getting dressed and slipped into the bathroom to splash water on his face before he padded into the living room.

Sirius stood by the large windows where Remus had once kept his collection of houseplants. He was chewing on his nails nervously, looking out onto the quiet street below.

“Hey,” Remus said, sticking his hands into the deep pockets of his ratty jeans. He shifted awkwardly where he stood. What did you say to the man you’d loved and left, lied to and pushed away?

“Moony,” Sirius turned towards him, a smile flickering on his handsome face. They stared at each other for a long moment until Remus broke, eyes darting away.

“I was thinking maybe we could take a walk together?” Sirius asked as he rubbed the back of his neck. “If you want to, that is.”

“Sure, we could do that,” Remus said, swallowing apprehensively. He looked around for his worn boots before slipping them on and drawing the laces tight, each step an excuse to delay this conversation a little longer.

They took a meandering route to a nearby park that brought them past old haunts: the Anchor, various charity shops, and even Bang. The whole time, Sirius kept a respectful distance between them that felt achingly cavernous.

“Should be any day now,” Sirius remarked, hopping back onto the curb to avoid a puddle. “James’s been in a tizzy all week.”

“What?” Remus blinked, grasping blindly for the thread of conversation that had been offered. Oh. “Oh, Lily. Yeah, so I would imagine. When is she due?”

“Friday,” Sirius smiled softly. Then he winked, drawing his mischievous smirk back on like a suit of armor. Slyly, he confided, “Lily’s made me promise to distract James if he gets too overbearing. I have three elaborate schemes cooked up, just in case.”

“I’m sure you’ll have cause to use at least one of them,” Remus cracked a smile, shaking his head ruefully. “He’s a worrier.”

Finally, they reached the small park. A number of benches lined the pathway, shaded by a network of branches overhead from the carefully planted trees.

Remus followed Sirius to an unassuming wooden bench, tentatively taking a seat next to him. If he relaxed his legs apart, their knees might touch. Just a sliver of contact, a whisper of comfort. He reprimanded himself and angled his body away from Sirius. They didn’t do that anymore.

Sirius started to sling his arm out across the back of the bench but caught himself, instead curling his hands in his lap, the Potter signet ring glinting in the sun. The silence between them stretched on, birdsong and strangers’ chatter filling the void.

“I’m sorry,” Sirius whispered, ducking his head. “I know things have been... rough since the war ended. And I haven’t made it any easier on you.” He glanced back up at Remus through lowered lashes.

Remus studiously avoided making eye contact, but he tried to meet Sirius halfway, shifting slightly towards him. “I—I’m sorry, too, Pads. I never meant to disappear like I did. Or to be such a dick to you and the others. Especially you. You didn’t deserve it. You don’t deserve it.”

Sirius chewed on his bottom lip, shoulders loosening just a bit. “Prongs and Lily think we’re all a little fucked up now. Trauma, y’know. But maybe especially you and me.”

"Yeah... I reckon they’re right,” Remus sighed, finally letting his leg brush against Sirius, who leaned into the pressure gratefully. Remus let his eyes flutter shut for a moment. He could almost pretend that the past six months hadn’t happened as the world narrowed to just the two of them.

Sirius reached out hesitantly, twining their fingers together. Remus squeezed, letting their joined hands rest between them on his knee.

A smile bloomed on Sirius’s face, eyes crinkling happily. He turned further towards Remus, tipping his chin up like a plant reaching for the sun.

“Can I—?” He asked softly, intent etched into his parted lips.

Remus’s breath hitched and he shifted uncomfortably, untangling their fingers. “Pads, I—I can’t.”

Sirius blinked owlishly, visibly tensing before forcing himself to relax. “Hey. Hey.

Remus squeezed his eyes shut as guilt and self-loathing engulfed him, his mind spinning with things that would never come to pass, not in this reality, and things that already had. When he opened his eyes, Sirius was kneeling before him, peering up at him worriedly.

“Moons,” he said gently. “It’s alright. Just talk to me, please.”

Remus took a shaky breath. He had to explain. Sirius deserved so much he couldn’t give him. But he could at least try and make him understand.

“I just—there are so many things I still can’t tell you. Any of you. How can we be together when I can’t even be honest with you? It won’t work. It didn’t work.”

Sirius hummed, taking Remus’s hands in his and squeezed gently. “Listen,” he murmured, “I don’t need to know everything. I trust you. I trust you with my life, with James’s life. And I’m sorry that I ever doubted you, that I didn’t see what my brother did: that you were cursed.”

Remus blinked back tears, chest compressing uncomfortably. He wanted nothing more than to claw his way back into Sirius’s arms and hide there, wrapped up in his blind faith and love. But he could never do that to Sirius, not really. It was just a fantasy.

“That being said,” Sirius continued carefully. “I don’t need us to be lovers in order to love you and want to be in your life and for you to be in mine. You’re so important to me, Moons.” He stroked his thumbs along the tops of Remus’s hands. Remus inhaled shakily, gazing up at the treetops.

“Look at me,” Sirius murmured and waited for Remus to meet his eyes, set with determination. “If we need to roll things back temporarily or even permanently, that’s okay. I just want you to promise me that you’ll tell me when you need something. If you want to talk. If you need me to fuck off for a while and leave you alone. I just want to do right by you, as—as someone who loves you. Okay?”

Remus sniffled, insides knotting in pain and pleasure, “Okay.”

“Promise?”

Remus nodded and his lips curved up into a feeble smile.

“Can I give you a hug?” Sirius asked, waggling his eyebrows to cut the tension as he continued, “Strictly platonic, between mates? Heterosexual vibes only.”

Laughter bubbled up Remus’s throat, escaping with a hoarse chuckle.

“Get up here,” he laughed, tugging Sirius towards him. Sirius released their hands and tilted up to wrap his arms around Remus, who buried his face in the crook of Sirius’s neck. “You’re ridiculous,” Remus mumbled into his skin.

“You find me completely charming, don’t lie,” Sirius growled playfully, his voice rumbling through their joined bodies.

“I do,” Remus murmured, arms tightening around him. “Merlin help me, I do.”

“So, friends?’ Sirius asked, drawing back. Remus released him reluctantly, fingers tracing Sirius’s arms as they separated.

“Friends,” he agreed, relief and regret coursing through his veins in tandem. This was for the best.

 

 

Remus and Hermione shuffled into the Potters’ home, already bursting with activity. James strode over to them, face alight with happiness despite the bags under his eyes.

He clapped them both on the back, voice low but brimming with excitement, “They’re taking a nap together right now, but should be down in about half an hour.”

“Alright,” Remus smiled. “I can’t wait to meet Harry. How’s Lily holding up?”

“Dead tired,” James said, glancing fondly over his shoulder towards the open kitchen. “Reg has been a godsend. I think he’s single-handedly responsible for keeping us fed and at least somewhat well-rested while we look after Haz.”

“Well, someone had to do it,” Regulus retorted as he worked quietly in the kitchen. He poured the steaming kettle over an assortment of teacups, the string of a tea bag hanging loosely over each one’s rim. “And it was the least I could do.”

“Still,” James grinned, pulling Remus and Hermione into the sitting room. “We appreciate it. As it turns out, parenting is a full-time job by itself.”

Sirius looked up from his spot on the floor, his eyebrows bunching together in frustration. Spread out in front of him were an assortment of leaflets and dog-eared parenting books.

“What on earth,” Hermione giggled, crouching down next to him. She picked up a book and idly flipped through its pages. “Sirius, what are you doing?”

“Looks like he’s cramming for an exam,” Remus teased, curling up onto the couch behind him.

“I wasn’t trained for this,” Sirius muttered, holding up a diagram that he examined suspiciously. “Nobody told me.”

James guffawed, slumping next to Remus on the sofa. “Nobody told me, he says. I told you, Pads! Me!” After a moment’s consideration, he added magnanimously, “I’ll show you the ropes next time Haz needs a change, okay?”

“Oh thank Merlin,” Sirius exhaled in relief, quickly abandoning his research to join them on the sofa. He leaned against the arm of the couch, burrowing his feet underneath James’s legs. Sirius begrudgingly accepted the teacup that Regulus sent floating in his direction as he slipped into the room.

“Ta, mate,” Remus said, lifting his own teacup to his lips. Regulus inclined his head serenely, settling into an armchair with his legs tucked underneath him.

“I have some news,” James announced with barely contained anticipation.

“What’s that, James?” Hermione asked as she continued to examine some of the books Sirius had left behind.

“I’ve quit the department. Just put in my notice. So when Lily’s maternity leave ends, I’ll stay home with Haz while she returns to St. Mungo’s.”

“You’re going to be a stay-at-home dad?” Hermione asked, her teacup clattering as she rushed to set it down. “James, that’s so exciting!”

“Yeah,” he grinned, running a hand through his thick hair. “Honestly, being an Auror was sort of shit, anyway. And I don’t want to miss a thing with Haz.” He smiled apologetically at Regulus. “I’ll get the hang of it soon enough, let you get back to whatever you do when you’re not taking care of us.”

“I actually don’t have much else going on,” Regulus said casually as he sipped his tea. “I think I’d rather like to keep helping with Harry. If you don’t mind, that is.”

Squeezed next to him on the couch, Remus felt rather than saw James’s quick inhalation.

“Oi!” Sirius griped from the other end of the sofa, tearing James’s gaze away from Regulus. “I’ll remind you that I am Harry’s godfather, not you. Don’t you dare try and swoop in and take my place, baby brother.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, about to snap back with a retort when James shushed him with a weary chuckle.

“I think there’s more than enough work to go around. Reg, anytime you want to take over our kitchen or watch Haz while we nap, you’re more than welcome. That goes for you, too, Pads.” He nudged Remus and nodded at Hermione. “And don’t think for a moment that you’re exempt either. Anytime you want to babysit, he’s all yours.”

Regulus’s pale cheeks flushed with pleasure at the invitation and he seemed to sit up even straighter.

“Trying to foist our son off already?” Lily teased, padding into the room with Harry tucked carefully against her chest. She smiled sleepily, still coming out of her nap. She was dressed in plain sweats and an outrageous pair of fuzzy slippers that Remus remembered Sirius buying her for Christmas.

“Not at all,” James grinned as he jumped off the couch to take Harry from her. “Hey, little one,” he murmured as Harry turned his head into James’s chest.

Sirius stretched out his legs into the space James had been occupying, tucking his toes under Remus’s thigh instead. Remus tentatively placed a hand on his calf and squeezed gently.

 

 

While Lily adjourned to the kitchen in hunt of the sandwiches Marlene had dropped off earlier in the day, James brought Harry over to Remus and then Hermione.

“Say hello, Haz,” James said softly as Hermione stood up to meet him. “This is your Auntie H.”

“Hi Harry,” she whispered, reaching out to catch his tiny fingers. “It’s very nice to finally meet you.”

“Here, why don’t you hold him?” James suggested, shifting Harry in his arms. She looked up in alarm and shook her head.

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly—”

“Sure you can,” James said cheerfully. “Here, you just need to support his head and neck with one hand and cradle his body with your other arm.”

“Wow,” she breathed, resting his small body against her chest. He blinked, his green eyes as vivid as she remembered against his warm almond skin. Wispy, dark hair covered his head, though she knew it would one day resemble his father’s loose, unruly curls.

“Pretty amazing, huh?” James beamed as he rocked back onto his heels. “Our Haz.”

“Yeah,” she murmured as a tide of conflicting emotions washed over her. She would never see Harry or Ron again as she had once known them; the relationship they’d once shared would never come to pass. But that was okay; Harry and all the other kids she’d grown up with in another life would know a better, safer world. They could be children, not soldiers. She blinked back tears, turning to Remus. He nodded gently, his warm eyes meeting hers in understanding. If anyone noticed the quiet moment they shared, they were kind enough not to mention it.

 

 

That night as Remus and Hermione curled up on their own sofa at home, warm cups of cocoa clasped in their hands, she took another step towards acceptance. She could never go ‘back’, only forward in the life she now knew.

“Remus,” she started, studying the floor where moonbeams gathered. “I—”

She stumbled as she searched for the right words.

“What is it?” He asked, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. She leaned gratefully into his reassuring presence.

“I just miss her, you know?” she bit out miserably. “I know I fucked up and she wouldn’t want to see me, but I still miss her.”

“Billie?” he ventured. When she nodded, he continued, “I think she would want to know. That you’re okay, and the real reason you ended things.”

“But I couldn’t even tell her that,” Hermione argued.

“Maybe not the whole story,” he conceded. “But enough. You should tell her about magic, if nothing else. The war.”

Hermione took a sip of cocoa to avoid saying anything just yet, the rich chocolate swirling on her tongue.

“She loved you, you know,” Remus said softly. “Even if it’s just for closure, I think you need to reconnect.”

She sighed and leaned against Remus’s side, mug still cradled in her hands.

Notes:

Hello everyone!

I know Remus and Sirius are still hurting, but they are on a path towards healing. I think it’s really important to prioritize healing and growth, rather than jumping immediately back into a romantic relationship. And Remus in particular has a lot of healing and processing of trauma left to do!

I’m currently working on the last few chapters of this story as well as revising everything starting from chapter one. My incredible beta reader, Freya, has been helping me go through each chapter with a fine-tooth comb. If anyone decides to reread this fic after its been completed, you’ll definitely find some extra scenes in there as well.

As always, your support and comments mean so much to me! I get such an endorphin rush whenever AO3 emails me to say that someone left a comment or kudos.

Have a great week! I’ll be back next Thursday.

Ace

Chapter 41

Notes:

TW: Brief mention of racism, genocide, and slavery

Music will feature a bit more heavily in this chapter, so I’d recommend pulling the Spotify playlist up in advance if you’re listening as you read. You can find it here: https://linktr.ee/gayfiction

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Hermione wiped her clammy hands on her trousers, shifting uncomfortably in the kitchen chair. Billie and Elliot’s flat was largely the same as she remembered: cluttered but inviting with each piece of art and mismatched bowl telling the story of their relationship. Hermione had always felt so at ease there, wrapped up in Billie and the warmth of her love. But that feeling was long gone, stamped out when she’d cut Billie from her life the year before. Still, she was grateful that Billie had let her come in when she appeared on their doorstep that morning.

Billie placed a cup of tea down in front of Hermione and took a seat across the small table. Her pinched, closed face felt so unfamiliar, even if her other features remained the same: inky locs, pierced nose, and clever fingers.

“Thank you,” Hermione murmured and picked up her cup. Her heart stumbled as she took a sip. Billie had prepared it just how she liked it, Cream Earl Grey with a pinch of safflower. She shakily set down her cup.

Billie sighed, leaning back in her chair. “Why are you here, Hermione?”

“Billie, I—” Hermione swallowed nervously but forced herself to keep going. She straightened in her chair with resolve. “I need to set the record straight. And apologize to you. Because I lied when I broke things off last summer.” Billie frowned, mouth tightening unhappily, but didn’t stop her from continuing.

“There wasn’t anybody else. I didn’t leave you for another partner, one who wasn’t polyamorous.”

“So why did you let me believe that’s what happened?” Billie asked quietly. “That you only kept me around until somebody else came along?” Hermione’s stomach twisted with guilt and her eyes darted away.

“That was never my intention,” she murmured, forcing herself to look back at Billie. “To make you feel like you weren’t enough. I’m sorry. I needed an excuse to leave, and that was what I landed on. Like a cad.”

“You were my first foray into poly, you know,” Billie confided, hands clasped around her mug. “Elliot had seen other people before, dated other people. But I hadn’t, not seriously. And then you came along!” She exhaled a short, shaky laugh. “So gorgeous, independent, and utterly brilliant. Shy at first until you got your bearings, then unapologetically self-assured. I fell. Hard.

“I felt the same way about you,” Hermione said, the words rushing out of her mouth. “I always have, from the day I met you. You set an impossibly high standard.”

“Then why the hell did you walk away?” Billie bit out accusingly. Hermione tried to calm her racing heart and took the plunge.

“Billie, I know this is going to sound crazy,” she said. “But I’m a witch. I can do magic. The boarding school I attended wasn’t an ordinary institution; it was a place of learning for witches and wizards specifically.”

“You’re right,” Billie’s brows flew up her face. “That does sound crazy.”

“I could show you,” Hermione offered, fumbling under her jacket for her wand. When Billie shrugged skeptically, she pulled it out with unsteady fingers. She’d never had to come out to a Muggle before. She stood up and reached into the cabinet for an empty glass, murmuring, “Aguamenti.” A steady stream of water poured from her wand tip, filling the glass.

Billie frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. “Okay so your stick is hollow and you filled it with water before you came over. That’s not exactly convincing.”

Hermione sighed, racking her brain for a spell that could clearly demonstrate magic without overwhelming Billie.

“Okay,” she said, nodding at a box of crackers. “Throw those in the air for me, would you? You can feel them first; I haven’t touched the box. And I’ll stay over here.” Billie slowly turned the box over in her hands, feeling its edges. She tossed it in the air and Hermione quickly cast arresto momentum to slow its descent. The box floated to the ground and landed gently. Billie tore her gaze from it, staring at Hermione in astonishment.

“Did that really—” she asked, motioning helplessly at the box.

“Yep,” Hermione said, popping her lips on the ‘p’ for emphasis. Billie’s mouth opened and closed as if words escaped her.

“I can show you more?” Hermione offered, twisting her hands around her wand. “This is the tip of the iceberg, really.”

“No, I believe you,” Billie said with a startled laugh and she leaned forward across the table. “So do you ride around on a broomstick, then? Is that why you never take the Tube?”

“No,” Hermione giggled in relief. “Well, that’s not totally true. Technically, I can ride a broomstick. But I don’t really like it. Mostly I Apparate which is essentially teleportation. But that’s not always practical in Muggle London. I’ll have you know I do take the Tube sometimes!”

“Hmm,” Billie hummed skeptically. “What about a cat familiar? Fairy tale or real life?”

“Well, it’s complicated,” Hermione started, but stopped when Billie laughed.

“Everything’s complicated with you, isn’t it, witch girl?”

“Sorry,” Hermione blushed. “I know it’s a lot to take in.”

“It is,” Billie agreed and tapped her finger on the table. “So, to recap: you can do magic. I have a feeling it would take weeks to actually understand what that entails. What I want to know is how that relates to us and why you left?”

Hermione sat back down across from her. “I can’t tell you everything, but there was a war. Let me think about how best to explain it…” After a pause, she nodded and continued, “So, the magical and non-magical, or ‘Muggle’ as we say, worlds exist together. There are obvious differences, but also some of the parallels you might expect. Just like how in the Muggle world, those with power and privilege wage war, enslave others, commit genocide, and uphold racist instituions to maintain the status quo, the wizarding world has its own ongoing history of ‘blood supremacy’ and oppression. Whether or not you come from a magical family determines how ‘pure’ your blood is. The war I mentioned was only the most recent embodiment of a culture that discriminates based on that.”

“Jesus,” Billie grimaced. “It always comes down to blood, doesn’t it? Well, that’s fucking depressing.”

Hermione nodded soberly, “Yeah. It was hard enough growing up. Then to find out that magic was real and that there was a whole other world that ran parallel to ours... It was devastating to realize that it wasn’t a safe place and that racism and discrimination were just as pervasive.”

“Is it sad that I’m not surprised?” Billie asked, reaching out to squeeze her arm gently. Hermione ducked her head, blinking back tears. She hadn’t realized how much she needed this.

“So the war...” Billie prompted, releasing her arm. Hermione nodded, glancing back up at her.

“I was terrified that you or Elliot would get hurt if I stayed with you. Blood supremacists murdered so many people, including the families and partners of anyone who opposed them.”

“I wish you’d talked to me,” Billie frowned. “I should have had a say in that, too.”

“I’m sorry. It was selfish of me to keep it from you and to lie about what was happening and who I was.” When Billie didn’t answer, she continued, “The war ended earlier this year. Remus and I were there... He hasn’t been doing well since, otherwise I might have come to see you sooner.”

“Is that why he has the scars?”

“No,” Hermione hesitated, continuing, “The scars are mostly unrelated. But that’s not my story to tell. Not without asking him first.”

“Okay. So what else aren’t you telling me? What else can you tell me?”

Hermione shrugged, considering. She sighed. “I suppose you’ll find out sooner or later if you let me see you again. Remus and I were both instrumental in ending the war. We’re sort of famous now?”

“Famous?” Billie chuckled wryly and shook her head. “Why am I not surprised? I always knew you two were something special.”

Hermione blushed, eyes flitting to Billie, “So where does this leave us? I know it’s incredibly unrealistic to hope that we might pick things back up, but I can’t help it.”

Billie let the silence between them unfold as she took another sip of tea. Finally, she said, “Hermione, I think you’re aces. I really do. But I don’t know how to trust you to stay with me. We’ve always sort of orbited each other, coming together for the most intense, but beautiful bursts of time. But that’s not the type of relationship I want anymore. I need something solid.”

“I can do solid,” Hermione said quickly, but Billie raised a gentle hand to stop her.

“I’m also overloaded at uni this semester, and I can’t afford the distraction.” Hermione swallowed back her disappointment and she nodded miserably. Billie continued, “That said, what if we tried to set aside some time together every week? Just a coffee or meal together to start, and regroup after the autumn semester ends? I think it would really help me understand that you’re serious about developing a closer connection. And who knows, you might change your mind about me.”

“Trust me, I won’t,” Hermione murmured, squeezing her mug in lieu of Billie’s hand. “But starting slow and checking in a few months from now sounds good to me.”

“Good,” Billie exhaled. Her lips curved into a subtle smile. “It is good to see your face, you know. I’m glad you came.”

“Me too,” Hermione said. Even if they didn’t rekindle a romantic connection, she wanted this time together. And in the weeks that followed, Hermione found that taking it slow might be what she needed as well: a chance to get to know each other all over again.

 

 

The pub near Sirius’s flat had sticky floors and slow service, but it wasn’t too crowded and boasted a rare treasure: a jukebox.

The boys gathered around it, pouring through the song catalogue. James had spent the past ten minutes trying to explain to Regulus how jukeboxes worked, with some bemused corrections from Remus, while Sirius hovered impatiently.

Hermione smirked at Lily, seated beside her at their abandoned table, “How long until they draw blood, do you think?”

“Won’t be long now,” Lily joked as she picked up another chip, dripping with grease.

They watched in amusement as Sirius complained loudly about their last song selection, pushing his way in to flip through the cards. Soon, Queen’s iconic riff filled the pub.

Steve walks warily down the street
With his brim pulled way down low
Ain't no sound but the sound of his feet
Machine guns ready to go

Sirius and James immediately began dancing in the small space between the jukebox and tables, loose hips swinging freely, while Remus and Regulus looked on in amusement.

“How are they so cute?” Hermione sighed as she propped her chin up with one hand, elbow resting on the tabletop.

“A combination of genetics and pure idiocy,” Lily sighed even as her eyes danced in merriment. “But seriously, it’s nice to see them all together. Almost normal, you know?”

“Yeah,” Hermione smiled softly, heart warming as she saw Remus lean in to conspire with Regulus. He nodded slyly towards the jukebox, nudging Regulus with a devilish gleam in his eyes.

Are you ready? Hey, are you ready for this?
Are you hanging on the edge of your seat?
Out of the doorway the bullets rip
To the sound of the beat yeah
Another one bites the dust

Regulus slid over in front of the jukebox, working the switches with tentative fingers. Remus leaned over his shoulder, nodding in approval.

When the music changed, James’s face lit in recognition and Sirius cackled and slapped his brother on the back. Even just the instrumentation was sexy. Regulus flushed cherry red and glared accusingly at Remus.

My friends
Feel it's their appointed duty
They keep tryin' to tell me
All you want to do is use me
Ah-huh, but my answer (Ah-huh)
Yeah to all that use me stuff

James tried to draw Regulus out to the makeshift dance floor, demonstrating some of his signature moves. His reluctant dance partner scoffed but allowed himself to be spun around. A hesitant smile spread across Regulus’s pale face. Sirius ignored them and focused his attention on luring Remus out of his shell. But Remus just laughed, keeping himself pressed against the wall.

Hermione leaned against Lily’s shoulder contentedly. It was relieving to see Remus start to have more good moments like this one as they put the war behind them.

Yes, I wanna spread the news
That if it feels this good gettin' used
Oh, you just keep on usin' me
Until you use me up
Until you use me up

When the song faded out, the boys stumbled back to their shared table and plopped down. James pressed a sloppy kiss to Lily’s mouth, taking the seat next to her.

“Alright, love?” He asked before draining his glass.

“Brilliant, actually,” she sighed, leaning her head against his shoulder. “I love Harry, and I love being around him. But I needed tonight.”

“Yeah,” he said, reaching to twine their fingers together on the table. “I’m glad Marls was willing to watch him for us.”

Lily hummed in agreement, picking her head back up reluctantly. She fumbled with her empty water glass, eyes flitting to Hermione. “I think I’m going to go grab another round. Want to help me?”

“Yeah, sure,” Hermione grinned, scooting her chair back. Sirius’s grumblings about the Auror Office since James quit faded into the background as they made their way to the bar.

Hermione leaned her back against the weathered bartop, scuffed and worn from years of use, while Lily leaned over it in search of the bartender. Without their boys monopolizing the jukebox, another patron managed to slip in and choose a song. The sweet melody of “Make It With You” by Bread washed over them.

Lily successfully ordered a round for their table, but didn’t pick up the tray the bartender had set in front of her. Hermione waited patiently, keeping her face relaxed and open.

“I was wondering,” Lily said too casually, continuing to linger by the bar, “how you and Billie navigated your relationship?” She cleared her throat, continuing, “And Elliot of course. I just mean—”

Hermione blinked in surprise, venturing, “You mean with us being polyamorous?”

“Yeah,” Lily nodded and unwittingly her gaze turned towards their table. Hermione followed her eyes, catching James’s dopey expression as Regulus smiled at him. She choked back a startled laugh. They weren’t exactly subtle in their infatuation. Shaking her head, she tried to focus on Lily’s question.

“Well,” Hermione said slowly, considering. “I rather liked it. It sort of took the pressure off; we didn’t have to be each other’s ‘everything’ and I found that rather freeing. But I’m not exactly an expert and, if I’m reading things correctly and we’re talking about what I think we’re talking about, I was more in Regulus’s position.”

“Pretty sure we’re on the same page,” Lily drawled as Regulus glanced away from James shyly.

“I could ask Billie if she’d be open to grabbing a coffee with you at some point,” Hermione offered. “She obviously knows a lot more than I do about opening up a relationship.”

“That sounds good. Thank you. I just—I want him to have all the happiness in the world,” she murmured. “I’m not a particularly jealous person by nature, and James... His heart is so big. I think he’d have room for us both.”

“Merlin, Lils,” Hermione nudged her with a slight laugh to diffuse the emotions she felt bubbling up in her chest. “You’re pretty wonderful, you know that?”

“I know,” Lily smirked, picking up the tray of drinks. “But so is James. And Reg for that matter.”

Hermione hummed, in complete agreement, as she and Lily made their way back to the table and their little family.

 

 

Remus watched in amusement as Regulus bustled about in their kitchen, throwing together an elaborate meal of roasted vegetables and poached salmon with practiced ease. He frequently arrived at their flat unannounced with takeout or with plans to commandeer their kitchen, arms full of groceries.

“To think,” Remus teased, leaning back against the couch’s soft cushions and setting aside his copy of Myths of the Norsemen , “there was a time when you didn’t even know how to make pasta.”

“Of course I knew how!” Regulus blustered, opening the oven to check on the asparagus. After a weighty pause, he admitted, “Okay, you’re right. I was hopeless. But I’ve learned!”

“You certainly have,” Hermione praised as she swept past the kitchen, pausing to inhale appreciatively. She sunk into the couch next to Remus, tucking herself against his side. After a pause, she asked pointedly, “So what else is new?”

Regulus didn’t take the bait, instead latching onto his work on Grimmauld Place. “Well, I’ve finally torn out Mother’s portrait. She screamed bloody murder until the bitter end. But she’s gone.”

“Didn’t you say there was a Permanent Sticking Charm on her, though?” Hermione asked, surprised. They’d never been able to remove her portrait in the original timeline.

Regulus shrugged. “House-elf magic can reach beyond what we can do. Once I convinced Kreacher to take it down, she was done for.”

“...Huh.”

“Speaking of Kreacher,” Regulus said casually, pulling out the sheet pan with his right hand while he bent to close the oven with his residual limb. He set down the pan and levitated three mismatched plates in a neat row in front of him, filling each with a generous helping. “I freed him over the summer. I don’t think I ever got around to telling you.”

“You did?” Hermione’s brows flew higher on her forehead. “I’m… pleasantly surprised. Last time we spoke, you didn’t seem so keen on the idea.”

“Well, you’ve made a lot of good points over the past year. And James and Lily did, too, when I spoke with them about it.” He sent their plates floating gently towards them and followed with his own. He kneeled on the floor opposite them. Quietly, he continued, “It was difficult for me to admit that I was complicit in harming Kreacher and other house-elves. Or that they were being harmed at all. But I understand now how wrong I was. I can’t change my family’s history or my own, but I can make different choices moving forward.”

“What did Kreacher think?” Remus asked, glancing up from his plate. “Sirius always resented his loyalty to your family and their politics.”

Regulus bristled, clearly about to bite out a condemnation of his brother’s treatment of Kreacher, but he calmed himself and instead answered Remus’s question. “Kreacher was hesitant at first; it’s a big change. But he understood it was indicative of his place in my family.”

“And what exactly does ‘freedom’ mean for Kreacher?” Hermione asked. “Will he stay at Grimmauld Place?”

“For now,” Regulus agreed. “It’s been his home for so long. But with the reparations and new wages, he could live elsewhere.”

 

 

Hermione frowned as she thought through the implications of Kreacher’s newfound freedom, “Does he see other people besides you? I imagine it must be lonely there when you’re away.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I think so, too. But Kreacher’s been spending more time with other house elves—he talks about his friend Dobby constantly.”

“Dobby,” Hermione murmured in surprise, her heart leaping at the mention of her old friend.

“The Malfoy’s house-elf,” Regulus clarified. Hermione nodded, insides twisted with quiet rage and guilt. She hadn’t thought of Dobby in so long.

They ate in silence for a moment, before Regulus confided, “Kreacher has been rather excited about clothing, since I gave him one of my vests, shrunk down. He asked for my help selecting some additional garments.”

“That’s… good,” Hermione said slowly. “Are you planning to do anything beyond freeing him? For other house-elves I mean?”

Regulus considered, brows pulled together in a frown. “What did you have in mind? I do have some political power, but I’m not sure I would know where to start.”

“You two should team up,” Remus mumbled, swallowing the rest of his salmon. He set down his plate and continued more clearly, “Both of your names carry a lot of weight right now. You should work together.”

“So does yours,” Hermione reminded him.

He waved her off dismissively, “I’m just a half-breed. It always comes back to that. But you’re both war heroes and from old families.”

Hermione pursed her lips, reluctant to have this fight again.

“I need to get a job,” Remus groaned, letting his head fall back against the couch. “I’ve been putting it off ever since we got back. I’d almost rather survive on ramen than put myself back into the cycle. Nobody likes a face like mine, and they like monthly sick leave even less.”

“Remus, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that,” Regulus said as he set his own plate down. “Sirius didn’t want the responsibilities of managing the family estate. He turned full control of the finances over to me. And having run the numbers, we could easily provide you with a regular stipend.”

“Reg, no,” Remus protested. “I couldn’t possibly ask that of you. It’s sweet of you to offer, but—”

“Remus, I apologize if this wounds your pride, but I’ve been listening to both of you rant about capitalism and the absurdity of having to ‘earn’ the right to live for far too long. If you thought I wasn’t processing and sitting with that, you were entirely incorrect.”

“Yes, but that was in reference to society as a whole,” Remus replied weakly. “I don’t want to be in the position of taking handouts from friends forever.”

“Even when your friends are from powerful families with generations of consolidated wealth?” Regulus asked incredulously.

“Well when you put it that way,” Remus muttered, shifting awkwardly in his seat. Hermione listened with rapt attention, impressed by Regulus’s approach.

“Exactly,” Regulus steepled his hands. “It’s a simple matter of wealth redistribution. And if you’re more comfortable with a lump sum for now, that would also work. I just want to take the stress of money off your plate. There are so many ways to bring value to this world outside of a job or career.”

Remus shook his head mutely. Hermione could only imagine what he was thinking, but she was sure it wasn’t good.

“Remus, please let me do this. I want to. I know you would do the same for me if our positions were reversed.” He sighed, soldiering on, “And besides, this doesn’t have to be ‘forever’—you’re brilliant, and even if a traditional job doesn’t work out, I could envision you starting a business or working for yourself in some fashion. I just want your next step to be an active choice, rather than a scramble for any sort of work.”

Remus nodded slowly as he processed Regulus’s offer. It was generous, yes, but also well thought out and expertly argued.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but okay,” Remus sighed, speaking over his insecurities.

“Excellent. I’ve already had my solicitor draw up the paperwork. You’ll just need to accompany me to their office to sign.”

“Alright,” Remus said, a smile playing on his lips. “Thank you, Reg.”

Regulus shrugged as if it was nothing and picked up their plates, carrying them to the kitchen. Remus and Hermione followed, determined to help clean up. As they washed the dishes, put away leftovers, and scrubbed the counters, Hermione guided the conversation back to her original query.

“So, I hear that you and James might be something of an item.” Remus dropped the plate he was in the middle of drying, saved by a quick charm from Hermione.

“What?” he choked, eyes darting between Regulus and Hermione. Regulus’s cheeks flooded with colour as he glared at Hermione. “Bloody hell,” Remus exclaimed. “Are you—are you and James?”

“We’re still figuring things out,” Regulus admitted. “It’s all above board; Lily has been very supportive. She says she’s happy to share his affections, bountiful as they are.”

“Holy shit,” Remus breathed, reeling from the revelation. “All those times he was looking at you and you were looking at him… I never thought—” He blinked. “So James isn’t straight?”

“Apparently not,” Regulus shrugged.

“Okay, okay,” Remus muttered. Hermione rolled her eyes and pulled Regulus into a quick hug.

“Congratulations, love,” she said, squeezing firmly before releasing him. “I’m excited for you.”

“Thanks,” he said shyly, ducking his head. “It’s… nice. I like being with him.”

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it, but do you still think you’re ace-spec?” she asked. She elbowed Remus beside them and he snapped to attention, appearing to let go of his initial surprise.

“Yeah,” Regulus said. “I’m still not sure exactly what I want in terms of physical stuff, but I’m really enjoying the sense of closeness I feel with James. And Lily, too, although it’s different.”

“Well, you’ve got all the time in the world to figure things out,” Remus smiled reassuringly. “And you can always talk to us, if you want an outside perspective.”

“Thank you,” Regulus said, swaying uncertainly. Huffing a laugh, he continued, “I know we’ve only really known each other for a short time, but I consider you both family. I wouldn’t be here at all, and I certainly wouldn’t be me, if not for you.”

“Reggie,” Hermione murmured, chest constricting painfully in response to both his vulnerability and the truth he spoke. In a different lifetime, he had died in 1979, drowned in a jet black lake with no one to hear his cries. She wiped her eyes, continuing, “We’re the lucky ones.”

Notes:

Hi folks,

I hope my Jegulus shippers are excited! I’ve been planning this romance for months now, so I’m overjoyed to finally have it appear in the story.

That being said, there’s been a lot of really good discourse on Harry Potter TikTok this year about Regulus’s character arc and if it’s possible to redeem him without him dying. I want to acknowledge that conversation. Obviously I’ve written Regulus as switching allegiances fairly shortly after joining the Death Eaters and my story diverges from canon pretty extremely, but I don’t want to gloss over his actions or complicity. The same goes for house-elves and slavery; I do want to address it in the story. If anything reads as ‘squicky’ or problematic, please let me know. I am always open to feedback.

I’m 99% sure that my next writing project is going to be a shorter fic that follows James and Regulus’s relationship more closely, and would have more opportunity there to delve more into his past and motivations in addition to exploring polyamory, his developing identity and desires, their budding family unit, and Kreacher’s story. Let me know if this is something y’all would be excited about reading, and if you have any ideas/requests!

These are the songs that were included in this chapter:
Another One Bites the Dust by Queen
Use Me by Bill Withers
Make It With You by Bread

You can also find them on my linktree: https://linktr.ee/gayfiction

Special shout-out to my IRL friends who have popped into different chapters to provide feedback: Sarah, Samantha and Adeolu. It’s been such a joy to share my writing with you.

I do have another big update for y’all: as of last week, I’m doing some major overhaul of the fic. Adding in extra scenes, fleshing out characters, and making sure everything is at the highest writing level I can manage. As I do that, I’m working on the outlines for the last chapters (the total # will likely be 47 in all... probably), but I’m going to slow down my release rate for a bit. The next update will come two weeks from now (April 8), to give myself a chance to catch up. Thanks as always for your support!

Let me know what you thought of this chapter! Or the spin-off fic concept!

Have a great week!
Xo Ace | TT @fictionbutmakeitgay

Chapter 42

Notes:

This is a heavy chapter! If you’re concerned about any of the trigger warnings below and wish to know more before reading, please leave a comment and I will do my best to answer your questions.

TW: ptsd, trauma, suicidal ideation (implied), physical and emotional abuse (past)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

His fingers felt leaden and sticky with dread as he reached to remove his belt, fumbling with the buckle. Remus grit his teeth and ignored the shiver that swept across his bare chest. The cold, stale air of the basement was dragging him across time, insistent upon revisiting another memory he wished would stay buried and forgotten. He squeezed his eyes shut but that only made the memory more vivid. Betrayed by his senses, he swore he could taste blood on his tongue, from where he had chewed through his bottom lip so long ago.

Remus snapped his eyes open angrily and shucked off his trousers and pants, hurling them towards the wall. His breath came in laboured gasps as he knelt down. The concrete was cool and unyielding against the soles of his feet. He stared blankly at his arms, scars adorned with the hopeful flowers Elliot had put there. It felt ridiculous now, to think that he could reimagine his cursed body and soul.

“Are you alright down there?” Hermione's voice floated down as she hovered near the top of the stairs. He didn’t answer.

“I’m coming down,” she decided, footsteps echoing softly as she padded downstairs. He vaguely registered her picking up a wool blanket, but still jolted when she draped it around his shoulders. “There,” she murmured, tucking its edges around him. “A bit better, yeah?”

“How much longer?” he croaked, hunching his shoulders. He couldn’t say that the waiting was worse than the transformation itself, but it still wasn’t easy.

“Last I checked, about twenty minutes until moonrise.”

He grunted and tried to keep himself steady. Hermione pressed a comforting hand to his back, rubbing small circles as she crouched down next to him.

“Are you sure you don’t want Sirius to come over? He’s on standby—all you have to do is say the word and he’ll be here.”

“No,” he whimpered, bile rising up in his throat at the idea. He ground his palms into his eyes as if he could simply scrub away the flashes of snapping jaws and a blood-streaked snout that had overwhelmed his mind since the final battle. “Fuck,” he swore weakly. Maybe he could tell her. Maybe she would understand. “Hermione, Sirius... his Animagus form... ever since the battle, since seeing him again… when he growls or bares his teeth or even just looks at me, it feels like Greyback is there instead. And I’m seeing him with a child’s eyes. My eyes.”

“Oh, Remus,” she murmured and pressed her side to his. “I’m so sorry.”

“I just want it to end,” he whispered, distantly registering the wetness that soaked his cheeks. “Every time I transform, it’s like I’m back in my parent’s cellar. Alone and terrified and wondering what I did to deserve this unending nightmare.”

“You didn’t do a damn thing,” she said with a fierceness that still surprised him. She softened her voice and ventured, “We could take you to the forest next time?”

He shook his head. “I’m just so tired leading up to the full moon. I don’t know that I could even make it there and back.” He choked out a laugh, gazing up at the dank ceiling unhappily. “I should be thrilled... To be alive. To have accomplished what we did. But I’m not. Sometimes all I can think about is how I have to do this again and again... every month for the rest of my life.”

“Remus, have you thought about talking to someone?” she asked cautiously. “What you’ve experienced in this lifetime, not to mention the extra memories you’re carrying with you from before, it’s more than one person should ever have to bear.”

“I’m talking to you, aren’t I?” he said gruffly.

“You know what I mean,” she nudged him gently. “Therapy.”

“Last I heard therapy was only something Muggles had. And how exactly would that work? Hello, I’m a werewolf. I turn into a big scary monster on the full moon and could tear you in half,” he laughed, the sound bitter and harsh. “They’d ship me off to a mental institution.”

“You may be right,” she conceded. “But what if I asked Billie about it? She might be able to help. She certainly knows more than I do about trauma. She might have some suggestions we could at least try.”

Remus turned her words over in his mind, stomach knotting with unease. Did he want to face this head on? No, no he did not. But the longer he let this fester, the more troubled Hermione became. He knew that it wasn’t easy on her either. Finally, he agreed. “Alright. If you think it would help, you can talk to Billie.”

Her shoulders sagged in relief. “Thank you, Remus.”

He turned towards her with half a smile, but his expression quickly morphed into terror as his bones began to lengthen. Hermione scrambled back and slid easily into her Animagus form. Through large amber eyes, she watched as the moon tore Remus’s body apart and pieced him back together.

The wool blanket lay pooled on the concrete slab, forgotten as hair sprouted across every inch of his exposed skin. He tried to hold it back, but a scream tore from his lungs as his bones broke and remade themselves in the image of a monster. In that moment, he felt as helpless as he had at the tender age of four. Soon, his human consciousness faded as the wolf seized control.

 

 

“I’m not totally sure where we should start,” Elliot said, long, tattooed fingers curled around a paper coffee cup. Remus nodded and took a sip of the drink Elliot had handed him when he arrived at their flat that morning. When Hermione and Billie had talked, she’d suggested that Elliot might be able to offer some advice, as he had more personal experience with recovering from childhood trauma.

“Billie’s explained a bit about magic and the wizarding world,” he went on, dragging a hand through his dark hair. “But you may have to fill in a few gaps when they’re relevant. I still don’t know very much, really.”

“Sure,” Remus offered a tentative smile. “I can do that.”

“Do you want to tell me a little bit about what’s been going on? I heard you’ve been struggling since the...war ended.”

Remus shifted uncomfortably in his seat next to Elliot on the sofa. He cleared his throat and began, “Yeah. I’ve had some panic attacks and a lot of trouble sleeping.” He laughed shortly, “Merlin, it sounds so stupid when I say that out loud.”

“Not to me,” Elliot said firmly, fixing his deep-set eyes on Remus. “Is there anything else?”

“Um, yeah. The scars I have...” he trailed off. When Elliot nodded encouragingly, he continued, “I was bitten by a werewolf when I was four. Since then, I’ve transformed with the full moon every lunar cycle. Most of the scars you see are self-inflicted.”

“Wow,” Elliot exhaled. “Remus, that must have been so traumatic... to have that happen to you as a child.”

“Yeah,” Remus laughed shortly. “It was. I try not to think about it, but I can’t control it at night. The dreams have come and gone over the years, but I remember that night with excruciating clarity.”

“That’s pretty normal,” Elliot nodded. “Most people who experience that sort of early trauma either lose that memory for a time or they remember everything vividly.” Remus hummed quietly, but didn’t pick the thread of conversation back up. Elliot continued, “So what’s it like being a werewolf?”

“Um... well, during the full moon you lose control entirely. You can’t remember who you are—you’d kill your best friend or your partner in a heartbeat. And yet you remember everything afterwards.”

“It sounds like you might have personal experience with that part?” Elliot asked softly. Remus blinked, a tide of shame washing over him.

“I almost killed someone once,” he admitted. “A friend thought it’d be funny to have me scare a boy we went to school with. Luckily, someone else intervened before I had a chance to hurt him.”

“Christ,” Elliot shook his head. “That by itself is enough to fuck you up.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Remus said wryly.

“Maybe you’ll tell me someday,” Elliot took another sip. In that moment, Remus felt words flood to the front of his mind. He didn’t have to tell Elliot anything, but suddenly he wanted to.

“The moment that you transform, that’s the worst for me,” he confided in a rush. “I can’t stop thinking about it before a full moon, and it fills me with this dread that I can’t shake. Having your body fracture into pieces and reform itself into a new shape, it feels like dying and being reborn in a breath.”

When Elliot didn’t stop him or draw back in horror or try to comfort him, Remus continued, emboldened. “I’ve lived with this curse for so long already, and I’ve dealt with it. I’ve had to. But now that the rest of my life is stretching out in front of me, no war, no missions, no school—I don’t see how I can keep going. If this is my life, what’s the bloody point?”

“Sometimes acknowledging and processing the trauma we’ve experienced is enough,” Elliot said. When Remus scoffed, he went on calmly, “From what you’ve described, I believe you have PTSD. It’s what I have.”

“I’ve heard of PTSD,” Remus said, twisting his hands nervously as his cup lay discarded on the end table. “But I thought that it was mostly something that veterans experienced when they came home?”

“Well, from what I understand, that’s not entirely outside of your experience.” Remus grimaced and glanced away. Elliot continued, “But setting that aside, you experienced repeated trauma over many years and during a formative time in your life. PTSD is quite common among people with childhood trauma, like us.” He paused before asking, “Do you want to know anything about my history? It can be helpful to hear about others’ trauma, but it can also be triggering if you’re not prepared.”

“Yeah,” Remus nodded. “I think maybe not in too much detail, but I would like for you to tell me. If that’s okay with you.” Elliot smiled softly and set down his own cup. He tucked his legs underneath him and began.

“I was physically and emotionally abused as a child. My mum hit me, screamed at me for years after my dad left us. Luckily, I went to live with my grandparents when I turned eleven. But a lot of the trauma from my early childhood remained buried in my subconscious until much later. Touch and emotional intimacy were both very difficult for me.”

Remus nodded soberly. “Are they still difficult?”

“At times,” Elliot said. “I’ve done a lot of work to reframe my internal narrative and process what happened to me. But recovery isn’t linear.”

Remus leaned back into the soft cushions of the sofa. A wave of exhaustion fell over him, draped like a heavy blanket.

“Enough for one day?” Elliot asked. When Remus nodded wearily, he reached down and rummaged through his satchel. He withdrew a plain, leatherbound notebook.

“Here. This is for you.” He handed the book to Remus. Its covers were soft to the touch with a simple raised border that ran along the edges. Carefully, Remus unfolded the book and flipped to a random page. It was blank. “We can talk more about recovery next time. In the meantime, I thought you could try journaling.”

“What should I write?” Remus murmured, glancing up from the book.

“Anything you’d like,” Elliot shrugged. “Putting things down on paper can bring a certain clarity. Just be honest with yourself and give voice to what you’re feeling in the moment. I can give you some prompts and further direction next time if you like.”

“Okay. Thank you, Elliot,” Remus sighed. “I really do appreciate you going out of your way to help me.”

“I’m happy to,” Elliot reassured him, pressing a gentle squeeze to his shoulder. “I’ve missed you and Hermione. I’m glad you’re back.”

“Yeah,” Remus agreed, a small smile playing on his lips. Maybe there was hope for him yet.

 

 

In the weeks that followed, Remus and Elliot continued to meet over coffee. Talking to Elliot felt like being wrapped up in a heavy comforter, his presence safe and warm. The leather book he’d given Remus was now filled with page after page of unfiltered stream of conscious thoughts. After he’d gotten more comfortable writing and talking about his emotions, Elliot introduced meditation as another tool.

Whenever Remus felt negative thoughts bubbling up, he focused on observing and acknowledging them, rather than getting lost in the memories they invoked. Whenever he thought about Greyback or his early transformations, Remus reminded himself that it was okay to think about them, even natural.

He breathed deeply, trying to loosen his knotted shoulders. When Remus had told him how Sirius’s Animagus form triggered memories of Greyback, Elliot had suggested trying to work through his responses with Sirius. That appeared to be easier said than done.

“Are you okay?” Sirius whispered, pressing their legs together. On Remus’s other side, Hermione squeezed his hand reassuringly. Squashed between his two friends on the sofa in his living room, Remus couldn’t have felt any more secure. But it was still difficult.

“Yeah,” Remus finally nodded. “Let’s try again.” Sirius searched his eyes to be sure, before he transformed back into the shaggy black dog. He circled awkwardly on the couch, settling back down with his snout tucked onto Remus’s thigh.

Tentatively, Remus reached out to tangle his fingers through Padfoot’s thick fur. It felt coarse against his hand. This was fine. He was safe. It was just Sirius.

“Okay, go ahead,” he murmured. Slowly, Padfoot lifted his head and turned to stare up at Remus, curling his lips back to reveal his canines. Panic rose high and tight in Remus’s chest, but he breathed through it and grounded himself in the world around him: the smell of the curry Regulus had cooked earlier in the day, the feeling of Hermione pressed up against his side, and the sight of Padfoot’s wagging tail.

Remus patted Padfoot lightly and the dog allowed his lips to relax back down, covering his teeth. Padfoot butted his leg apologetically, rolling over on the sofa to expose his soft belly. Melting at the sight, Remus scratched his fur and chuckled at Sirius’s clear enjoyment of the attention. Still, a weariness soon overtook him, sinking into his bones.

“I think that’s enough for today,” Remus sighed, reluctantly drawing his hand back. Sirius shifted back into his human form and met Remus’s gaze, his grey eyes laced with concern.

“I’m okay,” Remus assured him, reaching out to lace their fingers together. “Just tired.”

Sirius hummed in understanding. “Do you want me to head out now? Or would you rather I stayed?”

Remus shrugged, fighting off a yawn. “Whatever you like. I’m probably going to doze off for a bit.”

“I’ll stay,” Sirius said resolutely, squeezing his hand. “Do you want to lie down?”

Hermione smiled and let go of Remus’s other hand. “If you two don’t mind, I’m going to pop round to the shop?”

“Sure,” Remus said sleepily, stretching out to fill the rest of the couch when she stood up. He let his head rest in Sirius’s lap after his friend softened it with a throw pillow. The last thing he remembered before he drifted off was Sirius’s long, delicate fingers carding through his hair.

 

 

James carried two heaping plates of food out from Remus’s kitchen, taking a seat next to him on the couch as he handed Remus his plate.

“Prongs, this looks incredible,” Remus laughed, inhaling the spicy aroma of the chicken tikka. “Surely you haven’t taken up cooking, too?”

“No,” James admitted, crossing his legs underneath him as he settled in. “Nothing beyond a few dishes, anyway. Reg thought you’d enjoy this.”

Remus groaned in delight as he took his first bite. “He was right about that! Merlin, this is good.”

“I’ll tell him it was a hit,” James beamed and dug in. “So where’s Hermione?”

“Out with Frank,” Remus mumbled, swallowing before continuing, “and Neville. She’s really taken with him—and being an aunt, I think.”

“That’s right,” James nodded. “He and Haz were born only a day apart. We saw Frank and Alice on our way out of St. Mungo’s. Like two ships passing in the night.”

“You should coordinate your nights out,” Remus nudged him. “Get Hermione to babysit both of them.”

“I like the way you think, Moony,” James chuckled. “I’ll have to send them an owl. I haven’t seen Frank or Alice much since I quit.”

Remus nodded, pausing between bites to ask, “How is it, then? Full-time parenting?”

“It’s good,” James sighed, a dreamy expression stealing over his face. “It’s incredible how much Haz has already grown. He’s started stringing consonants and vowels together and he’s always laughing.”

Remus’s heart swelled listening to how James talked about his son. Harry was going to grow up with all the love and affection in the world and more family than he could count. And for James to be able to see his son grow up—everything Remus had gone through was worth it. There was no hardship, no sacrifice that Remus wasn’t willing to make for his family.

Remus finished his plate of food, quietly setting it aside, as he let James chatter on about Harry enthusiastically. He nodded along and chuckled at the description of Harry’s first time seeing his own reflection.

“And then Reg joined in,” James laughed as he mimicked the expression Regulus had made in the mirror next to Harry.

“And how are things with Regulus?” Remus asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Good,” James said, a flush spreading across his cheeks. “Really good.”

“Hmm,” Remus hummed. “Are you uncomfortable talking about it?”

“No,” James quickly clarified, “Not at all. I mean, maybe a little, but only because we’ve never talked about it. Me being into guys. And I feel sort of guilty about that?”

“Did you realize you might not be straight before Regulus?” Remus asked curiously.

“Yeah,” James admitted, setting down his own plate and unfolding his legs. “Well, I didn’t necessarily know what I was feeling at first. I didn’t have the language to describe it, and I didn’t feel comfortable talking about it for a long time.” He ran a hand through his unruly curls as he explained, “I’ve always just sort of found people attractive regardless of their gender, but I didn’t really think anything of it. I didn’t think it meant I wasn’t straight, particularly when people were just objectively attractive.”

“Well, that’s already rather subjective,” Remus joked, but nodded encouragingly for James to continue. His friend snorted, looking as though he wasn’t sure whether or not to admit to something. He appeared to come to a decision.

“Well in hindsight I realize I might have had a little crush on you in fourth year, so you’re right about that,” James teased, knocking their legs together. “Obviously I didn’t know at the time. I just thought you were so cool and kind of pretty.”

“Pretty,” Remus scoffed in disbelief.

“Pretty,” James said firmly before continuing. “But I never thought anything of it. We were mates and I was obviously infatuated with Lily for so many years. Then I met Billie at New Years and she had a boyfriend and a girlfriend and I just started wondering...if Lily was a man, would that change my feelings for her?” He shook his head. “And the answer was ‘no.’ That didn’t matter to me. I don’t think gender really factors into whether or not I develop feelings for someone.”

“Huh,” Remus sat back. “So that’s when you realized.”

“Pretty much. After that, I really started questioning my identity, how I looked at people. Plus, you and Padfoot and Hermione, and eventually even Marls came out. It started seeming like more of an option for me, and like you didn’t have to fit into a box. There were more choices than just gay or straight. I could just be me, and that was okay.”

“Well, I suppose I should be flattered that I played two minor roles in your road to self-discovery,” Remus teased. He cleared his throat, continuing more seriously, “Thank you for telling me, James. I’m proud of you. And I’m glad that you’re able to explore things now.”

“Yeah, me too,” James beamed, leaning in as if to share a secret. “I really like him, Moony.”

“He is surprisingly likeable,” Remus agreed, laughing when James swatted him. “What? He is! And it wasn’t exactly expected.”

“Reg is so much more than just ‘likeable’,” James corrected him. “He’s thoughtful, he’s always learning, he’s bloody brilliant—”

“You forgot gorgeous,” Remus added helpfully, his eyes dancing.

“He’s gorgeous,” James amended, continuing, “and he gets along splendidly with Lily!”

“I can only imagine,” Remus laughed at the thought of James’s two partners joining forces. “I’m assuming they tease you mercilessly?”

“Oh, non-stop,” James shook his head fondly.

“Well, I’m glad you’re happy,” Remus smiled, reaching out to give his hand a quick squeeze.

“Wildly,” James grinned back. He titled his head and asked, “How are things with you? Padfoot had mentioned that you’ve been spending more time together.”

“Yeah, he’s been helping me work through some stuff.” Remus fiddled with the hem of his knit jumper. “I’ve been having trouble processing what happened to me as a kid—with Greyback, you know? Elliot says it’s PTSD.”

“Is there anything I can do?” James asked, shifting his knees towards Remus. “I’ve missed the full moons with you and Padfoot, playing in the forest. I could easily slip away for a night or two every month. Maybe we could make a little holiday of it, if you don’t feel up to traveling after?”

Remus started to protest, but stopped himself. The internal narratives that had plagued his mind for so long weren’t healthy, he knew that. This certainly wasn’t the first time that his own subconscious taunted him with the thought, ‘I’m a burden to my friends and family.’ But it was a narrative that he had to rewrite. He exhaled slowly, reminding himself that this was something that friends did for each other. When James or Lily needed help with Harry, it didn’t make them a burden. He wasn’t a burden either.

“That might help,” Remus nodded. “I think I’d like to try that. Thanks, Prongs.”

“‘Course,” he smiled. “We’ve got your back.” Remus huffed a laugh and shook his head in wonder at James’s unfailing loyalty.

James hesitated, continuing, “I think it’s a good thing that you and Sirius didn’t jump right back into a relationship after the war ended. You both needed—need,” he corrected himself, “time to heal. But he really does love you. I hope you know that.”

Remus’s throat tightened but he nodded, “I love him, too. That’s never been in question.”

“Well then, I hope you find your way back together,” James murmured. Remus glanced down at his nervous hands, heart yearning for that closeness, that intimacy, even as doubt continued to swirl in his mind. But maybe James was right. Maybe they could have a future together, even with the limitations of things that could never be said, actions that couldn’t be explained. Maybe they could rewrite their narrative, too.

Notes:

Hello everyone!

I know the road towards recovery is slow, but things really are looking up for Remus. He’s got a lot of people who care about him, and want to help him heal.

Personally, I was very excited to have him and James catch up in this chapter. I will always headcanon James as pansexual, so I really enjoyed getting to write about his sexuality and coming out experience.

Some updates:
1. I’ve been getting more into cosplay and having a lot of fun with it. My TikTok (@fictionbutmakeitgay) is primarily cosplay and fanfiction right now.
2. This story is still being revised. I’m a bit over half-way done with revisions at this point. I am putting this fic on hold for at least a few weeks while I finish those and begin the last five chapters (currently I’m planning for 47 chapters total). I will keep y’all updated on TikTok and of course you can subscribe on Ao3.
3. I’m planning to commission a few art pieces from my friend @PestoProngs to accompany this fic upon completion. If you have requests for scenes/characters, let me know! I’m still working out which scenes to do, and how many drawings in total.
4. Flonks! So the end of April is #flonksweek on TikTok. Because I can’t help myself, I’m also writing a short Fleur x Tonks fic that I will release at the end of the month. It’s a very sweet modern AU roommates fic. So stay tuned!

Let me know in the comments what you thought of this chapter, or if you have thoughts about which scenes/characters to commission art of.

Have a great week!

Ace | @fictionbutmakeitgay

Chapter 43

Notes:

TW for very light mention of PTSD
Song mention in the third section is “I Wanna Get Next to You” by Rose Royce. You can pull up the Spotify playlist here: https://linktr.ee/gayfiction

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“Go get it, Pads!” James laughed as he threw a stick down the forest path. Sirius rolled his eyes but transformed good-naturedly, racing off along the deer trail they were following.

“Good boy!” Hermione giggled when the shaggy dog retrieved the stick and skidded to a halt in front of them. She gingerly accepted the offering, covered in slobber as it was, and launched it further down the path.

“What do you say, do lions play fetch as well?” James teased, slinging an arm around her shoulders.

“Not that I’ve seen,” Remus cut in drily. His bones ached, even with the soothing effects of the joint he’d smoked earlier. His friends had insisted on taking him on a little trip for the full moon, renting a cabin in the woods.

“We don’t fetch,” Hermione smiled mischievously. “But we do like to wrestle.”

Padfoot cocked his head, dropping the stick, and jumped into a play pose, his tail wagging happily. Hermione grinned and shrugged off James’s arm, sliding into her Animagus form. The two animals bounded off together, knocking into one another’s sides, although Hermione was noticeably careful with the large dog.

“How are you feeling, old man?”

Remus turned the question over in his mind. His body was still in pain, he was still exhausted, but he felt more at ease with the familiar smells and sounds of the forest. It was a far cry from the dark, closed-in basement that he’d grown to dread transforming in.

“Not bad.” He said finally. “Being here with all of you... it’s good.”

“I’m glad.” James’s eyes crinkled with obvious relief. “Honestly, I’ve missed it; running with you lot.”

“It’ll be different, though.” Remus’s mouth tightened, Peter’s betrayal hanging in the air between them.

“It will,” he agreed slowly. “But I think that’s a good thing; we can move forward, and make space for Hermione.”

Remus nodded in mute agreement, his heart tugging at the sight of his two friends playing in the clearing that lay ahead.

When he and James reached the clearing, their friends transformed back to keep him company until the moon rose. James pulled a blanket from the backpack he’d brought, and spread it across the forest floor. The four of them stretched out, their sides pressed together and bodies overlapping. Idle chit-chat filled the air as they waited for night to fall.

“I just never expected it,” Sirius mused. “About Regulus, I mean.”

“Which part?”

“Him being into blokes. You being into blokes. The two of you being gay for each other. Any of it.”

“I had a feeling,” Hermione said slyly.

“You did not,” Remus huffed a laugh. “You were as in the dark as the rest of us.”

“I never said anything, but the thought did cross my mind.”

“What gave me away?” James chuckled. “And don’t say the mini-dress I wore that one New Years at Bang!”

“I don’t know. You were such a good ally when Remus and I came out, and I just sort of wondered...” Hermione trailed off.

“Did you have to pick my brother, though?” Sirius cut in. “I mean, I get that we’ve got the Black family genes, but that’s a double-edged sword.”

“His cheekbones could cut glass,” James agreed dreamily.

“You’ll get used to it,” Remus smiled, squeezing Sirius’s hand in his. “They’re good together.”

His friend grumbled quietly in response, and Remus took that as grudging acceptance.

When it was nearly moonrise, the others transformed into their Animagus forms and waited patiently for him to turn. Remus shucked off his clothes and wrapped himself in the blanket James had brought. As his bones cracked and lengthened, it still hurt, it still tore him apart, but he hadn’t felt the same sort of distress in the hours leading up to the transformation.

And there was a certain joy and beauty in roaming the forest with three of his closest friends into the early morning: a graceful stag, a shaggy dog, and a fierce lioness.

 

 

The cottage they’d rented for the weekend was a quaint one-bedroom, nestled in the edge of the forest. The morning after the full moon, they helped Remus into bed with Hermione, and Sirius and James took the sofa’s pull-out bed. The four of them slept intermittently through the day, before James begged off. Remus didn’t mind; he had no doubt that his two remaining friends would mother him enough to make up for James’s absence.

The three of them laid around in bed for a while after they’d caught up on sleep, until Remus insisted that they at least move to the pull-out where they could watch Muggle television together.

“Democracy is all very well, but why give it to the people?” Remus repeated at the screen, his voice cracking with incredulity. “Merlin, this woman is awful.”

“She is that,” Hermione giggled. “But I can’t stop watching. Nor do I want to!”

“It is rather cathartic, actually,” Sirius grinned. “Seeing someone who prides herself on her ‘good breeding’ ousted from her ancestral home.”

“You would like that part,” Remus agreed drily, though a smile played on his lips. It was nice; watching reruns of To The Manor Born with the two of them. The quick-witted barbs exchanged by the characters kept them all in stitches.

“Here,” Sirius mumbled, passing him a chocolate cauldron. The sweet was filled with firewhisky that sent warmth flooding through Remus’s belly. Well, part of that warmth might be due to Sirius having thought to bring such nice chocolate. He glanced over at his friend, heart stumbling when his eyes caught Sirius’s.

“I’m going to head to bed,” Hermione extracted herself from the sofa bed. “Can I get you anything while I’m up?”

“No, that’s alright,” Remus tensed, wondering if he should join her. Would it be weird to stay out here with Sirius, to possibly spend the night together?

“Nah,” Sirius interrupted his train of thought. “I might make us some hot chocolate in a bit, if this one doesn’t fall asleep on me first.”

“Me?” Remus turned towards him indignantly. “I don’t think you’re in any position to talk. The last time we stayed up watching telly, you were out like a light!”

“Lies and slander,” Sirius scoffed. “I ought to have you court-martialed!”

“You’re ridiculous.” Remus smiled as Sirius simply curled closer to him as if he really were an overly affectionate dog.

Times like these, it seemed so easy; like he could just lean over and kiss Sirius, and the two of them could live happily ever after. But it wasn’t that simple, he reminded himself. There was so much that he still couldn’t tell him, secrets that remained wedged between them despite what Sirius said.

Still, it might be possible to forge a relationship strong and steady enough to do them both justice even with Sirius not knowing the full truth. Remus played with the soft material of Sirius’s T-shirt and marveled in the sweet hope that bubbled up his chest. Maybe this could be enough.

It certainly felt like it could be as they remained pressed together on the sofa, Sirius’s presence warm and comforting. Remus distantly registered a soft hand threading through his own as his eyes began to droop and he drifted into unconsciousness.

When he woke the next morning, Sirius’s hand was still loosely curled in his and his head rested gently on Remus’s shoulder. Sirius must have turned off the television at some point, for the only sound in the cottage was his soft snoring. Remus smiled and closed his eyes; the day could wait.

 

 

“Come in, come in,” Billie opened the door wide, a piece of toast in one hand and a tube of mascara in the other. As Hermione stepped into the flat, the smooth sound of Rose Royce washed over her. Billie glanced over her shoulder, “I got caught up in revisions, but I’m almost ready.”

“Take your time,” Hermione smiled and leaned against the kitchen counter. “When I was still in school, I was the exact same way.”

“Maybe worse?” Billie joked from the bedroom as she shrugged on a peacoat.

“Maybe worse,” Hermione conceded. She could see Billie rifling through her jewelry on the dresser top. “Looking for something?”

“The matching earring.” She held up a small copper medallion. “I swear it’s around here somewhere...”

“I might be able to help with that,” Hermione ventured. Billie huffed a laugh but spread her arms to indicate ‘go ahead.’

Accio,” She said, picturing the lost earring in her mind. It flew from its hiding place in the couch cushions to her outstretched palm with ease.

“Christ,” Billie shook her head and came closer, their fingers brushing as she took the earring. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this whole... witch business.”

“Nah, someday you’re not even going to blink when I conjure a fire or send something floating through the air.”

Neither of them spoke more for a long moment; her expectation, her certainty, lingering between them like a soap bubble, beautiful and hopeful but also fragile. One word from Billie and it would burst.

Finally Billie’s lips curved into a smile. “We’ll see.”

Hermione’s heart unfurled with relief, and the iridescent sphere rose higher still.

“Are you ready to head out?” She asked as Billie secured her earrings and began toeing on a pair of sneakers.

“Sure, witch girl. Are you finally taking me to your secret slice of London?”

“Diagon Alley?” Hermione blinked in surprise. “I don’t think so. I have a feeling it’d be a bit overwhelming for us both. I’ve only been there a few times since the war ended, and it’s rather difficult to go incognito. Unless you don’t mind me changing my face a bit?”

“Let’s keep your face how it is,” Billie teased. “I’ve grown to rather like it.”

“Okay, how about the new bookshop in Marylebone then?”

“That’ll do. Are we taking the bus or are you going to try that horrible suction thing on me again?”

“Apparition?” Hermione laughed. “You get used to it, but it is rather awful at first. I don’t really care how we go; I’m not on any sort of time table today.”

“Oh, let’s give it another try. I should really try and get home by three.”

“Study group?”

“No, I want to squeeze in another couple of hours of revision before Elliot gets off work. We’re going out tonight.”

Hermione squashed the pang of jealousy that nipped at her insecurities. Even though they weren’t dating, Billie still made time for her on a regular basis. And she was happy that Bille and Elliot were so steady in their relationship; that had never been a problem.

“We’d better get moving then! Here, take my arm.”

They Disapparated with a pop, and reappeared in a little alcove in Marylebone. Billie let go of her arm and doubled over with a moan.

“That bad?” Hermione asked, stifling a laugh. Billie lifted her head to glare half-heartedly at her.

“Worse.”

“Here,” Hermione dug through her bag for a bottle of Tums.

“Tums?” Billie asked incredulously as she straightened. “Don’t you have anything magical?”

“Well, not in my bag,” she laughed. “And these should do the trick just fine.”

“Oh alright, sunshine,” Billie grinned and popped the tablet into her mouth. Her stomach seemed to settle as the two of them walked over to Daunt Books.

Hermione’s breath caught at the sight of the cathedral-like space. Natural light flooded in through massive skylights, bathing the long oak galleries with a warm glow.

“The building was built in 1910,” Billie whispered, linking their arms as they climbed the stairs to the second level. “It’s changed hands a few times, but it’s always been a bookshop.”

“I think I’m in love,” Hermione murmured, which elicited a quiet chuckle from her friend. “What? It’s gorgeous!”

“It is,” Billie agreed, letting her hand trail along the oak bannister. “Elliot said that the books are arranged geographically; the shop specializes in travel.”

“Oh, I love that.” Hermione tugged her towards the shelves stacked with books on Africa. Billie let herself be pulled along, a smile crinkling her eyes.

“I’ve always wanted to go to South Africa,” Billie exclaimed, picking out a larger book full of photographs taken in Kruger National Park. Lions, leopards, and elephants seemed to leap from the glossy pages.

“Like lions, do you?” Hermione teased. Billie’s eyes danced with amusement.

“You still need to show me... you know. I want to see.”

“Next time I pick you up,” Hermione promised. A smile played on Billie’s face as she turned away and thumbed through another book.

“Cape Agulhas,” Hermione read over her shoulder. “Where’s that?”

“The end of the world,” Billie said with an air of mystery. When Hermione leveled a dubious stare at her, she chuckled and explained, “The southernmost tip of Africa, where two oceans meet. You can literally have one foot in the Indian Ocean and the other in the Atlantic. It sounds magical.”

“Incredible,” she breathed. Their eyes met and she felt heat skim up her neck with the realization that Billie knew she wasn’t just talking about Cape Agulhas.

 

 

“Frog and Toad waited a long time. Four days later the snail got to Toad’s house and gave him the letter from Frog. Toad was very pleased to have it.”

Hermione let the book close gently, smiling as Neville reached for the cover. His chubby fingers grasped at the image of Frog and Toad sitting together in a glade. He gurgled happily when his mother crouched down beside them and grinned at him, Alice’s already round cheeks widening even further.

“Another new book! Your Aunt Hermione spoils you, doesn’t she, Peanut?”

“Ah-goo,” he seemed to agree.

“Your arm must be asleep by now.” Alice tilted her head at Hermione. “Do you want me to take him for a bit?”

“Surely I don’t have to return him already?” she joked. “We haven’t even had a proper cuddle yet!”

Alice snorted. “You just let me know if you get tired. I won’t hold it against you.”

Hermione hummed distractedly, her heart swelling as Neville’s tiny fingers curled around her thumb.

“Oh but he is precious, isn’t he?”

“Must take after his aunt,” Frank teased as he brought them each a tall glass of lemonade.

“Merlin, Frank—is this freshly squeezed?” Hermione laughed. “Taking after James, are you? I’m loving this whole ‘house-husband’ business.”

“Well, I’m only on temporary leave. I’ll be back at the office eventually.” He took a seat next to Hermione on the paisley sofa and tugged Alice into his lap. “And while it is good stuff, I can’t claim credit for the lemonade. Mum sent it over yesterday.”

Hermione took a sip, rather than respond immediately, in a poor attempt to hide her discomfort.

“She asks after you, you know,” Frank said softly. “I think she regrets it... how she reacted when you came into our lives.”

“I don’t blame her for that,” Hermione said quickly. “And I never want to come between you.”

“I just think you should talk to each other, that’s all.”

Hermione frowned and tugged Neville a little closer to her chest. “What do you think, Alice?”

“I think you should do whatever feels comfortable for you,” she shrugged. “She does respect you, which is more than most people ever get. But you also shouldn’t feel obligated because of us or Nev.”

“I’ll think about it,” Hermione nodded thoughtfully. “Thank you. Now tell me, what’s been going on with you? I can’t believe you’re back at work already!”

“I’m still on reduced hours,” Alice reminded her. “But yes, it’s good to be back. The department’s had a busy few months, and it hasn’t been easy being short-staffed.”

“Yeah, I can imagine.”

Frank tucked his chin over Alice’s shoulder. “You had a big break this week though, right love?”

“That’s right.” Her face lit with satisfaction as she explained to Hermione, “We’ve arrested the last of the Death Eaters; Bellatrix and the Lestrange brothers were the last to elude capture.”

Relief crashed over her like a tidal wave, suffocating and liberating all at once. Alice and Frank would never be tortured for information, confined to a ward at St. Mungo’s while their son was raised by his severe grandmother. Like Harry, he’d be raised by the parents that had once been stolen from him. Hermione started when Frank handed her a tissue.

“It’s a bit unreal, isn’t it?” He asked softly. “The war really is over.”

She nodded and wiped away the few tears that had escaped. “I can hardly believe it.”

“It’s time to move on,” Alice smiled wryly, her eyes catching and holding Hermione’s until she returned the smile. “Now then, I want to hear about you. What’s new in your life?”

“Well, being an aunt is still pretty new,” Hermione huffed a laugh. “I’m not sure if Frank told you, but I’ve been working with Regulus and Kreacher for House Elf liberation.”

“He did mention it. How’s that going?”

“Good. We’re still in the very early planning stages,” Hermione explained. “We’ll likely approach it politically; if we can secure enough support among certain families, we think we can pass legislation through the Wizengamot to be signed into wizarding law.”

“Well, you can count on us,” Frank nodded. “And I’ll talk to mum as well.”

“Okay, so what else?” Alice grinned. “How’s the girl?”

“Billie is good,” she laughed. “We’re still taking things slow, including her introduction to magic. She’s really fixated on the idea of broomsticks, though.”

“You should take her flying!” Alice exclaimed. “I bet she’d love that.”

“I really only fly under duress,” Hermione grimaced. “And I don’t have a broomstick!”

“You can borrow mine,” Frank grinned. “No excuses! From what I hear, Billie deserves the world. And if she wants to fly on a broomstick...”

“We’ll see,” she laughed. “I may take you up on that.”

“It’s pretty romantic, too,” Alice smirked. “Just before Frank and I got together, I asked him for flying lessons.” She laughed breathlessly. “Little did he know, I used to play in one of the kid leagues... just didn’t have time for it at school.”

“I did know that, actually.” Frank ducked his head as his wife whipped around to stare at him. “But I figured it was a pretty good excuse to get close to you so I played along.”

“You did not!” Alice sounded both aghast and delighted. “Oh, you cheeky liar!”

Even Neville joined in as they all laughed and Hermione wondered at her own luck, at having been blessed with this second family.

Notes:

Hi y’all,

I’m so sorry that I haven’t posted sooner! I’ve been caught up with revisions. Freya and I have gone through the first 36 chapters, and I’m committed to working on the remaining chapters as we finish revisions. So hopefully I’ll have another update for you sooner than later!

If you’re looking for another story in the meantime, both my Ginny x Luna and Fleur x Tonks fics are up and complete. They’re cute little fics. Very light and fluffy.

For this chapter of YOLT, I had a few ideas sketched out, but not a solid outline (part of why it took so long for me to get it done). But it’s actually been really fun fleshing things out, especially Hermione and Billie’s date. I love our girls so much.

When I settled on the bookshop idea, I started researching bookshops that opened in London circa 1980 and Daunt Books came up. Immediately, I knew that was where Hermione and Billie would have had their date. Definitely look it up! It’s an Edwardian building from the early twentieth century with incredible architecture. Definitely the type of place that Hermione could get lost in.

And the book referenced during Hermione’s visit with Neville is, of course, Frog and Toad Are Friends by Arnold Lobel.

Thanks for sticking with me!

Please leave a comment if you enjoyed the latest chapter; your kind words always inspire me to write!

Ace | TT @fictionbutmakeitgay

Chapter 44

Notes:

TW for suicide ideation

The song in the first section is “Bless the Telephone” by Labi Siffre. https://linktr.ee/gayfiction

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“Dee,” he smiled into the crook of her neck as she leaned over the sofa for a quick hug. “It’s been a while.”

Dorcas hummed and slowly drew back. She looked the same as he remembered, though her cloud of hair had been neatly divided and twisted into a grid of Bantu knots. “It has. I’m glad I decided to swing by and pick up Hermione. I’ve missed you altogether the last few times I was in London.”

“I’m not sure how,” Remus chuckled. “I never go anywhere.”

“Maybe that’s the problem,” Hermione teased as she wound a paisley scarf around her neck.

“Where are you two off to then?”

“Dee and I are going out with Lily for drinks and a movie. We’re meeting her at Angelo’s in a bit.”

“We’re seeing The Empire Strikes Back,” Dorcas smiled widely.

“Again,” Hermione interjected.

“That good?” Remus tried to keep his voice light, even as melancholy draped over him like a heavy wool blanket, stifling and itchy. He’d seen the movie before, he’d seen the last movie of the trilogy before—though it wouldn’t be released until 1983.

“Oh, it’s amazing. You have to see it.” Dorcas turned to Hermione, her eyes still bright. “Hermione, tell him he has to see it.”

“You have to see it,” Hermione agreed with an apologetic shrug.

“Apparently I have to see it,” he agreed mildly and redirected the conversation. “Where’s Marls tonight?”

“She has a date.” Dorcas checked her watch. “Oh, we’re running late. Are you ready to leave, Hermione?”

“Yep!” Hermione said cheerfully as she laced up a pair of boots. “Lead the way.”

“Well, it was good to see you, Remus,” Dorcas smiled. “I hope next time we’ll have more than five minutes to catch up.”

“Yeah,” Remus laughed softly. “Next time.”

He kept the smile on his face as long as it took for his friends to leave the flat and for the latch to click shut. With only a week until the next full moon, his anxiety had crept out of the shadows of his mind, worming its way into each thought. They were going to rent a cottage in Hogsmeade this month, so that he could roam the Forbidden Forest.

Somehow, that made the shame of his continued fear that much worse. Despite his friends’ efforts to make him comfortable, he still struggled with the fear and anxiety that had come to plague him before each full moon.

Remus’s knee shook reflexively, his heel drumming against the wood floor. With Hermione out of the flat, he didn’t have to hide it anymore. She deserved a break, and he could keep it together without her.

“Exercise,” he muttered to himself. While he and Hermione had run laps while they were still at school, he’d fallen out of practice after they graduated. That was changing, as running was one of the tools Elliot had introduced as a way of centering himself. With a quick run, maybe he could work this knot of worry out of his system.

After a few calming breaths, he stood up and went to find his sneakers. They were buried in the mountain of clothes in his bedroom closet. As he glanced down at his ratty jeans, he realized he might do better with a pair of joggers, so he dug those out, too.

When he stepped out into the cold grey mist that hung over London, he nearly turned back for a coat, but decided against it. Once he got moving, he’d warm right up.

With each step, he picked up speed until he was bolting through the streets of this city he’d spent two, albeit short, lifetimes in. The street signs and buildings blurred together as he lost himself to the mindless thud of footsteps on concrete. A cold sweat trickled down his neck and his lungs burned from the exertion.

Finally, his body begged for mercy and he found himself unable to take another step. Gasping for breath, Remus slowed to a halt and doubled over. The run had helped a little, to distract him from the thoughts that crowded his mind. But as soon as his feet stopped moving, they came flooding back. I’m not in control of this and it will never go away repeated in his head like a mantra.

“I’m not in control of anything,” he whispered. Even after everything, he still couldn’t be honest with his oldest friends. And that was a truth he couldn’t outrun.

The bright lights of a car flashed in his eyes and he staggered further away from the road, bumping into the guardrail of the bridge he had stopped on. He blinked slowly into the choppy water below, punctuated by drops of rain.

His mind spiraled as the future stretched out before him, unyielding and vast as the ocean’s tides. It was too easy to imagine himself climbing over the rail and dropping into the Thames, his lungs filling with brackish water. No more lies, no more pain. Perhaps he could finally be at peace.

Lost in the haze of such thoughts, all else in the world had fallen away. And if a dark figure with familiar glittering eyes watched him from afar, well, Remus didn’t notice. He did, however, start when another car slowed down and an unfamiliar voice called out.

“Wotcher! Alright there?”

His hands flew off the rail and he stumbled backwards. What was he doing?

“Where’s your coat, lad?” The stranger spoke again and Remus turned to squint through the drizzle at an elderly cabbie.

“I didn’t bring it.”

“Well, come on in then. Let’s get you someplace dry and warm.”

“I don’t have any cash on me,” Remus protested, but the man just waved a hand dismissively.

“Don’t worry about that. I’m just finishing my shift anyway; consider this my good deed for the day.”

Reluctantly, Remus approached the taxi and folded himself into the small cab. Upon closer inspection, the man looked to be around his father’s age, the same salt and pepper hair though his weather-beaten face was lined with laughter.

“Where to, son?” The stranger asked.

Remus opened his mouth, about to give his own address, when he stopped. He shouldn’t be alone right now, he knew that much. The address he gave instead flew from his lips like a prayer.

When they arrived at the building, the taxi driver turned around in his seat and smiled kindly at Remus. “Take care of yourself, okay?” Apparently satisfied with Remus’s shaky nod, he continued. “There’s a good lad.”

The clouds had opened up and rain drenched him as he hurried from the cab to the familiar stairwell. He took the stairs two at a time, hesitating only once he’d reached the door. A few breaths after he’d knocked, Sirius answered the door.

“Moony,” he said, blinking in surprise. He opened the door further and gestured for him to come inside. “Merlin, you’re soaked through.”

Remus froze just inside the doorway as Marlene stood from the sofa. She was dressed casually in blue jeans and a low-cut blouse and Dorcas’s words from earlier came tumbling back into his head. Marlene had a date tonight. She was here with Sirius. They must have—

“Fuck, I didn’t mean to intrude,” he stammered. “I can just—”

“You’re not intruding,” Sirius frowned.

“No, I should go,” Remus said, blood roaring in his ears.

“I was just leaving,” Marlene cut in with an anxious smile before he could turn around. “Really. I have a date with Emmeline tonight.”

“Oh. Oh.” Remus felt his shoulders loosen and he attempted a smile.

“Sirius, thanks for the advice,” she said as she slipped past them. “Cheers, Remus.”

“Cheers,” he echoed faintly just before she closed the door behind her.

“Seriously, why are you all wet?” Sirius clucked as he felt Remus’s drenched sleeves. “Ever heard of a Drying Charm?”

“Don’t do much magic anymore,” Remus admitted, shivering as Sirius’s fingers brushed against his sides.

“Well, allow me,” Sirius pulled out his wand with a flourish and performed the incantation, pulling water from the fabric. “Now, we just need to find you a jumper. You’d hardly be our Moony without one.”

Remus huffed a laugh, Sirius’s easy presence already soothing the despair that had overcome him on the bridge. “Well, I guess the real question is have you got one?”

“Have I got one?” He looked positively affronted as he repeated the words. “Of course I’ve got one! Did you not realize that I’ve got a small collection of jumpers, most of which I stole from you?”

“Okay we’re going to have a much longer discussion about personal property.”

Sirius merely rolled his eyes and procured an oversized, cable-knit jumper from his bedroom that Remus immediately recognized as an old favourite he had presumed lost. “Here,” he thrust it at Remus. “Now then. I’m making you dinner. Pasta or ramen?”

“One could argue that those are two words for the same thing,” Remus’s remark was muffled by the knit as he tugged it over his head, the jumper cloaking him in the reassuring scent that Remus associated with Sirius: sandalwood with a hint of tobacco.

“Cheeky,” Sirius muttered fondly. “Okay, spaghetti or ramen?”

“Spaghetti,” Remus decided. “The only ramen you know how to make is from a cup.”

His friend’s squawk of indignation warmed Remus more than any incantation ever could, and he held onto that feeling through dinner. After they’d eaten, Sirius insisted on leaving the dishes in the sink and instead they curled up on the couch together, Sirius’s record player filling the small flat with music.

“I’m putting in my two weeks notice on Monday,” Sirius confided, continuing in a rush, “And don’t say ‘what a surprise’ or ‘what were you ever thinking, joining the Ministry’ or any tosh like that.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Remus said quietly. “Do you have any idea of what you’re going to do next?”

Sirius seemed to relax, sinking further into his arms. “Might just be a layabout for a bit while I figure that out.”

“Ah, then we can be layabouts together,” Remus quipped. “I must warn you, it’s not as glamorous as you might think.”

“That’s alright,” Sirius smiled. “I think I could do with a bit less excitement on the whole.”

Remus hummed in agreement, and they fell back into silence, letting the next song’s sweet melody wash over them.

It's nice to hear your voice again
I've waited all day long
Even wrote a song for you
It's strange, the way you make me feel
With just a word or two
I'd like to do the same for you

“You’d tell me if you weren’t okay, right Moons?” Sirius murmured, his fingers tracing idle patterns on Remus’s knee.

Remus’s breath hitched as he thought back to earlier that day, and after a weighty pause, he cleared his throat and answered, “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Yeah,” Sirius squeezed his knee and then tugged him further into his arms. “You’re here.”

Strange
How a phone call can change your day
Take you away
Away
From the feeling of being alone
Bless the telephone

It's nice, the way you say my name
Not very fast or slow, just soft and low
The same as when you tell me how you feel
I feel the same way, too
I'm very much in love with you

 

 

The first thing Remus noticed when he woke the next morning was that his pillow was a lot bonier than usual, but very warm. The second was that his pillow seemed to be much less pillow-shaped than he remembered, and more... dog-like.

“Pads,” he groaned as he pulled himself upright. “I’m going to smell like dog all day. Why’d you have to let me sleep on you?”

“You weren’t complaining at the time,” Sirius teased once he’d transformed back. “You seemed comfortable enough to sleep a good eight hours.”

“Oh shit,” Remus blinked, noticing for the first time the bright sunlight that peeked in through the curtains. “I’m supposed to meet Elliot for coffee.”

He turned to Sirius and was surprised to find disappointment hiding in those grey eyes. His heart tugging fondly, he asked, “Any chance you’d want to come with?”

“Sure.” Sirius’s eyes brightened instantly, and his pretty mouth turned up at the corners. “I mean, yeah. I’d like that.”

“Brill. It’s my turn to pick up coffee, so we can do that on our way to the park. Once I’ve had a shower, that is.” Remus sniffed himself pointedly, pulling a bark of laughter from his friend.

After he’d hopped through the shower and changed into another ill-gotten jumper and a pair of James’s trousers, they swung by the coffee shop and finally, the park that Remus had agreed to meet Elliot at.

His friend was already waiting on a park bench, a sketchpad on his lap as he drew.

“Elliot,” Remus called as they approached, a nervous smile spreading across his face. “I hope you don’t mind, but I asked Sirius to join.”

“Hey,” Sirius held out a conciliatory coffee cup. “Good to see you, mate.”

“Thanks, Sirius,” Elliot accepted the cup, his many rings glinting in the morning sun. “Likewise.”

“Do you want to move to the grass? We brought a blanket,” Remus nodded towards a shady patch of trees. Elliot agreed, and the three of them spread out the blanket and sat cross-legged on it.

“So,” Elliot ran a hand through his short, dark hair. “How have you been getting on, Remus? I know we’re almost to another transformation.”

Remus swallowed uncomfortably, yesterday’s emotions still bitter in the back of his throat. “Not so good,” he finally admitted. “I had a... rough night yesterday. Nothing would settle my mind.”

“Nothing?”

“Well, I went over to Sirius’s eventually, after—”

“After what?” Elliot prompted when he fell silent, and Remus’s eyes darted to Sirius.

“It’s okay, Moons,” Sirius encouraged him. “Or if you’d rather, I can take a walk around while you two talk?”

“No, that’s okay,” Remus deflated. It would be better for them both to know, even if the thought of actually telling them filled him with shame. “I had this moment, when I was out on my run, where I thought about drowning myself. I wouldn’t have done it,” he hurried to assure them. “But I thought about it.”

“Is that why you came over last night?” Sirius asked quietly, hands pressed against his knees, though his fingers looked like they itched to reach over and inspect every part of him. He nodded shakily.

“I knew I shouldn’t be alone. And you’re very distracting.” Remus amended, “Calming. Both, really; distracting and calming. It’s very impressive actually.”

“I’m glad you were able to recognize that, Remus,” Elliot’s eyes were warm with reassurance. “You did the right thing, finding Sirius. I want you to promise me that you’ll find him, or another friend, if this happens again. Yeah?”

“Yeah, okay,” Remus exhaled, and found that some of the tension had left his body.

“Do you want to talk about some of the thoughts or feelings you were experiencing?”

“Feeling helpless,” he said softly. “I often feel like I can’t control anything in my life, like I’m just at the mercy of the moon or the ocean’s tides or whatever gods are still paying attention.”

Elliot nodded thoughtfully. “I used to feel that way, too, though our circumstances were obviously very different. I know it’s trite to say, but it does get better. I’d suggest focusing on ways that you can take control in your life. Even if they’re small things, like setting a schedule or choosing an outfit with intentionality.”

“Okay,” Remus said. “I can do that. Thanks, Elliot.”

“Sure,” Elliot took a sip of coffee. “Let’s leave it there for now, unless you want to talk more about it?” When Remus shook his head, Elliot continued, “Onto lighter subjects then. Have you read any good books lately?”

“Yeah,” Remus said, relaxing further. “The sequel to The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. It just came out. Although actually, that reminds me; I was at the book shop the other day, and I saw an advertisement for a writers’ group in Notting Hill.”

“A writers’ group?” Elliot set down his cup and leaned back on his palms. “That sounds interesting. What do you think you’d write?”

“I’d always sort of thought about a novel,” Remus said hesitantly. “I’m not sure exactly what I’d write about, but yeah. Might start with short stories, though; less daunting.”

“What about you, Sirius? Remus had said that you’re in law enforcement? And that you have a close connection with your motorbike,” he added with a chuckle.

“Yeah, you could say that,” Sirius barked a laugh. “I’m quitting my job, though. It’s been sort of shite for a long time. Maybe since the beginning, if I’m being honest.”

“Well I’m glad you’re getting out, then.”

“What about you?” Sirius picked at the grass within reach as he asked, “All I really know about you is that you’re a tattoo artist and Billie’s boyfriend. Well, and that you’re helping Moony with all this.”

“I don’t know; those are the basics. I’ve always loved creating art. It’s pretty unreal to get to do that everyday and make a living from it. Unlike Remus, I’ve never wanted to write, but I do love poetry and prose.”

“Maybe I’ll come see you, get a piece done,” Sirius mused. “I’ve had some ideas brewing for my next tattoo.”

“I don’t think those are in short supply,” Remus cut in teasingly. “Ideas for new tattoos, that is.”

“Well I can certainly help with that,” Elliot grinned. “I even have some openings coming up.”

Sirius perked up, and the conversation flowed naturally until Elliot had to leave for work, at which point Sirius offered to walk Remus back to his flat. They took their time, keeping to a leisurely stroll, and Remus wondered at how the same streets seemed so much brighter with Sirius at his side.

“Elliot seems a good sort,” Sirius said, sneaking a glance at him as they rounded the corner.

“Yeah, he’s alright.”

“So are you two...” Sirius trailed off, but Remus knew exactly what he was asking.

“No. We hooked up a few times the summer before seventh year, but nothing since then.”

“Why’s that?” Sirius asked. Quietly, he continued, “I’d get over it, you know, if you did want to date him.”

“I don’t,” Remus said quickly. “He’s a good friend. But if I were to date, there’s really only one person that comes to mind.”

Sirius hummed, a pleased smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, and just when Remus thought they would leave it at that, Sirius nudged their shoulders together.

“He’s pretty,” Sirius remarked. “You have good taste.”

At that, Remus really had to laugh. “You would think so. He reminds me of you.”

Sirius preened a bit at the comparison, and Remus continued to chuckle as they took the stairs up to his flat.

 

 

However, as soon as Remus opened the door, he could tell that something was very, very wrong. Hermione sat in a fold-out chair across from the sofa, and with her: Lily, James, and Regulus along with the surprising additions of Billie and Frank.

“What’s going on?” Remus asked slowly as he surveyed the room. Lily and James sat on the sofa with Billie, while Frank hovered nearby, eyes filled with unease. Regulus stood angled towards their hodgepodge bookshelf, a copy of Gylfaginning, the first part of the thirteenth century Prose Edda, open in his long fingers.

“I don’t really know,” James shifted awkwardly, his eyes flicking towards his boyfriend, who still hadn’t looked up from the book. “Reg asked us all to meet here—”

“I think you should have a seat, Remus,” Regulus interrupted him, and Remus reluctantly obeyed, leaving Sirius by the entryway to take the free chair next to Hermione.

“Now what’s all of this about?” Frank demanded. “No offense, Regulus, but I don’t know you. And I don’t appreciate all the secrecy.”

“I think you’ll find, Frank, that secrets are exactly why we’re here,” Regulus finally lifted his eyes from the book, pulling the breath from Remus’s lungs as he recognized the dark, glittering orbs, so different from the cool slate that he expected.

“You see,” Regulus continued as cold sweat trickled down Remus’s neck, “your sister and her friend, the two wizards to end the war and defeat the greatest threat this world has seen in a century, they did not accomplish this feat on their own.”

“Well, obviously you were there,” Sirius bit out, some of the bitterness he tried to overcome resurfacing.

Regulus merely tsked and waved a dismissive hand through the air. “You must think larger, dear brother. How is that no one noticed Remus and Hermione’s interest in Norse mythology? It was rather obvious... almost as if they were laying a trail of breadcrumbs. I trust you are familiar with European folklore at least, if not the Æsir.”

“That’s absurd,” Lily stared at him. “People can have academic interests. To call it a cry for help is a bit of a reach.”

Regulus chose to ignore her, instead carefully re-shelving the book, continuing aloud as though he had not been interrupted. “Did none of you wonder whether they’d had help, perhaps from an immortal—someone who could bend the rules of magic and reality?”

““I mean, at this point with magic being real, help from the gods doesn’t seem like that far of a reach,” Billie snorted. “But I don’t understand why we’re talking as if Remus and Hermione aren’t in the room?” She tried to catch Hermione’s gaze. “Are you alright, doll?”

“They’re under some sort of curse,” Lily explained. “Something to do with the war, but we don’t know anything more. It seems to prevent them from speaking of some of the details around Voldemort’s defeat, and their time in hiding.”

“As in, they literally can’t speak,” James added.

“Interesting,” Frank appeared doubly concerned. “Have you tried to, you know, break the curse? Found a work-around?”

“It didn’t seem pressing,” Lily admitted. “The war is over, and we’re moving on. For me, I didn’t feel the need to know ‘how’ everything happened; I had my family back together, and that was enough.”

“Well, it’s not enough,” Regulus snapped, but James interrupted him again, running a frustrated hand through his hair.

“But why does it matter now? Assuming you’re right, what good does it do us?”

“Because it’s time you had the full story,” Regulus turned his flinty gaze to the two of them, treading closer.

“Remus and Hermione,” he curled his fingers across their shoulders, “your dear friends, are not from this reality. They were brought here—”

Regulus’s form shifted between one moment and the next, pale skin darkening and hair lengthening until the same woman who had brought Hermione to the Longbottoms all those years ago stood before them, smiling dangerously.

“With a mission,” they continued, ignoring the stricken faces that filled the room. “To prevent the destruction of our very world. Of course, it would hardly have been fair to let them have the support of several of the brightest minds of your generation. This was a task for them alone.” Their nose wrinkled in disdain. “Although that didn’t prevent them from recruiting the young snake.”

“Still,” they mused, shaking their head. “To finally find a pair of mortals capable of completing my task...”

They paced towards the window, gazing out at Muggle London. “I don’t have to do this, but I am feeling, shall we say, generous. I’ve grown attached to my little wolf pup, and my lioness. I’ve decided to give them their voices back. Would you like that, my dears?”

The woman’s eyes glinted as they turned to Remus and Hermione, the promise dangling between them, still just out of reach. A tear rolled down Remus’s cheek. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t even move.

“Hmm,” their lips curved up in a sly smile, slowly lifting two fingers pressed together. With a crack, they were gone and Remus and Hermione gasped, gulping in air.

“It’s true,” Remus croaked. “We’re not from this reality—this time.”

Before anyone could react, the door swung upon and Regulus—the real one this time—hurried in, “Sorry I’m late, I was leaving Diagon Alley and the oddest thing happened...” He paused, taking in the crowded flat. “What’s everyone doing here?”

Not knowing where to begin, Remus gestured helplessly.

“Are we not on for lunch, then?” Regulus asked Hermione.

At Remus’s side, she began laughing hysterically, burying her face in her hands, and Remus couldn’t help but join her.

 

 

“So let me get this straight,” James said slowly, thick eyebrows inching up his forehead. “You’re time-travelers. Moony, you had the shittiest, loneliest life imaginable. Most of us died. Hermione was friends with Haz, who grew up with the Dursleys. Padfoot went to prison for a crime that Peter committed, and then went and got himself killed after finally escaping. Then, some god—”

“Loki,” Hermione supplied. “We think it must have been Loki.”

“Loki,” James continued, “took you back in time to fix everything, to create a new timeline. And you both trained for years—right under our noses, even—and planned to sacrifice yourselves to defeat Voldemort for good. Am I missing anything?”

“Oh, lots,” Remus shrugged. “But those are the basics, yeah.”

“Blimey.”

“It does make sense, though,” Regulus mused. “All the little inconsistencies, especially how you recruited me. I always wondered how you could have known that I would defect.”

“But why become a Longbottom?” Frank interrupted, face creased as he sought Hermione’s eyes.

“Well, I couldn’t exactly show up at Hogwarts without some sort of introduction—connections, money, etc. It wasn’t ideal by any means, and I’m sorry that it put so much stress on your family, Frank, but it was the best I could come up with on the spot. Loki, of course, filled in the rest and spun the illusion.”

“What happens to us, my family? In the future you come from?”

Hermione was quiet for a long moment, and the room remained hushed in anticipation of her answer, each tidbit about this averted future another puzzle piece slotting into place. Finally, she spoke.

“You and Alice didn’t make it long past the war. I mean, you did survive. But you lived in the Janus Thickey Ward at St. Mungo’s; you both sustained severe brain damage from the Cruciatus Curse.”

“And Nev?” His voice was thick with emotion.

“Raised by your mother. Severe, but well-meaning.” She cleared her throat. “He was in Gryffindor, too. He had a passion for Herbology; you’d never find him without a book on plants in hand. He was one of the bravest and kindest people I knew.”

“Did he live?” Frank asked intently, fingers gripping the cup of tea that Billie had pushed into everyone’s hands, ever the calm and collected one.

“It won’t do to dwell on what might have been,” Lily interjected gently. “None of us know what our futures will bring now, not even Hermione and Remus. But we can take some assurance that it will be better, and that individually we’ll be stronger, because we have each other.”

“Hear, hear,” James raised his cup in agreement before taking a sip. “Merlin! Did you spike our tea, Billie love?”

“With Ogden’s Finest,” Billie grinned. “I figured you lot could use a little something to take the edge off. Me, I’m used to world-shattering revelations about the nature of reality.”

“Well la-di-da, aren’t you special?” James teased before draining his cup and holding it up. “Another!”

Billie rolled her eyes and passed him the half-full bottle instead.

“I really am sorry, Frank,” Hermione said quietly as their friends’ banter filled the room around them. “If I can make this right, I will. Just tell me what would be best for your family.”

“You’re still part of my family, Hermione,” Frank softened. “I don’t care if our relationship was born from deceit—Merlin that sounds dramatic—you’re still my sister and Neville’s aunt.”

“Adopted sister, then?” She asked drily, though Remus knew that beneath the surface, she was shaking with relief.

“Exactly.”

Satisfied that Frank and Hermione would sort themselves out, Remus scanned the room for the one person who’d been uncharacteristically silent: Sirius.

He had taken his cup of tea to the kitchen, and was currently leaning against the counter with his back to them.

Remus slipped quietly from his seat and shuffled over to Sirius, offering a tentative smile.

“Alright there, Pads?”

When the corners of Sirius’s mouth turned down instead of up, Remus tried to flatten the anxiety rising in his own chest and focus on his friend.

“Are you angry with me?”

That, at least, prompted a response.

“No,” Sirius frowned, setting his cup down with a clatter. “Of course not.”

He scrubbed his face and continued, “I am angry, but at myself—not you. The choices I made... How could I have been so blind?”

“None of us knew,” Remus said softly. “Peter fooled us all.”

“I’m not just talking about Peter. Going after him alone... Letting myself rot in Azkaban, abandoning you and Harry. Then doing it again when we were finally back together—”

“Well, it’s not like you meant to die,” Remus tried for levity, though the attempt felt heavy on his tongue.

“No, but—”

“Besides, Lily was right. It was another lifetime, thankfully one that we don’t have to repeat. I don’t want you to carry the guilt of the choices that someone else made, even if they had the same name and some shared history. You are not ‘Sirius Black: Escaped Convict’; you’re so much more.”

“Has a nice ring to it, though.” Sirius finally cracked a smile. “Sounds pretty dangerous.”

“Very cool,” Remus agreed mildly. “Though I much prefer ‘Sirius Black: Soon-to-be Layabout.’ Much less glamorous, but he sounds more my speed.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Sirius laughed, and Remus breathed a sigh of relief. Already, he could feel his world opening up. No more secrets. No more lies. Just a beautiful, mundane life shared with those he loved most.

Notes:

Oh wow. I know I’d promised y’all a more timely update than last chapter, but I’ve been running very behind schedule. I hope this was worth the wait!

Leave a comment and make my day, if you enjoyed! 💜

Chapter 45

Notes:

TW for PTSD/recovery, accidental misgendering

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The soft, leatherbound notebook that Elliot had given to him at the beginning of his journey was filled with writing. It lay open on his new desk, and Remus re-read what he’d written that day.

FALSE: I am a monster. I’ve hurt people and caused them to be killed.

TRUTH: Sirius was around when James and Lily were killed in the first war I experienced, and I don’t call him a monster. He is one of the best yet flawed humans I know and I want to be like him. I am like him. I am not a monster, I am human. I make mistakes. That makes me human.

Elliot thought it was important that he rewrite his internal narratives, and upon seeing them on paper, Remus agreed. After a moment’s consideration, he added another two.

FALSE: My value is dependent on protecting my friends. If my friends no longer need protection, my life has no value.

TRUTH: I don’t judge the value of other people’s lives, of my friends’ lives. People’s lives have intrinsic value outside of what they can provide for me. I am a person and I have value.

FALSE: I cannot have a good or happy life as a werewolf. I will always be in pain, and living isn’t worth the suffering that comes with it.

TRUTH: I have so many reasons to live, and a family who tries to ease my pain however they can. Eventually, Wolfsbane will be invented which will help my anxiety about losing control. And there are ways I can help mitigate the pain of transformation. I can have a good, happy life.

He set down his quill and waited for the ink to dry. The desk had already collected a few odds and ends—a pothos cutting from Marlene, a small stack of books, and a scented candle that smelled like autumn—but remained quite clean, like the rest of his room. Regulus had helped him tackle the mess, and he was doing his best to maintain it. Even his sheets were tucked in, albeit a bit rumpled.

For the first time in years, he felt something like hope. With each journal entry or conversation with a friend, he continued to unravel and process two lifetimes’ worth of trauma.

A knock sounded on his bedroom door.

“Come in.”

Hermione poked her head inside. “Will you be ready soon, love?”

“I don’t need to get tarted up, do I?”

“Nah, Frank said it would be very casual. Just an excuse to see everyone.”

“Then yeah, I’m ready.”

He smiled and tucked a bookmark into his journal.

 

 

It was only a few days later that Remus found himself standing in front of Sirius’s flat yet again, this time with a bag of takeaway and a hopeful heart.

When Sirius opened the door, a smile split across his face. “Moons! Come in.”

“Hey Pads,” Remus smiled back as he shook off his coat. He held up the bag, “I brought Chinese.”

“Thank Merlin, I’m starving.”

They spread out on the coffee table, a feast of fried rice, spring onion pancakes, kung pao chicken, mapo tofu, and wonton soup. Remus realized he might have gone slightly overboard, but couldn’t help it. His nerves had done the talking when he went up to order.

“Do you want to put something on the telly?” Sirius asked.

Remus wiped sweaty palms on his trousers and shook his head. “I was actually hoping that we could talk. There are some things that I feel like we should talk about. That I’d like to talk about. With you.”

“Oh. Sure,” Sirius blinked and set down his chopsticks.

“Sorry,” Remus grimaced. “That came out a lot more serious than I intended. You don’t need to stop on my account.”

“Okay,” Sirius said slowly, but he still didn’t touch his chopsticks, nor did he point out the pun. “What’s this about, Moony?”

“Hermione,” he blurted out, all of the words he’d prepared abandoning him.

“Hermione?” Sirius asked dubiously. “What about her?”

“Well, I know you two haven’t always... had the easiest time of it. Her and my relationship never seemed to sit right with you. And I—well, I sort of want to revisit it now that you have some additional context.”

“Me and Hermione, we’re fine,” Sirius frowned. “You’re right, that I was always sort of a jealous prick about it. But I think I get it now.”

“You do?”

“Sure. If it had been me, traveling through time and saving the world, there’s no way I wouldn’t have gotten close to whoever was on that mission with me.”

“Even if it were Snape?” Remus couldn’t help but tease, the idea chasing away some of his nerves.

“Anyone but Snivellus,” Sirius amended. “Probably.”

Remus hummed, a smile playing on his face, before he continued, “But what if... what if you and I were still dating? Would you still get it? Hypothetically.”

“Well, hypothetically you wouldn’t want to get in her knickers, right? It’s not like that.”

“It’s not,” Remus agreed.

“You know, when we were still at school, I had this idea in my head about James. I thought it would be the two of us forever. Plus you and... well,” Sirius trailed off, looking troubled. He shook his head as if to dispel Peter’s memory. “When he decided he wanted to start his own life with Lily, to move in with her instead of me. Well, it hurt. A lot. But I had the word ‘brother’ to describe what he and I have. I know it’s not quite the same, but maybe you and Hermione are somewhat like that?”

“Yeah, kind of like that. I don’t really know what to call it, but she’s important to me.”

“I know,” Sirius nodded. “It’s alright. I mean, it would be.”

“It’s just—” Remus swallowed nervously. “I don’t want any more secrets, any more questions left unanswered. Now that we can talk, I want to.”

“Okay. What else do you want to talk about?”

“I don’t know. You haven’t really asked about... before. Are you not curious?”

“Well, yeah.” Sirius shifted. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want to, though. Talk about it.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything. Nothing. I don’t even know what questions to ask.”

“I dated your cousin,” Remus burst out, heat flooding his face. Now he’d really put his foot in it.

“Andy?” Sirius drew back in surprise.

“No, her... kid.”

“Little Dora?” Sirius squawked. “That’s... that’s—”

“Weird to think of now, yeah.” He tried to figure out how to explain it. “They were 23 at the time, and it was never serious. We loved each other, but we weren’t ‘in love.’ Tonks was my best friend, especially after—after you died.”

“I... see,” Sirius frowned. “This is more than a little strange, but alright. Why ‘Tonks’, though? Did she go by her last name when you knew her?”

“Yeah. They also didn’t see themself as a girl; their gender was sort of fluid.”

“...Huh. I guess that makes sense. You’ve never been into women, right?”

Remus blushed again. “Once or twice. Mostly, I like guys, but really I’m just ‘queer for queers.’”

“Was it weird, though?” Sirius explained after Remus sent an inquiring glance his way, “Dating me and then Dora. Since we’re cousins, you know.”

“Pads, we... we never dated.”

“Never?”

“Never. I didn’t even know you were into men, or that you might be, until you kissed me at New Year’s that night in seventh. And even then, I wasn’t sure.” Remus chuckled. “Hermione had to harass me into making a move for weeks after.”

“That’s impossible,” Sirius argued. “How could we have never been together?”

Remus simply shrugged. “Something changed.”

“Do you know what?”

“I think—I think maybe me coming out. And Hermione as well. Before, when I first knew you, I couldn’t imagine telling you or the other lads that I was queer. I was so ashamed of it, and I wanted so badly to have your approval and friendship. To be liked. I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize that. But this time, I did come out. And then you started acting differently. I don’t know. What was it like for you? That autumn?”

“It was... different,” Sirius said slowly. “It felt like pieces sliding into place, you know? Like finally I could think clearly. See clearly. All these feelings I had ignored, they finally made sense.”

Remus stared at him wide-eyed, and Sirius twined their hands together.

“It’s always been you, Moons. Even before I realized what it meant, the warmth I felt around you. The way I wanted to be everything for you, do anything for you. I just didn’t realize until you stood up in the Great Hall exactly what it was.”

“I...” Sirius’s grey eyes held his patiently as he untangled his words. “I always wanted you, too, Pads. I tried not to; I never thought that you wanting me was even possible. But I did.”

“Do you still?”

“Yeah,” Remus felt himself swaying towards Sirius unconsciously. “I do.”

He would never be sure who kissed whom in that moment, but in the end, it didn’t matter. He was home at last.

 

 

“I’ll grab another bottle,” Lily said as she topped off Hermione’s glass. “Marlene, where’s your corkscrew gotten to?”

“It’s on the kitchen counter,” Dorcas supplied when Marlene shrugged helplessly. Hermione smiled. She loved their girls' nights; it was almost like being back at Hogwarts. Marlene’s flat certainly felt like it could be a dormitory. It was teeny tiny. The bed was shoved up against the windows and next to it, a tufted loveseat and small coffee table. The flat was decorated simply, with a trailing pothos and a painting that Hermione recognized as Emmeline’s.

“Ack! I still can’t believe it,” Marlene shook her head. “One of my best pals is a time traveler, and I didn’t even know.”

Warmth spread through Hermione with the words ‘best pals.’

“It’s like something out of a movie,” Dorcas agreed.

“What I want to know,” Marlene eyed her slyly, “is what our kitten got up to before we knew her.”

“I thought we already covered that,” Hermione laughed. “All the basics anyway. What else is there to say?”

“Oh, lots probably. Tell me more about that communication thingie you can bring places.”

“Cell phones?” Hermione giggled. “You barely understand landlines as it is. But cell phones are basically portable versions, but with the addition of written messages. You can use them to call other people or ‘text’ while you’re out and about. They’re certainly a lot more practical than an owl or a floo call.”

“That’s wild,” Marlene blinked. “Maybe we need to get some! I’d love to be able to bother you lot at the drop of a hat.”

“Well, they haven’t exactly been invented yet. But we can look forward to that in about ten years,” Hermione said.

“Perfect. Now what about that boy you mentioned? The one—”

“I’d rather hear about you, Marls,” Hermione interrupted. “How are things with Emmeline?”

Color rose in Marlene’s cheeks and she fell uncharacteristically silent.

“They’re adorable,” Dorcas smiled. “Completely mad for each other.”

“I mean, yeah. I am rather smitten with her—with Emma. It’s... good. We’re good together.” She fiddled with her glass. “I’m actually thinking about moving in with her. I mean, we’re talking about it.”

“That’s exciting!” Hermione grinned. “You’re getting pretty serious, then? Never thought I’d see you settle down with anyone.”

“Oh come off it,” Marlene rolled her eyes good-naturedly, her cheeks still flushed. “Now, Dee, on the other hand... We’ve finally found a worthy lad, or so it would seem.”

“Joel,” Dorcas explained to Hermione. “He’s a friend of my brother’s; they attended uni together. He just moved to Liverpool, and we hit it off.”

“Finally!” Lily crowed, returning with an open bottle of merlot. “I’ve been waiting years to finally vet a boyfriend for you. When can we meet him?”

“Don’t rush me,” Dorcas laughed. “It’s very new, and we’re taking it slow. Plus, he has no idea about, you know, magic. And it might be a bit difficult to introduce you and yours without letting the cat out of the bag.”

“Must be hard to fit in dating anyway, this being your first term and all,” Hermione mused.

“A bit,” Dorcas shrugged. “Uni’s been a lot, but then again everything has been a lot for so long.”

“How are your classes?” Lily asked.

“Well, I don’t think I’ve ever read this much in my entire life. Which is saying something! But it’s been good; sometimes it’s a struggle, but I still feel quite good about writing as a way forward.”

“I’m just going to be surrounded by celebrities, aren’t I?” Marlene teased. “War heroes and artists and writers and—” She glanced at Lily. “Incredibly talented, polyamorous healers.”

“What a title,” Lily said drily.

“How are things with the three of you?” Dorcas asked, re-filling her glass. “It still seems so strange to me, the idea of sharing someone.”

Lily shrugged. “Reg and I get on well; that helps. Sometimes I do catch myself reacting a certain way, and I have to sit with that feeling. Figure out if it was just a gut reaction or something more. It’s good, though. James is happy, and that makes me happy. And Reg’s so good with Harry! I don’t think that all of this would be nearly as workable if he wasn’t.”

“That’s sweet,” Dorcas smiled. “Little Harry gets a mum and two dads, huh? Lucky kid. Or is Reg more of an uncle?”

“I don’t know. We’re still figuring things out. Regardless, he’s got all of us.”

“Okay but have you ever...?” Marlene raised an eyebrow suggestively.

“No!” Lily laughed, and left it at that. Hermione thought she looked a bit uncomfortable, so she rerouted the conversation.

“Billie and I are having our check-in conversation, too. Her term is going better than she expected, and she suggested moving it up.”

“Kitten!” Marlene exclaimed. “That makes me so happy. Emma’s been pestering me for updates on you two. She’s very invested.”

Hermione had to laugh. “Well, hopefully she’ll be able to meet her eventually. Maybe over the holidays.”

“How’s work, Marlene?” Lily asked. “I loved your article in the paper last week... What was it? ‘Bagnold’s Blight’?”

“That’s right,” Marlene grinned, spreading her hands as if to frame the rest of the headline. “Ministry Power in Decline.”

Hermione slouched back against the sofa and let this still-new feeling of contentment settle over her, along with the bright voices of her friends.

Notes:

Hey y’all!

We’re nearly to the end. I can hardly believe it! I’ve got the next chapter drafted... I just need to revise. And it’s going to come with a special surprise as well!

Thanks for sticking with me on this journey. Appreciate each and every one of you. <3

Ace

Chapter 46

Notes:

Pull up the Spotify playlist for the songs!
https://linktr.ee/gayfiction

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“I can’t believe you talked me into doing this!” Hermione laughed nervously, hand wrapped around the broomstick she’d borrowed from Frank.

“Hey, I am not letting you out of this one,” Billie smiled against her neck. “If I know a real life witch, the very least she can do is take me for a ride on her broomstick.”

“Well, here goes nothing,” Hermione muttered. “Hold on tight.”

In a breath, they went from hovering above the soft earth to shooting up above the English countryside. Thanks to Hermione’s charmwork, they could fly undetected by Muggles.

Billie let out a joyous whoop that was quickly taken by the wind. She released her grip on Hermione’s waist and spread her arms wide.

“I’m flying!” She shouted. “This is crazy!”

You’re crazy!” Hermione shouted back. “Hold onto me, or I’m taking you straight down!”

“Oh, alright. But only because you’re nice to hold onto,” Billie allowed. With Billie’s arms once again wrapped around her, Hermione felt a bit more at ease.

And when Billie rested her cheek against Hermione’s back, she felt that familiar rush of warmth. The one that had kept her anchored to this girl for so long.

As a Muggle, Billie wasn’t able to control or steer the broom, but she was quick to make suggestions in Hermione’s ear.

“Take me through the clouds?” or “Faster!” or even “Can you do a barrel roll?”

Most of which Hermione was happy to oblige, with the exception of the last one. There was no way she was turning them upside down on a broom, even if it was just for a moment.

Finally, Billie seemed to run out of ideas and Hermione took them back down to where they’d left their picnic lunch. She renewed the Warming Charm on both of them, and they spread out the plaid blanket.

“So,” Hermione said, busying herself with arranging the cheese and crackers and at a loss for what to say next.

“So,” Billie repeated, a small smile playing on her lips.

“You said you wanted to talk? About us?”

“I did.” Billie paused to pop a strawberry into her mouth. “Things are going well with school. And with us, at least from my perspective. What do you think?”

“I feel the same as I always have. Well, that’s not entirely true. I can tell that our relationship is stronger having taken this time to be friends first. I’m glad you asked for this time apart. But I still love you. I still want to be with you... If you’ll have me.”

“Oh baby,” Billie leaned over the spread to trace her jaw. “I’m as in love with you as ever.”

That was all Hermione needed to hear, and she surged forward to capture Billie’s lips. They were as soft and earnest as Hermione remembered, and she revelled in the feeling of their first kiss in so many months.

“So does this mean I can call you my girlfriend again?” Hermione breathed against her lips.

“You can call me whatever you like,” Billie laughed huskily. “As long as I get to keep kissing your gorgeous mouth, I’m easy.”

Hermione smiled against her lips as they reconnected, and their picnic lunch was forgotten for the time being.

 

 

Hermione poured the wine and sent three glasses floating to the sofa, where a few of her favorite people sat.

Sirius was cross-legged on the floor, his back leaned against the sofa between Remus’s legs while his partner braided his long, dark hair. Next to them, Billie offered advice and encouragement. Remus wasn’t exactly a natural.

Still, it was nice to see him so engaged and at ease. He’d made so much progress that autumn, and it showed. Even their living space seemed brighter and more alive. Remus had finally bought new plants to live in front of the large windows, and they were flourishing under his care.

She set down the bottle of wine and picked up her own glass, pausing on her way out of the kitchen. Even the snapshots stuck onto the fridge illustrated the new fullness of their lives: Frank, Alice, Hermione, and Neville at the zoo; Sirius, Remus, and James with Harry dressed up for Halloween; Hermione, Remus, and Regulus bent over a new recipe that had blown up in their faces; all the girls on a night out.

Life was good.

She continued to the living room, and grinned as Billie pulled her down onto her lap.

“Hey love,” she murmured, stealing a quick kiss that Hermione was all too happy to give.

“Do you have to be so cute all of the time?” Sirius complained. “You’re really putting the pressure on me and Moony.”

“Somehow I think we don’t factor into your PDA all that much,” Hermione said drily. Sirius rather proved her point, she thought, as he turned his head to kiss Remus’s leg.

“You know, I’ve been thinking more about you two being from the future,” Billie cut in. “Like, Hermione’s told me there are no flying cars... which is rather disappointing. But what about trends? What foods really took off? What’s in style in the nineties?”

“Well, I’m afraid that I spent most of the nineties in a remote boarding school eating Yorkshire pudding and shepherd’s pie,” Hermione laughed. “And in a school uniform.”

“Yeah, but surely you got out a bit when you were on break? And your family wasn’t magical,” Billie looked at her hopefully.

“That’s true,” Hermione allowed. “Mostly, I remember the music. Every summer, I would come home and turn on the radio.”

“It’s been strange, trying to remember what songs and bands are from what years,” Remus nodded. “Didn’t want to fuck something up and reference music that didn’t exist yet.”

“Yes! Exactly,” Hermione exclaimed. “And it’s especially the worst when one of them gets stuck in your head, but you know you’ll look crazy if you start singing it!”

“Oh, give us an example, love,” Billie brightened.

“I’ve got one,” Remus snorted. “There was this one song that Tonks was obsessed with; they had a thing for lanky white boys, apparently.”

“How’d it go?” Hermione tried to think back, but couldn’t remember any musical interludes with Tonks.”

Remus began humming under his breath, but soon added words.

Yeah, I was dancing all alone a little self conscious
When some kids came up and said
"For dancing come with us."
And soon...

I was dancing in a lesbian bar, ah-oo, ah-oo
I was dancing in a lesbian bar, ooh, ooh, ooh

Sirius began to chuckle, batting Remus’s hands away from his hair so that he could turn around. “What the hell is that? That’s not a real song!”

“It is!” Remus insisted. “I just can’t sing for shit.”

“I have never heard that song in my life,” Hermione giggled. “Now, Sir Mix-A-Lot on the other hand...”

“Oh no,” Remus groaned.

“What?” Billie asked with delight.

“Well, he had this one song in the early nineties... and boy, did it take off.” Hermione glanced at Remus, and he shrugged.

She began with the intro, arching her back and tilting her head.

Oh my God Becky, look at her butt
It is so big, she looks like
One of those rap guys' girlfriends
But, ya know, who understands those rap guys?
They only talk to her, because
She looks like a total prostitute, okay?
I mean, her butt, it's just so big
Uh, I can't believe it's just so round, it's like out there
I mean, uh, gross, look
She's just so, black

Sirius and Billie both jumped when Remus joined her for the verse. They didn’t remember every single line, but they made it work together, stumbling through the parts they were unsure of.

I like big butts and I cannot lie
You other brothers can't deny
That when a girl walks in with an itty bitty waist
And a round thing in your face
You get sprung, want to pull up tough
'Cause you noticed that butt was stuffed
Deep in the jeans she's wearing
I'm hooked and I can't stop staring
Oh baby, I wanna get wit'cha
And take your picture
My homeboys tried to warn me
But that butt you got makes (me, me so horny)

“What was that?” Sirius howled with laughter. “What the bloody hell was that?”

“I have to say, I wasn’t expecting that,” Billie chuckled. “Certainly not from these two, anyway.”

Remus had a flush to his cheeks, but his eyes were bright with mischief as he and Hermione grinned at each other. They jumped to their feet and started shaking their hips as they continued the song.

 

 

“Are you sure you don’t want to just Apparate in?” Hermione asked him, her eyes scanning his face. Remus looked nervous, but determined, when he shook his head.

“I need to face this head-on. No slithering around—no offense, Reg.”

Regulus scoffed but he couldn’t help but smile. “Slithering isn’t so bad, you know. It can be very practical.”

Remus quieted and crossed the street, his two friends trailing just behind him. It was a good thing, him finally visiting the wizarding world. Remus had never replaced his wand after Voldemort had snapped it during the duel. He’d argued that he didn’t need one, nor did he need to do magic at all. Which, strictly speaking, Hermione couldn’t argue with. But she had to imagine that it was a bit like a part of you was missing.

Then again, as they entered the Leaky Cauldron and every head turned to face them, she could understand why he’d been reluctant to do so. Hopefully, having her and Regulus at his side would ease the discomfort. She’d known it all too well since the final battle, even if her role hadn’t been as dramatic as his.

“Just keep moving,” she murmured when he stopped short. It was too late, though. Awed whispers rippled through the crowd, and soon witches and wizards crushed towards him with outstretched hands and the odd napkin to sign. ‘It’s Remus Lupin’ echoed through the room.

A bright flash went off, knocking him to his senses. When Hermione squeezed his arm again, he began pushing his way through the crowd with a little help from his friends.

“Coming through,” Hermione spoke over the hum of the crowd, willing her voice to remain calm and authoritative. “Make way.”

Regulus hung back in the doorway when they made it to the rear courtyard, effectively blocking the path of any well-wishers. Maybe another day, Remus wouldn’t mind shaking hands and kissing babies, the whole to-do. But that day wasn’t today, and his friends knew it.

Hermione tapped the brick in the wall, its placement as familiar to her as first year spells, and they entered Diagon Alley together.

People still stopped and stared, but they were less likely to approach them in the streets, particularly when Hermione adopted the haughty expression that she’d seen Regulus wear in such situations. When she glanced over at him, he was indeed wearing it like armor. The judgments that people sent towards his pinned sleeve slid off him as easily as water.

The three of them walked with purpose towards the south side, ducking into the shop they’d come to visit.

“Remus Lupin,” the old man said, emerging from the dark shelves. His silvery eyes shone with something like excitement. “I remember every wand I’ve ever sold, Mr Lupin. Every one.” Without missing a beat, he continued, “Ten and a quarter inches long, pliable, made of cypress with unicorn hair.”

“That’s right,” Remus said with a small smile. “A lovely wand. Saw me through a lot.”

“Indeed it did,” Mr Ollivander agreed. “But it would seem that you’re in need of a new companion.”

Remus barely had time to nod in assent before Mr Ollivander had disappeared back into the shelves. He emerged with an armful of wand boxes, which he deposited on the counter in a heap.

With a flourish, he released the lid off the first box. “Twelve inches long, pliable, made of alder with a dragon heartstring core.”

Remus picked up the wand, but shook his head soon thereafter. “This one’s not right.”

Nor were the next seven wands.

“I wonder,” Mr Ollivander began. He opened another box. “The phoenix that gave its feather for this wand gave only two feathers.”

Hermione’s heart stilled upon seeing that familiar shape. Harry.

“Eleven inches long,” he started to say, but Remus was already shaking his head.

“No?” Mr Ollivander rocked back on his heels in disappointment, and Regulus raised a curious eyebrow. “Well. That’s alright. I have one more that I think you might like.”

As Mr Ollivander slipped back into the stacks, Hermione wondered if that wand would be right for Harry after all... His destiny was changed, that was for sure. There was no reason for Tom Riddle’s wand’s brother to choose him.

“Now then,” the wand-maker said, brandishing yet another box. “Let’s try this one.”

Remus lifted the wand with care, and as he grasped it, a calm seemed to settle over his face. He closed his eyes, and the wand produced a soft glow.

“Thirteen inches, flexible, unicorn hair, and English oak—a wand for the good times and bad times, it is a friend as loyal as the wizard who deserves it,” Mr Ollivander murmured.

“It’s perfect,” Remus was smiling as he opened his eyes.

A new beginning, Hermione thought to herself, and she could tell that her boys were thinking the same.

Notes:

The music for this chapter was, of course, I Was Dancing in the Lesbian Bar by Jonathan Richman and Baby Got Back by Sir Mix-A-Lot. You can find the playlist here: https://linktr.ee/gayfiction

Okay, so last chapter I said I had a little surprise for y'all... not only did we get our girls back together, but we also got ARTWORK! I commissioned this piece from my friend Em (@PestoProngs). They are such a talented artist, and I have been looking forward to this chapter for so long-- to have this artwork is such a treasure.

Only one chapter left to go! It is written, but I need to receive and implement final revisions. Thank you so much for sticking with me through this project. I still can't believe that I wrote a 90k word story! Getting this artwork commissioned was a way for me to celebrate/commemorate that accomplishment. Speaking of which... if you go back to chapter 22, there might be another little surprise featuring our two boys. 💜

 

broomsticks 1

Chapter 47

Notes:

There will be music this chapter! You can find the Spotify playlist here: https://linktr.ee/gayfiction

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Remus woke first, though that wasn’t hard to do. Now that Sirius was a ‘gentleman of leisure’ he didn’t much see the point of getting up at a reasonable hour. Sometimes, that could be a bit irksome, but today Remus was content to admire his sleeping partner for a few minutes before he pulled himself out of bed.

Sirius’s shirt was rucked up, displaying his very first tattoo, the one that Remus had longed to reach out and trace on the train in seventh year. It felt like a lifetime ago. Now, Sirius’s arms were adorned as well, and his back was freshly inked with the constellation Elliot had designed. Remus grinned at the thought of it; Sirius claimed to have chosen the Leo constellation in honor of his school house, but it couldn’t be a coincidence that Regulus was named for its brightest star.

As if he could feel the weight of Remus’s gaze, Sirius’s dark lashes fluttered open and he peered groggily at Remus.

“Morning, creeper,” he croaked.

Remus flushed, arguing, “You’d do the same to me if you ever woke up first, you lazy wanker.”

“True,” Sirius admitted. “You could sleep in more; give me a fighting chance.”

“Nah, I need to get up. Make some coffee. Stretch these old bones.”

“Oi, I’m older than you are. By almost six months!”

“Yes, but I feel older,” Remus grinned, moving to sit up. But Sirius was already wriggling his limbs around Remus, trapping him in bed.

“Five more minutes.” Sirius’s voice was muffled against his back.

“I’ve got things to do today, Pads,” Remus protested weakly, but allowed himself to be tugged deeper under the blankets.

“Yeah. Like cuddling me!”

“I can do that,” Remus smiled. “Item one on my to-do list everyday: satiate my cuddle kraken of a boyfriend.”

“What about kissing him?” Sirius asked, clambering on top of him. “That should rank pretty high, too.”

“Not in the mornings, though,” Remus said firmly. “Your breath stinks like a dog’s.”

“It does not!” Sirius paused. “And even if it did, it’d smell like a very cute dog’s. Besides, dogs have the cleanest mouths of any animal!”

“I don’t know that that’s actually true,” Remus gripped his shoulders to keep him and his morning breath at bay.

“Still, I would like a kiss.” Sirius adopted a hopeful look that Remus couldn’t say no to. He rolled them over so that he pinned Sirius against the bed and pressed their mouths together quickly.

“Good?” He asked, keeping Sirius still underneath him.

“Good,” Sirius closed his eyes with a smile. He cracked one open. “Now get out of here. I want to sleep for at least two more hours.”

“Merlin, you’re a menace,” Remus laughed, finally extricating himself from the bed.

After he’d brushed his teeth and gotten changed, he padded out to Sirius’s kitchen and turned on the kettle. While he waited for the water to heat, he gathered up his notebooks and the typed outline he’d been revising. Today, he’d made plans to meet with a few folks from his writing group and he wanted to have everything in order. It was hard to believe that he was about to start his first full-length novel.

While werewolves were very real to witches and wizards, Muggles found them to be a fascinating bit of fiction. He was hoping that he’d be able to publish this story about a child with lycanthropy in both worlds.

By the time he’d drunk his tea, it was time to head out, but instead he slipped back into the bedroom to say goodbye.

“What’re you doin’?” Sirius grumbled when Remus pressed a kiss to his head. “It’s still early.”

“Just saying goodbye,” Remus smiled. “I love you.”

“Love you too, Moons,” Sirius sighed.

“Happy Anniversary,” Remus added with a grin.

“Anniversary?” Sirius blinked his eyes open.

“It’s New Year's Eve,” Remus chuckled. “Seems as good a time as any to celebrate.”

“Well, then. We can celebrate tonight. Midnight.” Sirius’s eyes crinkled happily as he gazed up at him, warm and bright.

 

 

Hermione filled her cup with more of Alice’s delicious mulled wine, and rested her hip against the kitchen counter as she took a sip. Their flat was nearly as crowded as the underground, with all of their closest friends squeezed together for the occasion.

Frank and Alice were chatting with Dorcas and her beau, Joel, as they watched Harry and Neville play. Joel had finally been let in on the secret, and was as fascinated as the children by the no-heat sparklers that changed colors when you waved them.

Elliot had stolen Remus away, the two introverts disappearing to smoke a joint while their respective partners fiddled with the radio. Soon, Mortimer Harvey’s comforting voice filled the flat.

“Thank you for tuning into Harvey Hour on this very special night. I’m your host, Mortimer Harvey. I’ll be bringing you the best Muggle and wizarding hits during our countdown to midnight. Next up is ‘He’s the Greatest Dancer’ by disco queens Sister Sledge.”

Hermione smiled as Regulus beckoned her over with a warm smile. He was leaning against James, who was gesturing animatedly at his wife with a wide grin on his face.

“What’s going on, you three?” Hermione asked, bumping her hip against Lily’s.

“James is trying to convince us to take a family holiday,” Lily smirked. “You’ll never guess where.”

“I think it sounds rather... interesting,” Regulus shrugged. “Besides, we’ve seen the films enough times.”

“Which films exactly?” Hermione was sure that her eyebrows were creeping steadily up her face.

“Every Disney film ever made.” A giggle escaped Lily’s lips. “James and Reg have been unstoppable since we got a VHS player.”

“Oi! It’s for Haz,” James argued. “Our Prongslet loves them!”

“Surely this traces back to you, Lils,” Hermione teased. “How else would they have been introduced to the staples of a Muggle childhood?”

“Parents’ Group,” Regulus and Lily intoned together.

“He’s found this group of new parents, all Muggles,” Lily explained. “First it was park dates. Then it was movie afternoons. Now they’re trying to organize a group to Disneyland for all the families.”

“Which sounds so grand!” James’s face was bright with excitement. “Just imagine: all of us on a trip together. The rides! The characters! The buffets!”

“Well, at least let us settle in,” Lily shook her head. “Reg’s only just now moving in!”

“Oh, is it official then?” Hermione asked.

“So it would seem,” Regulus smiled shyly. “I just need to finish up some charmwork. I want a bit more space in my room. And we’re thinking it’d be nice to add another room to the house as well, a place where we can keep all of our books and potions ingredients out of the way of any Muggle guests.”

Across the room, the front door opened and Marlene and Emmeline shook off their coats. Hermione was about to excuse herself to go greet them when Billie intercepted the two women and took their coats. She winked at Hermione, and Hermione felt her heart warm with pleasure.

She turned back to Regulus. “I’m really so happy for you... all of you. You deserve the world.”

“Well, we’ll settle for each other,” Lily said.

“Oi!” James squawked. “You’d better not be settling for me, Lily love. I’m a real catch. Reg, tell her.”

“She knows,” Regulus smirked. “Just yesterday she was telling me how cute she thinks your smile is.”

“Really?” A smile split across his face as he fixed soft eyes on Lily. The three continued to banter as Hermione stifled a giggle and excused herself.

A bit unsteady on her feet, she refilled her cup with water and looked for her girlfriend. True to her word, Emmeline had attached herself to Billie and the two women were lingering in the hallway.

“Hey love,” Hermione murmured in her ear, slinging an arm around Billie’s waist.

“Baby,” Billie shook with laughter. “How are you doing?”

“I might be a bit sozzled,” Hermione admitted with a giggle. “How about you, Emma? Oh shit, is that okay? Or should I call you Emmeline?”

“It’s okay,” Emmeline smiled. “Lots of people call me Emma, not just Marlene.”

“Oh good.” Hermione leaned heavier against Billie, who protested laughingly. “So, how are you finding my girl? Isn’t she lovely?”

“Perfection,” Emmeline winked. “Now I understand what all the fuss was about.”

“What’s this then?” Billie asked, arching a dubious brow.

“Oh, just that Emma and I went out a few times during the war. But when we tried to take things further, I got cold feet and we just spent all night talking about you.”

“Me?”

“You,” Emmeline confirmed with a low chuckle. She nodded to Hermione, “It all worked out in the end, eh? We both got the girl.”

“What do you think, love? Did I get you?” Hermione asked, sneaking her fingers underneath the hem of Billie’s sweater.

“If one can be ‘had’, I suppose you did,” Billie’s lips curved into a sly smile. “Though I like to think that I got you. My own brown-eyed witch girl.”

“Ugh, you’re too cute together,” Emmeline shook her head. “But what else is new, Hermione? Marlene says that you and Regulus have been working on something together?”

“And Kreacher,” Hermione nodded. “We’ve been creating a plan for reform, starting with house elf emancipation. Reg is signing the Black family home, Grimmauld Place, over to me for use as an office. He and Kreacher have just finished cleaning it out.”

“Wow! That’s such important work. Good on you. I do imagine that you’ll get a fair amount of pushback, at least from the old families,” Emmeline said carefully.

“I know,” Hermione forced herself to relax and not bristle reflexively. That was always the first thing people said, but it was true. She continued calmly, “I’m not afraid of a fight. Besides, we’ve already got a few of the Sacred Twenty-Eight on our side. My plan is to get the public involved, lean on the Wizengamot, and start a public education campaign. Once we’ve made strides with house elf rights, I intend to abolish the werewolf registry and other barbaric sub-departments within the Ministry. We can redirect funding to new social programs that will actually help people.”

“That’s my girl,” Billie’s voice was filled with pride.

Emmeline was nodding along now, her brow furrowed in concentration as Hermione continued describing her plans.

“What can I do to help?”

 

 

“There you are,” Sirius said, plopping himself onto Remus’s lap. Remus smiled and wound his arms around his partner’s waist. “It’s almost midnight, Moons. What happened to ‘It’s our anniversary?’”

“Well, it’s not midnight yet, is it?” Remus teased.

“Not yet,” Sirius allowed with a huff. “Hey, do you want to take a walk around the block? Stretch our legs a bit?”

“Sure,” Remus shrugged.

“That does mean that you have to let me up,” Sirius grinned, his smile widening when Remus’s grip tightened. “Come on, love.”

Sirius eventually coaxed him off the couch, and the two men laced up their boots and shrugged on their coats.

People spilled out of the nearby flats and clubs, their raucous singing and chatter filling the night air with an infectious sense of unity and celebration. Well, for the most part. Drunks stumbling into you like bumper cars or retching into trash cans did take some of the shine off.

“Don’t you just love London?” Remus stifled a laugh as they escaped the throng and ducked down a side street. Puzzlingly, Sirius didn’t respond right away. “This is the part where you say ‘yeah it’s rubbish, isn’t it?’ but you don’t actually mean it.”

“Sorry,” Sirius directed a rueful smile towards him. “I just—that’s something that’s been on my mind lately.”

“London?”

“Well, yeah. I’ve been thinking... Maybe it’s time to sell the flat. Put down roots somewhere else.”

“Where?” Remus asked uncertainly, his stomach wrapping itself into a knot.

“Godric’s Hollow. It’d be nice to be closer to family, and be there for Harry as he grows up. Not right next door, mind. Just... closer.”

“Would you—” Remus began, his pulse quickening. “Would you want to live alone still?”

“I don’t mind it,” Sirius said slowly. “But I’d also like to live with you someday. If you wanted to. Wherever I end up, I want it to be close to a good stretch of forest. For, you know.”

“Oh,” Remus blinked. His heart swelled at the gesture. “Listen. Hermione and I have been talking about living apart. Reshaping our lives. Again. I’m not a hundred percent ready yet, but I would like to build a life with you. To have a home together. If you’re amenable, that is.”

Sirius stopped in his tracks, and stared at him. “Of course I’m amenable, you great numpty,” he growled.

“Really?” Remus was sure his mouth was hanging open.

“Were you not listening before?” Sirius spluttered. “Merlin, for someone so smart, you can be kind of an idiot.”

“You know, I’ve heard that before,” Remus ducked his head, a grin forming at the memory. “Hermione may have said as much, after our first kiss.”

“You and me?” Sirius laughed, swaying towards him. “At that club?”

“Yeah, I thought maybe you just kissed me ‘as friends.’ Or maybe to show that you were totally cool with me being queer. Not because you liked me or anything. I couldn't wrap my brain around that.”

“You really are hopeless,” Sirius’s eyes crinkled fondly.

Both men jumped when cries of “Happy New Year!” sounded throughout the city, drifting from every open window and echoing along the crowded streets.

“We missed it,” Remus gaped at him. “We bloody well missed it!”

“Oh, c’mere,” Sirius rolled his eyes, tugging Remus towards him by the lapels of his coat and pressing their lips together. “I love you,” he drew back just enough to whisper, “even if you’re—”

But Remus swallowed the rest of his words, hoping to capture his full attention with the feeling of his lips, his hands, the press of their bodies. The world narrowed to them, once again.

“I love you, too,” he said breathlessly, finally drawing back enough to rest their foreheads together. “Always have. Always will.”

“In every life.”

 

 

“You’re back!” Hermione grinned, pouncing on Remus at the door. In their absence, their friends had turned up the radio and from the looks of it, polished off the punch.

“We weren’t gone that long,” Remus laughed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She sunk into his side, clearly unsteady on her feet.

“Bollocks,” Hermione scoffed. “I want to dance with you! I’ve danced with everyone else.”

“You haven’t danced with me,” Sirius teased, reaching for Remus’s coat. He untangled himself from Hermione long enough to shuck it off.

“You’re next,” she threatened, and Sirius laughed. He took their coats to the bedroom, and Hermione pulled Remus out into the living room. He put an arm around her waist, and clasped their other hands together, and they began swaying to the music. Soon, though, the song ended and Harvey’s voice came through the speaker.

“I don’t usually take listener requests, but a very special friend of mine asked for a song tonight, and I couldn’t say no. So, to wrap up my set, we’re finishing up with Queen. Have a wonderful rest of your night, and Happy New Year.”

When Hermione’s gaze met his, soft and warm, Remus knew that she’d planned this. His throat closed up and tears pricked his eyes.

Ooh, you make me live
Whatever this world can give to me
It's you you're all I see
Ooh, you make me live now, honey
Ooh, you make me live

“What the—are you crying?” She asked, eyes widening. “Remus, you’re not supposed to cry.”

He laughed, the sound catching, and he reached up to wipe at his eyes. “I’m just... happy. Grateful. I love you so much, you know.”

“I know,” she smiled. “Now let’s fucking dance.”

“Fuck that,” he grinned back. “Let’s fucking live.”

Oh, you're the best friend that I ever had
I've been with you such a long time
You're my sunshine and I want you to know
That my feelings are true
I really love you
Oh, you're my best friend

Notes:

My goodness, I truly cannot believe that this is the final chapter! While I only started publishing it a year and three months ago (during one of our lockdowns), this story concept has been rolling around in my mind for several years. I’d always wondered what would happen if Remus & Hermione ‘grew up’ together, or went back in time together. And I felt very strongly that Sirius and Remus deserved a happy ending--and so did so many folks in the Marauders era. We need more queer happy endings, not just queer tragedy, in the stories we read and write.

My hope has always been that I might help someone with this story-- that someone might discover something about themselves through a character, or find comfort in seeing themselves in a story like this.

There are certainly things I would do differently if I was to write this story again. I’ve learned so much during this process about writing and revision. A lot of that is thanks to my rocks, Maddy and Freya. I had been publishing for months before I found beta readers, and I was so nervous about the prospect of someone critiquing my work. But their feedback has elevated my writing and this story more than I could have ever expected. I’m so grateful for them, and for the feedback of other folks who helped me review certain chapters and characterizations.

I know that I want to keep writing, but I’m not sure what’s next for me. I might go ahead and write that Regulus spin-off that I’d mentioned previously. That story would center more around his relationship with James and his familial connection with Kreacher. Otherwise, I’d love to potentially write a book someday if I find the right inspiration.

Thank you for supporting me on this journey. I couldn’t have done it without y’all’s kind comments and readership.

If you’d like to be kept in the loop, I believe that you can subscribe to my Ao3 profile -- that should keep you updated if I post a new work.

Otherwise, happy reading and thank you again.

Love,
Ace