Hello my loves! It's been a while. I'm so fucking sorry. I went into a bit of a funk. Okay, that's a lie, I spiraled into a deep, dark hole of depression and self pity. I couldn't write, or do much of anything really, but I'm getting better now, and I'm writing again. I'm not going to say that I'll be posting with any sort of regularity, I don't want to put that kind of pressure on myself, but you can have this chapter right now. This very, very unbetaed, not even alpha read chapter. Fuck I am so sorry.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, this is JK Rowling's sandbox, I'm just building castles.
This story is rated M for the occasional sex scene and some violence. Also language, because I swear a lot.
Thank you for reading and please remember to feed the magical review eating fairy!
July 5, 1997
She wasn't sure when it had happened, but at some point Remus had moved them so that she was pressed against the wall, trapping her between his body and the rough stone with her legs wrapped around his waist. His lips were still at her throat, nipping and sucking at the sensitive flesh, making her entire body feel feverish with need. If he were anyone else she might have been embarrassed by the sounds she was making, or the way that she could not stop herself from rocking her hips against him.
"Remus," she moaned. She felt one of his hands pulling at her dress, yanking it out from between them to give him better access to her dripping wet center.
"Fuck," he groaned when he slid his hand between them and stroked along her slit, discovering that she wasn't wearing any knickers.
"Please," she begged, whimpering when he slipped two fingers inside of her. "Remus- Remus please." She let her head fall back against the stone wall as he continue working her with his fingers, his lips leaving a trail of kisses and love bites across her jaw and down her neck.
"Patience," he chided, but even as he spoke his fingers left her to fumble with his belt. Hermione slid her arms down from around his neck to undo the buttons on his shirt, slowly revealing the scarred skin of his chest. She couldn't seem to keep her hands still, they roamed over his body of their own volition, tracing over the lines of his scars as if memorizing them. "Look at me," he panted.
Her eyes rose to meet his, and she noticed that there was not a hint of green to be seen, his eyes were molten pools of liquid gold. She felt his cock press against her entrance and she let out a needy whine. "If we do this Hermione, there is no going back," he whispered. "If we do this you're mine, and I'm never letting you go."
"Make me yours Remus," she breathed. There was a flicker of deep emotion in his eyes, something primal and dark, possessive, as he slid himself into her in one smooth thrust. All of the air left her lungs as he began to move, slowly at first and then building to a steady rhythm that left her gasping.
His head fell forward, coming to rest on the hollow of her throat, and she could feel more than hear him growling into her skin. There was a deep burning ache building inside of her, a tense coil of emotion that had settled in her core and was growing tighter and tighter by the second.
"Remus," she gasped. Remus brought his head up and his eyes locked onto hers. The intensity of the emotions she saw there were almost too much and she felt the coil tighten further. His pace quickened, his hips snapping violently with every thrust.
"You're mine," he growled. "My witch. My mate. Mine."
Hermione cried out as the coil sprung loose. Her eyes closed and her head fell back against the wall and she was lost in a sea of bliss. Through the haze she could feel Remus' mouth against her throat, could feel his teeth scraping against her skin and for a moment she thought that he might bite her. He choked out her name and she could feel him spill his seed inside of her.
He lowered them both to the floor, breathing hard. Hermione cuddled into him, pressing herself against him so that they were touching as much as possible. They sat together in silence, neither of them feeling the need to fill the space between them with empty words and promises, and it didn't take long for Hermione to fall asleep in his arms.
November 6, 1981
After Dumbledore left the hospital wing there had been no time for Remus and his friends to question Hermione. Madam Pomfrey had appeared out of thin air the moment the old man was out of ear shot and insisted on giving Hermione one last scan before they were allowed to take her home. It took almost a half hour before the mediwitch would let them go and by that time Hermione was exhausted.
There hadn't been time for the grand tour of the flat that Sirius had been hoping for. Instead they had showed Hermione to her room where she had very nearly burst into tears before almost knocking Sirius over in a bone crushing hug, thanking him profusely. Shortly after she had given them all a pleading look before announcing that she was extremely tired.
The next morning Remus waited with the others in the living room for Hermione to make an appearance. They were all on edge, but none of them more so than Lily, who kept standing up and pacing the room before plopping down on the couch next to James. They had left Harry with the Longbottoms for the day, figuring that anything Hermione told them would be better off not reaching his little ears.
"Good morning," Hermione said shyly, startling them all as she stepped into the living room. Remus turned to look at her, his eyes roaming over her, his wolf cataloging every detail and committing it to memory. She looked tired, her eyes still had dark circles beneath them making Remus wonder if she had gotten any sleep at all the night before, and she was wearing another jersey – this one looked new, maybe custom ordered like the one that bore his name – with 'LONGBOTTOM' emblazoned on it.
"Tell me something kitten," Sirius drawled, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. "Where did you get so many Quidditch jerseys?"
Remus watched with interest at the way that Hermione's face flushed with color, the way that she crossed her arms over her chest and shifted self consciously as her eyes lowered to the floor.
"They – the Gryffindor boys in my year, and all of the Weasley brothers, and you and Remus – thought it would be funny if they all gave me a jersey, in their size, for Christmas during my fifth year," she explained. "Everyone who actually played Quidditch gave me one of their old jerseys, and the other boys had them custom made. Harry said it was their way of trying to get me to stop stealing all their jumpers, not that it worked." She shrugged as she walked more fully into the room, stopping when she reached the edge of the rug.
"That one from Frank and Alice's boy? Neville?" Sirius asked curiously. Hermione nodded, smiling softly.
"He didn't play, couldn't even ride a broom," she told them, laughing softly with a far away look in her eyes, obviously thinking back on a fond memory. "We would sit together for all of Harry's games, he was the youngest Seeker in a century you know, Harry I mean, made the team in our first year. Completely by accident, of course. I hated Quidditch, I can't stand flying, Ron and Harry thought I was mental, but I never missed a match. Neville would sit with me and we would talk about Herbology and Ancient Runes, when I wasn't hyperventilating over Harry pulling some new trick that would land him in the hospital wing, which honestly happened quite often-"
"Hermione," Remus interrupted, reaching out and taking her hand, "breathe."
The breath she took was shaky, and Remus could feel the way her hand trembled in his. He was struck with the sudden thought that if he were in her place he wouldn't be able to handle the situation with as much grace as she had. If he had been whisked twenty years into the past after watching James and Sirius and Lily die he wouldn't have been able to find the strength to get out of bed, let alone do half the things Hermione had done since she'd woken up.
"You probably have questions for me," she said after taking a minute to calm herself down. "Especially after yesterday."
Remus frowned and shook his head. "Hermione, you don't have to tell us anything-" he began but she sighed and shook her head, cutting him off.
"You deserve to know. If you're going to help me end this war then you need to know," she told him sternly.
"You told Dumbledore that you weren't going to help end the war," James reminded her.
"I told Dumbledore that I wouldn't help him," she corrected. "Dumbledore is an idiot who relies too heavily on prophesies made by that mental old bat, Trelawney. He has too many ulterior motives and he can't be trusted. We're going to stop the war, and we're going to do it right under Dumbledore's nose."
"How do we do that?" Lily asked.
"I'm going to tell you how we almost won before, how we would have won if Harry hadn't died," Hermione explained. "I'll tell you everything, if you promise me that you will listen to everything I have to say before you make any kind of decision about helping me because, honestly, it's not going to be easy."
They all looked at one another, knowing without even having to hear her story that their minds were already made up. Remus would follow her to the ends of the earth regardless if she was right or not, and James and Sirius would follow Remus' example, mostly out of loyalty to Remus but also because they were both very fond of the tiny witch who had fallen into their lives.
"Tell us everything," James said after a few moments of silence. Remus braced himself for whatever it was he was about to hear, knowing that none of it could be good.
Hermione took a deep breath as she extracted her little beaded bag from her pocket and rummaged through it for a moment before pulling out a stack of old newspapers.
"I guess the best place to start the story is at the end of my sixth year, with Dumbledore's death." She handed an article to Lily and watched carefully as the witch read what had been written there.
"S-Severus killed Dumbledore?" she whispered shakily. Hermione grimaced.
"Yes, but, it's not all cut and dried Lily, Dumbledore was already dying and he asked Professor Snape to kill him." She chewed her bottom lip nervously, trying to decide where to take the story next. "There was a boy in my year, a Slytherin, his father fell out of favor with Voldemort and he was marked and given a task as a punishment. You see, his task, it wasn't something he would have been able to do, and Voldemort gave it to him knowing that Draco would either die trying or that he would be able to kill him for failing. Professor Snape was a double agent, a spy who was considered one of Voldemort's most trusted men, when he learned of what Voldemort had planned for Draco he told Dumbledore and Dumbledore asked him to complete Draco's task for him, to protect him."
"Draco..." Sirius murmured. "Draco Malfoy? Cissy's son?"
"Yes," Hermione confirmed, nodding. "He was... he was sixteen, he was scared, his father was in Azkaban, Voldemort was living in their house, he didn't... he had no choice." Her heart ached a little as she thought of him, a boy she'd never imagined she could feel anything but borderline hatred for. She felt sorry for him now.
"That doesn't change the fact that Snivellous-"
"That's enough James," Hermione snapped, looking over to glare at him. "You don't understand, I know all about your little school rivalry, and while I don't expect you to be best friends with the bloody git you will stop with the fucking animosity. Fact of the matter is that in the end he gave his life for Harry. He died protecting your son, and I will not listen to you degrade him for making bad choices." James sat down in the nearest chair, his face pale, looking properly chastised.
"He died for... for Harry?" he breathed. Hermione nodded.
"Why?" Lily asked, looking stunned.
"You know why," Hermione said gently, reaching out and grasping Lily's hand in support. "But we've gotten off topic. After Dumbledore died we, Harry, Ron, and I, knew that it wouldn't be safe to return to Hogwarts. It was August when Voldemort took over the Ministry, and the boys and I went into hiding." Hermione pulled two wanted posters out of the pile and handed one to Lily who gasped in shock at her son's photograph beneath the words 'Undesirable No. 1'.
Remus had immediately snatched up Hermione's wanted poster and stared at it for a long moment, his eyes flashing amber as he stared at her list of charges. "What's the Muggle-Born Registration Commission?" he asked. Hermione couldn't stop the disgusted sneer that spread across her face at the mention of it, nor the angry growl that tore itself from her throat as her thoughts turned to Dolores Umbridge's crusade to eradicate everything she considered impure.
"It was a program developed by that fat cow, Dolores Umbridge," she spat. "It was designed as a way to trap muggle-borns into presenting themselves to the Ministry so that they could argue that they'd come across their magic legitimately. The Ministry released all kinds of bogus research stating that it was impossible for someone to have magic unless one or more of their parents were magical. Anyone who could not prove they had magical ancestors were given the Kiss."
Lily whimpered and James scooted closer to where she was sitting on the sofa, pulling her into his arms in an attempt to comfort her.
"And the rest of this, you were seriously wanted simply for being associated with Harry?" Remus demanded. Hermione nodded.
"There was no question that if they found me it would bring Harry out of hiding," she said, smiling sadly. "He would stop at nothing to save me, chivalrous idiot."
"What was Harry wanted for?" Sirius asked, taking the wanted poster out of Lily's hands. "'Wanted for questioning in regards of the murder of Albus Dumbledore'." Sirius let out a low whistle. "They tried to endear the public to the idea of capturing him," he murmured absently, sounding more than a little angry. Hermione nodded in agreement.
'Yes, well, they couldn't exactly arrest him for being the Chosen One," she sighed. "Anyway, we stayed at Grimmauld Place for a while, Sirius had left it to Harry when he died, but it became compromised and we had to use our back up plan."
"The tent?" Lily asked. Hermione nodded, grimacing at the incredulous tone of Lily's voice.
"I admit it wasn't my best idea," Hermione chuckled, "and I thank Godric that I was able to get my hands on a magically expanded tent because that thing was cramped enough for the three of us, I can't even imagine how much worse it would have been if it had been a normal, muggle tent.
"Before he died Dumbledore gave us a mission, he had discovered something about Voldemort that would be the key to defeating him."
"Horcruxes," Remus murmured. Hermione nodded.
"What exactly is a horcrux?" James asked. "You said that the tiara thing we destroyed was one, but you never explained exactly what it was."
"A horcrux is an object, it can be essentially any object, where a person who has committed the act of murder can conceal part of their soul," she explained. "In my time there were seven of them, two had already been destroyed, one of them by Harry during our second year and the other by Dumbledore during the summer before our sixth year. In this time there are only five, and we've already managed to destroy one of them.
"When we began our mission we had no idea what we were looking for, or where they could be hidden, all we knew was that in order to defeat Voldemort we had to destroy his horcruxes first. There was a locket that had once belonged to Salazar Slytherin, a cup that had been the property of Helga Hufflepuff, the Diadem of Ravenclaw, Tom Riddle's diary, a ring that was a Gaunt family heirloom, Voldemort's pet snake, Nagini, and Harry."
"Harry?" James demanded, his eyes wide. Hermione sighed at the panic she could hear in her best friend's father's voice.
"Harry," Hermione confirmed. "Godric that was a tough pill for me to swallow when I finally figured it out. The night that Voldemort killed you and Lily he tried to kill Harry too, but Lily had sacrificed herself to protect him, she invoked an ancient magic that saved him. The killing curse rebounded off of Harry and struck Voldemort, whose soul had been split so many times it was unstable. The curse split his soul again and it attached itself to the nearest object it could find, Harry.
"But we're getting ahead of ourselves. Harry destroyed Tom Riddle's diary in our second year, he didn't know what it was then, but he used a Basilisk fang to destroy it in order to save Ginny Weasley's life," Hermione explained. "Dumbledore had found the Gaunt ring and destroyed it, but not before it cursed him. That's how he was already dying before Professor Snape killed him. I'm certain that it can be found in the Gaunt family home in Little Hangleton.
"The cup is in the Lestrange vault in Gringotts, I know that Lucius Malfoy has Tom Riddle's diary, and we've already destroyed the diadem."
"What about the locket?" Remus asked. Hermione shifted in her seat uncomfortably.
"When we started our mission we knew about the locket, Harry and Dumbledore had gone to retrieve it the night Dumbledore died but it had been long before replaced with a fake by a follower who had turned against Voldemort with the hope that he could one day be defeated." Hermione's eyes slid over to Sirius without her permission.
"How do you know that it was replaced by one of his followers?" James asked.
"There was a note in the fake locket," Hermione murmured her eyes never leaving Sirius' face as she pulled the note from the pile of papers and handed it to him. Sirius took the note and read it silently to himself, his frown deepening as the meaning of it sunk in fully.
"What is that?" James asked, sounding unnerved by the expression on his best friend's face. "Sirius?"
"To the Dark Lord," Sirius read aloud, his voice shaking. "I know I will be dead long before you read this but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match you will be mortal once more. R.A.B."
"R.A.B.?" James questioned, looking even more confused. "I don't understand, who is that?"
"When did he replace the locket?" Sirius asked, ignoring James' questions.
"You know the answer to that," Hermione whispered.
"He really turned on the bastard?"
"He did," Hermione confirmed. "He died an honorable death."
"Who's R.A.B.?" James demanded, his voice rising.
"Regulus," Sirius answered, his voice flat. "Regulus Arcturus Black." There was a heavy silence as Sirius struggled to get a hold on his emotions. "Hermione, where is the locket?" he asked cautiously.
"Number Twelve Grimmauld Place," Hermione admitted. Sirius nodded, his eyes falling back to the note in his hand.
"That fucking figures," Sirius muttered bitterly. There was another brief silence before a rough choking sound split the air and Sirius began to cry.