Chapter Text
Harry had insisted on this party. No amount of protesting from Hermione had been able to dissuade him. A part of her had wondered if there was more to her best friends need to "welcome her back on British soil". He was too much his fathers son not to be scheming, and had spent too many years listening to stories about the exploits of The Marauders to not have something more in mind than just throwing a party for her.
To Harry's credit it could be a fairly innocent reason. Something as boring as "If all our friends see Hermione and know she is back in the country, then she can't keep hiding way wherever it is that she now lives". At worst she was going to have to deal with a prank that would be affectionate in nature. Somewhere in the middle was the prospect of Harry trying to help Hermione find her person.
Either way , she supposed it was a good thing Harry had run into her during the summer. She had been back for close to a year before that chance encounter. Taking care of her granny and moving in with her after she had a minor breakdown at the end of finishing her degree.
Stress and her overzealous use of suppressants had been blamed by the French healer who had taken care of her. Truthfully she hadn't really considered the extreme strain she had put her body through. Hadn't been fully aware that she was supposed to take breaks between her heat suppressants since she had previously been accustomed to the muggle versions of long-term birth control. The ones that were only prescribed before presenting at the age of 21. It had been less common for young adults and teens to be put on such medication until the mid 80's, but once the practice became common the number of unplanned and teen pregnancies dropped drastically.
Harry's parents had not been spared that particular fate, mostly due to the disconnect between magical and muggle practices. James, despite being quite the opposite of what most might have expected of a traditional omega, had gotten Lily Evans pregnant in their last year at Hogwarts. It could have been considered a scandal, but seeing as the elder Potters -Harry's grandparents- had had such a horrendous time at conceiving, the news about the supposed miracle baby had been received with quite the enthusiasm.
The Potter’s home, a cozy cottage that had been the Potter’s ancestral home for generations, was overflowing with guests that would have been much harder if the environment around the home was cold or wet.
The Potter’s Estate thrived during the spring and summertime.The warm summer night allowed for some of the guests to make use of the space just outside their formal sitting room, a small – Hermione used this term very loosely considering the general scale of the home – terrace that would lead out to the garden. The terrace was lit warmly and had a few seating options for guests to get comfortable, but the garden itself was left unlit dark.
Hermione hovered awkwardly by one of the glass doors that led onto the terrace, bottle of beer dangling from her fingers, as she looked around. She hadn't seen most of these people since she left to study abroad. Since her parents left to live in Australia – a dream they had held onto for years – and fulfilled shortly after Hermione started studying Law. She hadn't expected the fluttering in her gut, much like she had the first time she stepped on the Hogwarts express. Anticipation and nervousness mixing in an almost nostalgic way. Familiar in the way smelling pine trees and cinnamon might remind her of Christmas, but also of the trouble Harry inadvertently started before they went home for the holidays.
The Potters had been incredibly welcoming from the very first time Harry introduced her to his parents. Lily Potter in particular had made an effort to take care of her and ensured that she had been put down as a guardian proxy so that her own parents could be informed if ever something happened to her. An old custom from when muggle born wix would have been adopted or fostered into pureblood families. A rule that remained despite the practice having fallen out of favour. Many of the other Muggle born students did not have the same support Hermione got through her friendship with Harry. Hermione sighed at the thought, it had been exactly why she had spent eight years in Paris studying law.
Which was when she had realised how genuinely insular magical Britain was. Not only in the literal sense, but in many of its ideas, customs and traditions. Not to mention how outdated some of the laws were. If you went to school at Hogwarts, there was a high chance you would have met who you ended up mated to. Though it might be quite fortunate for the staff of Hogwarts that young adults didn't present until the age of 21.
Hermione didn't even want to imagine the absolute chaos that would have been presenting in her seventh year. Final exams and dealing with her first heat would have been an absolute nightmare. Besides that, she was almost certain that laws surrounding the education of Omegas -once they presented- would have been made. Restricting their access to education, under the guise of protecting the weaker of the genders from harm, and the general population from the fallout and aggression alphas were known, but rarely penalised, for.
No, instead she had to deal with her first heat in a foreign country. But luckily she had been meticulously and religiously ensuring that such a thing as her secondary gender didn't keep her from getting her degree. Only that her health had suffered for it by the end.
The verdict by the doctors both in France and once she moved in with her Granny, had been decisive. No more heat blockers. Her ruthless and nonstop consumption of the medication had drained her body very effectively of many nutrients and would have had more permanent damage had she continued taking them a year ago. Now all she was allowed were scent blockers and hormone stabilisers, the precursors of what had become heat blockers. A far less helpful crutch. For her safety. As she was solidly in her mid-twenties and unmated. An issue she had been entirely unwilling to consider as such. She refused to be forced into any situation due to her secondary gender.
Hermione's first heat off medication had been excruciating. Not for the usual fever and loneliness related reasons, but because it seemed her body needed to relearn how to do the entire "heat to entice mate to dump a big juicy load into the waiting womb" routine.
Instead she had the worst cramps for an extended weekend and an almost dangerously high fever. the customary hornyness didn't truly reappear until her last heat. They were still very crampy and achy and Hermione suspected that she might just have to deal with that as a long term side effect of how she had ignored the precautions and instructions on how to take her suppressants.
The last one had mostly been the normal unbearably horny, messy and hazy thing they should be. Besides the ache or occasional cramp. Not that any of these people actually knew her designation. Even Harry, with whom she now had spent a little time ever since their run in, didn't know. It wasn't a shame thing. It was a "how do i say this without making it a big deal when I really don't want to talk about it in the first place"-kind of thing.
Hermione sighed. She really needed to find Ginny and maybe Fleur. They were her best bet for this conversation really. Lily might be an option too. But honestly, talking to her best friend’s mother about her reproductive system and how it had almost set out to kill her didn’t really appeal to her.
Hermione would do it. She would chat with the women in this patchwork of close friends and unconventional family and maybe she would feel less on edge. She knew they wouldn't judge her, wouldn't berate her.
She just struggled with the prospect of how to tell them. Hermione Granger, over achiever and prospective changer of wizarding society was an omega and unlikely to ever achieve any of the things most had assumed she would do with ease. Not because she was incapable, but because the ministry would not take her seriously.
Eventually Hermione made her way over to Harry, his parents and their friends. People she felt more at ease with. She knew the Potters pretty well and had been introduced to both of Harry's honorary uncles. Uncles not by blood but by choice and virtue of years of friendship. She had spent a few of her holidays with them and heard some of the stories Harry had grown up with. Had come to understand how Harry could simultaneously be this overconfident idiot and the most loving person she knew.
Sirius Black was still the epitome of bad boy recklessness and painfully handsome. Tall and broad, his long dark waves tied back off his face and the scruff on his jaw had grown just past the stubbly phase. On most men that might have looked awkward or unkempt, but Sirius could probably turn up with a shaved head and still have most of the population flock to him. And if he was just handsome maybe that would have been fine, but he was more than just good looks. He was intelligent and funny too. And to make matters even worse he was a charmer and a flirt.
13-year-old Hermione had seen him and had been reminded of all the musicians her father had told her about. The ones he still listened to, but had started playing music in his youth. They were loud and apologetically themselves, bucking off ideas about genders. Wearing their hair in long wild waves. Wearing heels and makeup. Proclaiming their dislike for those in our society that belittled the ones with less power. She had been terribly star struck at that first meeting. And Sirius had never let her forget it.
He had let Hermione safely explore the concept of romantic interest, without ever being inappropriate. In that year and a half or so, when Hermione had been too young to understand how truly obvious she had been and too shy to ever do or want more than spend time with Sirius, she had made a habit of keeping him company in his garage. She had used his familiar taste in music as an excuse. Her thirst for knowledge on occasion too. She'd ask him 101 questions about the bike or car he was working on. About how it was he had settled on becoming a mechanic of all things. Usually she would bring a book or three and occupy the little worn loveseat that had appeared in Sirius work space, by his work station, on her third visit.
When she had still been in her delusional stage of fluttering heart and wild dreams of one day riding off into the sunset with Sirius, she had been insulted when a customer suggested that she might be a niece of his. At least there were enough regulars that nobody suggested she might be his child. A few years later she had met Andromeda and Tonks and fully understood where the idea came from. With her wild dark curls she did fit remarkably well into the Black family line up.
"Look at you tiny!" Sirius cheered, arms spread wide as he perched on the arm of the sofa, one boot balanced at the edge of the squishy thing. Hermione had made her way over with a soft smile that had bloomed into an unrestrained thing.
She had missed him in her time abroad. They hadn't kept as much contact, mostly because Sirius openly admitted that he had always been terrible at the entire writing letters thing. Though he had made use of a few work trips to meet up with her when he had ended up in her neck of the woods. Taking her out for meals or making her take breaks from her unending study sessions. His infectious grin greeted her as it always did, warm and overjoyed to see her.
He signalled for her to do a little spin for him, which she only did after the obligatory eye roll. It had become part of their routine, a ritual of sorts that was a hallmark of their familiarity with each other. And even if it started with a wildly fluttering heart and a deep red staining her cheeks, nowadays she just felt a fond affection for the man. She would always hold her little baby crush as both a fond and embarrassing memory. 13-year-old Hermione had not been subtle, spending every spare moment she could get away with in the older man's company.
"You are looking good. What have you been up to?" Sirius waved her into a hug and placed a loud kiss on her cheek, his stubble scratching her in a way she had grown to appreciate. An appreciation she had acquired in her time abroad and one that younger her would not have thought would have ever appealed to her.
"Mostly keeping my granny company. She has been needing more help around the house…" Hermione shrugged.
She really didn't want to get into how she hadn't been the big success taking over wizarding Britain everyone had assumed she would be. Didn't want to get into how the majority of her days were spent in her granny's little art studio, making use of the supplies and rediscovering a skill she hadn't explored since her early childhood. Hermione had been too busy with her academic potential to allow herself the time to paint. But after spending close to a year honing her skill she had taken up helping out at the senior citizen centre that had a few elderly living there, though most used it more like a community centre. Hermione was one of three people offering art as part of an enrichment program. They took turns instructing and encouraging the people that wanted to join.
Instead of getting into all that, she redirected to Sirius, which quickly snowballed into James updating Hermione on the most recent of what she had missed. Including The drama that had been Ronald Weasley finally admitting to his crush on Pansy Parkinson, only for her, at that point, to have been dating Percy. Though that had been about a year ago. But James did enjoy retelling the drama of it all.
"Honestly, I blame Mary." he said, nodding towards the witch who stood by Sirius' younger brother. "She was always so informed in our school years-"
"You say that like you don't have a standing date for her to spill any gossip you guys hear through the ministry grape vine." Sirius laughed.
James shrugged. "As Head Auror, it's surprisingly helpful to know about people's business before it becomes a problem."
"Is that the excuse we are using now?" Sirius asked, he lent into Hermione, voice lowered in the most delightfully mocking stage whisper as he pretended to confide. "In school he used to say it was so we could be better at our pranks. Know who to target and who really didn't need our bullshit."
"Well that might almost be thoughtful." Hermione whispered back at the same level, expression sweet until a grin burst across her face. "If it wasn't for the fact that he used to ask me for all the details on what was going on when Harry and I were at Hogwarts."
Sirius nodded earnestly, a heavy sigh coming from him as he really hammed up his disappointment. "Prongs just really likes his gossip."
Hermione continued to chat with Sirius and James for a bit, at some point in the conversation agreeing to come over for their customary Saturday board game nights. The two older men joked about how she had used up all her free passes to cancel on family time with the Potters while she had studied abroad. In exchange Hermione pointed out that it wasn't like she had been particularly secretive about her location and that Sirius had managed to visit her. It was all very light hearted, despite the verbal barbs.
Hermione had missed them. She had missed her friends and these people that had adopted her so easily as a part of their family. Even when she still had a fairly decent relationship if cooler one with her own parents. They had been very understanding and supportive, but the cultural differences between muggle and magical society were such, that over the years of Hermione's schooling, her assimilating into this new to her culture, a divide grew. It was an unfortunate part of the muggleborn experience. Hermione shook the melancholy thoughts from her mind. She had people here that cared about her and that was something she was eternally grateful for.
Sirius was in the middle of a story about a difficult client when she picked up the most divine and distracting scent. A bit like a forest after a thunderstorm. It was a wild yet soothing scent. Not particularly strong, considering how common it was nowadays to wear scent blocking patches when in group or crowd settings. A social norm that had started in Hermione's early teens, much in the same way how the anti-smoking campaign had taken off around that time. Both were promoted in an attempt to protect those that could not protect themselves. It was a big "think of the children" kind of deal. There had been studies implying that the decrease in Omega presentations was in part a protective reaction by younger bodies to the unhindered flow of alpha pheromones. But since those studies were so new it was hard to verify their claims, as was the case with most long running studies.
Hermione took a deep breath. Once again inhaling wet forest floor and fragrant pines. She found herself only half listening to Sirius' story, despite his deep commanding voice and expressive gestures. She was too busy trying to figure out the source of the smell. Without being obvious. She really did hope that the sniffing she was doing was discreet…
"Well I haven't seen you in an aeon." said a smooth voice from behind her, enveloping her in pine and rich forest smells. The heat of the person behind her back radiating off them in waves. Oh . She hadn't heard that voice in ages, despite enjoying his penmanship a fair bit as she studied in Paris. A shiver skittered down Hermiones spine and she took a deep breath on instinct. His letters had always been deodorised with a nifty spell, same as hers. A safety precaution most Omegas made use of, some even opting to cover the lack of scent with a perfume of choice. Hermione had not felt brave enough for that. To add a trace of the scent that complemented her natural one, because she had been forced to buy a new perfume when she presented. Something that complemented her sweeter chocolatey scent. Very few floral scents worked to her dismay, but she had found something eventually.
Hermione took another deep breath. Something she had taught herself to do when she was getting overwhelmed. This time it wasn't stress, but sensory input. Between the forest and pine smell and the heat radiating off the body behind her, Hermione felt herself get a little light headed. The scent drowning her, the heat caressing her without the person even needing to touch her and even just those few words… God that voice had her wanting to do things she had never considered particularly appealing outside of her heat.
"I'm sure both James and Sirius told you already, but we missed you while you were out of the country." the voice continued, completely unaware what it was doing to her. He reached over her to pat Sirius' shoulder in greeting, still not touching her.
Hermione felt dizzy with it. The closeness and warmth and the way he smelled. Has he always smelled like that? Had she just been ignorant pre-presentation?
"Especially considering all the messes Harry kept getting himself into!" James joked, expression exasperated but smiling. Truly he didn't have a leg to stand on when it came to adolescent mischief making.
"I'm terribly sorry you had to deal with his antics and actually try to keep him from hurting himself," she aimed for jovial and almost succeeded. But by Merlin if she didn't feel a bit dizzy and hot.
"You okay there tiny?" Sirius sounded worried, his hand already reaching out for her. "How much did you drink? You've got an impressive flush going there…"
She swayed slightly into him, taking an unconscious step into Sirius, away from the heat and scent. Even just that small step had her shivering, the air feeling cold to her heated skin, but Sirius' scent, smokey and wild, grounded her a bit. After a dazed moment Hermione blinked a few times, she pulled her mind through sticky lazy thoughts until she finally remembered the question and answered. "Not much." There was a confused and questioning note to her tone.
"Now Mi, no need to lie, we are all adults and nobody is going to tell you off, not even your old professor here!" James chided softly, laugh evident to the point that Hermione hadn't bothered turning towards him.
She hummed and rested her head on Sirius's shoulder. What had she drunk? A beer when she had arrived, Harry had insisted, and a glass of wine… Elf wine. Maybe that was it. She hadn't had elf made wine in a while and depending on the region of origin, those could be especially intoxicating.
"I really wished you'd stop bringing that up. I helped out for one year because the professor was on maternity leave." Remus potested in an exasperated tone that still sent shiver down Hermione's spine.
"But professor Moony …" Sirius pouted, one arm slung around Hermione in an attempt to stabilise her. His other hand was gently stroking her curls. He hadn't seen her get to this kind of state in a while. The last time must have been the summer after she and Harry had graduated from Hogwarts. He'd just keep an eye on her.
Remus, in the meantime, had launched into a well practised tirade about the misuse of titles at that point. Lamenting how the commodification and fetishisation of titles was leading to a deterioration of society. Sirius knew it was a joke. Knew well enough how much Remus enjoyed being addressed by a title in the bedroom.
It was a long standing bit that Sirius didn't feel the least shame about ignoring. He took his chance to whisper to Hermione unnoticed. "You okay? You seem a bit out of it." He could hear the concern in his own voice.
Hermione shook her head. Thinking was hard. Words were harder. She lifted her head to look at Sirius but struggled to focus. She was dizzy. Inexplicably dizzy. And so light headed. Dizzy and hot. That's how she felt. She wasn't sure if that had been a thought or if she had told Sirius as much. She felt as though she were drowning in that forest smell that had to be wafting off Remus. It was a nice smell. It reminded her of walks she used to take with her parents. Nostalgic and safe. Everytime Remus moved she was hit with a new wave of his scent. She felt so hazy, lost to her stray, disjointed mind. A mind filled with an almost simplistic joy and getting to be surrounded by the pine and forest smell. The rain and earth. The nostalgic safety of it.
"Let me get you home." Sirius murmured, hand resting against her cheek. He might have tried to get her attention a few times, based on the furrow of his brow and slant of his lips.
Hermione shook her head again. Grappling for words in a head that felt both heavy and vacant now. She didn't want her granny to see her like this. Barely coherent and vaguely horny. … Vaguely horny? When had that happened? Hermione clenched her thighs together to realise that she did feel a bit achy in her core. Huh… home was a bad idea because… because? Oh right, her gran's cottage didn't have a floo connection. Sirius wouldn't be able to get her home without a floo connection. But a bed sounded good right about now.
"Were you going to sleep here?" Sirius tries again, earning another little shake of her head. "Do you want to crash at my place?"
A beat, a hum followed by a feeble nod. Time was feeling just as sluggish as her thoughts. Pulled long and sticky like hot caramel. Would time burn her if she moved too slow? Would it stop if she was patient enough? freeze in place and make a delicious treat of the moment it cooled into. Maybe Hermione had drunk more than she thought?
"Right." Sirius said loudly, interrupting Remus in what normally was his favourite part. "Tiny is out of it and she'll be crashing at mine, tell Harry and Lily so they can come check on her in the morning."
Hermione shivered at that take charge tone. She had always liked a man who felt comfortable giving instructions. She might have hummed appreciatively as Sirius took her hand in his. It was much cooler than normal. How strange.
Remus blinked in confusion at his friend. He seemingly hadn't registered Hermione's state whatsoever. "Do you want a pair of extra hands? We both know she can get a bit unruly when she's drunk…" he cast a concerned look at the very floppy looking witch, leaning heavily into Sirius, cheeks flushed and eyes glassy. "I wouldn't trust on this being what she stays like…"
"Sure" Sirius shrugs, already making his way over to the floo.
Transporting a drunk person is rarely an easy endeavour. Doing that and using the floo was challenging. Though floo travel was preferable to apparition, too many small things that could lead to splinching. Either Way, neither Sirius nor Remus were particularly surprised when they stumble a bit when exiting the fireplace.
Hermione clung to Sirius, face rubbing against the soft material of his t-shirt. She mumbled something barely coherent. Sirius suspected it was a compliment to either his or Remus scent.
"Why thank you tiny. I didn't think you'd take much notice of us old men here." He replied easily, falling back on the habit of one sided conversations he had for like four years straight with Harry in the early days. He was rewarded with a happy hum.
Remus brows furrowed. Based on his confusion he really hadn't noticed Hermiones state. Sirius rolled his eyes, typical, get Moony on one of his little lectures, no matter how unserious, and he kind of lost any sense of time or place.
Sirius shifted to pick Hermione up, arms wrapped around his neck, legs folded at the knee.(A small giggled "whee" came from the girl he was holding.) Just like all those romantic heroes in action films, he carried her bridal style, a voice in the back of his brain told him, sounding suspiciously like Lily. "Can you get the bed ready in the guest room so we can tuck her in?" Sirius' request was fulfilled quickly.
Sirius followed and put Hermione in the large bed. She was an incoherent floppy mess. Limbs moving about in a decidedly uncoordinated fashion as she tried to get a little more comfortable. Remus thought she was talking to herself, rambling slurred words so quietly that it was near impossible to understand.
"I'm going to go grab her something more comfortable to sleep in." Sirius said, already out the door and on the way to his own room.
Remus waited with her, unwilling to leave her alone when she was this much of a mess. He wanted to make sure she would find water and a hangover potion when she woke up, but he would much rather wait until Sirius got back-
Sirius swept in. "Right, I am going to make use of those spells Lily taught me." He said with an awkward determination. He put the folded clothes beside Hermione, who had finally settled into a position that hardly looked comfortable. Sirius pulled his wand out and took a moment to remember the precise movement required.
It was a spell used fairly frequently in emergency treatments to divest patients of their clothes and get them into hospital gowns without disturbing the body. Lily had taught it to Sirius because it had also come in quite handy when in a time crunch with Harry when he was a toddler. Now he dusted off the spell to change Hermione into a large band shirt and some joggers that were highly likely to be too big on her. But he needed her to be covered.
By the time Sirius had successfully performed the spell and had magically dressed the witch, Remus was on his way back into the guest room. He had waited just long enough for Sirius to return before leaving to get water, a hangover potion and some muggle pain killers Sirius liked having on hand just in case.
It hadn't taken Remus all that long to find what he had been looking for. And yet when he returned he was hit by an incredibly sweet and rich scent.
Rich and sweet, like melting milk chocolate.
The scent was so strong he could almost taste it just from the door frame. It's delicious. Enticing .
The smell had Remus simultaneously leaning into the room and desperate to grab onto the door frame. Instead, he clung hard onto the things already in his hands, crushing the box of painkillers in their little film encasements, and threatening to crack the glass in his hands.
Remus could feel Moony coming to the surface at the scent.
"Pads" he gasped, unsure how else to voice his distress without panicking his friend. All his energy went towards staying right where he was.
He knew that he couldn't get any closer, Moony might just take full advantage. But the thought of stepping back filled him with an unfamiliar panic. Moony's, he assumes.
Sirius head snaps to Remus "I don't think she's drunk."
That's all the confirmation Remus needed before he dropped what he was holding and books it to the floo, he couldn't be here, there… in that room.