Chapter Text
Hermione knew it was wrong of her to go snooping, but she couldn’t help it. The house was full of old magic, willing her to go on an adventure of some kind, even if it was just walking around the mostly empty corridors and occasionally popping her head in the rooms where the doors looked especially interesting. They were practically inhabiting a museum, how could she be expected to not look around?
She pitied Sirius to some extent, for having to grow up here. As fascinating as many of the objects were, she couldn’t even imagine living here, properly. It was so dark, and bleak, and depressing. She saw how Sirius flinched and, automatically it seemed, covered his ears with his hands every time Walburga’s portrait started hurling insults at the unlucky person standing in the hall until she was silenced. But she also saw how Professor Lupin was squeezing his thigh comfortingly under the table, when she dropped her fork and bent down to pick it back up.
Her mind had tried to play it off as a friend comforting a friend at first, but the more she thought about it the more she realised that it made sense. It explained their… oddly close reunion back at the shrieking shack over a year ago. Hermione still wasn’t entirely sure in her assumption about the true nature of Sirius and Lupin’s relationship, so she kept it to herself, promising if she found any concrete evidence she would immediately tell Harry. He deserved to know, and figured Sirius and Lupin hadn’t talked about how to tell him yet. Lupin seemed like the type of person to plan important things out completely before doing them, she was too, hence why she had decided to wait.
It was late, she knew. She wasn’t exactly sure what the time was, but it was past midnight, she was sure of that. She’d tried to read herself to sleep, but it hadn’t worked like it usually did. She’d tried just laying in the darkness counting to 100 over and over, but it hadn’t done anything. So she’d opted to walk around the house, to tire herself out a bit.
She’d wandered through the corridors of the first floor where her and Ginny’s room was located, then climbed the staircase to the second floor, where she was now. She was examining a particularly old and worn looking black door just off from the stairs when she heard voices.
She twisted round, her hand flying to her pocket and gripping her wand. She stood tensely for a second, until the voices spoke again, and she recognised the hoarse tone of her ex-professor, speaking in a low whisper to someone who could only really be Sirius. She moved a little closer to the source of the sound, recognising it as Sirius’s room. She smiled to herself, mentally adding this to her list of reasons Sirius and Lupin weren’t just friends. She saw that the door was slightly ajar, and walked silently over to it, stilling just in front of it. She was curious as to what two 35 year old men would be talking about at whatever ridiculous hour it was, so she listened intently.
“Padfoot?” Lupin spoke in a quiet whisper.
“Mmm?” Sirius sounded deep in thought.
“Thought you’d fallen asleep.”
“I’m just thinking.”
“Sickle for your thoughts?”
“It’s nothing in particular, just my mind flicking from topic to topic.”
“Those topics being?”
“You’re nosy, Moony.”
Lupin chuckled, then there was the sound of blankets rustling. They were both in the same bed. This was concrete enough for Hermione, who made a mental note to tell Harry in the morning.
“Just want to know what you’re thinking about.”
“Why?”
“Because the way your mind works interests me to no end, Padfoot.”
Hermione smiled softly at the exchange, also noting that they were really, really cute together.
“Nerd.” Sirius said, though the word was laced with affection instead of aggression.
“Idiot.” Lupin replied instantly, and it was clear from his voice that he was smiling.
“Your idiot.” Sirius corrected, and Hermione felt her cheeks flush at the undiluted intimacy she was eavesdropping on.
Lupin chuckled again. “That’s right.” His voice was husky and low, though the smile was still present. “My idiot.”
Hermione almost gasped in surprise at the possessiveness of his tone, having never expected it from Lupin, the quiet yet charming ex-professor.
Sirius however, did gasp at Lupin’s words. “Fuck.” he breathed, almost unintelligible. “Yours.”
“Mine.” Her eyes widened. That was practically a growl.
There was an almost frantic sound of rustling, and it would not take a genius to realise what was going on.
Hermione froze. She’d never anticipated them to start doing… that with her outside the door. To be fair, they didn’t exactly know that she was there, but she still expected them to throw up a silencing charm, it being the middle of the night and all. As if he read her thoughts, Lupin spoke up.
“Pass me my wand please, pads.”
Sirius seemed to take a long time in fulfilling Lupin’s request, and the soft moans emanating from the room gave a clear indication of why. Suddenly, the door closed with a soft slam, and the last thing she heard from the room was a soft murmur of “Fuck.” From Lupin, yet another shock to Hermione’s system. She’d never even thought about the professor swearing, and it just sounded so wrong coming out of his mouth. Then the noises dissipated, and she was left to silence.
She remained outside the door for a moment, her brain still trying to process all the things she just heard. She shuddered and walked as quietly as she could back down the stairs and to her room, trying to erase those gasps from her memory.