The Light

End

End

Ten Years Later

The platform was an explosion of life; of loud, boisterous laughs that erupted from throats, crackling the air, and murmurs of conversation, which she only caught snippets of as she came out of the wall.

Hermione felt the smile pull at her lips.

The Hogwarts Express, that vibrant red, stood proudly, pulled up at the station and though they weren't late, some children had already started to board; their beaming faces peering from the windows. Steam billowed from the chimney, and the thrum of excitement danced with the horn. She felt her bones settle. This was the sight that had started it all; this was the beginning of adventure. It was the pinnacle of magic.

"Woah!"

She stumbled as someone collided with her back, and she felt hands reach out to steady her. Hermione spun round and she came face to face with a sheepish Remus Lupin. His cheeks were tinged pink, his hair cut short but still that golden colour; the same colour as his eyes, which were wide as they looked at her.

"I'm sorry," he said.

She opened her mouth to reply, but all that left her lips was a short laugh, and she flopped her head onto his shoulder, grinning. Remus leaned his head into hers. He was smiling.

"Honestly, you're still as mad as a box of frogs," he murmured. Then added, mock-indignantly, "It was your fault. You were in the way."

"Charming," she replied, stepping back, though she was still grinning. He raised his eyebrows in amusement at her, and they stared at one another for only a few seconds longer when they were both nearly taken out.

The three bodies, their limbs tangled, and groans of pain mingled, barrelled into the opposite wall.

"What kind of plonker stands in front of the entrance?" Sirius Black demanded incredulously, detangling himself from the pair of them and straightening his leather jacket. "Or should I make that plural?"

Hermione and Remus shared a look and could not stop themselves from laughing. Sirius cast them both an exasperated glance, but he allowed himself a small smirk.

He had grown out his hair, so it now reached his shoulders, and he looked no older than he had the day Hermione had fallen from the ceiling and onto his lap. There was a maturity to him, and his skin was kissed with age, but he retained that youthful glimmer in his dark eyes.

Remus, in contrast, had perpetual crinkles by his eyes and lips, and his freckles seemed to have multiplied, like a galaxy expanding. He was still young, and he was not the grey tired Professor Hermione once knew, looking forty when he barely touched thirty, because he had not grown up lonely; his bones were young because he had been loved, and had loved so fully in return, that age seemed to suit him, like a well-worn jumper that smelt only of home.

"Honestly," Sirius said.

Remus raised his eyebrows at her. He was fixing his cardigan, and his fringe tickled his eyelashes. Hermione beamed at him.

"What are the three of you doing?"

They spun round to see James Potter staring at them, accusation narrowing his eyes. He was pushing a trolley, which was piled high with a Hogwarts trunk and a cage containing the most beautiful snowy owl Hermione had ever seen. Hedwig twittered irritably.

"I already have two children. I don't need the added responsibility of you lot as well," he said, and though he seemed resigned that he had to tell them off, there was no mistaking the fondness behind his square glasses.