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About ten minutes later, Hermione and Peter made their way to The Three Broomsticks, where the other three were waiting.

As soon as the door closed behind them, they were enveloped in a warm rush of air that had their cold cheeks and hands tingling.

Peter spotted their friends in no time, and they walked over to join them.

Hermione couldn't help herself, and her eyes devoured the view that was so familiar from her time. The ceiling was low, a dark wood that flickered in the firelight of the many hearths that were placed around the pub, which was the busiest she had ever seen it. There were people everywhere, crammed around tables, stood in the corners. It seemed everyone had retired here to escape the cold.

“Pete!” James exclaimed, and a sliver of relief flashed across his face. He shot up straight. “Mione!”

Sirius stood up, and he reached for her when she got close enough, his warm hand encircling her waist. Hermione took his hand, and he pulled her gently into the booth to sit beside him.

“I don’t think bringing me here is a very good idea,” Remus muttered to James. His eyes had snagged on Hermione, and he felt an internal swirling of something (though what, he had no idea).

James’ eyes fixated on him. “What do you mean?”

He let his head fall back, closing his eyes and feeling the wash of people overwhelm him. His ears were assaulted with so much noise that he nearly winced, and snippets of conversations were brought to his attention, but Remus had experienced this for years; he’d learnt to tune it out.

“People,” he murmured. Though ‘person’ would be a more specific word to use. Her heartbeat thrummed, and he could hear it in the air.

James swallowed. His eyes flicked to the table, and landed on the small paper bag in front of Peter. A small frown graced his face, and he leaned across the table, reaching for it.

He peered into the top, almost secretively, like he thought it was something that he shouldn’t be seeing, but his skill and speed allowed him to steal it. Interest pulled his lips down.

“What the hell are those?” James asked, scrunching his nose up.

Peter snatched the bag back. “Debilitators.”

Sirius, who had previously had his head tilted close to Hermione’s, turned to look at his friend expectantly. “A what now?” He asked with mildness.

Pete sighed and repeated, “Debilitators!”

James and Sirius exchanged a look. Then they both shrugged, not finding the energy to bother asking what on earth it was Peter had bought this time. They were used to his random collection of thingamabobs that offered no specific use, it was just so Peter, that they gave up now- there was really no point wondering.

Remus sucked in a sharp breath, and he almost cringed when he felt four pairs of eyes shoot to him. James got to his feet abruptly, sending a dazzling smile in their general direction. He picked up his coat and scarf and said, “I’ll be right back!”

Sirius raised his eyebrows after him and called pleasantly, “Cheerio!”

Despite this aloofness, his eyes followed James all the way out of The Three Broomsticks. Then, he turned to Hermione.

His face was incredibly close to hers, and she could feel every fan of breath across her cheeks, count all of his faint freckles. His arm was still behind her, where he had put it as soon as she sat down.

“How are you, darling?”

Hermione swallowed at his low, slightly husky voice and said, “I’m cold.”

Sirius’ eyebrows quirked, and a grin pulled at his stubble coated lips.

“Really?” He exclaimed in mock surprise. “Well, lucky for you, I am extremely hot. Both literally and figuratively.”

She swatted him, and he laughed.

“You are impossibly in love with yourself.”

“Someone’s got to love me,” he pouted, and she grinned at him. Then his eyes softened and he said, “Come here.”

Hermione shuffled closer, and he wrapped both arms around her, resting his head on top of hers. He was right. And not only about how attractive he was, but Sirius seemed to be a walking radiator. In his arms, she could feel the heat sheath her. In his arms, Hermione honestly felt safe.

It was at that moment that Lily entered the pub. A whirlwind of snow escaped inside after her, and she stood on her tiptoes, chin craned up to survey the entire room, as if looking for someone.

Once she spotted them, she quickly made her way over, vivid hair flecked with white. There was a sense of urgency to her movement. When she got close enough, Lily said breathlessly, “James is in trouble.”

Hermione threw her arms up in the air, almost hitting Sirius in the eye. “He’s been gone all of five minutes!”

Peter murmured, “Well, that’s the Marauders for you.”

She grinned, and he looked almost surprised that she had heard him.

Remus, who had been quiet up until that point, raised an eyebrow. “You mean James is in trouble, or James is the trouble?”

“I mean, either he’s in trouble, or he’s going to be,” Lily stressed, and her green eyes lingered on the close proximity of Sirius and Hermione.

Sirius was abruptly alert. His arms turned rigid.

Eventually, he said, “Ah shit.”

Remus frowned at him. The desire to berate his language was clear on his face, but he was also curious as to what Sirius thought James was up to. As if sensing this burning question, Sirius glanced at him and said simply, “Snivellus.”

Hermione frowned this time. Lily’s jaw twitched.

They stood up quickly, hurrying after Lily, who led the way. The snow had slowed to a light drizzle of flakes that threatened to settle on everything they touched and the sky was overcast and littered with clouds.

“Oh,” Lily said. Her eyes were wide and she looked surprised. “I think James both is the trouble, and is in trouble.”

Hermione agreed.

James was hanging upside down, and it seemed that only one of his ankles was suspended by an invisible rope that connected to thin air. His arms were dangling, and his wand lay slack in his left grip. His face was contorted, and he looked like he would rather be anywhere else than in this confrontation.

“Listen, mate,” James was saying, and he seemed to be trying to diffuse the situation. “I wasn’t looking for a fight-”

“Spare me, Potter,” Snape snarled, and he was rabid.

“Snape-”

“What’s this, Snivellus?” Sirius interrupted loudly, strolling into the middle of it all. A crowd of students surrounded them, apprehension stark in the atmosphere. James made a strangled noise.

“What are you doing?” Remus asked, his tone urgent and blatantly disapproving. He tilted his neck back to look his friend in the eye.

“Just hanging,” James replied. He grinned. “You get it? ‘Hanging’. Because I’m hanging.”

Peter sniggered. Remus just stared at him, slightly pained.

Sirius glanced up at that and asked in a polite voice, “Would you like some help?”

James tried to shrug, although the effect was lessened due to the fact that he was upside down. “I’m rather content, you know. Just hanging. You get it, Padfoot?”

“I get it James. I got it the first time. It’s just not funny.”

James pulled a face.

But Sirius had moved on, and was prowling dangerously. His voice was silky yet left no room for discussion, as he said, “Why don’t you run along, Snivellus, and play with your snake friends?”

Snape’s eyes flashed. “Like your brother you mean?”

Sirius didn’t move. Peter looked sick, like he wanted to run over and pull Sirius and hide him away from all of this, or just run away altogether. But Peter didn’t move. Because he was half everybody else’s size, and his presence was little more than a wisp of smoke in a cloud full of grey gases.

Snape saw this as an opportunity to continue. “Your brother likes it in the Dungeons, you know. He fits in extremely well. I’m sure your mother would be very proud of him.” He spoke in a low and droning voice, the type he used as an adult. But the one he used now was dripping with excitement, like he was finding it hard to contain himself. The vindictiveness poured out of his wide, eager eyes. It seemed there was more to the vendetta between him and Sirius than anyone could fully comprehend. “How was it she shows her affections, Black? You should know, after all.”

“Severus!” Hermione shouted, feeling ill. The implications were more than clear, and Sirius winced. She lowered her wand, and moved to intervene.

Snape faltered, and he looked at her, uncertainty flashing across his face.

“Why are you doing this?” She asked, and she made sure to speak quietly once she got close enough, so that nobody else would be able to hear. “James saved your life… Why are you still carrying this pathetic feud on?”

Snape swallowed, and his eyes flicked, almost fleetingly, to Lily. He looked back at Hermione.

“You don’t understand-”

“Oh don’t I?” She said softly. “I understand that you’re a half blood. I understand that you’re in love with someone you threw away because of prejudices you don’t even believe in. I understand that you hate the boys who provoked you to do that… And believe me, I would to. But they have grown up and moved on,” Hermione stressed. “James even saved your life-”

“After he jeopardised it,” Snape pointed at Sirius, who was stricken and breathing deeply.

She paused. “Yes, I know- I know… And that was inexcusable. But there is no need to continue something that will drop away into the void of the past in less than a year.”

Snape stared at her, and there was something sad about the disconcertedness of his being. Hermione saw him then, not as Professor Snape, not as the bully, or the victim, or the half blood, but as Severus Snape, the child.

“What’s this, Snape?” A low drawl came from behind him, and a tall boy strode to join the scene. He surveyed the world with a contemptuous gaze, his eyebrows raised, his lips curled down, as though he were in constant distaste of everything around him. Platinum blonde hair fell to his shoulders, and his cool blue eyes landed on Hermione.

She couldn’t breathe.

“Don’t tell me you’re actually listening to this Mudblood?”

She couldn’t think.

Snape licked his lips and said, “What makes you say that?”

Lucius Malfoy cocked his head. “She’s dirty. You can practically see it oozing off of her.”

She couldn’t even register the insult.

Sirius growled, starting forward. “Why you little blonde fucker.”

Malfoy’s eyes narrowed on him. His face grew pink and unflatteringly blotchy, and it was clear that the events of their last encounter were still fresh on his mind. “Hello Black,” he spat. “I was hoping to run into you again. I believe our last meeting was cut unfortunately short.”

He raised his wand.

Hermione inhaled shakily. Coiling in her abdomen, was an unusual feeling, and she felt her eyes burning with hot tears. Images, devastation, flashed before her. And suddenly, she wasn’t seeing Lucius Malfoy… She was seeing Draco.

“Oh please, I’d like to see you try!” Sirius barked, brandishing his own wand, and a spell was forming and bursting from both of their lips, and Hermione barely had enough time to think, before she was spinning around to face him. She blocked the path of the spell, and it was as though she was someone else, watching the display, and herself, and the very air around it, all at once. For she felt the two spells make impact with her body. She felt the collision… And then she didn’t feel anything at all.

The only rational thought Hermione could string together as the ground loomed closer, was that Draco’s face was immensely paler when he was in shock, and that he was not in this time, and that she had just jumped in front of a spell meant for Lucius Malfoy.



oOoOoOo



“It’s all my fault!”

James’ voice wrenched her out of her sleep, but Hermione still felt foggy, like her brain had stopped working.

“Yes, it is,” Peter affirmed. In the silence that followed, she could only imagine the exasperated look that James sent him.

“One question I’d like to know however, is how do you manage to get out of everything unscathed?” Sirius asked in disbelief, from somewhere on her other side.

Remus grimaced, absentmindedly rubbing his fists, “I don’t. I nearly broke my knuckles last time.”

“That was entirely your fault for punching me. You have only yourself to blame,” he replied. Remus rolled his eyes. “And besides I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to James.”

James smiled lightly. “Because I’m nice. You should try it sometime. C'mon, compliment me. Tell me my hair looks fantastic.”

Sirius frowned and said, “But your hair looks disgusting. Did you even shower today?”

Nodding, James sucked his lips in. “That’s a great start. We can work on that.”

Hermione chose that moment to let out a pained groan. The four boys fell quiet, and they all looked at her expectantly. James looked beyond relieved as well.

She blinked a few times, gingerly, and opened her eyes. The Hospital Wing was white and sterile, and the sight of it made her groan again. This had to be a track record! She was sure she wasn’t this danger prone in her time.

They were all there. Sirius was pacing next to her, worriedly biting his thumb. Remus was slumped on a chair, and Peter seemed too anxious to do anything; he was stood at the bottom of her bed, tightly wound.

It reminded her vaguely of her very first day in the past.

“It’s all my fault!” James said immediately, covering his face with his hands.

Hermione looked at him. “What?”

He peeked through the gaps of his fingers. “If I hadn’t have provoked him, then he wouldn’t have attacked me and you wouldn’t need to have saved me and you wouldn’t be here now.”

She rubbed her head, feeling like this information was too much to process at the minute. Hermione said blearily, “Tell me that again when my mind doesn’t feel like it’s been bulldozed.”

He cringed.

“Where did you go anywhere?” She asked.

James looked confused, then realisation dawned on his face, and he pulled out a paper bag and dropped it onto the bed in front of Remus, who was sat on the other side by her feet.

The latter frowned at the bag, but made no move to pick it up. He raised his eyes to James.

Although Hermione hadn’t noticed before, Remus looked considerably paler. His skin was sickly and pallid, and his features were dark smudges on his face.

“It’s for you,” James said.

Remus licked his lips. “What is it?”

He still didn’t pick it up.

“Open it and see, why don’t you?” Sirius suggested forcefully.

Albeit hesitantly, and with an expression that hinted he really did not want to do what he was doing, Remus emptied the bag onto the covers. Inside, were six large chocolate bars- the ones he and Hermione had been staring at earlier.

He went tense. He pushed them away and didn’t look at James. “You know I can’t eat these.”

“I know you want to,” James said.

Remus shook his head. “You didn’t have to do that…”

“Do what?”

“Go out of your way for me,” he explained awkwardly. “Buy them for me…”

James seemed puzzled. “It’s just chocolate.”

Hermione was struck then by the fact that James Potter was an obvious Pureblood. He had clearly been raised in a family where wealth had always been no question, and he could buy whatever he wanted and dare to dream about the expenses of the world. To Remus, a boy who practically thrived off of self-pity and self-hatred, this was too big of a deal. To James, it was nothing whatsoever.

Remus hastily shoved the chocolates back into the bag. He stood up, avoiding everyone’s gaze, and said something about a homework task he had to finish, and then something else in welsh that sounded like, “Mae'n ddrwg gennyf,” before he disappeared.

Peter hopped to his feet, and his eyes followed his friend. He looked back at Hermione, an apology burning his lips.

“Go,” she said. The worry in his eyes was evident.

He followed Remus.

James shot back to her, and he looked so guilty that he practically seeped distress. It wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t meant to be cornered by Snape. He didn’t force her to step into the oncoming spell. That was all her.

To say she was the Brightest Witch of her Age, she was pretty stupid sometimes.

Hermione put her hand on his.

“I didn’t want to tell you earlier,” she said. “I wanted you to find out for yourself… But Harry’s on the Quidditch team, as well.” James’ head perked up, and his eyes and mouth widened. “Youngest Seeker in a century, actually.”

Hermione smiled as she saw the pride shining on his face. He looked in awe of his son, and something inside of her ached at the thought of just how proud he would be if he truly knew Harry.

“My son?” James echoed. “Harry? My son! Youngest bloody Seeker in a century! Y’hear that Padfoot?”

“I hear it, Prongs,” Sirius confirmed, and he was smiling slightly.

She laughed, as James jumped to his feet, hands on his head in disbelief. A surprised but euphoric sound escaped his lips as he said again, “Youngest Seeker in a century…”

“He was brilliant,” Hermione continued, feeling the words fall from her mouth. “Never lost a game, unless he was injured or sabotaged! And then he was Captain in his sixth year, and he was such a great leader, James! You should’ve seen him!”

James had tears in his eyes; he was enraptured. She licked her lips. “You should’ve seen him…”

A stray tear fell when he blinked, and James said earnestly, “I will. Okay, Hermione? I will. We’ll do it right, this time. I promise. I’ll see him. I’ll watch him grow up. I promise.”

Hermione nodded. But she wasn’t sure whether what he was proposing was even possible.

He stood up, biting his lip and raking a hand through his damp hair. Offering her an uneasy smile, he opened his mouth to speak, but the words died on his tongue.

Hermione understood anyway, and she nodded again, smiling. James swallowed, before he turned and left.

Now, it was just Hermione and Sirius.

He didn’t look at her as he said, “I’m sorry I nearly killed you.”

She snorted. “You do like to over exaggerate things.”

Sirius didn’t look amused.

“You didn’t nearly kill me,” she started.

“You don’t know that! I could’ve used any spell, Hermione! And I know some pretty dark stuff!”

Hermione licked her lips. Her chest felt heavy. “Yes, but you wouldn’t use any of it.”

And his face crumped. This was what he was truly upset about. “How do you know that? How do you know I won’t use it? I wanted to hurt Malfoy today for calling you that word! I wanted to make him suffer! I could be just as bad as they are, worse even! How do you know I’m not?”

“Because I know Sirius Black!” Hermione burst out. Her voice was high and strained and the passion and agitation leaked out of her. “I know how brave and how loyal and how loving Sirius Black truly is, and I refuse to let you taint him! I won’t let you!”

Sirius stared at her. It was the most she had ever said about any of their futures. Of course, she told them a lot of James’ (and the truth made him shiver and shake with the draining sensation of a nightmare), but this was the first time she had ever mentioned his.

“I won’t let you, Sirius Black,” Hermione said. “Because you are a good man. You are the best man I ever knew, and I am not going to let you fall, okay? I’m not! I refuse to.”