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Chapter Text

She supposed in hindsight it all began on the day Voldemort fell. On the day that Harry defeated him at Hogwarts for the entire world to see. All of a sudden, it was all over; the war that had been raging in the public light for the better part of the last two years, but behind the scenes from a time before she was even born.

Voldemort was dead, and that should have been the end of it. It should have been over when he fell. That’s what they all thought would happen. That the only thing left would be to clean up the mess that was left behind. To round up all the rogue Death Eaters, and toss them in Azkaban to rot for the rest of their lives. To repair the damage done to the wizarding world. To rebuild the school, the Ministry of Magic, and all the other places that had been badly damaged through all the fighting and battles. To re-elect a new Minister of Magic, one who was not a puppet as those behind him had been. Fudge to those with the deepest pockets. Scrimgeour to the public who tried to keep the Death Eater population by any means necessary, even recruiting a barely legal teenager to be the official mascot of the Ministry. Or Thicknesse, who was nothing more than a puppet for Voldemort, whose strings were pulled in any direction he so chose.

But now should have been a time for change, with a Minister who restored peace, and let their world heal together. A minister who opposed the way that things had been before, and who wanted the wizarding world to try and recover from the horrors they had endured under Voldemort’s reign and terror.

Except that was the opposite of what happened, except, she supposed, for the structural repairs the world underwent. Those were unavoidable, regardless of how the outcome of the war went.

No Death Eaters were thrown into Azkaban. Instead, they weaselled their ways out. They feigned innocence, claiming to have done the things they did out of fear that if they did not, it would have been far worse for them. They claimed their families and bloodlines were threatened. They claimed that they were horrified, and had no idea why Voldemort went as far as he did. And they had all the proof they needed of Voldemort’s crimes. For where once stood nearly two hundred wizarding families, now stood less than a quarter of that number. The wizarding population had declined rapidly, and it was the most troubling thing of all.

In hindsight, she knew that was the basis of the war that was to come.

The new Minister of Magic was not the one she had hoped. She had hoped Kingsley would take over, denouncing the actions of Voldemort, and trying to reunite them all. She had hoped that once he took office, he would begin to push legislation to save them, to make it so that such a thing never happened again.

Instead, to her utter disbelief, it was Lucius Malfoy who took office. Lucius Malfoy, who had all but forced his son to become a Death Eater, by him and Voldemort holding Narcissa as a hostage. Lucius Malfoy who dropped a horcrux in the cauldron of a girl who was eleven. Lucius, who fought them at fifteen and sixteen at the Ministry of Magic openly. Who had housed Voldemort in his home for nearly two years. Who had watched her be tortured in his own home, only encouraging it further. Lucius Malfoy, who was a Death Eater to his very core. He was the one who became the Minister of Magic, claiming that he knew how dark the old ways had been and that he would bring them into a new era of peace.

It had disgusted her to no end.

She had been vocally opposed to the appointment. But she was barely nineteen years old. She had no family influence, and hadn’t even completed her NEWTs. She was Hermione Granger, a no body with no education, and her words were not taken seriously.

She had hoped that Harry’s would, for he was the one who saved them all for Voldemort. He was the one who defeated him in the end. The wizarding world had to listen to the Chosen One, didn’t they? But they didn’t. They told him Lucius had reformed. That he never wanted any part in the war. That none of the Death Eaters did. But it was either join, or face death.

Hermione still thought that personally, given the choice, she would have chosen death.

And so, they rose from the ashes. They didn’t have to hide behind Voldemort’s shadow any longer. The Death Eaters reclaimed their former places in the world, and somehow, it felt as if nothing had changed. That Voldemort hadn’t been around for the last three years, killing everyone and anyone who opposed them. As if she hadn’t spent the last year of her life on the run, not sure if she would ever see the end of the war.

Now they held those positions, and pretended it was a time of peace. They pretended that the legislation they were pushing was for the benefit of the wizarding world.

And maybe in the beginning it had been. The legislation started off small. If a person in the wizarding world joined from the muggle world, as in a muggleborn, their parents were not to be told that their child was magical.

It was meant to strengthen the statute of secrecy, they claimed. For given the devastation they had just faced, they needed to preserve their numbers. And the members of Wizengamot used the excuses of muggle war tactics.

Which, she could hardly argue against. Given nuclear bombs, the muggle world could easily wipe out the wizarding world with a single drop of a bomb. She knew it was unlikely to happen. The statute had been preserved for years. What difference did it make if some muggleborn’s parents knew about their child and their abilities?

It was a scare tactic, but the problem was that it worked. All it took was some devastating post world war two pictures in the Daily Prophet, and all of a sudden there was a widespread acceptance of the law. It didn’t matter that she opposed it. It didn’t matter that Harry tried to argue against it. It didn’t matter.

The next stage, she supposed, happened in small steps. She had barely begun to notice the pattern before it had happened to her. At twenty years old, she was working in the Department of Mysteries. At twenty-one she was well on her way to working herself up the ranks, already as a Junior Unspeakable. It would have been a few more years before she was given the rank of Unspeakable at all.

But that was before the Ministry started dismissing muggleborns in any positions that were high up. They didn’t give any official reasoning, just giving the standard “failure to meet guidelines” or other garbage they came up to justify why they were doing so. It was absolute shite. It was their way, the Death Eater’s way, of officially making sure muggleborns were kept in their place; well below purebloods, and even half-bloods.

She didn’t blame the faction of muggleborns that rebelled afterwards. How could she, when all she wanted to do was join them on the streets. All she wanted to do was protest loudly, hoping someone would finally hear them.

She wasn’t allowed to give her parents their memory back, not unless she was also oblivated and joined them in the muggle world. She wasn’t allowed to work. She wasn’t allowed to speak out, and let her voice be heard, because no one was listening. Or perhaps they just didn’t care. That’s what happens, she supposed, when the majority of Wizengamot seats were held by former Death Eaters, who despite what they claimed, still very much believed in blood purity, and making sure those they believed were below them stayed in their place.

It was why a few of them started riots on the streets. And when the Aurors were dispatched, it led to a bloody battle. And while the number of muggleborns that were killed, despite how high it was, it was insignificant. Not when the number of pure and halfblood deaths were in the double digits.

Not when the wizarding world was already facing so many losses to their numbers.

It was why the Wizengamot had pushed the emergency legislation to make it such that Aurors had the power to arrest anyone they believed to be conspiring to ruin the peace, especially when they used fear mongering that they would expose them to the muggle world, when the muggles eventually noticed the blasts each day, and the other acts of terror the muggleborns and rebelling factions were accused of.

The only jobs available were jobs she never would have dreamed of holding as a child. The jobs were the lowest of the low; cleaning wizards, wizards who were essentially no more than house-elves, working for families, for less than a galleon a day, well beyond any sort of minimum wage that was needed to survive. They got jobs which magic easily could be used to complete, but they were not allowed to use to earn their keep. And those were the ones that were pleasant. Of course, if any muggleborns wanted to make more, they could always serve as a personal whore for any of those of worthy statuses. And it broke her heart how many of them turned to that option, just hoping to make enough to survive.

It was meant to drive them out. To drive out anyone without any wizarding family or name to fall back on. For people like her who did not have a vault in Gringotts full of a fortune left to her by generations of family before her. To show her that she did not belong in this new world, of what was essentially slavery.

 Ron had offered to marry her, trying to be helpful, for it would mean that she could use the Weasley name to try and sustain herself, but she refused. She loved her friend too much to make him give up a life of genuine happiness with someone he would actually love.

It didn’t turn into a war until a few months later, when the newest law was passed. One which prevented muggleborns from entering the wizarding world all together. They had claimed muggleborns to be too dangerous to their fragile society, citing the recent examples of muggleborns just trying to make sure they had the bare minimum resources to survive. Muggleborns were all but slaves to their pureblood counterparts, working for their amusement.

She wanted to leave it all behind, to go to the muggle world and give up. But her friends wouldn’t let her. The Order wouldn’t let her. Because it wasn’t just muggleborns who had a lot to lose in this war. It was the entire wizarding world. There was already such a low population, and with all the inbreeding that would occur without new additions of blood into old lines, or even just marrying those of lesser statuses, the wizarding world would die out. Maybe not now, or in a decade, but easily within a few generations.

So, they fought. They fought back every day, for the last year. But if anything, they were losing more and more ground every day. Those muggleborns that remained were now being paid mot with money, but with housing and food, despite the living conditions being deplorable, and were facing malnutrition.

And anyone, even of being suspected of being a threat to the peace, was immediately locked up. Or so they claimed. Hermione was pretty sure they were just being Avada-ed and their bodies vanished.

Voldemort may have devastated the wizarding world, but it was the actions of his Death Eaters using politics and dirty tricks which they never would recover from. Even now, she feared it was too late.

They had already suffered so many losses, fighting each day, and honestly, Hermione was surprised they had lasted anywhere near as long as they did.

They had lost so many people they cared about in such a short time. Those who had survived Voldemort’s reign, had all but fallen during this new supremacy state of government.

She had lost Andromeda, Teddy, as he was the son of a halfbreed, Kingsley, who she was pretty sure was killed in a political assassination before this all began, McGonagall who had been very vocal about her displeasure of this all, and so many others she had considered to be family.

But what had hurt the most, was Ron. It still broke her heart, just thinking about it, seeing his body sprawled out on the ground, broken and mangled. All because he had disagreed with the Ministry. All because he was fighting for people like her.

In the end, it wasn’t about her anyways. It was about pureblood supremacists believing they were at the top, and at the end of the day the rest of them were below them.

She wanted to believe that they had a chance to fight against this. That they would be able to recover.

But she knew it was too late. The point of no return was that battle of May 1998. On that day, they could have gone two different ways. They could have saved the world, and tried to heal and recover. Or they could have gone down the path they did now.

“You don’t have to do this, Hermione,” she heard a voice call to her, and she was broken out of the rumination she was in.

She looked up at Harry, watching him limp through the room, as she felt her throat tighten. She stood in front of the cauldron, which was bubbling a vivid green colour, as it waited on its final ingredients.

“You and I both know that we need to, Harry,” she said softly, “The war is all but over. There’s no one left to fight against this. It’s just us now. And when we’re gone, there’s no one to oppose this new world we’re living in. There’s no one who will fight the injustice. They’re all dead, or have given up. We can’t give up not. Not when we fought for so long against this. Not when we all know that none of us, wizarding population alike, will survive if we go down this current path.”

“I know,” Harry let out a deep sigh, as he ran his hand through his hair. “I know. I just wish it didn’t have to come to this.”

“It should be you, you know,” she said softly, looking up at him. “It’s your family. It’s not fair for me to go back, and live among them. Not when you never had to chance to grow up with your parents.”

He smiled at her, in a heartbreaking kind of way, “I don’t know if I could. How do I live among my father and his friends, knowing the things that I do? How do I see Peter Pettigrew every day, and not kill him on the spot for the things he did to my parents, and to Sirius and Remus? I can’t do it, Hermione.  We both know my emotions would get in the way, and ruin the entire mission. But you’ve always been the logical one. The one who could see pat things like that and do what needed to be done when it came down to it. You need to be the one who goes back and changes the past.”

“I know,” she said, looking down, filled with pain and with dread. It wasn’t an easy decision to come to, that they only solution would be to go back in time and change the outcome of the war. To stop the things that had happened from happening. It wasn’t enough to go back to May 1998, for the seed of hate was already deeply imbued, and the damage of the war was too much to recover from. No, they needed to go back even further, to the time of the height of Voldemort’s power, during the first world war, and stop it then itself.

“All that’s missing is the drops of blood, to tie us to the families we will be returning to,” Hermione murmured. “You could have cast it too, you know. Your grandmother was a Black.”

“I know,” he said. “But it won’t be my blood we’re using. Are you sure that he’s the right choice for this? After everything that’s happened?”

She looked up, to see Harry gesturing to Draco Malfoy, who was entering the room, holding the knife they needed to cut their hands.

“Still having doubts, Potter?” Malfoy drawled, looking more annoyed than anything else. “For Salazar’s sake, Potter. We both know why I’m going back. We both know I’ve been on your side fighting against my Father and his regime for the better part of this war.”

“What if you’re a spy?” Harry snapped. “What if you’re the one who has been reporting to your father this entire time. What if this is your attempt to sabotage the last chance we have of saving us all?”

“You wouldn’t even have this bloody ritual if it weren’t for me!” Malfoy spat. “I’m the one who got it for you from the Black family library! It’s my family magic that will allow it to work! We both know I am not a spy for my father! Not after Bellatrix killed my mother for telling Voldmort you were not dead in that forest. Not after my father stood back and watched it, only saying he was glad to be rid of a traitor after it was over. I want nothing to do with my father, Potter.”

“We know,” Hermione said quickly, giving Harry a dirty look. It would do no good to alienate Malfoy now. He was right, he was the one who brought the ritual to them. He was the one who had suggested it. He was the one who fought by her side in their battles of rebellion against his father’s system. She may not like him, but she trusted he was on their side.

“We should cast this soon,” Malfoy said glancing around the room. “It’s only a matter of time before they track us to this location. And if they do before we’re gone, it’s over. This is our only chance of casting it.”

“Did you decide which side of your family you’re returning to?” Hermione asked him softly. It was different for her, she didn’t have a non-extinct pureblood family line to return to. It was why she and Harry had performed a blood ritual earlier, one which allowed her to be formally adopted into the Potter family. It wasn’t an uncommon ritual, often used by pureblood families to adopt children into their family, to be able to maintain their bloodlines and purity. So for all intents and purposes, Hermione was a Potter. Which she would need to be, for the ritual to work, and for her to be sent back to the Potter family as their daughter.

“The Blacks,” Draco said quietly. “My father is beyond saving. I don’t think anything will sway him from the path he chose. But as a Black I can save more people. I can stop my mother from marrying him. I can stop the tragic fate of the Black family from dying out as they did.”

Hermione nodded, agreeing with his choice. It would be easier too, given that Draco’s future (or past, she supposed) cousin, Sirius, would be the best friend of her soon to be brother. They would need to communicate, and the simpler the lie, the better.

She thought about it, how insane it was, when Malfoy had found but dismissed thoughts of the ritual. But how she and Harry had fought for it, knowing it was their only chance.

“So what,” Malfoy had said, incredulously. The offer for the ritual was a long shot, never meant to actually come to pass. And it was clear that Malfoy could not believe that she and Harry actually going along with the plan. “We just go back to 1972 and wait around for a decade for Voldemort to try and kill your boyfriend’s parents?”

Hermione rolled her eyes, not bothering to rise to the taunt. She knew he was more scared than anything else.

“No, we be smart. The war ended in 1981, but it reached its peak in the 1970s. It was when Voldemort rallied his followers, half of whom are causing the damage out there right now. So, we be smart, we gain friendships and alliances, making sure he doesn’t get half the support he did have the first time. We make sure he doesn’t get half the political advantage he had. Obviously, the only thing that will bring him down is making sure his horcruxes are destroyed. And while not all of those are created, the ones that already have been made will not be in circulation until the late 1970s when everyone has made their stance already. So, we use the beginning to make sure his numbers never reach what they were. We make sure certain friendships are never severed, and make sure others are exposed for the lies they are. And we make sure when Voldemort goes down, this time for good, so do his Death Eaters.”

“It’s time,” Harry said, looking out the window, and Hermione sensed the wards around the place slowly being breached.

“You know,” Hermione said with a watery laugh, looking at her friend. “If this works, the next time I see you, I’ll be your aunt.”

And it was true. If she succeeded, and Voldmort fell before James and Lily died, she would see Harry the next time when he was born in 1980.

There was no coming back from this; she would be there to stay, alongside Malfoy. And it should have hurt her more, knowing she would be losing her best friend. But they would all be dead if she stayed, and it drove her forward.

“I’m sure you’ll be my favourite Aunt,” Harry smiled, hugging her tightly. “I believe in you, Hermione. If anyone can succeed at this brilliant and completely insane plan, it would be you.”

She nodded, unable to say anything else. When she pulled away, she saw Malfoy handing her the blade which had been in his family for many generations. The very knife that had carved those horrid words into her skin. If she succeeded and they went back, she knew the words would be removed from her body.

She took the knife gingerly, and sliced her palm, pouring a few drops of blood into the boiling cauldron.

Malfoy took the knife from her and started to cut his pale while palm.

“Hurry,” Harry urged, “The wards are nearly down. They’ll be inside the building any minute now.”

She heard the walls beginning to rattle, and she knew that the Aurors would be inside the building soon, and if she was still there when they came in, it would mean their instant death.

He took his hand and poured his blood into the cauldron.

She pressed her cut palm to Malfoy’s, and closed her eyes.

“Tergum in Tempus,” she chanted, as Malfoy chanted simultaneously. She felt the magic begin to circle around her, encompassing her. She repeated the words, as she saw golden strands begin to circle them both.

She heard a loud bang, as the door was blasted open, Aurors filling into the room, wands pointed at them. She was grateful for the brief moment of surprise on their faces, unsure of what to make of the scene in front of them. But once they came to, it was too late. Hermione and Draco had gone back to 1972, and hopefully this time, things would go far differently. The fate of the Wizarding world depended on it.

Chapter Text

It seemed like mere moments to her; one moment she was standing in an abandoned Order base, casting the ritual that would send Malfoy and her back in time

And the next thing Hermione knew, she was waking up in a rather large bed, the sunlight hitting her face.

She blinked, as she looked around her surroundings. She sat up in the bed, looking around the room, and she felt herself smiling sadly.

It had worked.

They had gone back in time to 1972, and here she would remain for the rest of her life.

It wouldn’t be easy; she was going from being twenty-one, to being eleven. She would have to retake all her classes, and feign ignorance of the spells she already knew. She would need to sit with her classmates, day after day, knowing that if she failed that they would all be dead in the near future.

She swallowed, trying to push the thought out of her mind. She had time; she and Malfoy both did. They would fix this; they had to.

“Are you still in bed?” she heard an excited voice call out, as her door was thrown open. “Merlin, Hermione. It’s nearly nine. You and I both know mum will throw a fit if we’re not ready to go to the station by ten.”

She looked up, to see James Potter standing in front of her. At twelve years old, she could see why Harry was compared so heavily to his father. With the mere exception of his eyes, he resembled her friend in more ways than one. It was almost as if she were staring at a copy.

“Did you forget?” James frowned, “Hermione? You know you’re starting Hogwarts today right? I thought you would be more excited than this. It’s all you’ve talked about for the last two months.”

“I am!” she said hurriedly, as she jumped out of bed. Merlin, it sure was weird being back in the body of her eleven year old self. When she was so used to having an adult body, having that of a child was strange indeed.

Her only saving grace was that despite keeping her memories, the ritual had not only physically de-aged her, but also mentally. It certainly would make interacting with her peers easier.

“Good,” James grinned at her, “Come on now. Mum got the elves to make us a special breakfast for our last day of summer. Personally, I think she’s heartbroken that you’re leaving too and both her children are at Hogwarts. Hurry up and change, and we’ll go down to breakfast.”

Hermione looked down at her night clothes, and nodded quickly. There was so much to do already, and she knew that it wasn’t necessary to fix the past in a day, nor was it possible, the last thing she wanted to do was get off to a late start.

She stood in front of the mirror, staring at her appearance. She wasn’t sure what she expected if she were being honest. Her hair was still as curly as it had been before, and she supposed she could blame the unruliness of Harry’s hair for that. It was a slightly darker brown, and she attributed that to Fleamont’s family. The Potters generally had dark brown or black hair, and she knew from pictures of Harry’s family which he had got from his family home, that the black hair he and James held came from the Black bloodlines that their mother held.

Hermione could still recognize herself, and the thought that Hermione Granger was still somewhere inside her, deep down, filled her with a sense of joy. While she had gained a new family, knowing that she held a part of who she once was, was reassuring.

She looked around the room at the mementos and toys that filled it. There were shelves of books which she knew to be all hers. There were photos of her and James at various ages.

She smiled, as her mind flashed with memories of a childhood the ritual had given her. Memories of her and her brother spending long hours playing games. Memories of her mother teaching her how to bake, and loving her at every turn. Memories of her father reading to her each night. Memories of a childhood filled with love and with joy. Memories she never got to experience, but were very much real in this new world she had created.

It was going to be a strange experience, and definitely would take some time to adjust. But knowing that the Potters were there for her, that they loved her, definitely made her feel slightly less alone. Even if she was only born into their family because of a spell. At least they wanted her.

She wasn’t sure why she was nervous. She already knew how the sorting worked. She already knew that she was a Gryffindor, and that she could ask the hat to put her back there. But it didn’t stop her from worrying.

What if the war had left her too damaged? What if the war had broken her too much? What if the things she had done, seen, lived through, made her no longer pure of heart? What if it no longer was enough, and she was sorted into Slytherin? It would definitely throw a wrench into their plans.

“Jamie,” she whispered softly, using the nickname she had for her brother, as she stood beside her brother on the platform. Her parents were slightly behind them.

“What is it?” he asked her, as he turned to face her. “Hermione? Is everything okay?”

“What if I’m not a Gryffindor? What if I’m sorted somewhere else?” she asked, feeling worry fill her chest. She cursed her mind, for acting so childish. But it didn’t stop the fear.

“Like Ravenclaw?” he frowned, “Because honestly I could see you being put there.”

She didn’t meet his eyes. “Will it change anything? You’ll still talk to me right, even if I’m somewhere else? What if I’m in Slytherin? Will you hate me?”

He shook his head quickly, as he wrapped his arms around her tightly. “Hermione, I could never hate you. I don’t care if you’re in Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or Slytherin. I obviously want you in Gryffindor so you can be with me, but you’re my little sister. I don’t care which house you’re in. Nothing can keep me from being your brother and loving you.”

She smiled softly, “I love you too, Jamie.”

Their parents made their way over to them, just then. “You too better get on the train soon,” Fleamont said, smiling tightly. “Otherwise you’ll miss it.”

“I’m going to miss you both so much,” Euphemia said, as she pulled Hermione and James into a tight hug.

“Will you write to me?” Hermione felt herself asking, worriedly.

“Every day,” Fleamont promised her, kissing her on the head.

“You don’t have to write to me as often,” James tried to say quickly, as he wriggled free from their mother. He tried to seem nonchalant about it, but she knew as well as he did that he secretly loved the letters from home.

“Get on the train you two,” Euphemia said, with a smile, “Give our love to your friends, James. And Hermione, no matter what house you’re in, know that I am proud of you.”

“Bye Mum!” James shouted, as the train began to whistle. He took her hand and pulled her aboard. “Come on, Hermione! I can’t wait for you to meet my friends.”

She followed him down the aisle of the train, until they stopped by a compartment. James threw open the door, and she was met with the sight of three boys sitting there. Three boys who she had seen pictures of as kids, and whom she had known as adults, torn and aged by the war.

“Boys, this is my sister, Hermione,” James introduced her proudly, grinning at them. “Hermione, this is Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew. My fellow dorm mates, and Marauders.”

She wrinkled her nose, “Is that what you call yourselves?”

Sirius smirked at her, “I told him it was weird to name ourselves.”

“I think it’s great!” Peter said enthusiastically, and Hermione looked over at the chubby boy for the first time. This would be the boy who sold out his best friends, for the sake of power and survival.

She felt anger bubbling inside her chest, as she tried to push it down. It was easier to think about what happened when she was in the future. When she was Hermione Granger and it was a story. But having the memories she held for her brother, and meeting his friends, hurt. She could see why Sirius and Remus tried to kill Peter that day at the Whomping Willow. The pain of the betrayal stung.

Sirius took her hand then, and kissed it, and she felt herself blushing.

“It’s an honour to meet you, Hermione,” Sirius said, “Your brother told us many tales of you in the last year.”

“Hopefully nothing embarrassing,” she said, shooting her brother a look.

Remus grinned, with a smile that didn’t completely meet his eyes. She could see his arms, filled with scars and the lack of sleep on his face. She wondered if her brother and his friends knew Remus’ secret yet, or if they had yet to discover it.

James laughed in turn, and the compartment filled with laughter and chatter, as the boys began catching up on their summers and the things they had done.

It was strange in many ways, sitting beside her brother and his friends. Seeing them all so young, and full of life.

Seeing James, a man she had never known, and whose death had saved her best friend, but also left him with a shadow of pain for never being able to know his parents. Seeing Sirius, carefree, as a man who had not yet made a decision to trust the wrong man, and in turn, spent thirteen years in Azkaban for a crime he did not commit, knowing his decision had led to the of James and Lily. Seeing Remus, haunted by carrying a secret, reserved, and not as comfortable around his friend’s presence as she knew him to later be. Seeing Peter, a boy who clearly was trying to impress his friends, who clearly admired them greatly, become a murderer and a Death Eater who would betray them all.

“Will you be okay here, for a bit, Hermione?” James asked her, breaking her out of her thoughts.

“Hm?” she asked, looking up at her brother.

“We’re going to go look for some people,” he said quickly, realizing she hadn’t heard what she could only assumed to be a prank he was about to pull. It was for the best really, because at least it gave her plausible deniability if her mother asked her about it.

“I will be,” she grinned. “I have a book. And I might go exploring in a bit.”

He nodded, “Good. You can meet some people too.”

Which was the plan, really. She needed to go find Malfoy, and make sure that he also arrived safely to the past.

She waited for him to leave, and counted to thirty, before opening the cabin door. It was time to make sure that their mission was off to a smooth start.

Draco sat beside his mother on the train. It felt surreal, waking up that morning, in the same body he had as a child, as Kreature woke him up. Apparently his side of the Black family stayed with Orion and Walburga before Hogwarts as it was closer to Diagon Alley by floo, and so only one set of parents needed to take the kids to school.

It was ever so slightly impersonal, but he knew it was the way it always happened, from his memories of a childhood he never had. Not that it differed too much from what he was expecting. After all, he was the younger brother of his sisters, his once crazy aunt Bellatrix, his cut off aunt Andromeda, and his dead mother Narcissa. Surreal was not enough to encompass how he felt.

The moment they boarded the train, Andromeda had gone off to see her classmates. Sirius had gone off to see the friends, his parents vocally disapproved of. Narcissa took pity on him and Regulus, as they knew no one yet, and let them sit with her until she went off to the prefect meeting. She had worn the badge proudly that morning, and he remembered her excitement when it came in the post a month ago.

Regulus had, however, gotten bored, and gone off to meet some of the friends he had already from growing up alongside proper families, leaving him and his mother, well now sister, alone in the cabin.

“Well it’s time for the meeting,” Narcissa said, closing her book. “Are you sure you’ll be okay here, on your own, Draco?”

He smiled, nodding at his mother, sister. “I’ll be fine Narcissa. I might even join Regulus in a bit.”

She seemed satisfied with his answer. “Good. If I don’t come back before we arrive, then I’ll see you after you’re sorted into our house.”

She closed the door behind her, and Draco opened his book once more. He knew it was only a matter of time before Granger eventually sought him out, eager to see if he had made it back properly. It was in her nature, and he knew she wouldn’t be able to help herself.

He didn’t even need to wait long. He had barely made it through a page of his book before she arrived, opening the door of the cabin and entering. She put up a silencing spell over the cabin before even greeting him, and he couldn’t help but shake his head.

“Was everything okay this morning?” Granger asked, looking at him. “Huh, I would have thought you would have had black hair, to match your family.”

“My mother is naturally blonde,” he reminded her, “I guess it was there somewhere in the family line so the ritual allowed me to keep my hair colour. Yours still looks like the mess it always was. I guess the Potter bloodline couldn’t fix that, seeing how atrocious theirs is as well. But you’re not here to talk about our appearances. Did anyone see you come in here?”

She shook her head, rolling her eyes at him. “Of course not, Malfoy. I made sure there was no one around. We’re in the clear.”

“Black,” he corrected her. “It’s not Malfoy anymore, it’s Black.”

She frowned, “That might take a bit of work to adjust to.”

He nodded, “It’s strange to think about. You’re Potter now, not Granger.”

“I mean, we could just call each other by our first names,” She said, rolling her eyes again at him.

“We could,” he amended, despite having no plans of doing so anytime soon. He supposed he should be more agreeable. They were the only two who knew what was to come. The only two who could change it. “So what’s our first plan, Potter?”

She sighed, “We can’t change things right away. Not if we don’t have a place yet. We need to get sorted into our respected houses, and make sure we’re trusted. If I’m to make sure the Gryffindors trust me and make sure certain things never happen, I need to be their friends. The same with you. You need to ensure your family trusts you, so that when the time comes they’ll listen to you. You need to make sure the Slytherins respect you.”

“I agree,” he said, nodding. “But how do we know which people to save? Who is worth our effort, and which lives will make a difference in the end?”

“We try to save as many as possible,” she said plainly, “I know we won’t be able to save them all. I’m not unrealistic. But there are a few lives we need to make sure do not go down the paths they do. I wrote down a list of events that need to change. Key events which made it so that Voldemort reached the power he did. Events that cannot have the same outcome.”

She pulled out a notebook from her robes and handed it to him.

“You wrote down what happens in the future?” he asked her, somewhat incredulously. “Isn’t that extremely dangerous? What if a Death Eater gets their hands on it, and hands it directly to Voldemort? He’ll either think us to be seers or time travellers, and it would endanger everything!”

“How reckless do you think I am?” she snapped, “Of course I thought of that! I hexed the book so that only our magical signatures can read it, and if anyone else tries, it seems like a boring set of instructions on how to brew a cough potion. No one will ever find this.”

He seemed sceptical, but she was Hermione Granger. If anyone was capable of thinking through the consequences, it would be her.

He looked it over, checking the events she had listed as critical. She had listed several dates of deaths, dates of attacks. Consequences of various actions carried out by their families. Consequences of betrayals.

“And we’re to change all this?” he asked, looking up at her. “Even though some of these are the result of years of beliefs?”

“We have to try,” she said softly. “It’s not going to be easy, Draco. But we need to do our very best to make sure that these events never come to pass. The future depends on it. All our lives depend on it.”

He nodded, closing the notebook and handing it back to her. He could feel the train begin to slow.

“We’re here,” Granger said, standing up and cancelling her spells on the cabin. I should go before anyone sees us together. We need an excuse later to meet, but for now we need to keep it secret. Especially given the current standings of our families. We need to come up with a better excuse.”

“I’ll think of some things,” he told her, as she nodded at him.

But for now, they had arrived at Hogwarts, and it was time to being their mission.

Hermione stood in the Great Hall, nineteen years before the first time she would have stood there. She looked around the room, filled with amazement just like she had the first time around. It always took her breath away, just how beautiful the school was.

She listened, as Professor McGonagall began to call out names.

“Black, Draco,” she heard the professor say, as Malfoy made his way up to the stool. He had a cool expression on his face, and she wondered how he could possibly be so calm about the entire thing.

“SLYTHERIN!” the hat yelled out, and Draco smirked, as he joined his family at his new house’s table.

“Black, Regulus,” McGonagall called out. She looked over at the Gryffindor table, to see Sirius watching nervously. She knew that it had strained their relationship enormously that his brother had been sorted to Slytherin. And sure enough, the hat called out that very house. Sirius slumped slightly, and Hermione felt her heart break. She refused to let it happen this time through. She would eventually be ousted for her friendship to Draco, and it was the very thing they needed to happen to ensure that it was clear that they did not harbour any bad feelings for each other. So if she could be a Gryffindor and friends with a Slytherin, she refused to let Sirius and his brother drift apart.

“Are you nervous?” a girl beside her asks. “I am. I had no idea I was a witch until a few months ago, and now I’m standing here.”

“It’ll be fine,” Hermione said, trying to reassure both the girl and herself.

“I hope so,” she said softly, “I think I’m next.”

“MacDonald, Mary,” McGonagall called out, and the girl made her way up nervously to the stool. The hat barely touched her head, before calling out, “GRYFFINDOR!”

Hermione waited patiently, as the hat called out person after person, before it was finally her turn.

“Potter, Hermione,” she heard her name be called out. She made her way over to the stool, and sat down. She looked out across the hall, as her brother’s eyes met her. He smiled at her, in reassurance, and she knew he meant it earlier when he promised he would be there for her regardless of which house she was placed in.

“Hmm, you have a conflicted mind, little one. And conflicted you are. You have a long journey ahead of you, if you are to change the way things once were,” the hat spoke to her.

“You know?” she thought, in surprise.

“I do,” the hat chuckled. “Don’t worry, Miss Granger, or Miss Potter I suppose it is now. Your secret is safe with me. I can only imagine the world has become quite horrid for you and young Draco to return as you did. It’s not going to be easy for either of you. So where would be the best place to place you? I see you had Gryffindor last time around. But do you not feel as if Ravenclaw could better challenge you? Or Slytherin, so that you may make friends with those you wish to save?”

“No,” she thought calmly, “I want to be in Gryffindor. I want to be by my big brother. I need to be if I am to save him. Please, just put me there.”

“Are you certain?” the sorting hat asked, which what she assumed to be an amused tone. “You need to remember not to forget to live while you are busy trying to save everyone. This may be a mission for you, but it is also the rest of your life. If you survive this, you will live in this era forever. You already belong, as you can feel in your memories. History has already begun to amend itself to account for you and Draco. Do not take certain paths just because it is what you need to do. Consequences are not always black and white. It’s not always as simple as you believe it to be.”

“I know,” she said softly, “I know. But I want Gryffindor. Please. I felt at home there, the first time around. I can still push myself and find a desire for knowledge from there. Please. Just put be in Gryffindor.”

“If you are sure,” the hat said.

Hermione closed her eyes as the hat shouted out, “GRYFFINDOR!”

She felt relief fill her body, as her brother and his friends began to cheer loudly. She felt happiness fill her body, as she moved between the tables to join him.

She glanced over at Slytherin, and caught Malfoy’s eyes. He nodded ever so slightly. And so, it would begin.

She saw Regulus however, sitting beside Draco, and she saw the pain in his eyes, as Sirius cheered for her loudly, yet ignored his sorting altogether. Perhaps there was a mutual desire for reconciliation on both sides. All they needed was a push. And she felt like Draco would be helpful in ensuring that the two of them remained close.

She sat down between James and Sirius, and James hugged her lightly. “I knew you would be here, Hermione. I never had any doubts. But I did mean it that I would have been just as proud of you regardless of which house you had been sorted into.”

The rest of the students had finished being sorted, and Dumbledore began to speak, welcoming them all to the school, and giving a speech similar to those she had heard so many times before.

She could feel Sirius watching their interaction, almost curiously. And she brushed it off. She knew it was curiousness if James would have been just as proud if she had been placed alongside Regulus and Draco in Slytherin.

She smiled at him, “Thanks, Jamie.”

Dumbledore began to wrap up his speech then, and the food appeared before them.

She let out a sigh of relief. It was time to get to work, and make sure that this time things would be different. Not just because she needed to save the world, but she couldn’t afford to lose the family she was already starting to feel attached to.

Chapter Text

Draco sat at the Slytherin table, placing food on his plate at breakfast the next morning.

It was strange, to say in the least, to be back in his eleven-year-old body, back at school. He never did complete his schooling the first time through. He had left, after his sixth year, to be at the Manor as a soldier in Voldemort’s war. A Death Eater, forced to go on missions, to hurt people and to watch them suffer because they were believed to be inferior. And it had killed him to do so.

He had thought about running away, day after day, to somewhere far from it all. To another country where Voldemort’s reach wouldn’t stretch, to somewhere he could never be found.

But it would mean leaving his Mother behind, with his father and aunt, both of which wouldn’t hesitate to hurt her just make him suffer. It had killed him, knowing she was nothing more than a pawn in this all. He had to believe his father loved his mother at one point. That their marriage wasn’t always as horrid as it had been in those last few years. That even if he couldn’t stop them from getting together this time through, at the very least they would be happy, and that she would be safe.

It was strange, to say in the least, to see his mother as a teenage student, only a few years older than him. With memories that weren’t quite his, of growing up by her side. And even as a big sister, she and Andromeda had always protective of him, as their younger brother, mothering him in ways his new mother did not.

He took another scone, and he could see Narcissa smiling as she shook his head. He knew he must have been acting strangely, devouring food as if he hadn’t eaten in years. And he could understand her confusion. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t, in this time line, eaten well. The house elves made sure he never was left wanting anything.

Even in the old timeline, he had merely stuck his nose up at the food Hogwarts offered. He claimed it to be lesser to what the Malfoy elves could make, and would make sure everyone knew just how inadequate the food was.

But the old him, Draco Malfoy, had also been on the run for his later years. He had survived a war, only to be thrown into a political rebellion.  Food was hardly well available when in the last year he spent more time on the run, moving from base to base so that they were never tracked to a singular location. Food became something to keep them sustained. Not a means of making sure they were well fed. He hardly got to enjoy cakes and other treats. Not when there were other priorities.

He could tell it was time for classes, and while he knew it was inevitable, it was the part of this mission he was looking forward to the least. It wasn’t as if it had been challenging the first time around, but it had been effort to try and stay on the top, and to best Granger. But this time around, it would be repetitive. He had Charms first, and he could almost predict it would be the same ‘Wingardium leviosa’ that it had been the first around. And pretending he didn’t know the spell would do no good. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t going to try at school, but the last thing he needed was for him or Granger to come off as some sort of prodigies. They were supposed to be laying low, making the right friendships, and later, collecting horcruxes. Not standing out as some sort of geniuses. That would almost definitely get them noticed by both Dumbledore and Voldemort.

And it wasn’t that they didn’t trust Dumbledore. But the man had a tendency of being slightly manipulative. The last thing they needed was to have him take over their plans without him knowing the consequences of his actions. He also tended to have a slight bias towards Gryffindor over Slytherins. It was one of the reasons the house was so quick to turn to Voldemort’s side. They were already all believed to be villains, and it didn’t help that Gryffindors were never punished for attacking Slytherins, at least not to the same severity Slytherins were punished. Bias case in point his first year when Slytherins had worked hard all year, only for Potter and his friends to go and rack in enough points to put them in the lead at the last moment. And for their plan to work, they needed the Slytherins on their side just as much as the Gryffindors.

And maybe they would be forced to tell Dumbledore their plan later on; they hardly had an effective method of destroying the Horcruxes. Not when the Sword of Godric Gryffindor had yet to be imbued with the venom of the basilisk.  And facing a basilisk was hardly something Draco wanted to do.

He stood as he made his way to the charms classroom. They had it first period with the Gryffindors, and he caught Granger’s eye from across the room, and gave her a slight nod. They would have to come up with the list of priorities later, of who to save first. After all, some friendships would be easier to forge than others.

He took a seat next to his cousin, and Regulus gave him a smile. He had been placed in the same dorm as Regulus, and even though he didn’t know his uncle Regulus from the first time through, he had the memories of the three of them, Sirius, Regulus, and Draco, growing up together as closely as brothers.

It was why he wasn’t surprised when Regulus turned to him to ask, “Have you talked to Sirius since you’ve been sorted?”

He frowned at that, “No,” he admitted. After seeing the way Potter had welcomed his sister into his house, he had half expected for Sirius to seek them out. But he supposed being in a different house from them would put some strain on the relationship. “I might try and find him later. Do you want to join me?”

Regulus shook his head quickly, and Draco hardly had to ask why. It was no secret that Sirius Black was different from the rest of his family. That he despised their views on blood purity and that he wanted nothing to do with it. And now that Draco and Regulus had been sorted into the very house that was thought to care purely about blood status, well Sirius would not be happy about that.

He knew it would have to be one of the first things he fixed. He could hardly have his cousin mad at him, not just for the sake of the plan, but because he missed him, as strange as that was. Draco Malfoy never knew Sirius Black, not personally. But Draco Black missed his older cousin.

He supposed it was part of the ritual, making him feel as a small child, craving his cousin’s support and love.

He made a mental note, to seek out his cousin later. The sooner the better, for the longer he waited, the harder it would be to repair that relationship.

He tunes out most of Flitwick’s lecture. He wasn’t wrong in assuming what they were going to spend their first class doing. And in all honesty, he still remembered everything from his first time around. He probably wouldn’t need to truly study for any subjects until sixth year materials. That was the year he was far too preoccupied with his mission from Voldemort to worry about schooling.

Sure, he would still need to put in effort for his essays, but it wasn’t as if he didn’t know what to write about yet. All he needed to do was write it out and submit it.

Flitwick gives them time to practice, and he nearly bursts into laughter watching Granger pretend not to know what to do. She’s making the same rudimentary mistakes she publically scolded him for reciting the spell wrong. He can see it killing her, to pretend not to know the charm. But then again, it hardly would help their case if they’re the first two to get it, especially on their first try.

He can see the other students begin to get closer to reciting it well, as can Granger, by their wand movements becoming more precise, as well as their vocalization of the spell. She finally gives up not being able to do the spell, and recites it perfectly, making her feather float across the room. Not wanting to be assigned with the paper for not completing the spell, he quickly follows her footsteps and recites the incantation perfectly as his feather joins hers.

Regulus gives him a proud look, and he’s not that much further from making his from levitating.

“Well done, Miss Potter, Mr Black! You’ve done it!” Flitwick exclaims proudly. He can see envy on the Gryffindors’ faces as he was the second to get it, and curiosity from the Slytherins. The power dynamic for the first years in the house has yet to be set, and he knows by getting the charm right, he’s setting himself into the running.

His cousin gets it moments later, and he smiles so brightly. Draco can’t help but grin at his cousin as he did so, proud of him for getting it. He was the first in their year, technically, since Granger and he already learned the spell before.

“Nice!” Draco whispers to him, and Regulus grins back. His peers are still struggling, and a few others manage to get the spell before the class is up. And as he predicted, those who hadn’t are left to write up an essay on the correct incantation method before the next class.

He sighs, as he gathers up his books. Day one out of the rest of his life was nearly over. And yet, they were just beginning.

Hermione walked into the library, and immediately felt a rush of familiarity. If Hogwarts was like coming home, them the library was like finding solace. How many hours had she spent in here, avoiding her classmates, trying to learn about this new world she had been thrown into, trying to make sure she was never thought of as inferior because of her blood. So many hours she had spent, learning, and trying to better herself and her education, spending hours pouring over book after book, trying to absorb all the information in here.

She walked through the library, seeing the tables mostly looking full, much to her surprise. However, given the greater amount of students who had attended Hogwarts prior to the first war, she really shouldn’t have been. It was Voldemort’s reign that had cause their numbers to drop so drastically.

She recognized a girl and dark-haired boy sitting at a table. She knew who they were, because the girl was in her house, but more specifically because of her eyes, which Hermione knew to belong to her best friend. It was Lily Potter, well the soon to be Lily Potter, and currently Lily Evans. What did surprise her however was Severus Snape sitting beside her. It shouldn’t have really, Harry had told her that they were friends when they were younger. That it was Snape eventually falling into his Slytherin friend’s Death Eater ways that they drifted apart. She prayed that it would not happen this time. Not when it was Snape who heard the prophecy that Harry or Neville was the saviour, and delivered it specifically to Voldemort himself.

She moved closer to the table, feeling a sense of nervousness at meeting Harry’s mother. She had heard tales of Lily Evans, who was nice to everyone, who was the smartest in her year, who fought for everyone, unless they didn’t deserve it.

But unlike James, who loved her as a sister, Lily had no memories of Hermione that the ritual had given her. She held no connection to her, and as Harry’s mother, Hermione wanted nothing more than for the girl in front of her to like her. Especially since Hermione wanted her to survive this so that Harry could grow up with both his parents this time through.

“Can I sit here?” Hermione asked, somewhat shyly. “All the other tables are full.”

“Hermione, right?” Lily asked, somewhat warily, “Hermione Potter?”

She assumed the inclusion of her last name was meant to have some sort of meaning, given her brother. She knew that James and Lily were hardly friends in the beginning, and she wondered if that would be enough to hinder a relationship between her and Lily.

“Yes,” she said, smiling as if she didn’t know why Lily was asking, “It’s fine if you say no. It’s just that I recognize you from my house. I don’t exactly know a lot of people here.”

“I thought you grew up in the wizarding world?” Snape asked, with a hint of a sneer in his voice.

“I did, but our family didn’t socialize too much with others. Plus none of the families they did socialize with had any children my age,” Hermione shrugged.

“Well if you are anything like your brother, then you might as well leave now,” Snape sneered again. “We want nothing to do with you.”

She frowned slightly, not sure of what to say. She should have been used to it, it was the same level of animosity Ron had held for her in the beginning. But it didn’t make the pain any less. It definitely didn’t help that she now had the mind of a child once more, and she was left with the same insecurities she had back then.

But it would do no good to let him see how much he had hurt her. Not when they had greater things to worry about than her feelings. So, she swallowed, and began to turn to leave; it was clear that regardless of what Lily may think, Snape definitely did not want her anywhere near them.

“Wait,” Lily called out, and Hermione could hear Snape whispering furiously to her, “You can sit here, Hermione. Clearly you are far more agreeable than your brother. One must wonder if you got all the polite genes in your family. Sorry for all the questions.”

“Thanks,” Hermione smiled brightly, as she took a seat next to them both. “I have been told that I am the more likable sibling,” she said, thinking of the many lectures their mother had given her brother on how he should be more like her. Not that he took any of them to heart. And not that their mother knew that Hermione was just as responsible for half of those things as James was.

“So how are your classes, Hermione?” Lily asked her, and Hermione grinned as she started talking about her day. She tried to keep her excitement genuine, even if everything was a repeat lecture for her. Lily smiled, and in turn began to tell her about their second-year courses, and the spells she would learn.

She pulled out her charms book, and lay it across the table, as she flipped to a page which she knew would be what they were going to be covering next. If she was going to have to pretend each class not to be as fast as she was, she would still need a good excuse as to why she’s one of the first people to get each spell. And spending time in the library was the perfect cover.

Of course, later it could be more of a ruse, without her actually studying, but her and Draco planning for their mission. But for now, she needed the guise. Especially if she were to become friends with Lily and with Snape.

“Lumos?” Snape asked, peering over to see what she was reading, “That’s not a spell you’ll learn until later this year. Why are you looking at it now?”

“It never hurts to study ahead,” Hermione shrugged. And it was true. She had done it the first time around, learning nearly all of their material far ahead of time.

“I agree,” Lily grinned at her, “Besides, if you put in the effort now and learn it, you don’t need to write the essays later on the theory since you can do the charm. It’s practical really.”

Snape shook his head at the two of them, but he had the slightest smile at the corner of his mouth.

“Why do you even need to study?” Snape asked her, “Doesn’t everything come naturally to you Potters, or is it just your brother who is talented enough to put in minimal effort and still get passing grades?”

“Severus!” Lily scolded him, “You don’t need to be rude. Hermione hasn’t done anything to you.”

“Yet,” Snape sneered. “She’s her brother’s sister. For all we know she’s plotting something.”

“Yes,” Hermione deadpanned. “It’s my master plan. All of this was a ruse. I secretly just wanted to be your friends.”

“So that you can prank us later, or hex us when we least expect it. Or maybe your plan is to hinder our studying so that your brother and his goons can be the top of the year.”

“Or maybe she just wants to be our friends,” Lily suggested.

“Such a devious plan indeed,” Hermione rolled her eyes. “Well it’s almost dinner, so I best be off. Thank you for allowing me the opportunity to study with you both. Clearly it was asking you to give up a lot, Snape.”

She stood, gathering her books, and Hermione headed out of the library and towards the Great Hall for dinner.

Clearly it would be a lot harder to win over Lily Evans and Severus Snape than she had thought it would be.

Draco watched his cousin from across the hall, as he ate his dinner. It was rather impressive really, that Sirius managed to spend so much energy avoiding eye contact with him, pretending that he did not see Draco or Regulus sitting there.

He waited, until dinner was nearly over, and for his cousin to get up to leave.

“Leaving so soon?” his mother asked him as she saw him heading out before dessert was even out,

Draco nodded, “I need to do something,” he said vaguely hoping she wouldn’t push it. He wasn’t all that sure what Narcissa thought about their cousin Sirius being in Slytherin, other than what all their parents believed. So the last thing he wanted to do was to tell her what he was trying to do, not quite yet.

He ran out, as he saw Sirius leaving to go up to the Gryffindor tower with his friends.

“Sirius!” he called out, as he was closer. He saw Sirius turn around, his eyes widening in surprise, before darkening slightly.

“You go ahead,” Sirius told his friends. He could see Potter looking sceptical about leaving Sirius with his cousin, and Draco was sure that he had told them all how horrible his family was.

“Are you sure?” James asked, and Draco felt a pang in his chest. Sirius, in this new world, was like his older brother. And the fact that his brother’s friends didn’t trust him alone with Sirius hurt.

“I am,” Sirius nodded, not taking his eyes off of his cousin.

Sirius waited until his friends left before turning to him, “Well? What do you want?”

He felt a pang of pain at the coldness. “To talk to you, Sirius,” he said softly, “We’re family. I thought you would at least acknowledge me. Not ignore us. What happened?”

“You did,” Sirius said, shaking his head, “You got sorted.”

“So that’s it?” he asked, feeling anger bubble up in his chest. “I’m a Slytherin and now house rivalries mean we are not even family?”

“You’re a Slytherin which means you clearly respect their values,” Sirius sneered. “I thought you could be different. That you both could have bee. But I was wrong.”

“What, their values like resourcefulness or cunningness?” Draco raised a brow. “Or Slytherin’s views on blood purity.”

“You know which one,” Sirius said firmly. “I can’t be associated with you if you feel that way. It’s wrong. To believe what our parents tell us that certain people are below us just because of who their own parents were. I don’t want anything to do with our family if that’s how they feel. If it’s how you feel.”

“And if it’s not?” Draco asked him softly. “I never said I felt that way, Sirius. I never said I think that they are inferior to us.”

“Don’t you?” Sirius asked him sceptically. “You’re in their house.”

“For Merlin’s sake, Sirius!” Draco exclaimed, “It’s not as if one house is right and the other is wrong. It’s not that black and white. Do you know why I’m in Slytherin? Because I’m not intellectual enough for Ravenclaw. I don’t care about the pursuit of information for learning’s sake. I want it for the advantage it gives me. I don’t care about patience, justice and loyalty, so I’m not a Hufflepuff. I’m not brave or nobleness or chivalry. I’m not a Gryffindor, not when I can’t run straight into danger without giving it a thought of if it is worth to risk my life. What I am is resourceful and ambitious. That’s why I’m a Slytherin. Because I wanted to be in the same house as my family. Because I value their traits. Not because I think that muggleborns or even half-bloods are undeserving of magic.”

“But it comes with your house,” Sirius said softly, looking torn, “How many of your house mates curse others because of their blood status?”

“You hex people all the time because of their house!” Draco said, “Don’t think I don’t know about the letters sent home because of you. How is that any better.”

“They deserve it,” Sirius said, looking unconvinced. “I hex them because of who they are, not their blood status.”

“You’re my cousin,” Draco pleaded. “You’re the closest thing I have to a big brother. Please don’t ignore me because of what house I’m in.”

“Our family has no problems ignoring me except to tell me how big of a disappointment I am,” Sirius countered.

“I still wrote to you,” Draco whispered, “It never mattered to me what house you were in. Why does it matter to you what house I’m in.  You’re my family, Sirius. Please don’t push me away. I miss you. You’ve always been there for me, for the last decade. You protected me when Bellatrix was being cruel, and hurting me out of jealousy for being a son in my family of all sisters. You were there for me whenever mother lectured me about proper behaviour, telling me it’s all rubbish anyways. You snuck off with me whenever other children would make fun of our family for being insane. You’ve been here for me for all the worst parts of my life. You can’t leave me now. I need you. You’re my family, Sirius!”

He hadn’t even realized he’d started crying until he felt his cheeks grow wet. For Salazar’s sake, he was a grown man! Why was he crying like a child?

He cursed the ritual, for de-aging him mentally and so making him act so childishly. He cursed his new memories, fresh in his head, of the relationship he had with the older boy, furious that something he hadn’t actually live through hurt him so much. He furiously wiped them away, ashamed and embarrassed.

Keeping Sirius as an ally was part of his mission. But it hurt so personally. Like his big brother actually was abandoning him.

It definitely was going to take some time to get used to these new memories, and what they meant for him.

“You don’t think I’m a blood traitor?” Sirius asked him finally, as he looked at Draco.

“Of course not,” Draco responded vehemently. “You’re my cousin. I don’t care what house you’re in or who your friends are.”

“Then I don’t care what house you’re in either,” Sirius responded. “I won’t push you away, Draco. If you still want to be considered family, then I won’t argue. You’re my little cousin after all.”

He threw his arms around Sirius, as the little boy inside of him wanted nothing more than to hug his older cousin, and he held him tightly.

Sirius wrapped his arms around him, and then he said. “How about we go to the kitchens? We can get some dessert from the house elves and you can tell me all about how your first day went.”

Draco’s eyes lit up, as he followed his cousin through the halls of Hogwarts. Maybe this had all been a mission originally, but he could tell already it was going to be hard not to be personally invested in the outcomes of his friends and family.

Chapter Text

To say that Lily Evans was curious about Hermione Potter would be an understatement. When she had sat at the Gryffindor table during the Sorting and saw Hermione be sorted into Gryffindor and join her brother proudly, she had let out a sigh of annoyance. One Potter was bad enough, but two? Two Potters in the same house whose sole purpose would be only to hex Slytherins and to make her miserable was nearly unbearable.

Especially when she saw how clear it was that Hermione adored her older brother. It was as clear as day, with a look of admiration shining so brightly on her face every time she looked at him. And it was clear that he thought the world of her too. For the entire first day after her sorting, he had gone around the Common Room making sure everyone knew that she was his sister and how great it was that she had been sorted into his house. How excited he was.

And she knew that look of admiration that Hermione wore on her face all too well. It was the same admiration she had once held for her own sister. That she still held for Petunia, even though she was sure such a gesture would not be as appreciated. Not when Lily was the one with magic, and Petunia a muggle. Not when Petunia despised her for being different. For being the one who was ‘special’. Looking at Hermione’s dynamic with her brother hurt ever so slightly, seeing a healthy sibling relationship where they were just proud of each other, regardless of their differences. It hurt to see an older sibling be genuinely happy for the younger. And to hear that he would have supported her regardless of her house. It had made her wonder almost, if things would have been different, if Petunia was a witch as well. Or would she turn against Lily if Lily happened to be in a different house? Would things even be remotely different than they were now, with the odd letter which she was sure her parents forced Petunia to write?

She could see the same level of pain on another’s face, at the sight of the two siblings. Lily never thought she would see the day when she agreed with Sirius Black on anything, but she could see from his face at meals that he too, was ever so slightly jealous of the relationship between Hermione and James Potter. And how could he not be, when his own brother was in Slytherin, and refused to talk to him?

She couldn’t say she agreed with the divide between houses. Not when Severus was her best friend, and a Slytherin. It didn’t matter to her what his house may be. He was a good person, and she cared about him. And she didn’t get why it couldn’t be that simple; why houses had to divide up families and friends.

But that would involve also pretending the biases weren’t there. That half the Slytherin house, at least, didn’t look down on her because of her parents.

She wondered, perhaps, if things could ever be different between the houses. If Slytherins and Gryffindors could ever get along, as she and Severus did. But that was a problem which stemmed from years of hate and divide, and it would take far more than one friendship to mend.

Hermione Potter, on the other hand, was another story. She was immediate, and someone who genuinely did seem as if she wanted to be friends with Lily and Severus. And she could see from the young girl’s face during meals as she tried to reach out to her peers, that it was hard for her, trying to make friends. That she did try, to talk to the other girls who she shared a dorm with, but most of them had known each other for years even before school.

She could see the lack of connection between Hermione and the others. And where she easily was charismatic and could use the same charms her brother did to win people over to his side, she refused. She seemed to want a deeper connection to those she was friends with. She seemed to want to genuinely know them. It was the same way everyone knew that James Potter was friends with Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Petter Pettigrew. And while he may be perfectly cordial at times he wasn’t being a prat, no one else would ever be his friend in the way the other three boys were.

So maybe Hermione genuinely just wanted friends.

But it still raised the question. Why Lily and Severus, especially when they were a year older than her? Why not anyone her own age? Why her and Severus? Was it really just that she saw the two of them in the library and recognized Lily? Or were there any alternative explanations?

“Stop thinking so hard,” Severus said, breaking her out of her stupor.

She blinked, looking up at her friend, as she contemplated asking him. She knew he wasn’t a fan of either of the Potters, and he had made it abundantly clear that he thought she was no better than her brother. But the thing was, Hermione hadn’t actually done anything which would make her think otherwise. In the last week, despite only studying them once, Lily had taken to studying Hermione Potter, trying to see if she truly was her brother’s sister in terms of his antics and his pranks.

There was no mistaking the resemblance in other aspects. Despite James’ cockiness, she knew he was genuinely pleased when he got something correct in class. And seeing Hermione’s face light up while she studied alone showed the same pleasure. Despite Hermione’s longer, hair, they both had the same unruliness to it.

But there was nothing which proved that she too enjoyed pulling the same pranks or hexing others. It had only been a week since school had started, and Lily knew that still had seven years to change.

“What do you think of Hermione Potter?” Lily asked Severus slowly, wanting to gage his reaction.

And as expected, he sneered as he looked at Lily. “You know what I think of her. I don’t trust her as far as I could hex her. She’s the exact same as her brother, through at though.”

“But she’s not,” Lily pointed out, “She was perfectly pleasant when studying with us, and never said a word otherwise. It was only when you were rude to her that she grew slightly distant. It was a natural response to someone being cold to her despite her only being pleasant in return.”

“She probably had some reason for wanting to talk to us. It was probably her brother’s idea, to send her in to talk to us, to see how we would react to her, and to befriend us, in an attempt to get us to lower our guards so they can pull some sort of cruel prank on both of us. And if not, it’s nothing more than her wanting to pull some sort of stunt herself. I’m sure Potter told her all about how much enjoyment he gets out of making my life miserable, and she probably wants nothing more than to join in on the cruel pranks herself. She’s probably trying to prove to the others that she’s just as capable of being a nuisance as her brother is,” Severus said, refusing to even look up from his book.

“And if it’s not?” Lily challenged him, “What if she just genuinely wants to be our friend? Or to at least study with us in the Library since all the tables are almost always full?”

“Then it’s better to get rid of her sooner than later,” Severus rolled his eyes, “She’s still her brother’s sister. And eventually she’ll begin to act more and more like him, even if she hasn’t yet. It’s only a matter of time before she too forms some sort of unruly gang of children and begins harassing the rest of us. And the sooner we distance ourselves from that sort of behaviour, the better.”

“You really think that?” Lily asked him curiously, “That she would become just like her brother?”

“You don’t?” Severus challenged her in return.

“No,” Lily said softly, as she looked into Severus’ eyes. “I don’t think that she would become like him. She’s different than he is. Yes, it’s as clear as day that they’re related, but there’s something different about her. She doesn’t laugh along with her brother’s pranks, especially the ones that target individuals and not the collective. That prank that added the laughing potion to my pumpkin juice yesterday morning? Hermione looked anything but impressed, and she scolded her brother in front of the entire Gryffindor table about adding it in.”

“So she was trying to gain your trust,” Severus said, with a roll of her eyes. “To make you think she wanted to be your friend.”

“She did the same thing the day before when she found out her brother hexed a first year Slytherin,” Lily deadpanned. “I wasn’t even around. I heard it through the rumour mill. It seems as if I am not the only one curious about Hermione Potter.”

Severus looked a little less certain at that, but Lily shook her head.

“She’s different than her brother,” Lily said firmly. “Perhaps from the better. And as long as she doesn’t do anything to prove that she is all for hexing others as well, then I will not refuse her if she asks to study with us. And if she genuinely does want to be my friend, then I’ll be one to her as well.”

She could see the disdain on Severus’ face, but it didn’t matter to her. Her mind had been made.

Draco sat in the Slytherin common room, lounging on one of the chairs as he had so many times in his past life, except this time he wasn’t the same haughty Malfoy who strutted around as if he owned the place. Which to be fair, the first time around, he practically did own the place. As a Malfoy, his family was one of the most influential families in Magical Britain, if not the most, and as a result, those in Slytherin respected him and treated him as such. Even those who had been older than him.

Of course, the Black family was even older than the Malfoy, and as such commanded a similar sort of respect. It was why he, as a first year, was able to lounge around in the Slytherin dungeons without an upper year coming and telling him off. Granted, he wasn’t the heir as he had been in his past life, but he was still in the direct line to become heir to the Black family, and given the current way Sirius’ life was heading, if he followed the original timeline, in a few years his mother would kick him out of the family. Of course, it was only Arcturus, the head of their house, that could disinherit him. And if Draco had anything to say about the Black’s family path, he refused to let the same things happen to them as happened in the original timeline. The Black family would not die out once more.

It was as such he found himself studying with his mother and his aunt Andromeda, or his two sisters. It was proving to be difficult to merge his two lives, the one where he had no memories of his aunt, and memories of his mother being there for him throughout his life, or as his two elder sisters, whom he had known since birth, raising him, playing with him, and showing him nothing but love.

It would be easier, to forget his old life and accept the memories of his new one. But he couldn’t do that, not when he also had those memories of his mother dying before his eyes. Of never getting to know his aunt or her family. Especially when the new memories of them as his siblings were tied in.

He needed to do anything to protect them. Or at least to protect Andromeda and Narcissa.

He knew, deep down, that he should try to save Bellatrix too, from the life she would be heading into. From the insanity that came with it. But how could he when she so freely joined? When she instigated the torture and murder of her own sister? When he had watched her kill his mother in front of him. When he had begged and pleaded her and his father to not go through with it, but how they had anyway, despite his begging?

He was grateful now, that she was not in school with him, but instead had graduated already. He didn’t know how he would face her, day after day, knowing what she had done, what she still would do, unless he stopped her, stopped it all.

“Narcissa,” he heard a voice call out, and looked up to see Avery standing in front of them, leering at his older sister.

“Avery,” his sister acknowledged, looking up at him. He could see her demeanour change ever so slightly. And if he didn’t know her anywhere near as well as he had, he would have missed it all together, hidden behind her pureblood schooling of hiding her expression.

“There’s a Hogsmeade trip next weekend,” Avery said, looking her up and down, “What say you and I go to it together?”

“As honoured as I am for the offer, I’m not sure that would be wise,” Narcissa said, keeping her voice steady, “Given that it would be an unchaperoned event. As such, I cannot attend it with you.”

He wanted to roll his eyes at that. As proper and prim as his mother was, he knew it wasn’t the only reason she had for rejecting him. Of course, if he had gone through the proper channels, and contacted either their parents, or Arcturus Black first, she would have gone on a date with him, or at least have told him to seek permission if he hadn’t done so already. Or if she had even as much as wanted to go with him, she would write to her parents to get permission. But her refusal now, without budging had more to do with the fact that he knew his mother had no desire to go on a date with Avery, regardless of how he had gone about asking.

“It’s not the 50’s anymore, Narcissa,” Avery rolled his eyes, “You don’t need to ask your parent’s permission for every little thing you do.”

“Be that as it may, I respect our customs and our traditions,” Narcissa said firmly. “If you had gone through the proper channels it may have been different.”

“Stop being such a stuck-up witch,” Avery growled, “I want you to attend with me.”

“Perhaps my sister did not make herself clear enough,” Andromeda said coldly, standing to stare at him. “My sister has no desire to go on a date with you to Hogsmeade next weekend. You not only disrespected her wishes, but also are blatantly refusing to listen to her reasoning and are attempting to pressure her into an outing. How do you think my grandfather would react to know that you are trying to coerce a daughter of House Black? Especially given the support he has given your family throughout the years on various Laws the Wizengamot has chosen to pass? That he has given more than he has received to your family. More than a family like yours is certainly worth.”

Avery paled at that, and stepped back, as more eyes watched the interaction. “Very well,” Avery said. “I apologise for my lack of propriety.”

And with that, he turned and rushed out of the common room.

When the eyes turned away, no longer curious at the interaction, Narcissa gave her sister a soft smile.

“Thanks Andy,” she murmured, quietly so that the others would not hear.

“Anytime, Cissa,” Andromeda smiled back. “I refuse to let anyone speak to you that way.

And as such, the two sisters returned to reading their books, as Draco watched the entire thing unfold. He didn’t know much of their dynamic when they were at school. He hadn’t even known he had another aunt until he was older.

He was left wondering if perhaps the two of them had once been close, before everything had fallen apart and Andromeda had run off with a muggleborn. Had they been friends? It was clear that Narcissa adored her older sister. And he wondered, if perhaps the reason Narcissa had never mentioned her older sister was less out of shame and disappointment than it was out of pain of the loss. Because with the memories he had now, he was sure if it were to happen, that it certainly would hurt if she one day chose another man over her own family.

Hermione was sitting with her brother at the Gryffindor table when she glanced at her watch. Dinner was ending soon, and despite knowing she didn’t need to work hard on the Potions essay that Slughorn had assigned, she certainly couldn’t slack off. It didn’t feel right to her, knowing she should be doing work, and would have if it was her proper timeline, but she was choosing not to. Besides, she needed to at least try and make it through the next couple years if she were going to change history, and it certainly would not help if she were merely trying to change things as part of the larger picture, and not focus on her studies. Especially given the fact that if she and Malfoy were to succeed, and not die in the process, then she was stuck in this time. And the last thing she wanted was to be hindered by poor NEWT and OWL scores when trying to get a career.

“Leaving so soon?” James asked her as she gathered her bag. “Library again?”

“I have an essay due next Friday,” she said, grinning at her brother.

“I’m starting to wonder if you are related to Remus or me,” James said, shaking his head.

“I feel like Remus is a bad influence on your little sister,” Sirius chimed in. “All studying and no playing.”

“If anything, I’m a good influence on you sister,” Remus retorted. “I hardly think your parents would complain to find out that their daughter is spending her evenings studying and staying at the top of her class over casting useless pranks and hexes.”

“Remus, you’re going to break my heart,” Sirius said dramatically, falling onto James. “You know you love our pranks.”

“If you say so,” Remus rolled his eyes, and grinned at Hermione. “Do you mind if I join you?”

She grinned, “Not at all! You’re more than free to attempt to find free space in the library with me. Merlin knows it’s proving to be difficult.”

She was glad that he offered to come with her. She had been worried that James’ friends were decent to her because she was their mate’s sister, but nothing more. And she needed for them to trust her if she was going to save them. She needed them to trust her when the time came, if she couldn’t turn Peter, that he was a Death Eater. That Sirius didn’t need to dislike his family. That James and Lily should trust Sirius and Remus that neither of them were spies. But more importantly, she also wanted to be their friends. She loved James; ritual or not, she now had eleven years of memories of him being her older brother. And she wanted his friends to like her.

Remus walked with her to the library, asking her about her classes, and talking about some of their housemates who Hermione lived with. A few of her dorm mates had older siblings, and as such he was telling her bits about their families. He also told her about their teachers, details that James had never bothered mentioning, or didn’t know himself.

She hadn’t been as close as she might have liked with Remus in the past. He had been Harry’s parents’ friend, but more importantly, he had been their teacher. And it was hard to get close to someone when she had no real connection with them. But she had always liked Remus. He had been one of her favourite teachers, and she knew the man had been there for Harry when he most needed it.

As they arrived, she looked around, and was ever so slightly disappointed to see all the tables full once more. It was nice however, to see the school so full of kids. When she had first attended Hogwarts, she hadn’t completely taken into account the low number of students, due to the first war. She hadn’t known enough about its impact on the school, and had been too busy trying to integrate herself into the new world she had found herself in.

She saw Lily and Severus, sitting at their usual table. And as Snape scowled in their general direction, Lily smiled at her instead, and gestured her over.

“Are you friends with them?” Remus asked, and she could see him stiffen slightly.

“I’ve sat with them once or twice,” Hermione shrugged.

“And they let you?” Remus asked her again, a bit incredulous. “You are aware that they are hardly friends with your brother, right?”

“Lily was nice to me,” Hermione said softly, “I did pick up, however that Snape did not seem all that pleased to be friends with me. But the library is completely full, and I need to finish my essay. So I can hardly complain that they’re offering me a place to sit.”

He seemed conflicted, as if he were worried with letting James’ little sister sit with someone they did not trust.

“They won’t do anything to me, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Hermione said softly, “And if you’re afraid they might hex me, then you’ll be with me to make sure nothing happens. Give them a chance, Remus.”

He seemed to concede to that. “If James asks, you talked me into it.”

“I can agree to that,” she grinned, as she walked towards Lily’s table, with Remus coming behind her.

“Lupin,” Lily said, greeting him. “Hermione. I’m glad you decided to join us.”

“Where’re your friends?” Snape said glaring, “Didn’t want to step foot in the library and be caught actually trying to study?”

“They had other things to do,” Remus shrugged, and Hermione felt glad he hadn’t risen to the bait.

“Are you actually here to study, or to torment us?” Snape asked again, as Hermione pulled out her books and began to write out her essay.

“I have that Defense essay due, just as you do,” Remus rolled his eyes, “And I’d rather have it done sooner rather than later.”

“Fine,” Snape conceded, “But if you as much as point your wand at me, and I’ll hex you so that you’re in the hospital wing for the next week.”

“Severus!” Lily admonished. “Remus, you’re welcome to study with us, if you’d like. Merlin knows you’re far more agreeable than your friends.”

“Thanks,” Remus said wryly, as he opened his textbook.

They worked in silence for an hour, as Hermione finished up the last bit of her essay. She was well aware that she had been speeding through it, but she had a draft she was writing it from, so she supposed that could be used to justify how she had finished it so quickly. After she re-read her essay for the third time, she began to fold up the parchment.

“Done already?” Remus asked, raising a brow at her,

She nodded, “It wasn’t all that difficult. How is your defense essay coming along? Are Cornish pixies as deadly as they seem to be?”

He laughed at that, “If anything, I suppose they're more of a nuisance than anything else. How are you finding Defense?”

“I’m having a bit of issues with the knockback curse,” she confessed, if not lying just a little. The spell had been slightly tricky for her the first time around, and even know, she found the wand movements slightly odd.

“You need to make sure your wand arm is bent correctly,” Remus explained, as he held his arm up so that that he made a perfect square with his elbow. “If it’s even slightly off then it won’t be cast properly.”

She tried the spell again, casting it on an old piece of parchment, and she watched in amazement as the paper flew back perfectly.

“Way to go,” Lily grinned as she watched the parchment be knocked backwards.

She grinned as she looked at them. It was nice, in a way, to have people to study with. It wasn’t something she had managed to have, the first time around.

She had friends, and she loved Harry and Ron so much that it hurt to know she would never see them again, not as they once were. But she had to admit it hurt every time Ron mocked her for studying and annoyed her to no end when he wanted to copy her answers. But studying with others was different. It was like having a group of people who wanted to achieve the same things as her, to study and actually try in school. And not just rely on others to get things done.

“I can show you some other spells if you’d like,” Remus offered her, and she grinned brightly at him. He always was a good teacher, and she could see, even with all his insecurities, that he genuinely did enjoy helping others learn.

“Thank you,” she said brightly. “That would be amazing, Remus.”

He gave her a genuine smile, and she wondered if this time around, she would truly make friends with those she wanted to save. If she could have actual relationships beyond just wanting to make sure they survived.

And more than anything, she wanted to change everything.

Chapter Text

Before Hermione had noticed, two whole months of her first year at Hogwarts had flown by. She wasn’t sure how it had happened, not when she had so much they needed to accomplish, and she felt a bit panicked by how soon everything was approaching.

She knew, realistically, she had close to a decade before things needed to have been changed for good. No matter what, Voldemort could not approach James and Lily on October 31^st, 1981. But that wouldn’t be enough. He gained all his supporters during the height of the wizarding war. And in the next decade, he would gain followers who would follow him even after his death, continuing to influence those around them. Despite being passive for the decade after Voldemort’s first fall, they were still there, in the shadows. Bellatrix and the Lestranges tortured the Longbottoms after his fall. Lucius got close to Fudge and whispered in his ear. The others used their position on the Wizengamot to vote for legislation that would be favourable to Voldemort’s views.

She couldn’t wait until he returned.

But at the same time, she couldn’t march over to the individuals and demand that they did not take part in the things they one day would. Or that they did not join a madman who had yet to make as big of an impact as he one day would. She could hardly do anything when things had yet to happen.

Besides, she was trying. She was making friends in Gryffindor slowly. Remus talked to her more at meals, even if her brother wasn’t there. Since she was an early riser, he would often join her at breakfast and debate different theories with her. Or he would ask her what her mum wrote to her about, and she would offer him some of the treats Euphemia would send for her. She knew he had loved chocolate in her time, so she had asked her mother for more chocolate treats as Remus’ eyes would light up brightly at the sight. And when he couldn’t help it, they would flash gold.

She felt a wave of pity flow through her, knowing it was still a few years before the wolfsbane would be invented. And she could hardly ask her brother if he knew that his friend was a werewolf.

She had no idea when in the original timeline they had let him know that he was, only that in their later years they joined him as animagus. For if she confronted Remus, after only knowing him for a short time, it would most likely cause him to pull away. And she needed him to know that she didn’t fear him or despise him. That he genuinely was her friend. Because he was, mission or not. She enjoyed talking to him. And while she loved her brother, he was her family. He would love her regardless. But it was nice having someone not related to her want to be around her.

She knew that Snape still despised her, because of James. And Lily was pleasant enough, but at times it still felt like she was worried that Hermione would surprise her and catch her unaware in a prank. When all Hermione really wanted to do was study with the girl.

She had spent so much of her time at Hogwarts being compared to Lily Potter, the muggleborn girl who had been the smartest in her year, just as Hermione had. And Hermione genuinely wanted to get to know her. With her own friends, Lily seemed pleasant and compassionate. But with Hermione, despite her being polite enough, she was still a little withdrawn.

And her brother and Lily were the only real links she had to Harry anymore. For there were so many different variables that Hermione’s presence could change. She could accidently get one of them killed or make it so that Lily and James Potter never fall in love. And as such, she would stop her best friend from being born. Her once brother, and future nephew could cease to exist.

It was very telling of the weight she held on her shoulders, on both her and Draco’s shoulders.

Because they didn’t just need to worry about making sure the future they came from did not happen. They needed to make sure they didn’t make things even worse by trying to save everyone. They needed to make sure that Voldemort didn’t rise to power sooner. Or that he never died the first time, Merlin forbid.

And it was straining. There were so many nights she laid awake in bed, worrying about the different ways things could go. The different things that could go wrong if they ever so slightly screwed up the past.

She had taken to writing down different outcomes, using Arithmancy to calculate the odds of different futures coming to pass, and finding out which factors needed to be taken into account.

But at the end of the day, Arithmancy could only predict so much. She may have a good idea of what happened in the past, having talked to the remaining Order members, and studying as many Daily Prophet titles as they could, noting down all the important events.

She just needed to make sure not to change the wrong things. The last thing she needed was to accidently isolate certain people more, causing them to change sides sooner. Like accidently severing Lily and Snape’s friendship sooner, causing Snape to hate all Gryffindors and join Voldemort, and Lily never to forgive her or James, and never marry him.

Merlin.

It was no wonder she hadn’t been sleeping so well properly.

It was why she was so preoccupied that she didn’t even notice that she was about to crash into someone, until she was on the ground outside the Charms classroom, with her books scattered everywhere.

“Watch where you’re going, Potter,” she heard a familiar voice sneer.

She let out a sigh. Of course she would run straight into Severus Snape of all people, the very boy who hated her simply because of her brother, and would no doubt, hold this against her in the future.

“Sorry,” she said softly, as she offered him a hand to help him up. But instead he glared at her, and stood up on his own, brushing off his robes.

“Do you not have anything better to do, than run into unsuspecting Slytherins, and send them across the floor? It’s not as if your brother hasn’t sent enough of us to the hospital wing with his bloody pranks. Are you going to add to that number count?” Snape asked her, as he watched her magic her books into her bag.

“It was an accident,” Hermione protested. “I had a lot on my mind.” Like trying to save him from dying in the future. Excuse her if she was a little preoccupied.

“A likely story,” he said, looking at her with distaste. “Watch yourself in the future. Not everyone would be as nice as I am, and would hex you instead. Bad things happen to Gryffindors who are not all that careful with themselves. You’d best keep that in mind.”

“For what?” she snorted, “Being worried and not paying attention to where I was going? I didn’t do it intentionally, Snape. Trust me, if I had known I would run into you, I would have stopped myself sooner.”

“What do Potters even need to worry about?” he glared at her, “How to cause as much damage as possible? Besides, you admitted you would rather not run into me. Clearly you aren’t as willing to be friends,” he said, spitting that last word out with spite, “as you claim to be.”

She rolled her eyes, “Snape, I admitted it because I know if I were to run into you, that you would be doing exactly what you are now. Being rude for absolutely no reason whatsoever. I’ve done nothing but try and be polite to you, even though you made it clear from the beginning that you hate me on principle alone. I’ve tried to be nice, and unreactive when you throw taunts mindlessly my way for no particular reason. All I have wanted was to try and be your friend, Severus Snape, and you’ve made it very clear that you hate me, simply because of who I am. And I’m tired of it, I’m tired of sitting by and listening to you bash me day after day with no particular reason whatsoever.”

“Maybe you’ll take a hint and stop sitting where you don’t belong,” Snape sneered at her. “Lily is too kind to say the things to you that I do, but she doesn’t want you there just as I don’t. And even Lupin is only kind to you because of who your brother is. If it weren’t for James Bloody Potter, you wouldn’t have half the friends you do now, which isn’t saying much because you don’t have all that many.”

She felt her eyes begin to water, but she took a deep breath and tried to maintain her calm.

“Why?” she said softly. “Why do you hate me and my brother so badly?”

“He didn’t tell you?” Snape sneered, “Of course he wouldn’t. He probably wants to make himself seem like a decent person. If you’re so curious, why don’t you ask him yourself?”

And with that, he turned, leaving her behind in the corridor.

She waited until he left, and before stepping into the empty classroom, locking the door, before she let the tears stream down her face.

It had hurt, listening to him bash her so thoroughly, without even knowing anything about her. Just that he hated her on principle.

It was nothing new to her. Those in her grade school that she had attended before Hogwarts hated her for being smart. And then she found out she was a witch, and she had hoped things would be different. But it was the exact same at Hogwarts. They hated her for putting in an effort and trying so hard to belong in this new world she had been thrusted into. She studied hard, not only because she wanted good grades, but because she didn’t want anyone to tell her that she didn’t belong. And instead she isolated them all.

It was exactly the same here. Her brother’s friends tolerated her because of James. And Lily and Severus wanted nothing to do with her. Remus probably was pitying her, as Severus claimed he was. And her own dorm mates were pleasant enough, but she wasn’t close to any of them. Not like she had been with Harry and Ron.

She felt so alone in that moment, that she couldn’t stop herself from crying. From sobbing over all the things that had been weighing down on her so heavily for the last few weeks. She wanted nothing more than to pretend everything would be okay, but how could she? How could she when she felt responsible to save the entire world, but it seemed like they didn’t want her in it?

She had known it wouldn’t be easy, trying to go back to the past. But she had no idea that it would be this hard.

Draco sat beside his cousin in Potions as he watched Slughorn enter the room. The man had a different teaching style than Professor Snape had, as while his Godfather preferred Slytherins to all Gryffindors and played favourites like that, Slughorn played favourites based on how well you did in his class, or how connected you were. And as a Black who was near the top of the class, it was suffice to say that Draco was well liked by their Professor.

He supposed in hindsight he should have anticipated why Slughorn had done what he had, when he decided to pair them up based on who they would do well with for their potions partner.

It was how he found himself sitting beside Hermione Granger, who looked all too pleased at the announcement. And if he hadn’t known her as he did, he would suspect it was because as the rest of the Gryffindors, she was pleased by the opportunity to be able to torment a Slytherin. It was the only reason any of them were ever excited to work with his housemates. The rest of the time, they made their displeasure quite known.

The rivalry between the two houses had always been bad, but it was something his mind had minimalized during the war, and in the years after, as what was some house rivalries in comparison to fighting for basic wizarding rights.

As they work together on their boil cure potion, he noted how in sync the two of them were. He supposed it help, having both already done the potion several times in the past. But as she cut, he stirred, neither one needing to talk to the other, as they executed the different steps of the potion perfectly.

And as the potion in the cauldron began to turn blue, he felt a sense of pride as the pink smoke began to rise from it. He shouldn’t be all that proud, if he were honest. He had done this before. And despite his mental age and body, he still had all the experience of his past.

But still, he couldn’t help but feel proud as the potion turned the correct colour.

“Brilliant!” He heard Slughorn’s voice call out ecstatically from behind them as he walked toward their cauldron to peer inside. “I knew placing the two of you together would be a brilliant pairing! Five points to Gryffindor and Slytherin.”

He could see Regulus looking proud of him, as his own potion began to have the correct colour of smoke rise from it moments later. They weren’t joined by many other successful pairs, however, as it seemed that more potions turned red instead. Or in the case of, the Gryffindor who was working behind them, her cauldron simply melt, causing the entire classroom be filled with a foul odor.

It was hard not to snicker at the catastrophe, as Slughorn struggled to contain the smell. He knew even Granger was having a rough go at keeping a straight face, as Slughorn ushered them all from the classroom and assigned them a foot long essay.

“Can I talk to you?” Granger asked him in a low voice, as she gestured to a nearby classroom.

It wasn’t hard to guess what she had wanted to talk about. Other than the odd acknowledgement from the other, they had hardly been able to talk to each other since starting school. And how could they easily without it seeming odd. They had no reason to be friends, no prior connection, or similarities. If a Black and Potter, that being a Black in Slytherin, and a Potter in Gryffindor, became friends, it would certainly cause an uproar. Especially given Sirius’ very public disagreements with the rest of their family.

He locked the door as soon as they entered and put up the necessary privacy charms, as she turned to him.

“I’m glad Slughorn assigned us as partners,” she admitted, “It gives us more excuses to talk without it being anything odd.”

“I agree,” he acknowledged. Because now they could meet and claim it to be for studying purposes as they were potions partners, and it no longer would be as strange of a reason. “We need to discuss our progresses.”

“How have you been doing?” she asked him, “With everything? How are you settling into the Black family?”

“It’s a bit odd,” he admitted to her. While they didn’t exactly have the strongest relationship before travelling back in time, he did trust her. And besides, she was the only one who could even comprehend what he was feeling. “I have so many memories in my head. From being Draco Malfoy and Draco Black. And it’s hard at times, because Draco Black only exists because we did the ritual. Those memories aren’t real.”

“They are,” she said softly, “It was us who lived them. I’m still Hermione Potter. Just because I also have the memories of Hermione Granger, doesn’t mean the memories of Hermione Potter doesn’t exist. All those memories I shared with my family are no less true than the ones I have as Hermione Granger.”

“I know,” he muttered, “But my mother is now my sister. She still raised me, just in a different way. She’s now my big sister who protected me from my parents and Bellatrix, over the mother who protected me from my father and Voldemort. And it’s hard to make that distinguishment.”

“I can imagine,” she said softly. “I don’t know how I would feel if I were in your shoes. I love James, but I never knew him before. It hurts because sometimes he’s so like Harry that I forget for a moment. But it’s not the same.”

“It’s nice too, though,” he said softly, “Having so many siblings and cousins. It’s something I never had before.”

“How is it going with Sirius?” she asked him, and Draco sighed.

“It’s not the same,” he admitted. “I got him to talk to me, after being sorted into Slytherin, but it was hard. I had to denounce blood purity, which wasn’t hard since I don’t believe in it. But I thought he would be easier to talk to. That he wouldn’t push me away so quickly. Even now, he talks to me, and in the halls, he asks me how my day was. But we were like brothers before school. Now we just talk to each other in passing.”

“At least you’re getting somewhere,” she said comfortingly, “In the seven years he was at school the first time, he never once acknowledged his brother. It was how he and Regulus fell apart. And if he’s willing to talk to you, chances are he’ll give his brother the same chance. If Sirius doesn’t push away his family, that’s the first step of keeping the Black family together.”

He nodded, “Hopefully the rest of my family is as accepting.”

“Do you think they wouldn’t be?” Hermione asked, frowning.

“It depends on my Grandfather,” Draco admitted. “He’s the head of our house. It doesn’t matter what Aunt Walburga wants. If Grandfather Arcturus doesn’t want to disinherit Sirius, then he’ll still be in the family. And if Grandfather can be convinced not to join the Death Eaters, then the Black family will not be associated with Voldemort.”

“Then I hope we manage to convince him,” she said determinedly, and he nearly smiled at that.

“How about on your end?” he asked her.

“James has been wonderfully inclusive,” she admitted. “I don’t know whether his friends actually like me however, but they’re friendly with me. My problem is with Snape. He seems to hate my brother badly enough that he won’t let me even look in his direction without sending an insult my way.”

Draco winced at that. “I can talk to him if you want. He’s in my house after all. Perhaps if we start publically associating, he’ll be more likely to back off.”

She snorted, “I doubt it. You didn’t see the hatred in his eyes for me. And if he’s as influencing on Lily Evans as I think he is, then she and I might have a harder time becoming friends.”

He sighed, “I guess we have our work cut out for us then, at least our first steps.”

She nodded. “It’s not going to be easy. But we never thought it would be.”

Hermione sat at the Gryffindor table beside her dorm mate, Mary MacDonald, as she watched her brother suspiciously.

It was hard not to, when the four boys sat closely together, waiting for the food to be placed on the table.

And more suspiciously, they were early to dinner. They were never early to anything ever. Not when James had pointed out that he’d rather time his appearance perfectly to when the food arrived, so he wouldn’t be left waiting for food and starve to death.

Sirius had chimed out that his beautiful face couldn’t handle looking like he was starving at that, and Hermione had rolled her eyes.

So to see them there, at that time, made her suspect something was up.

It didn’t help that it was Halloween, and since her first year at Hogwarts, she hadn’t had a single uneventful Halloween ever. And hopefully it would be nothing like her own first year when she had been locked in the bathroom with a troll, terrified for her own life, and sure she was going to die there and then.

Her answer came to her moments later, as food was placed in front of her, and she watched the boys struggle to keep their faces calm.

She rolled her eyes, reaching out to take one of the dinner rolls, only to find that the roll, had in fact, rolled away from her grasp.

She let out a shocked sound, and as she tried again, the roll simply rolled further down the table.

Perplexed, she tried for another one, only to find it doing the same thing.

She heard outraged sounds from throughout the hall and found that whenever anyone tried to reach for a dinner roll that it would move away from them. Or when they reached for a serving of lasagne, the entire dish to begin to hover above them. Or If they tried to pour pumpkin juice, it would pour anywhere but the glass.

“What’s going on?” she heard a girl beside her ask.

“Why can’t we get any of our food?” a Ravenclaw said angrily.

“I don’t understand why the roll just won’t let me reach out and grab it,” she heard a Slytherin say, followed by a few curses.

And from the smirks on her brother and his friend’s faces, she suspected that they very much had something to do with the display at dinner.

She laughed slightly as she turned to Mary, “I believe we have been pranked,” she told the girl, and the girl beside her looked puzzled before laughing herself.

She looked over at her brother, who had been trying to catch her eye. He looked rather proud of himself, and seeing her laugh made him grin brighter.

It was hard not to, when the prank wasn’t particularly harmful, nor was it targeting any individual group, then it was indeed harmless. It was more for their amusement than anything else.

She could see why Fred and George Weasley had been compared so many times in the past to the Marauders, what when the boys had all loved pranking everyone.

It had been a rough few weeks for her, and it made her feel better, watching the laughter throughout the Great Hall, knowing that even with how hard things could be, that everything wasn’t terrible. That there were still things they could laugh over. And that the future was not without hope.

And when McGonagall came over, to yell at the four boys and demand they undid whatever they had done so the rest of them could eat and get on with their evenings, she found herself laughing harder. The boys looked at her confused, all of them putting on great shows of innocence as they claimed fervently that they had nothing to do with the display and that they had spent the entire evening in the Gryffindor Common room before dinner.

Hermione noted that they didn’t even try and come up with alibies for what they were doing that morning or in the afternoon. Especially given the fact that she was certain that if McGonagall were to ask, they would have a far harder time laughing.

And in the end, when they were given detention for the rest of the week, Professor Dumbledore waved his wand, and the charms on the food were lifted so the rest of them could eat.

She shook her head, things were rough, especially with Snape clearly hating her, but she refused to give up. She was going to save them all, even if it meant working harder to make sure they didn’t die. That much she was determined to accomplish.

Chapter Text

James Potter loved his little sister. There was no denying that. His parents had told him a few years back that he had always been their miracle child. They were older when they had him, and had long since given up ever being able to have any children of their own. And when James was born, they were beyond ecstatic.

He knew it had been hard on his parents, and that before him, they had had many miscarriages while trying to have kids of their own. And when he came around, they had been happy to have a child.

Hermione, on the other hand, was a complete welcome surprise. They had accepted after James, that they had a child, and had not expected for Magic to bless them once more with another baby. In all their years, they had barely been able to have one healthy child, and within the span of a few years, they managed to have two healthy children.

He was aware that his parents spoiled him slightly, given how glad they had been to finally have kids. He knew it when talking to his friends just how lucky he was to have two parents who adored him and his little sister more than anything.

And he loved them as well. He didn’t know what he would do if he had parents like Sirius’ who made sure to point out all the things he was doing wrong and failed to live up to their high expectations on a regular basis.

But it had been lonely growing up. He knew his family didn’t agree politically with some of the other purebloods who had children his age. He could see it in his father’s eyes, whenever he returned from Wizengamot sessions, how tired he was, from trying to stop the legislation from passing. But James never complained about having no friends his age to play with growing up. He had a little sister who was there for him, and as far as he was concerned, she was the best thing in his life.

She was so full of light and goodness. She would always try to see the good in every situation, and would refuse to take no for an answer if she were unsatisfied. She drove the house elves crazy, by insisting on baking with them from time to time, even though when she was younger she caused more damage than anything else.

And any time she would stumble upon an injured creature on the Potter grounds, she would bring it to their father, half in tears, as he would heal the creature and let her take care of it until it was well enough to return outdoors.

She was so pure of heart, and he loved Hermione more than words could describe. And it broke her heart to have her genuinely worried that he could hate her over something such as house sortings. That if she were in anything other than Gryffindor, he would hate her. Because he never could, she meant the world to him. Besides, while he could see her in Hufflepuff for her compassion, or Ravenclaw for her intelligence, he knew she was a Gryffindor at heart. He was never all that worried. And if somehow, she had managed to land herself in Slytherin, then he would move the world to make sure she had a good time in the house and never felt isolated.

Even if he hated Slytherins.

Because she deserved to be happy, no matter where she was sorted.

It didn’t stop him from being proud, however, to have her sorted into his own house, knowing it meant that she would be close to him, and that he would be able to be there for her better than he could be if she were placed in another house.

 But as her first few months at Hogwarts flew by, he noticed her friend circle with some concerning members. As while Remus had become one of her close friends, and Sirius and Peter being good friends with her as well, she had also befriended a few of the girls in her own year, such as Mary MacDonald and Alice Prewett. But what was even more concerning to him was the fact that she seemed to have taken to spending time with several Slytherins. Especially Snape. And since her assignment to have a Potions partner of Draco Black, she had often spent time studying with him as well in the library.

He didn’t know whether to laugh at her ability to make friends with even those who didn’t deserve it, or hex someone. Especially given the fact that while Sirius might have accepted Black, he did not trust Snape as far as he could hex him. Snape was bad news, and it was only a matter of time that he tried something to hurt his baby sister.

“If you stare any harder, you might cause something to set on fire,” Sirius joked, as he threw a dinner roll at him.

He blinked, looking away from the sight of his sister entering the Great Hall beside Evans and Snape. And while Evans was chatting to his sister animatedly, he couldn’t help but notice Snape scowl at her, and it made his blood broil. Who did he think he was to treat her like such?

Especially his sister, who was nothing but kind to everyone, even those who did not deserve it.

“How is she friends with so many Slytherins?” James grumbled to Sirius. “First Snape, then your cousin. It’s only a matter of time before she befriends their entire house.”

“She’s amicable,” Sirius shrugged. And he could see what his friend meant. While she didn’t have many friends within her house, he knew it was more because she was oblivious at times to them staring at her hesitantly, wanting to approach her, but ever so slightly intimidated. It made him snort, knowing his sister would gladly befriend them all, if they at least tried. It didn’t help that she was too shy to notice at times that the other girls wanted to be her friend. Why wouldn’t they, when she was nothing but kind?

“Still,” James said frowning slightly. “I don’t trust them, Sirius. What if they’re up to something? What if this is part of some sort of ploy to hurt her?”

“Do you think they would do that?” Sirius asked him cautiously. “Some of them yes, but Draco and Snape?”

“I don’t know,” James sighed.

“Draco is my cousin,” Sirius reminded him. “He might be a lot of things, but I don’t think his acquaintance with her is honestly anything more than the two of them needing to work on Potions together. Besides, he’s not a bad kid. He’s the first one of my family members who sought me out after I was sorted into Gryffindor and insisted I still talk to him.”

“Do you trust him?” James asked softly, “I know he’s your cousin, but well the rest of your family isn’t so-”

“-sane?” Sirius asked, not taking it personally, “I know how my cousin is. Bellatrix got all the insanity for their side of the family. Andromeda has always been my favourite older cousin, and Narcissa, well, she’s slightly off putting and believes in the old ways. But Draco has always been like a little brother to me. I believe him when he says he doesn’t believe in blood supremacy. I don’t think he wants to hurt Hermione.”

“Good,” James sighed, “But that doesn’t say much for Snape.”

“From what I can tell, she’s more friends with Evans than Snape,” Remus said, joining into their conversation. “Snape wants nothing to do with her.”

“He’s a slimy git,” James said, eyes narrowing.

“He wouldn’t hurt her, not physically,” Remus said softly, “Lily would never allow that.”

“But it’s emotionally that I’m worried about as well,” James mused, “I don’t want her to be hurt in any way. I don’t get how easy it is for her, to try and befriend others, despite them being Slytherins.”

“I wish it were that easy for all of us, sometimes,” Sirius said in voice so low, he almost missed it. And at the way he was staring at Regulus, it wasn’t hard to piece together what he was feeling.

“Have you tried talking to him?” James asked him softly, knowing it hurt his friend that his little brother and he weren’t speaking.

He didn’t know what he would do if Hermione was sorted into another house and then wanted nothing to do with him. He may have his other friends, but he still loved her. She was his little sister, his family. If he were to lose that, he didn’t know what he would do.

Sirius shook his head, “He would approach me if he wanted to talk, like Draco did. Instead he chooses to avoid me all together and pretend to want nothing to do with me. He made it very clear how he feels about me. Why should I try to make things any different?”

James sighed. He knew his friend wasn’t completely wrong. Regulus hadn’t done anything to try and reach out to him. But at the same time, Sirius could try and make the first move as well. If he didn’t, then how would he know what his brother truly felt, instead of what he assumed Regulus felt?

He hoped that Sirius would at least try, for both his and Regulus’ sake.

Andromeda looked around her before she quietly snuck into the secret room behind the Hufflepuff Lady. She needed to make sure no one had seen her, as it would undo years of secrecy if a single person found out her secret.

That she, Andromeda of House Black, was meeting up with a muggleborns Hufflepuff.

She wasn’t all that sure how it happened, if she were being honest. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe in blood supremacy, but that she had never actually given it all that much thought. Usually her parents and elder sister’s rants would just go in one ear and out the other as she nodded along, without really caring what they were saying.

And then one day, she found herself paired up with Ted Tonks, a Hufflepuff in her year, for Defense. And she found herself working with him more and more.

Ted Tonks was many things; he was kind to every soul, he was charming, and incredibly handsome. But more importantly, he was a muggleborns.

And it shouldn’t have mattered to her that he was, it shouldn’t have changed anything. And maybe if she only ever saw him as a class partner, it wouldn’t have changed anything. She was still the pureblood daughter of an ancient house, and he was nothing more than her classmate.

Except it did change things. She fell for him, over the course of several months, and before she knew it, he kissed her, and she found herself melting into his arms.

But he was a muggleborn, and if her family ever found out, she would be forced to leave him or leave the family, one way or another.

They would never accept that she loved him. They would never see how good of a person he was. How wonderful and brilliant. All they would ever see is his blood status. And nothing would ever be able to change that in their eyes.

And it hurt, knowing that what she was doing would end in pain. That she would lose someone she loved, be it her family, or boyfriend. That there was absolutely no way she could have them both. That she would have to choose between her sisters, brother, and cousins, or her lover.

It wasn’t fair, and she wanted to scream. Because she loved him so much, and she didn’t even know how to contain it. That all she wanted was to be with him, openly. But she couldn’t.

“Andromeda,” she heard Ted’s voice call out softly as she entered the secret room. He immediately took her in his arms, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close. She pressed her lips to his, and sighed against him. It had been a long summer without him, and even as the term began, she hadn’t been able to see Ted nearly as often as she wished she would have been able to have seen him.

“I missed you,” she sighed, as she sat down at the table he had conjured. He had gotten some butterbeer from the kitchens so that the two of them could enjoy a drink together, even if they couldn’t share one in public.

“I missed you too , Andy,” he said, taking her hand in his. “How has your week been.”

She smiled at him, as she launched into telling him all about how it had been, and about the different things that had happened, classes she had attended. She talked about how her friends were all ready to graduate and leave school, without mentioning the fear she held about the same thing, because she had no idea what it would mean for their own relationship. Because she had no idea what she would do given the end of the year when her parents would eventually begin to pressure her into marriage. Merlin forbid she consider a career, as it isn’t something a good pureblood girl would do.

She listened in turn after, when he told her all about his week and the things happening in his house.

“There’s a Hogsmeade trip coming up,” Ted said, after a moment, “I know you will say no, but will you go with me, Andromeda? Have a real date with me, in public?”

She felt her heart break at those words, knowing she might never be able to give him what he wanted, what he deserved.

“Ted,” she said softly, “You know I can’t do that. We talked about it, so many times in the past.”

“You could try telling your parents,” Ted said to her, “Maybe they’ll be more understanding than you think.”

She snorted, “My family would sooner murder the two of us for our love than they would accept us. I can’t do it, Ted. Me dating you in public would be me accepting that I never want a relationship with my family ever again. And I can’t do that, not yet. I’m not ready to push my family away forever.”

“Andy,” he said softly, pulling her close as her eyes began to water.

“I love you Teddy,” she said softly, “Isn’t that enough for now? I can’t give you more, no matter how much I want to. I can’t push away my family without knowing that my doing so I never will be able to see them ever again. And my parents can go stuff it for all I care. But I don’t know how I can give up Cissy or Draco that easily. To give up Sirius or Regulus. They’re my family.”

“Okay,” he said softly as he rubbed her back, “I can’t ask you to choose, Andy. I love you, and if you truly feel that our love will cause an ultimatum between you and your family, then I won’t ask you to choose between us. Not now.”

She kissed him softly on the mouth.

She knew a time would come, when she did need to choose between the two of them. Between who she loved more, but she wasn’t ready to make that choice just yet. And she prayed that by some miracle, she would never need to.

Regulus frowned as he watched his brother leave the Great Hall with his friends, a bright grin on his face and not a care in the world.

He didn’t understand how his big brother, who had gone from someone who worked hard to protect Regulus every day of his life, to someone who seemingly wanted nothing to do with him. For what? All because he had been sorted into a different house? All because he was a Slytherin like the rest of his family, and Sirius wasn’t?

Sirius had always been different from the rest of them. He had stirred up trouble, caused his parents grief for not being as conforming as they wanted. For not acting like a proper heir to the House of Black.

It was why Regulus had tried so hard to be perfect. For where his brother failed, his parents put extra pressure on him, to be better than their brother. To live up to all of Sirius’ shortcomings, as they liked to claim. And for all the times Sirius was punished for acting out, Regulus was expected to act properly. For if he didn’t he would be punished far worse than his brother ever was.

It was why he insisted the Sorting hat put him in Slytherin. There had been other options, of course there was. Ravenclaw was an option, and the hat even considered Gryffindor, albeit briefly. But it didn’t matter. All the Blacks went into Slytherin, and there, Regulus needed to be placed as well. He needed to make sure he was in the right house.

And while he tried so hard to please his parents, to be better than his brother, he ended up isolating the one person he cared most about.

His big brother, who Regulus looked up to, who he cared about. Who protected him when Bellatrix attempted to hex him while his parents weren’t looking. Who stood up to his parents for him when he knew they started their lectures. Who now wanted nothing to do with him.

“Can I talk to you for a moment,” Regulus asked his cousin Draco as the two of them left the Great Hall. Draco looked confused, but didn’t say anything as his cousin pulled him into a classroom and locked the door.

“What’s the matter, Cousin?” Draco asked him, looking worried.

“Has Sirius talked to you since school started?” Regulus asked him, and he could see his cousin tense up. And from the guilty look on his face, he could guess the answer. “Of course he has. It’s only me he hates. And because of him, no one wants anything to do with me. Not really. The other Slytherins barely trust me. They worry that I’m like Sirius. That I’m going to hex them all in their sleep. If it weren’t for the rest of your side of the family upholding the so called Black family name, then they’d assume me to be a blood traitor like he is.”

“Do you really think Sirius is a blood traitor?” Draco asked him, cautiously. “For befriending muggleborns and being in Gryffindor?”

He shook his head rapidly, “Of course I don’t! He’s in Gryffindor because he’s recklessly brash and brave. He makes choices without thinking of the consequences, just what he feels is right. He’s so stupidly Gryffindor that it’s hard to argue otherwise. He wouldn’t fit in Slytherin no matter how hard he’d try.”

“And his opinion on muggles?” Draco prompted, “What do you feel about that? Do you disagree? And perhaps agree with what our parents all think? That they are all unworthy of magic and our blood must be protected?”

He looked at his cousin, not sure what to say. On one hand, it could be a trap, Draco waiting for him to slip up, to say something rash. So that if Sirius were ever disowned, it would be Draco who was the heir. But then again, as Draco was older than him, he was next in line, regardless of what Regulus chose to say. And Draco had never once made him feel like he was being tested.

“No,” Regulus said after a moment. “I don’t believe that. I believe muggleborns are many things. I believe they are ignorant. That they come into our world with their own views and try too hard to change things, to make them more muggle. They celebrate Christmas, instead of Yule. Halloween instead of Samhain. They don’t know of our customs, but how can they, when they are left in the dark? There is no proper introduction for them into our world. No way for them to learn of our ways. They are even ignorant of their own blood. It is not that they have less power than us, but they are less connected to theirs. They do not bother tracing their roots to learn their family histories and find out which lines they come from. They do not make use of their family’s magic, and thus do not experience magic in its entirety. How can they be compared to us when they are not even connected fully to their own magic? They need to be brought into our world fully, if they are to truly belong. But as long as they have one foot out the door, without ever fully integrating, how can they ever have a place in our world?”

Draco was quiet for a moment, looking at him almost calculatingly, as if he were thinking upon Regulus’ words and its meanings. 

He wondered if perhaps he had said the wrong thing then. If he had admitted a fault in his own conditioning, and thus exposing his weakmindedness, as his own parents would claim. But it was too late to change any of that. Too late to take back the words he had spoken. Draco now knew the truth of just how Regulus felt about muggleborns, and how he chose to utilize that information was completely up to him.

He supposed that if Sirius had heard him now, that he would welcome him into his midst with open arms. Because as far as his parents would be concerned, he might as well be as much of a blood traitor as his brother. To his parents, the only true way of purifying their world was not to integrate muggleborns, but to eradicate them completely. That it was the only true way of keeping their world pure from muggle influences.

But at the same time how else did cultures grow, if not to embrace different ways? It was why the past empires fell, because they weren’t capable of growing and adapting, but instead succumbed to their flaws as they desperately held onto their ways.

“Well said, Cousin,” Draco said, giving him a true smile for what Regulus speculated to be the first time in months. It was as if Draco were seeing him, almost entirely for the first time. As if something in his answer had changed the way Draco thought of him.

“It’s the truth,” Regulus said, shrugging, although feeling internally uncomfortable. He wasn’t completely sure why his words had changed anything. What it had to do with anything. But somehow it had made a difference to Draco.

“I’ll talk to your brother,” Draco promised him. “I’ll tell him you wish to talk. That you wish to retain your relationship and not remove it completely because of house ties.”

“Thanks,” Regulus said, looking down.

“It’ll make a difference to him,” Draco promised him. “He loves you more than anything, and I know it hurts him that the two of you are not close any more. If he knows you feel the same way, he’ll reach out. To try and change that. He’s your big brother, Regulus. And if he can accept me despite being in a different house, then of course he can accept you for the same thing. How could he not?”

He wanted to scoff. To say that Draco was wrong. Because it was different. Draco was his cousin, and didn’t grow up with his parents as Sirius had. But it wasn’t as if Uncle Cygnus or Aunt Druella were any better. They were just as cruel, if not more distant, in their upbringing of Draco as his own parents were. If anyone understood wanting to keep one’s family, it would be Draco.

He only prayed that Sirius felt the same way, and wished for them to remain close as well.

Chapter Text

Hermione mused on Snape’s words for days after he had spoken to her outside of that classroom, confused as to what could have happened between the two boys a year ago which lead to the two hating each other.

She knew in later years it was their love for Lily Evans which drove their hatred further, but at this age, neither boys were interested in her just yet. Hell, she wasn’t even sure James was even interested in any girls romantically as of yet.

And it couldn’t be just the fact that he was in Slytherin either. The hatred was too personal for that, too deep, for it to simply be a general hatred based on houses. She knew that now their existing hatred caused them to fight further, only to make their fights worse. But she had no idea what it was that caused their original hatred for each other. What caused the two boys to be enemies in the first place.

She wondered if perhaps she had misjudged. If her friendship with Snape had more to do with her brother than she had eventually calculated. She had hoped before, that she would simply be able to befriend Severus first, and them bring him around to not hating her brother, and thus slowly changing his life based on her friendship and showing him that he needn’t go on a path where there was little coming back from.

But she saw now that it was not the case. That if she were to be friends with Snape, then she needed to heal the ever-growing rift between her brother and Snape, before she would ever be able to be friends with him. And if she left it too long, there may never be any chance for the two of them to be able to forgive each other.

At least now they were young, their hatred only festering for a year, rather than decades, as she had seen the hatred between Snape and Sirius back in 1994 when they had met again once more in the Shrieking Shack. It was why he was so unwilling to as much as even consider Sirius’ side of the story. Why he had been so ready to give him the Dementors’ kiss. Not only because of his belief that Sirius killed James and Lily by betraying them, but because of decades of hatred.

But now, it had only been a year. They didn’t have the rift caused by Snape being pushed further into the Dark Arts and the rift of having called Lily a mudblood between them. They didn’t have years of hexing and tormenting between them. They didn’t have any of that. All they had was this year of hatred.

It wasn’t as if that meant it would be easy to repair their relationship. Whatever had happened between both boys had left them both with a severe distaste for the other. So much so that Snape wasn’t even ready to give her a chance to prove that she was different. That she truly wanted to be his friend.

But would she be able to heal their rift? When others couldn’t? Was she strong enough to be able to make the boys who had hated each other so strongly be able to forgive the other, when neither had any reason to do so?

She knew James loved her, and would do almost anything for her, but she could tell from the worried looks he gave her that he didn’t trust Snape one bit. And that he was certain that the boy would hurt her. Would he be willing to at least try to forgive Snape?

Even if the boys couldn’t be friends with the drop of a hat, would they be able to let go of the vendetta between them that so strongly drove a wedge between them? Would they be able to at least try and forgive each other, even if it did not mean they would be friends, but would they at least be able to pass the other in the hallway without being sorely tempted to hex them?

She hoped for both of their sakes that the answer would be yes. That they would be able to forgive the other enough to let things go.

She took a deep breath then as she approached her brother in the Common Room, unsure of what to do or what to say. Would she be able to get her brother to listen to her, even if Snape would not? Would he at least be willing to consider putting an end to their feud?

“Jamie can I talk to you?” she said softly, ignoring the worried looks Sirius, Remus, and Peter, were exchanging with her brother. It wasn’t often that she used his nickname in public, especially when she knew very well that she was the only one who ever would be able to do so.

“Are you okay?” he asked her concerned, as he immediately stood up, “Did something happen, Hermione?”

“I need to ask you about something,” she said, as she pulled him towards the door. It wasn’t a conversation she wanted others to hear her having, especially since she had no idea what the outcome would be.

They didn’t have to walk far, going simply to an empty corridor, before she stopped to look at her brother.

“Hermione,” James said softly, turning her to face him, “What happened?”

“What happened between you and Snape last year?” she blurted out, unsure of how else to word it. “Why does he hate you so much? Why do you hate him?”

“What did he say to you?” James asked, tensing, “Did he hurt you, Hermione? I’m going to kill him. Merlin, I swear if he hurt you in any way, I’m going to bloody murder him!”

“He didn’t hurt me!” she said quickly, trying to placate her brother.

“I know he did something though,” James said, not subdued. “You’ve been looking slightly off for the last little bit. Even Remus mentioned that during your study sessions, you’ve grown quieter, talking to only Evans or to Remus, but never to Snape at all. And before you used to at least try, even if he was cold to you. So I know something happened, Hermione. What did he do to you?”

“He didn’t do anything, not really,” she said softly. “He doesn’t trust me and doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

“Why not?” James asked, angrily, “All you’ve done is try to be his friend, even if the slimy git doesn’t deserve it.”

She didn’t say anything, just then, looking down instead. How did she tell her brother that the reason Snape didn’t trust her was because he was certain she was just like James and was waiting for an opportune moment to hex him when he least expected it? There was no way she could say it, not without hurting her brother in the process. And that was absolutely the last thing she would ever want to do.

“It’s because of me isn’t it?” James asked, softly, after a moment. “He thinks that because I hate him, you are probably just doing what I want and befriending him as a part of some clever ruse to prank him.”

“Yes,” she said softly.

“I’d never do that to you, you know,” he told her softly, “I love you more than anything, Hermione. I want you to be able to have friends of your own. I’d never make you befriend anyone because of some sort of plot for vengeance.”

“I know!” she said quickly, looking at James. “You’re my big brother. You’d never hurt me like that.”

“Good,” he sighed.

“So?” she probed him. “What happened between you and Snape?”

He sighed, and ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it back. “In all honesty, I wasn’t all that pleasant the first time we met on the train. I was a bit of a git. We were sitting in the same train compartment as him and Evans, and I’d just met Sirius and was boasting how Gryffindor was the best house. And Sirius made a comment about his family, and then said maybe he’d try for Gryffindor. And I didn’t really realize what he’d meant. I’d heard of the Blacks, you know how we both have cause of Mum and all, but I never knew how bad it was until he was sorted and his parents sent him a Howler the next day. But basically, Snape wasn’t pleased that I was bashing Slytherin, and I might have not been all that kind to him when he argued with me.”

She shook her head. She had known about their first encounter from Harry witnessing Snape’s memories. But was that enough to spark their hatred for each other?

“Sirius was really upset, after he was sorted,” James told her softly. “Not because of the house he was put in, but because of his family. His parents were furious, and his cousins began to avoid him at school. I could see that it hurt him, you know? His cousin Andromeda tried from time to time to reach out to him, but Narcissa flat out ignored him. The rest of the Slytherins began to call him a blood traitor. And over what? Being placed in a different house? Blood has nothing to do with it! He just believes in the values of Gryffindor over Slytherin! And so what if he doesn’t hate people solely because of their blood? Is that supposed to make him some sort of terrible person?”

She could see the anger on James’ face, and she nodded softly. She had known the boys were like brothers, and that when Sirius eventually ran away from his home, he came to live with her and her parents because of his brotherly bond with James.

“I just wanted him to smile,” James said softly, “I wanted to show him he wasn’t alone. So the next night at dinner I pranked him, hitting him with a tickling charm so that he would laugh, at least for a bit. And it worked, after it wore off, he had the brightest smile on his face for the rest of the evening. And that night, the four of us talked, getting to know each other, truly know each other. But it also instigated a bit of a prank war between Sirius and I. He wanted retaliation for that spell that I cast on him. So at dinner the next day he hit me with a spell in return. And from that day, for the next month the two of us took turns, casting spells at the other person in return, and making it so we were competing over who would have the best prank on the other person.”

She sighed softly, having a decent idea where the story was going.

“It was after charms one day, on our way to lunch, and I tried to hit Sirius with the dancing charm, to cause him to break into dance moves and be unable to stop. But my aim was off when casting it, since Peter was in a rush to get to lunch and bumped into me as the spell was being cast. And instead of hitting Sirius, I hit Snape. And he, who hadn’t been expecting it, fell down the stairs. It was horrible, you know, he broke his legs, and I didn’t know what to do. He was in the hospital for three days after, missing all his classes. And I tried to apologise afterwards, to tell him I didn’t mean to hex him. But he wouldn’t hear it. Instead he hexed me and walked away.  He never forgave me, and eventually I grew tired of trying to apologise and having him curse me in return. Maybe I should have tried harder, but I stopped feeling bad after he intentionally hexed me for the sixth time, you know? Mine was bad, and it was an accident. But I truly didn’t mean for him to be hurt. But he cursed me maliciously,” James said softly.

“Oh Jamie,” she murmured, hugging her brother. She could see why Snape was so angry, so unwilling to forgive him for what had happened. But it had truly been an accident on James’ part. And maybe, just maybe, she would be able to convince Snape that he didn’t mean any harm. That it was horrible that it happened, but it was truly a mistake.

But when her own brother wasn’t able to convince him to listen, would she be able to?

Hermione sighed as she sat beside Mary MacDonald in their Transfiguration lecture. She was bored out of her mind, if she admitted it to herself.

She never thought she would see the day where learning bored her. Where she wanted her classes to end so she didn’t need to do so anymore. If Hermione Potter told Hermione Granger’s eleven-year-old self that one day she’d wish for her to magically just be done the learning part of her life, she’d have laughed in her face.

She supposed it was due to the repetition. If perhaps she were learning new things, more advanced things, she’d appreciate the challenge. But to her, it was horrible, having to relearn things she had learned years ago, albeit in another life. But she still hated it.

She wondered, if perhaps she’d be able to ask for extra credit assignments instead, for more advanced lectures. She never formally was able to complete her seventh year of schooling. So perhaps she’d be able to start learning those spells instead.

Or if she took on side projects, just to keep her sanity.

Because quite frankly, she wasn’t sure how she was supposed to survive the next six years, when she had barely made it through three months.

It was horrible, if she were to admit it to herself, just trying to make sure she didn’t shine too brightly. But the perfectionist in her hated not being able to show that she knew how to do something. To be at the top as Hermione Granger had been. All she wanted to do was be able to prove herself, but she couldn’t. not without jeopardizing them all.

It was why she felt her eyes begin to drop in their Transfiguration lecture that day. It wasn’t that the class wasn’t interesting. She had adored it their first time around. But taking it again now, all she wanted to do was close her eyes and nap through it.  And the last thing she could afford do to was start missing lectures. It would only raise more questions as to why she wasn’t trying or applying herself, when her teachers knew very well that she was smart.

She closed her eyes just then, hoping for a moment of rest, for a moment when she could forget that she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. That when she awoke Harry and Ron would be beside her, and she would be the age she had once been before the ritual once more. That magically the world would have been fixed, and the threat of extinction and death would never have existed.

That she could live the life she had wanted, free of war and fighting, and having to save everyone, would finally have arrived.

Instead, when she was nudged awake moments later, she found herself back in that Transfiguration classroom, with Mary beside her, looking at her in concern. She gave her friend a look to suggest that she was okay, that it was an accident, and not Hermione wishing more than anything, that she would be able to return to a world that had never existed, and now a world that never would exist.

Draco sat in a secluded section of the common room, trying to finish his Transfiguration readings as he struggled to keep reading. He knew he needed to keep up the pretense of studying, for if he were to suddenly pull in top marks without putting in any effort, it most certainly would draw all sorts of attention. And it would be attention he very much did not need or want to be attract.

He wasn’t an idiot. Even with Granger insisting on making sure before they left the future to make sure he was aware that he would actually need to try when it came to school and not just coast. He knew very well that he’d actually need to put in some sort of effort without just hoping for the best.

He still wasn’t happy, however. Studying wasn’t all that interesting. Not when he had already known all the material from before. Not when he very much didn’t want to be doing so.

But he was stuck in the past, so what other choice did he have. He needed to make a life here. For he’d either try trying to save the future or be stuck living in a time that was not his own originally. He was a Black, and he knew very well, just as his time as a Malfoy, he wouldn’t need to work if he had no desire to do so. But he wasn’t the heir to the house anymore. He couldn’t just simply become Lord Black and sit on the Wizengamot and let that become his life. If he survived all of this, he’d be stuck in the 20^th century, with no escape. He had to go through his OWLs once more, and finally take his NEWTs as he had failed to do so his first time around.

He sighed to himself. He might not like Granger all that much, but he was grateful for her presence. That she was back in time with him. Because in all honestly, he wasn’t all that sure how he’d managed to cope without anyone who understood just what was going on in his head. He wasn’t sure how he’d survive if he thought it was up to him, and him alone, to save the entire bloody future.

Sure, he’d only have one other person with him, so he still was pretty alone. But it was comforting, in a way, to know there was another person who understood his struggle all too well and understood what it was like to be inn a time that needed to become his own, but wasn’t completely.

“Black,” he heard a courteous voice call out, and immediately he was filled with dread, recognizing that voice all too well.

“Malfoy,” he said, looking up, as he closed his book, to be faced with his father.

He knew Lucius Malfoy was in his house. He had even seen him around from time to time. But as he was a first year, he’d managed to avoid gaining his father’s attention, and thus managed to avoid being confronted with the man who’d stood by and watched his mother be murdered. With the man who had, with the help of the other Death Eaters, taken control of the Wizarding World, and had thus, doomed them all, with hatred and prejudice.

And seeing his father, standing there in front of him, so young, and somewhat innocent of the things that he would once do, of the things Draco hated him more than anything for, stung. Because this boy was not the same as the man who had done all those things. This boy, if Draco succeeded, would never be able to come close to accomplishing half the things that he had done. But it didn’t make him any more innocent of them either. There was no point in Lucius Malfoy’s life, that he had turned from good to evil, that had caused him to go onto this treacherous path, as was the case with some of the others in this time. Lucius Malfoy would always end up on the same path, even if he took a few different decisions to get there.

For one, he was certain he’d never allow himself to have gotten arrested in the first place, in 1996. Nor would he have earned Lord Voldemort’s wrath as he had. Or perhaps he would have called Voldemort to their home sooner when Potter was brought in.

However, if Voldemort never fell, Lucius never would have made it to the top as he had.

But he supposed it was fair to say that Lucius Malfoy always would end up how he did.

And even if he could save his father, he wasn’t all that sure he wanted to.

“As you know,” Lucius drawled, sitting beside Draco uninvited. “Our families are to beginning drawing up a courting arrangement between your elder sister and I. After our graduation, Andromeda and I will be wed, and you and I will be family.”

Draco wanted to snort, knowing fully well that Andromeda would sooner give up her entire family than be married to Lucius Malfoy.

“I have yet to have received that news from my parents,” Draco admitted cautiously. For he knew Andromeda had no idea of the matter yet, either.

Lucius did not seem concerned with that, and simply waved his hand, “It is no matter. I’m sure your parents are waiting for things to be more finalized before you are informed.”

“I see,” Draco said slowly. “So why is it that you have sought out me, and not my elder sister?”

“Because we are to be family,” Lucius told him in a tone that left no room for doubt. “Because your cousin foolishly runs around, brandishing a wand, and declaring his love for mudbloods at every turn. Because it’s only a matter of time before your grandfather grows sick of his foolishness, and dispels him from your family, and disinherits him. Before Sirius Black is no longer the heir to your house. And as the second eldest male in your family, that leaves you as next in line as heir.”

Draco looked up at Lucius in surprise. As far as Draco was aware, Arcturus had never formally disinherited Sirius in the old timeline, meaning he still very much was the heir to the House of Black. But Lucius was correct. If something were to change, it would be Draco who became the head of the house in the future.

“I see,” Draco said coolly. “So if this scenario where to happen, what is it that you would want?”

“I simply wish to provide you with an alliance, Draco,” Lucius said, smiling at him softly, in a way that made him want to hex his father there and then. “As I am graduating this year, and am quite a bit older than you, perhaps in time you may come to think of me as an older brother of sorts. Perhaps I’d be able to mentor you and provide you with instruction in a way your cousin would not. And as political allies, the two of us would be quite strong together.”

Draco wanted to snort. Sirius Black would not be disinherited this time around, not if he could help it. He would make sure his Aunt and Uncle had no chance of kicking him out of the family. If there was one ally Sirius never sought out before, it had been his grandfather. Perhaps Sirius had been too afraid to do so, sure that his grandfather would have the same reaction his own family held for him. But Draco was certain that swaying Arcturus Black had everything to do with shaping the path of the future for the Black family.

“If such a time where my cousin was to be disinherited were to occur, then I would be glad to be your ally,” Draco said, looking up at him. “But until then, Sirius Black is still the heir to the House of Black. Perhaps you need to be making alliance with him instead.”

“Well said,” Lucius said softly, almost calculatingly. “Enjoy the rest of your evening, Draco.”

“As you, Lucius,” Draco said never breaking eve contact with his father.

He knew his older sister Andromeda would never marry Lucius Malfoy. But he hoped for his mother’s sake, Narcissa wouldn’t have to either.

Chapter Text

Draco sighed to himself as he dredged himself through the Great Hall. He had been plagued with nightmares the night before, worrying about the future that was yet to come. He had been plagued with nightmares of his mater, begging him to save her, as Bellatrix killed her once more.

And then all of a sudden it wasn’t her as his mother who died. It was her as his older sister, dying in his arms once more, as his oldest sister killed her with a spell that left her writhing in pain. And in his dreams, she had looked up at him, begging him to save her, and he couldn’t. He couldn’t save his sister, and once again she had died, in his arms.

He had woken up, sweating profusely, as he immediately threw a silencing charm around his bed and sat up. It had been horrifying, to see it happen so realistically, and he hated knowing that it was only the beginning. They had barely done enough to make a difference, to truly change things yet. And if he failed his current mission, they were destined to repeat the same failures they had the first time around. It was only really a matter of time before it happened again.

And that meant many more nights of restlessness. Many more nights where he was plagued with terrors and haunted by his fears.

He felt scared in that moment, terrified of what was to come. He was barely twelve years old, thanks to the ritual, and he had to bring down the greatest terror that had haunted the wizarding world. Even Grindelwald didn’t seem as terrible in comparison to Voldemort. After all, while Grindelwald had terrorized all of Europe, he had been kept at bay from England’s shores, thanks to his fear of Albus Dumbledore. But Voldmort had ruined Britain in a way that even Grindelwald wouldn’t have been able to have done.

He was scared. He wouldn’t admit that to Granger or even to Potter before the ritual had been cast, but he was terrified of having such a burden hanging over him. Such a burden of having to save everyone so they didn’t succumb to a fate that would lead to all of their deaths.

He sighed to himself. He could do this, he had to do this. He had to be able to save them. This was his only chance to be able to do so, and he knew if he failed, it would be devastating.

So instead he decided to channel his attention to something he could fix. He couldn’t fix the Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry. He couldn’t make the prejudiced housemates of his any less prejudiced. Nor could he stop Voldemort when Voldemort was still in the shadows.

But what he could do was get his cousins to start talking again.

He knew it was tearing away at Regulus, that Sirius ignored him profusely every time he passed them in the halls, or would acknowledge Draco but not Regulus. He knew it hurt him, to know that Sirius had bothered to forgive his cousin, but not his own brother. And for what it was worth, Draco didn’t blame either of the brothers. Both were scared in their own way of reaching out and being rejected. Sirius, for not being like his family, was afraid Regulus would want nothing to do with him. And Regulus, for being like the rest of the family Sirius hated, was afraid of the same thing.

If only the two could see that despite their houses, they had so much in common. But both boys were equally stubborn, and he knew that neither would make the first move if the other didn’t.

It was why they never reconciled in the first place. Sirius and Regulus grew apart after years of avoiding the other, but in the end, none of it mattered. Both boys died by Voldemort’s indirect hand. In the end, they parted ways thinking the other still hated them.

But now, it had only been three months. It had only been three months of the other ignoring them, instead of nearly a decade. And three months of damage and ignorance was nothing compared to the many childhood years they had before that. He just needed to get them both to try to talk to the other. To show both boys that they aren’t as different as they thought.

Which is how he found himself pulling Sirius aside after their meal.

“What is it?” Sirius asked him immediately, looking concerned at the worried look on Draco’s face. “Did something happen? Did someone say something to you? Did they hurt you?”

He nearly smiled at the boy he considered to be like an older brother’s concern.

“Was it someone I know?” Sirius said, eyes darkening, as he immediately drew his wand.

“No!” Draco said quickly, “It’s nothing like that. I just need to talk to you, Sirius. I need to talk to you about something important.”

“Do you have a crush on someone?” Sirius asked him, eyes widening, a large grin forming on his face. “And you need your older cousin’s help to get her?”

“What?” Draco blanched, “No! I’m twelve! I don’t like anyone!”

“If you say so, little cousin,” Sirius grinned, as they walked into an empty corridor. “So who’s on your mind, Mate?”

“Regulus,” Draco said softly, “Sirius, I’m worried about Regulus.”

Sirius’ eyes darkened once more at the mention of his brother.

“What’s he got to do with me?” Sirius asked him cautiously.

“He’s your brother,” Draco reminded him.

“I’m aware,” Sirius said warily, “But he made it very clear that he doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

“He did no such thing,” Draco said softly. “He’s afraid to talk to you, Sirius. He thinks you hate him for being in Slytherin.”

“Because that house is nothing but dark!” Sirius exclaimed, unhappily.

“Says you,” Draco countered. “I’m a Slytherin.”

“You’re an exception!” Sirius argued.

“I’m your cousin,” Draco stated. “He’s your brother, Sirius.”

“Yes, but Narcissa and Bellatrix barely acknowledged me either,” Sirius reminded him. “Whether you like it or not, you and Andromeda are the exceptions to our family. And even Andromeda never forced me to listen to her. She just acknowledges me from time to time. You are the only one who insisted that we remain as family, even if I am a blood traitor.”

“Don’t call yourself that,” Draco said angrily.

“I am one though,” Sirius reminded him. “I don’t hate people based on their blood.”

“That doesn’t make you a blood traitor,” Draco said firmly, “It makes you a decent wizard.”

When Sirius said nothing, Draco continued, “Look, Sirius. You’re right. I don’t have any idea what it must have been like for you over the past year by yourself. I don’t know exactly how your mother has been treating you either. But I can tell you that Regulus has always looked up to you, more than any one. He thinks the world of you, and I can guarantee that he most certainly does not hate you for your house. If he were to hate your house, it would be because of the chasm it’s causing between the two of you. Think of it from his point of view. Before you left for school, the three of us were so close. And then we get here, and instead you’ve proclaimed James Potter as your best friend, and brother, and ignored the two of us. You only talk to me now because I cornered you and all but forced you not to ignore me because we’re family. You’ve always been everything to Regulus, and now you want nothing to do with him. He’s terrified of losing you, but even more terrified that if he were to talk to you, to beg you to still treat him like family, that you would reject him. That you would tell him you want nothing to do with him.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Sirius stiffened. “If he told me he didn’t hate me, and that he wanted us to still be brothers, then I wouldn’t push him away.”

“You tried to push me away for the same reason,” Draco reminded me. “Look, Sirius, it’s the same reason why you won’t approach him. Because you are just as scared as he is. You don’t want to lose him.”

“How do you even know,” Sirius said, after a moment. “That he feels the same way? That you aren’t just projecting because you want things to go back to the way they once were. Before when we were young?”

“Because I’m not,” Draco said firmly. “Because is it so wrong if I did want things to go back to how they were? I loved playing with the two of you when we were younger. Merlin knows my own sisters had no idea how to play with a boy. Narcissa always wanted to play with her dolls, and Bella and Andy were too old to want to play with me. I loved you both more than anything. You’re my brothers. What’s wrong with wishing we could go back to that?”

He paused, “I know that he feels the same way, Sirius, because he told me. Because he was so hurt to realize that you and I were still on speaking terms, when you won’t even look at him. I’ve never seen anyone looks so crushed as he did, then, Sirius. He was so hurt, to think that you didn’t want anything to do with him. To think that you hated him so much, simply because of the house he had been placed in. Sirius, he loves you, and all he’s ever wanted is your approval. Don’t deny him as your family because you’re scared. Your brother is not the same as your mother and father. He’s terrified of upsetting them, but that doesn’t mean he believes in the same things as they do. It means he’s terrified of what would happen if he did the same things you did. He always got away with far less than you did. They hate that you’re the rebel child, but they’ve accepted it. But when Regulus rebels, it’s worse for him because they expect him to be better. He’s so scared of what would happen if he failed to live up to all the pressure he’s under. Just talk to him? Please? If you find that he is as terrible as you think, that he hates you and is disgusted with you, then okay. You never need to have anything to do with him ever again. But at least give him the chance to prove you wrong.”

Sirius looked speechless at that, unsure of what to say in response to that.

“Okay,” Sirius said after a moment. “I’ll try to talk to him, Draco. But don’t get your hopes up. It probably won’t end the way you’re hoping it will.”

Draco grinned brightly at that, as he pulled Sirius into a hug.

It was still a long way to go before all the broken parts of the past were healed, but at least he was trying to fix his family, piece by piece. And hopefully, it would make a difference in the end. Hopefully, it would be enough to save them.

If Hermione said she wasn’t taking advantage of having Draco as a study partner, she would be lying.

Yes, she liked having someone who could keep up with her in class as her partner. It helped so that she wasn’t constantly forced to try and overly slow herself down because her partner wasn’t able to keep up with her, not just because she tried more than they did, but also due to her own experience with the material already.

But Draco was another story. He had been the second in their year back in the 1990’s, and more than anyone, he as able to keep up with her. But in addition to that, she had the benefit of knowing he was in the same position as she was, stuck in a time that was not their own, for the rest of their lives. It made it easier to study with him, as he not only had all the makings of a good study partner, but he also understood her in a way the others could not. He understood her pain and her losses. He understood her fears.

It was easy to vent her anger at him, at why James and Snape had their entire feud, over nothing more than a stupid prank gone wrong. She could vent about how it was killing her to be so advanced in their subject material. Or how she hated having to listen to Snape make fun of her, casually, day after day, for something she couldn’t control. It wasn’t her fault her brother hated Snape. She didn’t ask for them to hate each other as they did. Hell, it would make her life easier if they weren’t fighting. But instead she was stuck trying to fix a friendship that had never existed in the first place.

“Potter,” she heard Draco’s voice call out from above her. She had managed to secure a section of the library which was less crowded than the others and gotten her and Draco a table to study at for when they worked on Potions once a week. She supposed she could have invited him over to Lily and Snape’s table, but she already felt so out of place because of Snape. The last thing she needed to do was push the bounds further.

“Black,” she said, looking up from her Advanced Potions book, to see not only Draco there, but Regulus Black. “I see you brought your cousin.”

“I hope you don’t mind,” Draco said breezily, “He mentioned having to do his Potions essay too and asked if he could join us.”

Or in other words, as Regulus shuffled behind Draco, his cousin needed some friends, and Draco wanted him to feel less alone.

How could she blame him for that, really? The whole point of their plan was to go back in time to be able to fix what had broken the first time. To make friendships that hadn’t existed, and to strengthen those that did. And if Regulus felt isolated, he would be even easier to poach to the Dark Side. It was probably one of the reasons he had in the first place. Because he felt alone as his brother befriended hers, and he had no one who would stand by him.

And if a friendship with her and Draco would help him feel less alone, would help him reconcile with his brother, then who was she to push him away?

And as the boy stood there, shyly, she couldn’t help but have her heart go out to him. It was the same way she had felt in her own house, afraid of the others and whether they would accept her or not, all those years ago.

She smiled at Regulus instead, “I’m Hermione, Hermione Potter,” she introduced herself to him.

“Regulus Black,” he said, looking a little guarded. “It’s okay if you don’t want me to study with you. I can always find another table.”

“It’s fine, Regulus,” she insisted. “I don’t mind having you work with us. Besides, it would be nice to meet more people in other houses.”

“Even Slytherins?” Regulus said, sounding a bit dubious, and she didn’t blame him. It wasn’t often that anyone in another house would admit to wanting to be the friend of someone in his house.

“I’m working with Draco, aren’t I?” she countered. “I don’t care what house you’re in. I care about what kind of person you are. Now, are you going to call me a blood traitor for being friends with muggleborns?”

“No,” Regulus said quickly.

“Are you going to hex me when I’m not looking, in order to brag to your friends that you hurt a Gryffindor when she wasn’t expecting it? Or to get even with my brother?” Hermione asked again, and Draco gave her an irked look.

“Why would I do that?” Regulus asked her, looking genuinely puzzled.

“Good,” she smiled at him. “See, you’re a decent enough of a bloke. So why wouldn’t I want to get to know you.”

He studied her carefully, unsure of what to make of her or her words, before saying, “You’re different, Potter. The rest of your house wouldn’t have hesitated to have hexed me just for trying to approach them.”

“Have you been hexed many times before, by those in my house?” Hermione asked him curiously, eyes flashing.

He didn’t say much, and Hermione could all but guess his answer from his silence.

“Look, Regulus. I don’t have a lot of friends either. And it would be nice to be able to make more. Especially given that some of the students in your house hate me by association. So it’s nice to know that not everyone thinks of me as a miniature version of my brother, ready to hex them all without a moment’s notice,” Hermione told him softly, “Besides, it would be nice having more people to study with. Lily and Snape are nice, but they are a year older than me. And while they can help with concepts I don’t understand, it’s nice to be able to study with those my own age.”

He nodded at her, “I agree,” he told her softly. “I’d like to join you both then, if that’s alright.”

“It is,” Draco said quickly, as Hermione nodded in agreement.

Even if it would be hard for Sirius and Regulus to make amends right away, at least she could make sure her brother’s best friend’s younger brother felt a little bit less alone.

She stared back at Slughorn as he walked around the room assessing their Forgetfulness Potions. She wanted to sigh, as Draco added in their final ingredients, waiting for their potion to change colours, as she waved her wand over it to add the magical component to the spell. A memory charm worked best for the potion, but in all honesty, she was curious what would happen if she were to try other things.

She knew what worked all too well. But she wanted to know what didn’t work. What happened if other spells were tied to it, then what would happen? And while she never would use and unforgiveable curse, she couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if something like the Imperius curse was added to the potion. Would it cause the recipient to no longer remember what was happening, and be forced to do the potion maker’s biding? Or would it completely back fire and blow up? Or would the two almost cancel each other out, rendering the potion useless?

She wanted to be able to experiment more with the different potions, but it was hardly the time or the place. Perhaps later, she could set up a private lab in the Room of Requirements, one that no one would be able to stumble upon. One which she could use to try and modify spells and potions to her hearts content.

But for now, she was forced to complete the spells and potions they needed without any altering. Merlin forbid she try something and it work, then she gained the attention of her teachers in the process. It was the absolute last thing they needed to do.

“Good work, Miss Potter, Mr Black,” Slughorn boomed, as he approached them. “Once again, you’ve both managed to outshine all your classmates!”

If only. It wasn’t as if either of them had been trying all that hard. They had slowed down their usual speed, and even used somewhat crude techniques for their potion, enough to throw it off ever so slightly. They had even purposefully almost missed a few steps, only for the other to loudly call them out.

And still, here they were.

It wasn’t as if their other classmates had a fair advantage. But at the same time, it was just as it had been back in her time. The only difference was who they were now, and that they were working together without hexing one another.

“Can I see you both after class?” Slughorn asked them, as the others began to pack up their bags.

Hermione exchanged a look with Malfoy and he nodded at her. As the classroom cleared out, Slughorn began to speak, “I don’t know what either of you have heard from your older siblings, but I’ve been known to hold small get-togethers in my classrooms from time to time. You know, so that I can introduce my current students to former students of mine. To be able to give them mentors for fields that they wish to pursue. And with your talents, I think the two of you have bright futures ahead of you both. I would love it if you would join me next Friday for one of them.”

She felt herself grow annoyed. She had grown to hate Slughorn’s gatherings when she was in her sixth year, as he had taken to showing her off as a prized muggleborn, achieving great things, despite something so unfortunate as her blood status. And it had made her skin want to crawl. But she wasn’t like the others in her year. She didn’t have the advantage of familial lines to get her through the door. And if an introduction through Slughorn would help her get her foot through the door, then she would be damned if she didn’t take full advantage of it.

But now, she felt herself growing less patient. She didn’t want to have to endure seven more years of Slughorn’s soirees on top of seven more years of schooling. She wanted nothing more than to throw his invitation back in his face. But she knew very well that she could not.

“Thank you for extending an invitation,” Draco said smoothly for them both. “We would be honoured to attend.”

Slughorn beamed at them both, before turning to leave them both. And as soon as he was out of hearing range, she let out a groan.

“I really don’t want to,” she admitted to him, as she packed up his bag. “His soirees are awful.”

“So I’ve heard,” Draco said, giving her a sympathetic look, “From what my sisters tell me, it’s not all that better in this time either.”

“What if we just didn’t go,” she said, knowing it was a longshot.

“You know as well as I do that influential people are going to be there,” he reminded her, “People who we would otherwise not have access to. Whether we like it or not, it is a good opportunity for reaching out and making more prominent friends. Besides, a few of the early Death Eaters might be there, and we might be able to get a gage on just where Voldemort’s plans stand currently.”

“I guess,” she said despondently. “You do have a good point when you put it like that. We knew when Voldemort rose to power in the old time, but we don’t have a good understanding of what happened before he emerged from the shadows. Of what is going on right now, outside these walls. Going to the part would be a good way of finding out just what is happening out there, if we run into the right people.”

He gave her a grin, and she glowered back at him. “I might agree to going,” she said, with a huff, “But I don’t like it one bit. And even if I’m smiling the entire time through the night, just know that I hate being there more than anything in the world.”

“Okay,” he said with a laugh, “But at least you won’t be suffering all by yourself. You’ll have me at that party to suffer through everything with you.”

She gave him a look, as she sighed, “I suppose I will.”

The times would begin to change soon, whether Hermione liked it or not, and she could only hope that she would be ready when they did.

Chapter Text

Hermione was getting tired of waiting for an apology. It had nearly been a month since Snape had run into her and all but told her how much he hated her. And that didn’t account for the frosty looks he kept giving her during her attempts at studying with them, or the fact that he would glare at her in the hallways.

She was tired of his ratty behaviour and him acting like he had some sort of moral high ground because she had wronged him. Because her brother had wronged him, and he had found himself on the wrong side of James’ wand one too many times.

She had tried swallowing it down and hoping that once he got to know her that he would be able to see past their differences. That he would give her a chance. But she could see now that it wasn’t going to happen. That he already made his mind up about her and her family, and perhaps nothing would ever change that.

It was easy to see why the first time around James and Snape were never able to reconcile their differences. Both boys were far too stubborn to even consider such a thing. Both boys were far too prideful to try and put aside their hard feelings for each other and even try to make amends.

And why would they? They were twelve years old and had no reason to be nice to each other. They were in different houses, and as neither side had ever tried to make things right, then why would the other?

It wasn’t as if either side knew what it would mean for their futures. That her big brother would end up hunted by one of the worst monsters alive, and the other would serve him, due to his isolation in school, and his need to be powerful because of the way he was treated in school.

They were far too young to understand such a thing.

It was why she had shrugged of James’ comments when he worried about her friendship with so many Slytherins. Yes, not all of them were good, but all of them did not need to be condemned by the actions of a few. It was the whole isolation of their house by the rest of their school, including by their Headmaster, which had pushed them further into Voldemort’s grasp. It was the fact that everyone already treated them like they were evil.

It didn’t mean that they couldn’t be pretentious. There was a reason the rest of the students didn’t like Slytherins. And that reason was that the majority’s views already did align with Voldemort and that blood purity was everything.

But perhaps having different political views wouldn’t have been enough to push them straight into Voldemort’s grasp if they didn’t feel as if everyone already hated them anyways. Perhaps they might have been, at the very least, non-violent about their views.

She sighed.

She knew she couldn’t fix the tension between Gryffindors and Slytherins overnight. But at the very least, she prayed that she would be able to unify them enough not to consider a friendship between a few members of each house as such a strange feat. And perhaps, in time, it would be able to encourage more friendships between members of different houses. Perhaps even encourage something more, in several cases.

Namely, a friendship between James and Snape. Because clearly, her relationship to either of them would not be enough for the boys to put aside their differences.

And she’d be damned if she spent another session listening to Snape bash her brother without mercy. Especially when he wasn’t even there to defend himself.

And while she, Hermione Granger, might only have known her brother for a short while, she was still Hermione Potter too. Those memories of the two of them growing up together actually happened. They were real. Her brother, despite being misguided at times, was a good person. He loved with his entire heart and would fight to the death for the people he cared about. And she knew he loved her more than anything. That he would protect her from anything. And she’d be damned if she refused to fight for him the same way. Because he was her big brother, and despite never actually having any biological siblings in her first life, she still had Harry and Ron, whom she loved as brothers. And she would have died for them. She came back in time for them, so that one day they, and the rest of the world, could live a normal life without having to fight the battles she had. The battles she still would have to fight. She would be damned if she refused to fight for James the same way she knew he would protect her from all harm.

And if that meant making sure Snape had no reason to ever bad mouth her brother ever again, then she would do so. She refused to simply stand by and let him say all kinds of horrid things about James. Especially when she knew that if anyone said the same things about her, then James would not hesitate to defend her honour. And did she not owe it to him to do the same thing?

So she sighed to herself. She knew that what she was about was definitely not going to be easy. There was a reason why neither boy had bothered trying to reconcile as of yet. Because they didn’t want to, because they didn’t care enough to, and because they had no reason to try and be nice to a person who wouldn’t hesitate to hex them given the chance.

And she wished she could easily say that one boy was in the wrong. That one was clearly right and the other was being unreasonable in their hatred. It would be a lot easier to change the mind of one person. But she had two boys whom she needed to convince to forgive the other. And that definitely would not be a small feat. Especially when those boys were James Potter and Severus Snape.

“James,” she said, breaking out of her thoughts, as she looked up at her older brother. It was one of the few times he had bothered going to the library, and she knew he was only there because she had begged him to help her on her transfiguration essay. And when Remus had offered so that James didn’t have to, she gave her brother the most sisterly look she could muster, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to resist.

She didn’t like to use her power as his younger sister over him often. Especially when she knew how easy it could be to manipulate him if she actually wanted to. And why would she want to? Most of the time, he would readily agree to the things she asked because they weren’t things he would second guess having to do.

But asking him to spend an evening in the library was one thing. When he found out what she had up her sleeve truly, she prayed he wouldn’t hate her.

James wasn’t looking at her, however but at Snape and Lily who had spotted her and James at what had been their table previously. And while it wasn’t uncommon for the two of them to meet her at the table, it was most certainly uncommon for her to have James Potter with her.

Especially when both of them had made it plenty clear that they only liked her because she was tolerable, and her brother not so much.

“Potter,” Snape said, as he approached them. “I see you brought your brother along with you. What, did you need protection from the big bad Slytherin?”

James shifted, looking uncomfortable, and she didn’t blame him.

“Is he staying?” Lily asked, looking slightly uncertain of how to proceed.

“I needed some help with transfiguration,” Hermione said with a slight shrug. “Is that a problem?”

“It is when he’s sitting at my table,” Snape sneered, looking at her pointedly. “For Salazar’s sake, Potter. You on your own are barely tolerable. And yet you brought your brother who wouldn’t hesitate in hexing the rest of us without a moment’s notice. I’m hardly going to be cheering with joy.”

“Don’t speak to her like that,” James said, glaring at Snape. “Hate me all you want. But don’t take it out on her. She’s done nothing to you.”

“She’s related to you, isn’t she?” Snape said irked. “I feel that in itself would be more than enough to confirm my distaste for your sister.”

“Your point being?” James said, looking unimpressed. “Look Snape. I’m here because my sister asked me to help her with something. If I had known there was a possibility of you being here, then I wouldn’t have come. Get off your bloody high broom. You’re not some sort of bloody saint. I know you’ve been snubbing Hermione for weeks, treating her like trash.”

Hermione shot her brother a worried look, confused about how he knew, when she had barely told him what had happened.

“Please, do you think Remus wouldn’t tell me that Snape’s been giving you backhanded insults every five minutes?” James said, looking at his sister. “I also know you said something to her that made her upset. And she wouldn’t admit it to me, so don’t you dare start in on her for that too. But you said something to her, and I want to know what it was.”

“What did you say to her?” Lily asked, sounding a little horrified at the idea of Snape confronting her, probably knowing all too well the kinds of things he could have said to her.

“I told her the bloody truth,” Snape yelled out, and Hermione placed a silencing charm around them, not wanting Madam Pince to come over and kick them all out. Not when she needed them to talk through certain things. “That none of us want her here. That the only reason people tolerate her is because of who her brother is. That Lupin only hangs around because Potter probably asked him to make sure his sister was okay while hanging out with so many Slytherins. That Lily only tolerates her because she’s too kind to say otherwise. But your bloody sister won’t take a hint and stop hanging out where she isn’t wanted.”

She couldn’t say it didn’t sting hearing the words said aloud once more.

“It’s not true,” James said, immediately turning to his sister. “Yes, I was worried about your choice in friends, but I never once asked Remus to hang out with you for that reason. Nor would he do so. He thinks of you as a friend, Hermione. He wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Nor would I,” Lily said, looking at her, slightly in shock, “I might not have trusted you at first, but I wouldn’t hang out with you out of pity. You seemed like a genuinely good person and make for a good study partner.”

“Thanks,” Hermione said, looking down.

“Look, hate me all you want,” James said to Snape, as he wrapped an arm around his sister. “But don’t you bloody dare say a word against my sister. Merlin knows she’s a better person than any of us could even dream of being. She’s done nothing to deserve your anger.”

“Except have a brother who wouldn’t hesitate to hex others for no bloody reason,” Snape sneered, looking a little started by James’ defense of her.

“For Godric’s sake, Snape. It was a bloody accident. I meant to hit Sirius but Peter bumped into me and I hit you that day. I wouldn’t have cursed you for no bloody reason. That’s too bloody horrid, even for me. But you never let me try to explain and cursed me any time I tried, so I gave up. I might have been rude to you on the train, and I apologise for that and for cursing you that one time, but the rest of them were in retaliation for your curses.”

“How convenient,” Snape said, looking slightly unsure of himself. “Of course you have a reason that justifies breaking my legs.”

“It doesn’t justify it!” James argued, “Weren’t you listening? It was meant to hit Sirius who was nowhere near the stairs. No one was supposed to get hurt. Certainly not you. I am truly sorry for doing so. And you can hate me for that for the rest of my bloody life. I don’t care. But don’t hate her for my mistakes. Don’t hate her because you and I don’t have a good reason.”

He turned to her then, “Do you want to study with them still?” James asked her softly, “I can help you later with your essay if you want, but it might be for the best if I left now. I don’t want to make things harder for you than they already are.”

She smiled at her brother, “I should probably come with you. I’ve been meaning to talk to Mary about our herbology project and now’s as good of a time as any.”

She gave Lily a soft smile, and nodded at Snape as to not be rude, but followed her brother out of the library. She knew she had given Snape a lot of think about, especially as James had apologised. And she knew while she had laid the seeds of forgiveness, it was up to Snape if he wished to accept the apology or continue the feud between them.

And she prayed for all of their sakes that he would accept it.

Hermione sighed as she pulled on the dress robes she had packed. She was grateful to her mother for insisting she take a pair with her to school, saying that she never knew when she would have a reason to dress up, and that it always came in handy to have a pair that she could use if she ever needed it.

Not that she wanted to be going to Slughorn’s dinner in the first place. If it were up to her, then she’d be peacefully spending the night in the Tower, reading about something or the other.

She most certainly didn’t want to go, and part of her wanted to take her brother’s offer of a light sneezing spell would be enough to make sure she could spend the night in the hospital, and not at Slughorn’s.

“You look really nice,” Mary offered, as she sat on the bed and watched Hermione do her hair up. “I’m jealous you have a chance to wear such nice robes.”

“I wish I didn’t have to go,” Hermione said, pouting slightly.

“I heard he invites famous people to his dinners!” Mary gushed. “You could meet some famous quidditch players! Some of them are really attractive, Hermione!”

“They’re all so much older than us,” Hermione said, wrinkling her nose.

“But cute,” Mary said with a grin.

Hermione rolled her eyes, “I should get going. Black’s waiting for me. I don’t want to keep him waiting for too long.”

Mary laughed, “Have fun, Hermione!”

Hermione grinned at her, before grabbing her wand and heading out of the Gryffindor tower. As she approached Draco, he gave her a quick grin.

“Trying to be as late as possible so you don’t have to spend too much time there?” Draco asked her, seemingly knowing where her head was at.

“Am I too obvious?” she said, sheepishly.

“No,” he admitted. “I just know you.”

“Let’s just get this over with,” she sighed, and he held his arm out to her. She slipped hers in his, as they headed towards Slughorn’s office.

They arrived shortly after, and she wasn’t surprised to see the party in full swing, with people socializing and dancing. It hadn’t been anywhere near this lively in her time, and she supposed Voldemort’s terror could be blamed for that.

“I see that this is what I was missing in sixth year,” Draco said, looking at her. “Were they always this energetic?”

“No,” she murmured, and he led her into the room.

“Hermione, Draco,” Slughorn’s voice boomed out, “I’m so glad you decided to accept my invitation.”

“I’m grateful for the invitation,” Hermione said, plastering a polite smile on her face.

“As am I,” Draco said smoothly.

“Let me introduce you to some people,” Slughorn said, accepting their façade, as he ushered them towards some older gentlemen, whom Hermione recognized all too well. Theodore Nott and Abraxas Malfoy.  She saw Draco stiffen slightly at his grandfather, but tried not to let it shake her.

“Theodore, Abraxas, have you had the chance to meet Draco Black and Hermione Potter? They’re a few of my first years, and absolutely brilliant. I can expect that we’ll see them in the Ministry in a few years,” Slughorn said to the older men. “Abraxas and Theodore are both prominent Wizengamot members, and if either of you wish to pursue careers in the Ministry, they would be wonderful resources for you. Why Abraxas has a son a few years older than you both, and I’m sure he’d be most grateful to mentor the two of you.”

“Thank you, we would be most grateful for the opportunity to learn from such prominent members as yourselves,” Draco flashed a smile, as he shook the older gentlemen’s hands. Hermione let out her hand, and both of them kissed it, and she resisted the urge to shudder.

“We could always use more witches and wizards with your calibre,” Nott said, glancing at them both, “Given the times that are to come, and the state of Wizengamot, we could use more of those who truly belong in those seats. Members who are worthy of sitting in them and hold the beliefs in making the world a better place.”

He didn’t have to say it expressly, and she could sense the supremacy dripping from his very words. More members with certain characteristics, as being born into old wizarding families, and more members who would help push pureblood propaganda legislation through.

She smiled brightly, pretending not to catch his meaning, “I hear such wonderful things are happening for the Wizarding World,” Hermione said ignorantly, “How could they not? What with all the brilliant students that are attending Hogwarts.” She looked around the room, and gestured at Lily, “She is single-handedly the most brilliant witch I’ve ever met, and if half the wizards and witches who join the Ministry are half as brilliant as she is, then the Wizarding world is bound to face some amazing growth and potential.”

Slughorn beamed, “Yes, Miss Evans is one of the most brilliant witches I’ve ever had the honour of teaching. It’s even more remarkable given her upbringings…”

Abraxas’ lips curled in distaste, “Yes, rather remarkable indeed.”

The three older wizards began talking about some political matter, and Hermione could tell they were dismissed.

“I’m going to check in on her,” Hermione said, gesturing to Lily, and Draco nodded.

She worriedly looked over to where Lily was standing, beside Snape, and sighed. It was as good of a time to try and talk to them after their confrontation the other day, and she supposed she should get a reading on where they stood.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Lily told her as she approached them. “Stand up to me against people like them. I’m used to them looking at me and thinking their superior because of their blood status.”

“Yes I did,” Hermione said simply, “I meant every word of what I said, Lily. You’re a brilliant witch, and I refuse to let anyone say otherwise about you.”

Snape scoffed at that, and Hermione refused to acknowledge it.

“It doesn’t matter,” Hermione assured her. “Your blood status doesn’t matter. There are purebloods who are as dumb as bludgers. And just because of their blood status they are given things they don’t deserve, when there are people like you who are worthy of it and so much more. It shouldn’t be what your blood status is, but what your skills are. And you’ve proved yourself time and time again that you are more than worthy of having magic. Just because of who your parents were doesn’t mean you’re worth any less than us. And maybe one day that will be enough for the world. That they won’t care about who you are, but what you can do.”

Lily shot her a grateful smile and she grinned back at the girl. She hoped that one day they could truly be friends, beyond just study partners, and as the sister of the boy Lily would one day marry. But actual friends.

Draco watched as Hermione talked to Lily, as he saw his grandfather approach him.

“Mr Black,” Abraxas greeted him.

“Lord Malfoy,” Draco said, bowing his head respectfully at the older man.

“I see your young friend is every bit a Potter as the rest of her family,” Abraxas said, a glint in his eyes as the words were implicit. Blood traitor.

“She is,” Draco shrugged. “She has her uses, however. Rather good at potions. But beyond her academia, she is rather lacking at times.”

He hated having to play the game he was, but until the Blacks stood their ground, unitedly, he would have to act in a way that was befitting of his family.

“So you disagree with her views,” Abraxas noted. “It’s good to see that some families are capable of retaining the old ways. Especially a family such as yours, which I hope for my family to join with.”

“It would be a most blessed union,” Draco said cautiously, “I’m sure my sister will be most delighted to be marrying into a family such as yours.”

“Times are changing, young Black,” Abraxas said, “The Wizarding World is crumbling behind Dumbledore and his bureaucracy. He is stunting our growth with his actions. But times are changing indeed, and there are others, who are far worthier, waiting to shake the world up. And I’m sure they would quite like to meet someone like you, who is likely to be the heir of your house in a few years.”

Someone such as Voldemort.

He looked interested as Abraxas spoke, reading between the lines. So Voldemort was already on the move, recruiting families which he already had alliances with from his days as Tom Riddle. He had yet to make himself publically known, but if he was recruiting, then it was only a matter of time before everyone knew just who Lord Voldemort was.

“We are in need of a change,” Draco said, inclining his head, “It would be good to have someone with a more traditional upbringing making sure that our values and beliefs are not lost in an attempt to be more inclusive of those who are unworthy of our attention and compassion.”

“Well said,” Abraxas nodded. “My son was right in assuming you would be a worthy ally in the future. I can only hope your family believes in the matter as strongly as you do.”

Not if he could help it.

He refused to let his family go down the same road they had the last time, and he’d be damned if they did. But it would do no good to let them think he was a blood traitor. Not yet. Not when he still had certain moves to make. For now they could think he was on their side all they wanted. It didn’t change the fact that he was going to bring them all down, one way or another.

Abraxas walked away, and Hermione approached him once more, having mended whatever conflict had been stewing in Evans’ mind about Hermione’s public declaration of her worthiness.

“Everything okay?” she asked him in a quiet voice, and he filled her in on what he learned.

“It’s only a matter of time,” she said, sighing softly, “Voldemort’s bound to attack any day now. It’s only a matter of time before he does so.”

“We knew it would happen eventually,” he said softly, “We’re going to fight it, Hermione. But we won’t be able to save everyone. We’re nowhere near as prepared as we’d need to be.”

“I know,” she sighed, “But that doesn’t make it any easier. It’s been easy to not worry about Voldemort yet as he’s a future threat, whereas now we’ve been focusing on those who are here. But he’s going to strike any day now.”

“I know,” he said, squeezing her hand gently, “But it won’t get anywhere near as bad as it did last time. We won’t let it.”

She nodded, and he knew she was uncertain of what to say. Voldemort was coming, and they wouldn’t be able to stop him from attacking.

Chapter Text

It was early December when Hermione knew things were finally starting to change for the worst.

It had been a relatively quiet few months leading up the day things changed. Snape had taken to not talking to Hermione all together after the recent events of her confrontation with him, and somehow it felt almost worse than when he was insulting her with every turn. At least when he was insulting her she knew exactly how he felt about her. His silence was almost all the worse, because now she truly had no idea how he felt in the revelation that her brother never held some sort of vendetta against him, and that the cause of their fight was truly an accident.

She could understand why he felt it so hard to believe that she truly wished him no harm. How could she blame him when he had spent the better part of the last year hating her brother for a misunderstanding? It had been a bad misunderstanding, but it was a misunderstanding none the less.

Lily had pulled her aside after it had happened, needing to speak to her, to clarify her own intentions.

“Hermione, can we talk?” Lily said, anxiously as she cornered Hermione in the Library the next day after classes had finished. She had been steering clear of the girl so far, wanting to give her time to come to terms with what had been revealed on her own, without Hermione seeming as if she were pressuring her into accepting her friendship.

“Is everything okay?” Hermione asked her, slightly unsure of why Lily wanted to talk to her, or at least what the outcome of their talk would be.

“No,” Lily said quickly, “It’s not, Hermione. Why didn’t you tell me that Severus said those things to you?”

“Because I didn’t want to put you in a position where you were forced to either tell me that what he said was true, or to put you at odds with him,” she said softly.

“Did you believe it could be true?” Lily asked her carefully.

“I don’t know,” Hermione said looking down, “It was clear that neither of you liked my brother. And I couldn’t help but wonder if at times that same hatred was extended to me. He’s my family after all. How could it not extend to me? Whether anyone chooses to admit it or not, we’re alike in so many ways, that it would only be natural if you were to hate me.”

“You hardly go around pranking people,” Lily pointed out.

Hermione rolled her eyes, “So that’s one thing. He’s still my brother. We’d both fight for those we care about, even if it means endangering ourselves. We’d both choose to do the right thing over the easy thing. You can’t just separate the two of us because it’s easy to like one and hate the other. You’re right, we do have our differences too. I prefer to spend my time with books, and he prefers to apply his intelligence, even if through less than savoury means. His pranks are many things, but they are brilliant displays of magic, which take some brains after all.”

Lily was silent, and she knew that had given her something to consider.

“I didn’t want you to tell me you hated me, because James is my brother, whether you like it or not. You don’t have to like him, but I was afraid you would say that Snape was right, and for all the reasons you hated him, you hated me as well.”

“I don’t, you know,” Lily said. “Hate you or your brother. I dislike that your brother spends so much of his time slacking off and pranking others, especially when pranks such as those lead to Severus being hurt. But if you had asked me if I hated you, or if I simply put up with you because I was too nice to say no, I would have disagreed in an instant. We might not be close friends, but I truly do enjoy spending time with you, Hermione. You’re a brilliant witch in your own right.”

“Thank you,” Hermione said softly.

“I know it won’t change things, or what Snape said, but I truly would like to be your friend,” Lily said to her softly. “You came to us with only the purest intentions, and instead we hurt you. We questioned you. I wish I could say I didn’t have my own doubts about you, but I can’t because I did. But I shouldn’t have. Not when you are too kind to ever do the things Severus accused you of.”

“I’d like to be friends too,” Hermione said, a soft smile filling her face for the first time that day. 

“I’m glad,” Lily said softly. “And please, come to me in the future if anyone says anything like that to you again. I know why you didn’t, and it hurts me that I am responsible for your fears too. But I don’t want anyone to make you feel less than worthy of belonging here. Especially when you would do the same for me. When you have done the same for me, like at Slughorn’s party. You had no reason to need to stand up for me, yet you still did. And for that, I thank you.”

Hermione looked up at her, “And I would again and again, Lily. I meant what I said. You’re smarter than almost of the purebloods here, a good number of whom as thick as a broom. You belong in our world.”

Lily gave her a bright smile.

“Do you want to go to dinner with me?” Lily asked her, smiling, “We can talk about some of the new theories I learned in transfiguration. I think they might interest you in learning, as they are rather fascinating, if I do say so myself.”

Hermione grinned back, “I would love to,” she said softly, as she gathered up her books and headed out of the library.

It had been nice of her to do so, and she felt slightly relieved, knowing Hermione’s mother wanted to put aside all their differences and their rough start, and to truly be friends.

It was easy to see where Harry got the compassionate part of his personality. While he was like James in so many ways, from his looks, to his flying, to his need to rescue everyone, his personality was so much like Lily’s in so many ways.

She thought to herself that her brother, whenever he finally realized that he was in love with Lily, in later years, would be so bloody proud to know his son. To see the mixture of both of their traits so perfectly in one child.

She felt her chest pang in pain as she remembered Harry, and she knew that it would be years before she saw him again. She would never be like his sister, like they once were, but instead be his aunt. But he would grow up happy and with people who loved him one way or another. She refused to let anything happen to her big brother and to Lily. Not if she had any say in the matter.

It was a December morning, when she was sitting at breakfast, by Lily and Mary discussing their plans for the holidays, when the post came in all at once. She could feel a shift in the air, as the Daily Prophet landed in front of those who subscribed to it.

She could feel a shift in the air, as the professors began whispering to themselves, and Dumbledore stood from the High Table and immediately left the room. He had a worried, pensive look on his face, and she knew then that something bad had happened. Something that she had been anticipating for months.

It took one glance at the headline of the Daily Prophet for her stomach to drop in panic.

Magical Attack on Muggle London: Who is to Blame?

She skimmed through the article quickly, needing to gather as many facts as she could.

She and Draco had tried to read as many Daily Prophet articles before going back, to gather as many dates as they could for attacks to know how to stop them, but the archives had been damaged by Death Eaters in the height of Voldemort’s reign in the second war, wanting to remove any of the speculation of him being a magical terrorist.

They had asked as many old Order members for dates and important details, but at that point the beginning of the war had been over twenty years ago, and exact dates were hard to remember.

It was why everyone remembered first hearing of Voldemort through a magical attack on the muggle world, but all those asked could barely remember when and how it had happened.

She looked over at Draco, and he gave her a slight nod, in recognition of having read the article. Fifty dead, at least a hundred injured, in the middle of London. And no one could remember what it was exactly that happened. Just that buildings had been blown up and left damaged.

She knew it was the work of the Ministry, sending in oblivators to ensure the Statute of Secrecy was maintained, blaming it on some muggle terrorists or the other.  And it didn’t take much for her to know that it had been Death Eaters, as Voldemort made his first steps into the light.

“Who could have done such a thing?” Lily asked, as her eyes widened in fear, immediately grabbing parchment to begin writing a letter to her own parents. She could see similar actions across the room, as those with muggle relatives wanted to ensure their family had not been hurt by the recent attacks. Not that she blamed them, knowing she would be doing the exact same things. “It’s so horrible.”

She could see James look pale at the news, unsure of what it meant but aware enough to know it was greater than a single magical attack.

They had grown up in the Wizarding World after all, and the last time any one had attacked Muggles so blatantly had been the works of Grindelwald. And to them, who had yet to know Voldemort, Grindelwald was more than enough to leave them quaking in fear. It was why Dumbledore had run out so quickly, needing to get to the Ministry to find out who had done it, who was responsible; whether it was someone who supported Grindelwald, or someone with their own agenda.

Because the last time a Dark Lord rose to power, there had been a genocide. And the last thing the Wizarding World needed, while it still recovered from the last attacks were to face another set. Especially given that that she knew what was to come.

It was starting. And she felt herself grow anxious, knowing that the reason she and Draco had come back in time was slowly starting to occur. That from here on out, they were on a race against the clock, to defeat Voldemort before he rose to power. Before 1981, when he fell, and her brother would die. Before he killed hundreds of wizards and witches, leaving Wizarding Britain in a near extinct state, from which, after the second rise of Voldemort, they would never recover.

She had to do this. To save them all, one way or another. She had to make sure none of them died, not if she could help it.

It was nearly a week before the Christmas holidays, when Hermione decided to spend the night reading while her brother and his friends planned on how to prank the school before they left for the break. She knew Peter had raised some concerns about her sitting with them while they did so, worried that she would rat them out, but she had simply rolled her eyes and insisted if she wanted everyone to know about their pranks, she would have warned the professors before they had managed to make sure that every single person in the school was left sneezing uncontrollably whenever their professors asked them questions in class. Or the one where half the school was left needing to use the bathroom every few minutes after ingesting the trifle. Or the one where the students all had been put to sleep before their winter tests, leaving them all to miss their exams.

Sirius had barked out laughing as she listed all their pranks, knowing all too well that they had cast them, and insisted that she could be made a Marauder out of yet. She had shaken her head at them, but smiled while her brother had given her a proud grin, and even Remus looked amused by her declaration of such.

“I knew there was a reason I liked you,” Sirius said, as she offered them a suggestion on how to make their potion to make the school speak in rhymes more potent, so that it would last longer.

James grinned, “She is my sister after all. How could you expect anything less than brilliance?”

Peter didn’t look convinced, and she knew he didn’t trust her.

She knew she owed it to her brother and his friends to try and change his path in life, so she tried to keep a calm demeanor around him. Time was complicated, and the last thing she wanted was for in this new time line, to be the reason why he went to the Death Eaters. If she could try and save everyone else, she could try and save Peter. But she refused to let him be the reason why her brother died. Not this time around. Not if she had anything to do with it.

“I don’t know, James,” Remus jested lightly, “I’ve studied with the both of you. It’s rather obvious that Hermione is far cleverer than you are.”

She smiled and stuck her tongue out at her brother as he laughed and wrapped an arm around her, “Of course she is,” he said looking at her fondly, “She’s brilliant.”

She blushed slightly, and Sirius laughed at the display, but she could see a slight pang of pain in his face, knowing he missed his brother all too well. She could only pray that Draco was having better luck convincing his cousin to reach out to his younger brother.

“But in terms of this prank,” Remus said, looking tired, “I think the best time to cast it would be the day before school ended, and not the day of. That way we’d be able to enjoy the full results.”

“Are you sure, Remus?” Sirius asked, exchanging a look with him. “That would be the 21^st. You’re aware of that, yes?”

“I’m aware,” Remus said, without looking up, and part of her wanted to ask the significance of the day. Why did it matter what date they casted it other than what results they would be seeing from it? Why did the date matter?”

She could see the four boys exchanging looks and part of her wanted to smack her forehead for not realizing the signs sooner.

The 21^st was the Thursday before school let out and given the fatigue in Remus’ face and demeanour it didn’t take much for her to piece together that the full moon would only be a few days away. That it was likely that the date most likely was on the day of the full moon, if not after, and Remus wouldn’t be able to enjoy the prank they’d be casting in its entirety.

“Are you feeling alright, Remus?” Hermione probed slightly, wanting to know how receptive he was to her questions. She knew he was cautious about his condition, and she knew that the only people who knew aside from the staff was likely the three boys sitting in the room. But would he be open to her knowing that she knew about his condition?”

“I’m fine,” he brushed off slightly, looking down instead of at her. “Just a cold.”

“Are you sure?” she pushed, “You look slightly pale. Maybe you should see Madam Pomfrey?”

“It’s just a cold, Hermione,” James said, trying to draw her attention away from his friend,
“He got some cold potion from her earlier, and he’ll be right as rain in a few days.”

“I suppose,” she said, slightly sceptically. She wondered if he would be receptive to her knowing the truth about him. It was likely that he would never tell her freely. Especially given the current laws around werewolves in the magical world. And while she knew they were friends, she was certain he was terrified it would change if she knew the truth about him.

She hated that he felt so isolated by something he had no control over. All she wanted was for him to know that he was loved and cared for. That she would never judge him for something like that. And she supposed it would have to be enough for him for now to have her friends. She could hardly come out right and give him the wolfsbane potion before it had been invented.

She would let him keep it as a secret for the time being, knowing how it must make him feel to be in that position, but she would tell him that she knew in all due time. She refused to let him believe he was a monster, not when he had done nothing wrong. He was her friend, and in her last life, her teacher and her mentor. He had suffered the most in many ways, out of the four boys, and she refused to let him suffer once more. She would make sure he got the potion as soon as it was available, and if she could help it, change the rules against werewolves and the prejudice they faced.

To say Draco was a little curious to see his older sister sneaking out of the Slytherin dungeons late at night was an understatement. He knew she didn’t have prefect duties, or any reason why she would be leaving after curfew, and he couldn’t help but be curious.

He knew that after graduation, at some point, she eloped with Theodore Tonks, and after that moment she cut off all contact with her family. He knew that after that moment, his mother had never been able to speak to her sister ever again because of family obligations and such.

And this Draco Black, who knew Andromeda as an older sister who was nothing but compassionate and caring for him didn’t want her to leave. He loved his older sister, despite only knowing her through the ritual memories. But those memories were still real. They happened, even if they weren’t meant to originally. And if Andromeda ran away, he would lose her as a sister as well. He would lose her just as Narcissa would.

So he followed her, unashamedly, wanting to know the truth. Wanting to know if she was planning on leaving him and Narcissa behind.

She didn’t go very far, when he saw her sneak off behind a statue, which he was certain she had done so many times in the past. Which he figured to be her meeting place with Tonks for all their late-night rendezvous. 

“Ted,” he heard his older sister murmur slightly, as he put up a disillusion charm over himself. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Andy,” Tonks said, as he pulled her into his arms. “I wish I could write to you over the break. To talk to you. It would make the time pass faster than it would otherwise.”

“I know,” she said softly, looking down, “I wish you could too. But if my parents were to find out…”

“I know,” he responded, cupping her face and kissing her head.

“Ted, there’s something I need to tell you,” his sister said softly, “My parents are arranging my marriage to Lucius Malfoy.”

Ted tensed, and Draco looked up in shock. He had known that the arrangement was pending, but he had assumed that his sister was unaware of the arrangement.

“I see,” Ted said, pulling back. “What does this mean, for us?”

“It means I’m choosing you,” Andromeda said softly, “I can’t do it, Teddy. I can’t go through and marry him and pretend that I’m fine with it. I’m not Narcissa; I’m not a proper pureblood girl or whatever rubbish they want from me. I can’t marry a man like him who I have no love for. I love you.”

“Does this mean you’re accepting my proposal?” Ted said, beaming at her. “To marry me?”

“Yes,” Andromeda said, with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, and Draco knew why.

“Even if it means leaving your family behind?” Ted said softly, “That you will be disowned like you fear you will be? That you’ll never be allowed to talk to your younger siblings ever again?”

“Yes,” Andromeda said, crying softly, “I need to choose me, Teddy. I love Draco and Cissa so much, but I can’t marry a man like that. I can’t marry him, not when I love you.”

“So you’d leave us behind?” Draco said, unable to stay silent, dropping the charm keeping him hidden. “You would choose to leave us behind for him?”

He knew it probably wasn’t the best way to go about it, but it hurt, knowing his sister would choose someone else over him. That she would run away and leave him behind.

And from the fear in his older sister’s eyes at his presence, he figured he should have made his presence known in a less threatening way.

“Draco,” she said, looking cautious. “It’s not what you think.”

“Isn’t it?” Draco spat out, “You’re choosing him over your family. You’re choosing a boy over your brother and sister. Isn’t that what you’re doing? Because that’s what it looks like.”

“What are my options?” Andromeda said back, looking panicked at being caught out. “To marry Lucius Malfoy and spend the rest of my life as some sort of trophy wife?”

“You could try and talk to Mother and Father and ask them not to go through with the arrangement!” Draco said, shaking, “Did you at least try?”

“Of course I have!” Andromeda said, her voice breaking. “I’ve been begging them to nullify the agreement for months, but they refuse! Do you think it’s my first option to run away and leave you behind? You’re my baby brother. Of course it’s not easy for me to leave you behind.”

“Yet you’re still willing to,” he said looking down, unable to look at her.

“Tell me what else I should do!” Andromeda said, tears streaming down her eyes, “If you have any better suggestions then tell me what I should do, because I don’t want to have to leave all of you behind. It’s the last thing I want, Draco.”

“Talk to Grandfather,” Draco said softly, “He is still the head of the house. If anyone can break the agreement, it would be him. If you talk to him he might help you.”

“He believes in the old ways just as our parents do!” Andy said, as she wiped her eyes, and Ted, took her hand in his, looking worried at the interaction.

“But maybe he can do something. Maybe he would do something for you,” Draco pleaded. “Don’t you owe it to us to at least try before you decide to take drastic measures? You’ll be disowned by our parents if you do. At least this way you would have tried all the things you could have. It’s going to break Narcissa’s heart if you run off without telling her, you know that right? She loves you so much. I love you so much. I don’t want to lose you, Andromeda.”

She pulled him into a hug, and he held his older sister tightly.

“Okay, Draco,” she whispered, “I’ll talk to Grandfather. And if he can get me out of this marriage, then that’s great. But if not, you have to understand why I’m doing the things I am. And I pray that you’ll be able to forgive me, and not cut me out of your life like the rest of them will.”

Chapter Text

Hermione woke up in her childhood bedroom for the first time in months, as she took a moment to collect herself.

It was easy to be absorbed in the memories she had growing up as a Potter, and how could it not be? They were as realistic in her mind as the memories she held from her past life as a Granger. It was easy remembering James teach her how to ride a broom for the first time, and being so terrified, that he had gotten on the broom with her, insisting that he wouldn’t let her go and that she had nothing to fear. It was easy to remember all those moments. All those moments she had shared with her family, even if they had never actually happened, or at least, they never should have happened.

She looked around the room, filled with love and with joy, and she wondered if Harry would have grown up in the same house she had in his time if Voldemort had not been after his parents. If Voldemort was not obsessed with killing him.

It was easy to wonder all the scenarios of Harry’s possible life with her brother raising him when she thought about it. It was easy to miss him and wonder what his life would be like years from now if she succeeded. Of how he would grow up and how his life with his own parents could have been like.

He had suffered so much in his life, thrown into scenarios time and time again designed to lead to his death, and time and time again he had come out on top. But in the end, it hadn’t been enough. None of them had been enough to save them all from the life Voldemort’s reign had thrown them into.

She sighed to herself. It wouldn’t do her any good to keep dwelling on the what ifs and the what used to have been’s. This was her time now, and it was time to accept that. Her life now was in the 1970’s, and as odd as it felt to be back in time with so many of the people she had known while she was a teenager as her elders, she would just need to get used to it.

And with Voldemort moving and gathering troops, it was a matter of time before it became a regular occurrence for him to attack. Before Hogwarts became divided by those who believed in his messages, and those who knew it was wrong.

It was only a matter of time before his name brought fear to those who uttered it.

It was only a matter of time before the people she loved started dying.

And it broke her heart, knowing her parents would die of Dragon Pox in a few years. And it might not be something she would be able to prevent. How could it not hurt any less, knowing that the people who raised her in this life would be dead in a decade?

She felt her throat close as she blinked back tears.

“Are you still in bed?” James said, as he opened her door, eyes widening at the sight of her. “You’re usually the first one up! Merlin, Hermione, it’s Christmas!”

She smiled at her brother, who looked so personally offended that she hadn’t bothered getting out of bed just yet, that she threw her blankets off of herself and threw on her house robes and shoes.

Her brother smiled as she grabbed her wand and tailed behind him, and she couldn’t help but feel slightly excited. Christmas had always been one of her favourite holidays, and even though she was spending it with a different family this time around, they were still people she loved, and people she cared for.

She saw her father sitting in his arm chair, and her mother sitting on the chaise sipping a cup of tea.

“Merry Christmas, Darlings,” her mother greeted her brightly as she sat down on the floor beside her brother.

“Merry Christmas Mum, Dad,” Hermione said grinning, and James took a cup of hot cocoa that their father handed him and passed one to her.

She inhaled a breath, taking in the warm chocolatey smell, before taking a sip to wake herself up. While she did prefer tea in the morning, she knew today was an exception that she was more than happy to make.

“This one is for you,” James grinned as he tossed her a present, “Oh it’s from Rems!”

She smiled at the fact that James’ friends had bothered buying her gifts, feeling warm at the thought.

She unwrapped it carefully and found that he had given her a box of chocolate and had written a note.

“Merry Christmas, Hermione! Hope you have a wonderful holiday with your family. See you next term! -Remus”

She grinned brightly, as James unwrapped a present from Sirius containing a set of products from Zonkos.

“Brilliant!” James exclaimed as he saw them, and she could see his mind racing already, thinking of the different pranks he could pull.

“I hope you don’t plan on using those at school,” her mother warned him, “Poor Minerva sounds absolutely irritated having to write to me every other day about your antics.”

“Let the boy be, ‘Phe,” her father said laughing, “He’ll only be young once, and have this time to be able to do so.”

Her mother shook her head, but she knew from her mother’s smiling face that she wasn’t all that annoyed with her son.

James grabbed her present, and his eyes widened when he opened it up to find Dragon-hide  Quidditch gloves. He had tried out for the Gryffindor team this year and she had been so proud of her brother for making it through. So much so that she had gone to ever game, despite still hating the sport. She knew that if Harry made the team in his first year again this time around that her brother would be so proud of his son.

She took another present from the pile, opening it, and was confused to see a copy of the first-year potions book they were using that year, only it looked more worn out than regular copies, as if it had been used by several students.

“I know you like studying and I thought my notes would be helpful for you. -SS”

Snape had sent her a present for Christmas. And more than that, he had sent her his copy of his potions book from his first year, which she knew from studying with him, would contain his own notes written in the margins of each page. With his own notes of things to do differently in order to be able to make the same potions but easier and to be more potent.

She was shocked, for even after their confrontation, he hadn’t bothered to say one word to her. Maybe this was him apologizing to her. Him saying that he wanted to move past their initial false start, and try to truly be friends for real, and instead of with a guarded notion that she was out to get him and secretly was waiting to cast some sort of prank on him while he remained unaware.

She felt herself smile softly, knowing that she was making a difference, no matter how slowly.

She opened her next present, from Lily, containing a textbook on advanced defense spells, and she couldn’t help but smile brightly at the girl’s awareness of what she would like. And thankfully, it was a book she had never read in her old time, meaning that she would be able to properly utilize the gift for all it was worth, and truly learn something. And by the size of it, she knew it would most likely take her several days to get through, even at her pace.

“Advanced Defense?” James asked, peering over. “Merlin, I almost wish I had gotten you that instead.”

“What did you get me?” she asked, sitting up as he grabbed a present from the stack and handed it to her. She could see him watching her nervously, as she unwrapped the present he had given her.

She opened it up to see an album, with golden text on the front.

Hermione Potter: Hogwarts Years

Speechlessly, she turned through the first few pages, and found them filled with pictures of her and her friends throughout the last few months.

“I have no doubts that you’ll one day do great things, Hermione,” James told her softly. “Whatever it is that you choose to do, I can see you succeeding at it. You’re absolutely brilliant, so much so that I forget that we’re related at times. And one day, I want you to be able to look back to these years and remember your life and your teenage years. I want you to be able to remember the times you had with your friends and your family. I want you to be able to capture every moment of your life, no matter how small, so that you can look back on them fondly. And I want you to remember that there are so many people in your life who love you and support you.”

She felt her eyes well up as she threw her arms around James. It was easy to feel lost through her anxiety of not belonging that had haunted her, her entire life. She had felt that way when she was in grade school, when she first started Hogwarts, and even now, with a new life and identity, it still remained.

But flipping through the pages, one by one, and seeing that they were filled with pictures of her friends, of her brother, and of her parents, she felt her heart warm up. And despite still feeling worried, like she had after Snape telling her she only had friends out of their pity, she couldn’t help but feel truly loved. Like her friends cared about her and wanted to be in her life, not out of pity but because they did truly love her, they truly did care for her.

“Do you like it?” he asked her softly, and she nodded, still holding him tightly, unable to speak just yet.

“Thank you, Jamie,” she said softly after a moment. “It’s perfect. I love it so much.”

“I’m glad,” he said smiling brightly, and when she pulled away, she saw her parents smiling brightly at the both of them.

In all honestly, she missed the Grangers. She missed being Hermione Granger so much that it hurt sometimes. And there were nights she’d spend in her dorm room, lying in bed awake as she replayed memories with Harry and Ron, sobbing as she remembered she would never be able to see them ever again, and that life was long over. That there was no getting it back, no matter how badly she wished she could. Because that life would have led to her inevitable death, one way or another, by the hands of a society that had no place for her in their world.

But here, with Euphemia and Fleamont Potter raising her, she felt loved. She felt loved with James, who cared about her so strongly, and she knew would do anything for her, to keep her safe and make sure that she was happy. And even though it was strange for her to think about in the beginning, they were her family, one way or another, even if she shouldn’t have belonged in this time. They were her family and she loved them more than anything.

And for the first time in the months since she had come back, she could see herself truly belonging in this time. She could see herself truly having a life in this time and living here with the people she had only heard stories about. She could see herself in this time, surrounded by friends and family whom she loved and vowed to protect, regardless of the cost.

Hermione finished putting in her earrings as she stared at herself in the mirror. She hadn’t had many chances in her old life to dress up for special occasions, other than the odd time, such as the Yule Ball at Hogwarts.

It wasn’t often she spent time in her appearance, and even now all she had done was put on some formal robes, some jewelry, and some shoes her mother had picked up for her during her last drip to Diagon Alley.

To say she was hardly excited about their outing would be an understatement. When her mother had told them a few days ago that they would be going to the Malfoy’s Yule Ball celebration, she had hardly been pleased. Godric, the last time she had been at Malfoy Manor, she had been tortured mercilessly by Draco’s now older sister, left with a scar on her arm for all to see just how impure she was.

But her mother refused to listen to her and James’ claims of not wanting to go due to their own different reasoning. Hers, because she wouldn’t know anyone there, as she could hardly tell her mother the truth of why she didn’t want to go to the event, and James’ because he thought it would be an utter waste of time.

But it seemed Euphemia was prepared for their arguments, stating that the Blacks would be there, meaning James and Sirius would be able to keep each other occupied, and she had known from the way that James’ face lit up at that, that he was sold on the argument. For her, Euphemia had tried to placate her using Draco’s presence there, and she could hardly tell her mother that it wasn’t helping. Because Draco had been there that day when she was tortured and had seen her at the moment in her life that she hated the most. The moment when more than any other in her entire life, she was absolutely certain she was going to die.

She supposed in a way it would help that he had known, for if anything happened tonight, he would understand just why she was as terrified as she was. But at the same time, it didn’t change the fact that she hardly wanted to go. And she didn’t understand why she needed to. It was hardly as if the Potters cared about being in proper Pureblood society and attending such events.

She supposed her parents wanted her and James to try and make more connections with their peers outside of school. As the eldest, one day James would be in the Wizengamot and make important decisions concerning legislation. And even if it wasn’t something he cared for now, one day he would need to, whenever their father decided to step down from his own seat. And unless he wanted to pass the seat onto someone else, such as another family member, no matter how distantly related, it would be him who held it.

As for her, she supposed her mother thought she could stand to make a few more friends from other families. She knew her parents didn’t get along so well with other pureblood families, especially the Malfoys, but there would be those in attendance that the Potters considered allies. For one, the Longbottoms would be there, as well as several other students she knew from school, but never befriended.

So here she found herself, getting dressed, slightly wary of the night in front of her. She supposed if things got bad, she could always find a corner of the Ball to read in. Her parents could hardly fault her for not trying, if she did give it a decent chance after all.

“Hermione?” Her mother asked, as she knocked on the door, before opening it. She saw Euphemia wearing bright gold robes and had her hair up in a formal bun.

“You look really nice, Mum,” Hermione said, smiling at her. Her own robes were a deep Gryffindor red, and she was grateful to her mum for having bought them for her. It was hardly as if she would go and buy herself robes for such occasions.

“As do you, Darling,” Euphemia said with a smile, as she stood behind Hermione in the mirror. “Would you like me to cast a charm on your hair for you? Nothing too special, but it’ll smooth out your lovely curls for the night. Merlin knows the two of you got Fleamont’s hair.”

She nodded, as her mother took her hair in her hands and cast a charm on them. It wasn’t the same result as when she used the Sleekeazy on her hair, a potion she knew her father had invented a few years back, but it made her hair look nice nonetheless.

“I know you are worried about tonight, Hermione,” her mum said softly, “But I’m glad you are coming. It’ll be good for you and James to make more friends your own age. I wish I could have given you those friendships when you were younger, but we couldn’t.”

She knew it was hard on her mother, having had them both later in life, to be quite older than the average age of her peer’s parents.

“It’s okay, Mum,” Hermione smiled up at her, “You gave me a childhood that I can cherish for my entire life. I wouldn’t trade any part of it.”

Her mum smiled at her and Hermione stood up as she placed her wand in bag, ready to leave.

Her brother and father were waiting for them in the floo room, and she saw James wearing formal robes, and she knew it was one of the few times he had done so in his entire life. His hair, unlike hers, remained a mess, and she couldn’t help but grin at her brother. At least he kept things consistent.

“Shall we go?” Her father asked, smiling at them both, and she took some floo powder in her hands, following after her mother.

If Malfoy Manor had been dreary during Voldemort’s reign, it was anything but that tonight.

The entire hall had been brightly decorated with winter décor, with crystal snowflakes floating high above them. She almost forgot where she was for a moment as she took in the decorations in front of her.

“Sirius!” James exclaimed as the Black boys came over to where they were.

“James,” Sirius grinned, “Hermione. Happy Yule to you both.”

“And you,” Hermione said, smiling at the older boy. “Draco, Regulus, I hope your holidays have been well.”

Regulus was silent, and she could tell from the way both Regulus and Sirius were avoiding each other’s gazes, that they were still not talking together. And part of her wanted to scold them both there and then and tell them both to stop being stubborn. It was clear that they both missed each other, and if they could get their heads out of their arses, then they would be able to see that the other felt the exact same way. Boys; honestly.

“They’ve been well,” Draco responded for them both. She watched as James and Sirius began talking and she knew that they would most likely sneak out to try and charm some elves into letting them have firewhisky.

Regulus spotted some of his fellow Slytherins just then and before she knew it she was left alone with Draco.

“I’m glad he’s making more friends,” Hermione commented, as she saw him with some boys from families she didn’t recognize.

“As am I,” Draco commented, looking at his cousin. “Are you alright, Hermione?” he said, addressing her by her first name. “I know it mustn’t be easy for you to be back here, in this place, especially given what happened the last time you were here.”

“I am,” she said, smiling. “It helps that it’s different this time. That I’m not here as a prisoner, and that I’m not about to die. That I’m not in danger this time around. Because I don’t think I could take it if I was.”

He nodded at her, “Let me know if it gets to be too much. I can take you somewhere else. I grew up on these grounds, before. I know some good places to escape to, if you need a moment.”

“Thanks,” she said, smiling genuinely at his concern.

“Any time,” he said softly.

It was an hour later when Sirius and James returned, looking slightly disappointed, and she assumed it meant that they were unable to charm any elves into giving them the firewhisky.

“Hermione, just who I was looking for,” Sirius said, looking behind him, and she looked past to see Walburga making her way over to them. “Dance with me, please.”

“Why?” Hermione asked confused.

“Mother thinks I need to start socializing with eligible girls who would be worthy of someday becoming the future Lady Black,” Sirius said, looking panicked. “She’s already tried pushing three girls towards me.”

“It was bloody brilliant,” James laughed, “Watching him dodge her and keep coming up with excuses.”

“And you think I would be a good enough eligible girl worthy of being the future Lady Black,” Hermione raised a brow.

“Enough so that my mother would stop trying to push other girls at me,” Sirius said. “Please? I won’t tease you about Remus’ sister over James’ anymore. Or that you like studying so much.”

“Okay,” Hermione laughed, knowing that he must be truly desperate as his mother grew closer.

He held his arm out to her and she slipped hers in his as they made their way over to the dance floor.

“Thank you,” Sirius breathed in relief as his mother seemed pleased to see him with her. “Merlin knows I couldn’t take her attempts at match making.”

“It’s only going to get worse as you get older, you know,” Hermione reminded him.

He groaned, “I know. I don’t know how I’m going to take it.”

“I’m glad I’m not the oldest,” Hermione said with a grin.

“But I doubt your mother would ever be as neurotic as mine,” Sirius sighed, “I’m envious of Draco and Regulus sometimes. They don’t have to deal with all the same things I do, about acting certain ways that are worthy of being the future Lord Black.”

“How are things at your home?” she asked softly.

“About to get a lot worse,” Sirius said, looking worried. “Grandfather has called a family meeting, and I am almost certain it’s about Andromeda and her future alliance to the Malfoy family. Or more specifically that she doesn’t want to marry them, and instead wants to marry Ted Tonks.”

She was shocked to know that Sirius was aware of the relationship. From what Draco had told her, it seemed as if she had kept it a secret from everyone, especially her family.

“Would your grandfather be opposed to the alliance?” Hermione asked.

“I don’t know,” Sirius answered, honestly. “He’s not as vocal about his hatred for muggleborns as my parents are, but I can only assume he'll be the same as them. She’ll either get disowned or she can choose to marry Malfoy. I’m not even certain why she’s choosing to ask. Her parents are the same as mine, and there’s a reason they are pushing this marriage. It’s good for the House of Black, and it’s never mattered what a woman thinks to them. Running away would have been an easier option.”

“I hope it goes well,” Hermione offered, “For her sake. She’s always been nice to me on the few occasions we’ve talked. She deserves to be happy.”

“I hope so too,” Sirius sighed. “But I don’t think it will.”

“If things get really bad for you, just remember you always have a home with us,” Hermione told him honestly. “You’re family.”

“You and James are so similar at times,” Sirius said fondly, “He said the same thing to me earlier.”

She smiled at the comparison, “I mean it though, Sirius. You’re his best friend, and I know he thinks of you as a brother. And all of you have been so wonderful to me, even though you have no obligation to do so.”

“You’re James’ younger sister,” Sirius reminded her, “That means you’re like a younger sister to all of us. Whether you like it or not, you’re stuck with us.”

She laughed at that, and Sirius grinned at her. It was a nice thing of him to say, and she felt her heart warm at it. And when the song ended, she kissed him on the cheek, before he walked her back to her brother.

Her parents came over shortly after, ready for them to leave, and Hermione let out a sigh of relief as it was time to go. She nodded at the Blacks, and she prayed that as Andromeda talked to Arcturus Black, that things would go well for her.

Chapter Text

If Draco was nervous going into the House of Black family meeting that day, he tried not to let it show.

How could he not be? His older sister was meeting up with their grandfather, the Head of the house, to try and plead to him her case in which she did not want to marry Lucius Malfoy. And she was doing so at the pleading of Draco.

It was him that had begged his older sister not to run away, knowing it would forever damage the bond between the Black sisters. If she ran away, Bellatrix who was already veering off the path towards the dark side would throw herself in head first and denounce any family member who did not agree with Voldemort’s views and attempt to kill them herself.

Bellatrix did manage to kill most of the Blacks herself. Sirius, Nymphadora, and even Narcissa, her own sister. And Draco had no doubt that if Bellatrix had the chance she would have killed Andromeda herself. In this time, he was certain if Bellatrix went through the same path once more, she would have it out for Draco too, the moment his true alliance became known.

If this didn’t go well, Narcissa would lose both her sisters at once, distancing herself out of familial obligation to Andromeda.

He had no idea, in all honesty, how their Grandfather would react. He needed Arcturus to at the very least not force the marriage between her and Lucius. Ted Tonks’ heritage posed another issue altogether. Because he was a muggbleborn. A half-blood might have been do able for their family, but a muggleborn was another issue all together, and Draco had no idea how his family would react. He already knew his parents and Aunt and Uncle would be up in arms when they found out that Andromeda had been in a secret relationship, and that she had no intentions of following her duty as a daughter of the house and marrying to secure an alliance with a worthy family.

He had no idea how his family would react to the news that Andromeda would rather elope and abandon her family than be married to Malfoy. Not that he blamed his older sister. His father was a piece of work, and he hated that he knew that the most likely outcome of the situation, regardless of what happened with Andromeda, lead to his mother marrying him instead. Because one way or another Andromeda would marry Ted. It was just a matter of whether her family chose to support her through the marriage or disown her. And as a consequence, the marriage offer would fall to the next daughter of the house, Narcissa, as Bellatrix wasn’t exactly easy to convince to get married.

His mother would end up married to his father, and he was helping it happen.

He knew he still had time, however. He could try and convince his mother not to go through with the marriage. That she could do better and should follow her heart. But that was a bridge he’d have to cross when he got there. For now, however, he would need to focus on saving his second oldest sister from a marriage she did not want, and somehow hope that she would remain in his family at the end of the meeting.

And that nothing would happen in which Arcturus tried to force her into the marriage for the good of the house. There were powerful old rituals the family knew of to get their children to comply to marriage which had been used in past generations. The Black family was dark after all, they didn’t always care about whether their child wanted the marriage or not. If it was important for the house, then they would go through with it. It was how his uncle and aunt got married, despite being second cousins. Because it was important to make sure the house of Black remained “Toujours Pur”; always pure, never tainted, and always filled with blood that was old and magical.

Toujours Pur. The reason why Arcturus would reject Andromeda’s plea of marriage. For the Malfoy family was one of the oldest in Britain and would be a good match for their daughter. For the Malfoy family would present the House of Black a marriage that would be worthy of their family. It didn’t matter if Andromeda was receptive of the marriage or not. Just that the families had both approved, and that Lucius was for the marriage as well. After all, it wasn’t a daughter’s place to question her parent’s decision.

All that mattered was that Cygnus and Abraxas had consented to the marriage and that they wanted it to go through. All that mattered was that the parties that mattered were happy with it.

He sighed to himself, as he prayed that for his sister’s sake that things would go well. This could change her entire life if the family accepted. She wouldn’t need to lose them all, as she had in the past timeline. She wouldn’t be cut off from her family, only left with her husband and daughter, who would eventually both be murdered because of the war. She wouldn’t have to give up her sisters and her brother. She wouldn’t be subjected to the life of a blood traitor who had been disowned.

But more importantly, it would change the future of the house of Black. If one small decision was made to let her marry Ted, then all of a sudden, the family was one step closer to surviving past the war without dying out. There was one more family member who would remain in the family. Because he would be damned if he allowed his family to die out this time too. He wouldn’t let Andromeda be kicked out. He wouldn’t let Sirius die as a convict. He wouldn’t let Regulus die as a Death Eater trying to make amends. He wouldn’t let his mother die for trying to save them all from Voldemort. He refused to let it happen, and he would save them all. And if somewhere along the way, Bellatrix found herself allying herself to the right side of the war, then he would try and save her too from her fate.

He looked over at his sister, and she looked deathly pale. Their parents sat across from them at the table, looking unimpressed with their daughter for calling a family meeting without their consent. With bothering to trouble their grandfather with matters they deemed beneath them. With matters she should have no right to be opposed to. Why should she, when the Malfoy family was a good family for a match?

Instead, she was insisting on making a spectacle of herself, and bothering to trouble the entire family with her liberal views of what a woman’s place was after marriage and in their family.

Instead she was insisting on a marriage with a man that had no place in their family, or any family of his own which could pose a marriage worthy of a daughter of a family as Noble and Ancient as the house of Black.

His Aunt and Uncle had a look of contempt on their face, however he knew they would never say anything. How could they, when their own son, the heir of the house, was more of an embarrassment than they’d care to admit??

Narcissa looked concerned as to why the meeting was taking place, unsure of what had been going on behind the scenes regarding her sister’s pending marriage.

Bellatrix looked bored out of her mind, staring at her nails. She never was one for these family meetings and spent each one zoning out.

Regulus seemed concerned; for he was too innocent to know what was going on, but old enough to be aware of the fact that whatever it was would most likely be life changing for them all, regardless of the outcome of the meeting.

Sirius, aware of what the meeting was about looked tense. And how could he not? Andromeda was his one of his favourite cousins, and her marriage and happiness mattered to him as well. If Andromeda was kicked out of their family, he knew it would be devastating to Sirius, and would be one step closer to pushing Sirius to run away from his family and towards the Potters. And while the Potters were hardly the worst family for him to seek solace in, Sirius leaving had been one of the cornerstones in the fall of the Black Family. It had put more pressure on Regulus to be a proper heir and become a Death Eater. It had put pressure on Narcissa after Regulus died to raise a son who would be a worthy heir of both houses. It had put pressure on Andromeda to keep her family as far away as she could from her sisters, as she refused to let her daughter and husband get hurt because of her.

It had led to Sirius’ death in the end, by Bellatrix, for being a traitor to their family.

Suffice to say, the meeting was important, and Draco prayed for all of their sakes that it would go well.

“I see you are all here,” a voice called out from the doorway of the room, and Draco turned to see their grandfather standing tall in the frame, with an expressionless face. He moved through the room, and Draco saw Andromeda grow paler at that, terrified of what was about to happen. Terrified of what Arcturus would rule and say. Because if he sided with her parents, then her only other option was to run away. And if Draco knew his sister, she most likely already packed the essentials, ready to leave right after the meeting ended and elope with Ted right after school had finished. Where she would stay, Draco had no idea. And he felt guilty, for forcing his sister to talk to Arcturus now, and move up the time line of when she originally would have run away, changing it from the summer right after school ended for her, through half way through the school year. If she ran away, she would be forced to face her family at school and pretend to be fine even if she were not.

He took a deep breath, as their grandfather sat at the head of the table, looking serious, as he were.

“We are sorry that our daughter called this meeting,” his father addressed the Head of the House, “And to have wasted your time. It is a small dispute that was not worthy of having been brought up in an official family meeting. It never should have been brought this far, Lord Black.”

“That is for me to determine now,” Arcturus said firmly. “It may not have been necessary to bring the matter this far, but it is here now. A member of our house is unhappy with her proceedings, and it is her right to raise the matter to the Head of the House. And if I determine her to be incorrect in her assessment, then I will let the proceedings continue. However, it is her duty to be able to express her fears, and mine to listen to her concerns. So I will hear her out.”

Andromeda grew still, as the table turned to face her, and hear what she had to say. And from the looks on his parents faces, they were unimpressed with her antics and the fact that she was about to publically embarrass them all in front of the family.

“My parents told me a few months ago that they were in the middle of arranging my marriage to Lucius Malfoy,” Andromeda said after taking a deep breath.

And in an instant, his cousins and sister’s faces all grew to be shocked. For it seemed that very few of them had known that her pending marriage was occurring. Not that he was surprised. He only knew because Lucius approached him as the apparent new heir of the house for when Sirius was eventually disowned.

 “I was aware that such an alliance was in progress,” Arcturus said looking at the girl carefully. “They approached me first and asked if it would be a suitable marriage of the family.”

“I cannot marry him,” Andromeda said, looking at their grandfather. He’s a vile man who I could not spend the rest of my life with. I am a daughter of the House of Black, yes, but before anything else, I am my own person. I want to be a Healer. I want to work to save the lives of those in the Wizarding World. I want to marry for love and be treated as an equal in my marriage. I do not want to spend my life serving a man who I have no love or respect for, because it is my place as a woman. I refused to be some sort of subservient wife who bows to the whims of her husband at every turn. Who does whatever it takes to make him happy. Who simply produces heirs because it is necessary, but then is treated poorly when a daughter is born instead of a son. Because the child would have come from my womb, so it’s gender is my fault.”

She paused, “I cannot marry a man who I know would gladly flash his wealth to get into the pockets of the Minister and then sway politics, regardless of the proper democratic process. A man who I would be nothing more than a trophy for him to flaunt around to other families but must remain silent at all times.”

“You must forgive my daughter,” Cygnus cut in, “She’s been raised too freely, and I apologise for that. My wife and I were far too lenient in her upbringing, and as such she’s began to experience delusions of grandeur of a positively muggle life. Her views have been clouded by attending that school full of rash Gryffindors and mudbloods who taint our pure world and try and change our society to match their muggle loving one. She just needs to be set on the right path once more, and then she’ll see that this is a marriage that wold be good for her in the long run. It’s a marriage where she could grow to care for and respect her husband. A marriage worthy of our house.”

“I cannot marry him, nor am I delusional,” Andromeda said strongly.

Narcissa looked faint at the argument that was happening, and he knew his sister had a very good idea of what the likely outcomes of this meeting would be if her parents got their way. If they managed to sway Arcturus to disregard her childish claims.

“Clearly you’ve been far too liberal in your upbringing,” Walburga commented. “For your daughter seems to have forgotten her place in our family. That’s what happens when you raise daughters who believe they are worth more than the sons in the family. But I suppose when you have three of them, it gets hard to make sure they are all obedient.”

“Because your son is the shining example of a proper Heir of our house, is he not?” Druella snapped back. “Your Gryffindor son is a disgrace to this family, flaunting around with his blood traitor friends, making the Black family a laughing stock.”

“Enough,” Arcturus silenced them all. “We are here to listen to Andromeda’s requests. And then I shall make a decision. Not for your families to pettily argue over who raised their children better. Now I refuse to allow any one of you say another word until Andromeda has said her piece and has made her requests perfectly clear.”

Andromeda nodded at her grandfather as he faced her.

“Is it the man solely that you are upset over, or what he stands for?” Arcturus asked her. “If you were to meet with him and he to assure you that you would be treated equally in your marriage, would it sway your mind?”

“No,” Andromeda admitted. “It wouldn’t. I cannot stand what he stands for. I cannot be the perfect pureblood wife he would want me to be. And even if I were to meet with him, I know it wouldn’t change. I knew him for seven years in school. I know what kind of man he is, and what kind of husband he would be to me. Meeting with him would do little to change my perspective on him. Yet it is not just him that I know would behave that way. It is how most men in Slytherin would choose to act.”

“So you are declining not only a marriage to him, but from all the families your parents would find worthy of this family,” Arcturus commented looking at her carefully. “Which leads me to assume you most likely have an opinion on who you wish to marry. Or that you wish to remain a spinster for your life.”

She blushed, looking down, as she was called out on her reason for having the meeting.

“There is someone,” she admitted quietly.

And the resounding silence in the room echoed, as faces filled with shock.

Her sister looked stunned that her sister had been seeing someone without her known and hurt that she didn’t know.

Regulus looked interested, and wary of what she would say.

Bellatrix looked murderous, as she seemed to have a good idea of what was about to happen.

Sirius was sitting on the edge of his chair, waiting for her to release the truth.

And her parents looked like they were about to pass out.

“Am I fair in assuming that as you believe most Slytherins would treat you poorly that he is not one?” Arcturus asked her blankly.

“He’s a Hufflepuff,” she said, trying to hold out on saying his heritage for as long as possible.

“I see,” Arcturus commented. “You are aware my wife was a Hufflepuff, yes? So I cannot believe that to be the reason you are worried about announcing your attentions. For his house would not be problematic. But there are other reasons I can think of for why you have called this meeting. That being his blood status.”

“Yes,” she said softly, “He is a muggleborn.”

And if her parents looked like they were going to faint before, now they looked like they were going to have a heart attack.

“A mudblood?” Cygnus growled, face growing red. “You have been flaunting around with a mudblood at school, where you have been sent to get an education? Where you were sent to make strong connections, and instead you have been sullying yourself as you lowered yourself enough to consort with a mudblood. I should disown you now. The Malfoy family would never want you once they find out the truth.”

Andromeda was shaking, and Draco reached under the table to take her hand in his. She shot him a grateful look and he nodded back at her.

“I love him,” Andromeda said firmly, “I only approached you as a kindness. To give you a chance to prove me wrong. And if being disowned is what it takes for me to be happy and live a life I can accept, then I will. I’ll run away and be with him.”

“Even if it means leaving us behind?” Narcissa said, in a breaking voice. “For a man you would leave your family?”

Andromeda looked hurt, “I love you Cissa. But I can’t live a life where I’m unhappy. Do I not deserve a proper chance at a life that I want? At a life which I could truly be happy? Do I not deserve that much?”

Bellatrix looked furious, “But instead you would betray your family for what? A mudblood? You would give up those who love you and care for you for someone as unworthy as that?”

“It’s not too late,” Druella shook her head, “Tell me you remain pure. That you and that boy haven’t done anything you would regret. Tell me you haven’t given up your virtue for him, and we can still make your marriage work. We can say he confounded you, forced himself upon you, and that you tried to remain proper and as such came to your family right away.”

“No!” Andromeda shouted, tears streaming down her face. “I love him, and I will choose him over you every single time. I will not spread falsities to preserve your face. I will be with him. It’s just a matter of if you’ll still be in my life after or not.”

“Not if you associate with such filth,” Cygnus spat out. “You might as well have ruined our family.”

“Fine,” Andromeda stood up, “Then I’m leaving.”

“Enough!” Arcturus shouted. “I am still the Head of the House and you will all respect me as such and keep your arguments to yourself. Andromeda, sit down. I have yet to make a decision regarding your requests, and you will not leave until you do so.”

She looked tense but listened to him as she sat back down.

“When I was younger, I decided I would never force any of the members of my house into a marriage if they did not want to marry,” Arcturus said, looking at them all. “My cousin Cassiopeia was your age, when her parents wanted her to get married. They had arranged a proper alliance, as they called it to Cantankerus Nott.”

Draco looked up, wanting to listen to where his grandfather was going with his tale.

“She was like you,” Arcturus said fondly, “She had beliefs that women were more than their husband’s partner. That they were meant for more than simply producing heirs and keeping home. They were worthy of having dreams and careers, and love. But her father, Cygnus, didn’t agree. He believed just as yours that a daughter is nothing more than a tool to secure strong alliances. So much so that he tried to force her into the marriage. And instead, Cassiopeia took a potion. One which would leave her barren, removing the very thing a woman, in Cygnus’ eyes served a purpose for. The potion is dark magic, so much so that it has been banned for centuries, as it can be fatal. She nearly died while taking the potion, and was bed ridden for many months after. She was so strong in her ways that she preferred to remain a spinster than lower her values and marry someone she did not want to. And I decided then, that if any member of my family wished not to marry, that I would not force them to do so.”

Andromeda looked hopeful for the first time since the meeting started, and even Draco seemed to feel slightly curious of whether he would let her marry Ted.

“I do have some conditions, however,” Arcturus said firmly, raising his hand to stop her parents from protesting.

“There is a reason we prefer marriages to purebloods,” Arcturus said, “They are more in tune with their magic. More connected to their familial roots. But muggleborns are removed from their magic because they do not know their heritage. They do not know which lines they come from, and as such are not able to fully connect themselves to their magic. They are missing parts of themselves, and over generations, magic gets lost. It gets weaker. But it doesn’t have to be. If they just trace their roots then they can connect fully to their magic as they deserve to be. If you want to marry this boy, then he must trace his lineage to reclaim his family magic. And once he has done so, you may marry this boy, for then he would be a worthy match of our family.”

Draco was shocked at that. He had thought at the most that they would allow her not to marry Lucius, and in time she would marry Ted, even if still without their approval.

But Arcturus had gone and all but given her his blessing.

Cygnus looked furious, but as it was Arcturus who had made the ruling, he had little power to say or do otherwise.

And with that, it seemed as if the Black family had taken their first step in changing their fate.

Chapter Text

It was January when Hermione returned to school, with a strange sense of sadness to her. She had loved her parents in her old life, but there was a part of her that was always slightly relieved to be back at school. Because as much as her parents tried, they were never able to completely able to comprehend her world. They never understood magic as being a part of her, more than a skill one may possess. Like being able to play the piano. It was something she could do, but they believed it didn’t define her.

She knew that deep down, they always hoped that after her schooling that she would return to their world. To go to a muggle university and have a career in their world. To belong in their world once more. Because as much as they tried, they couldn’t relate to her life as a witch, but they could relate to her world as a muggle.

And as much as it had killed her to have done so, it was why she had oblivated them so they forgot their memory. Because she knew there was no way they would ever leave if they remembered her. There was no way she would be able to convince them that the threat was very much real and very much something they should consider running from. Because the moment Voldemort decided to come for them, they were as good as dead. And nothing they tried to do would be able to save them.

But now, returning back to school filled her with a sense of dread, a sense of pain. She missed her parents in her old life, but then she was glad to be back. Now she missed Euphemia and Fleamont’s warmth and love. She missed the life she had from her memories, and the traditions they had partook in during yule.

And it was nice at home, being able to spend time with her brother and her parents, all without a care in the world, as she were able to pretend that the war wasn’t brewing slowing outside the walls of her home, and that Voldemort was very slowly gathering more and more supporters. That everyone she knew in this time would be affected by Voldemort, one way or another, if she were unable to stop him. She needed to stop him, she had to stop him.

Coming back to school was like being thrown back in head first into the fight against Voldemort and preventing the future from coming to be. Because no matter how much she wanted for it never to come to pass, there was very little she could do as of yet. Not when she had to focus on the smaller pieces of the picture first.

There were things she had to do still. And being back at school was the only way she would be able to do so. It was the only way she would have access to all pieces on the chess board, shy of the dark King itself. It was the only way she would be able to access all the pawns and ensure that they never were able to cause as much damage as they could. Because while the higher pieces were still out of bounds, a single pawn could change the fate of the game if it were underestimated; if it were ignored. All she had to do was turn all the pawns against the king itself.

But comparing bringing down Voldemort to chess was a lot easier said that it was done.

“How was your break, Hermione?” Peter asked her, as he attempted to engage her in the conversation, and she felt herself growing irked at the interruption.

“It was good,” she responded, slightly cooler than she meant to, and judging by the look James was giving her, he was just as surprised by her response. Peter looked slightly off put by her cool demeanour and she felt herself feeling guilty at the action.

And she didn’t blame him. In the last few months, she had grown close to Sirius and Remus, and in the mean time she had made very little effort to try and get close to Peter.

It was hard, knowing who he was, and what he would do.

But she had to remind herself that he hadn’t done those things yet, and by being polarizing to him, she might in this timeline, be the reason he joined Voldemort in the first place. So instead, she would need to give him a chance. She couldn’t trust him, that would be foolish of her. But instead she would be polite to him and try and genuinely befriend him. And if in this timeline, she could change him, then it would be for the best. But she would not forget what he was capable of.

“How was yours?” she added, trying to seem more pleasant. “Did you have a good Yule?”

“I did,” Peter smiled at her, “Mum always makes the best cookies, and she definitely didn’t disappoint this year. You should have seen it! There were so many different flavours, it was brilliant!”

“And yet you didn’t bring any for us,” Sirius reminded, pouting slightly at her friend, and Remus rolled his eyes at them both. He exchanged a look with her, and she laughed despite herself. The conversation began to drift once more as James began talking about Quidditch and how the last match had gone, and she felt herself growing silent once more.

She didn’t say much the entire train ride to school, choosing instead to focus on the book Lily had given her. Not that she had much she wanted to say. Instead, she preferred to listen to her brother and his friends, carefree and relaxed.

It was easy to forget her own age at times. Because if she didn’t have the body and mental age of a child, she could still pretend she were in her twenties, as she had been before they had partaken in this venture to try and save the world. It was easy to pretend that she was still an adult.

But seeing her brother without a care in the world made her feel relaxed. They were pure and innocent, unharmed and untouched by the war that was yet to come. And they had nothing but happiness ahead of them for years to come. They would create a bond that would form them and make them tighter than brothers. They would be close knit friends, and she knew that in the years to come, as they became closer, that bond would only grow between them, and cause them to bind together.

And at times, when she was stressed, she used their carefreeness to remember what she was fighting for. Because she was fighting for the people she had known in the future to have a chance at a different life. For Harry to grow up with his parents. For Ron not to lose his family. For Neville to grown up with his parents knowing who he was. For Cedric not be sacrificed to callously. For all those she had known who lost their lives, or lost people close to them to have a chance at a different future.

But she was also fighting for the people she loved in this time line to have a chance at a different future. Not just because of what it would mean for the people she loved from her past, but also for what it meant for the people now. Because James and Lily deserved to see the man their son would become. Because Sirius did not deserve to be locked up for confronting someone he had thought to be a friend. Because Remus did not deserve to lose everyone in one swoop. Because Regulus deserved to live a life that amounted to more than a traitor to the Death Eaters. And so much more. They all deserved lives that amounted to more than what it meant for the future. They too deserved happiness.

She sighed to herself, as she watched the train pull into Hogsmeade, and her brother’s friends excitedly clamoured out of the cabin.

“Are you alright, Hermione?” James asked, looking worried as he stayed behind to talk to her.

“I am,” she smiled at her brother, feeling warmed by his concern.

“You barely said a word on the entire train ride here,” he frowned.

“I was lost in thought,” she admitted, “About what this term will bring.”

“It’ll be fine,” James said, as he held a hand out to hers, “You’re a brilliant student, Hermione. You don’t need to worry about things like school or stuff. And if anything outside of school is causing you worry, know that you can always talk to me about it, alright? I’ll always be here to listen to you and support you no matter what.”

“Thanks Jamie,” she smiled, as she slipped her arm through his. She could hardly tell him the truth, at least not yet, but it certainly helped knowing that her brother was willing to do anything to ensure her happiness. He was so much like Harry at times, that it hurt, thinking about her friend.

But instead she plastered a smile on her face. It was time to face with 1973 would bring for her.

Draco was already waiting for her in the library that day after meals when she got there. She supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised. Not when they had so much to discuss. She needed to know how it had gone with Andromeda and Arcturus, and what had happened during the house meeting.

She had seen Andromeda at the Slytherin table during dinner, but her face betrayed nothing as she had eaten her meal without as much as an emotion on her face. And from what she could tell it could have gone either way.

“Draco,” she greeted him, as she sat down at their table, and put up a privacy charm so that they would be left uninterrupted and that nobody would be able to listen in even if they wanted to.

“Granger,” he acknowledged, “I trust the rest of your break went well?”

“It did,” she smiled, “The Potters are a lovely family. How were yours?”

“Eventful,” he said, looking at her. “To say in the least.”

“How did it go with Andromeda?” She asked the question that had been plaguing her mind for the better part of the holidays, needing to know just what had happened as Andromeda had talked to Arcturus about Ted, as opposed to running away at the end of the year.

“It took an interesting turn of events,” he said softly, “Grandfather was surprisingly not against the idea of Andromeda marrying a muggleborn, provided he got his lineage traced and reclaimed his family magic. As long as he took on the name of whichever line he came from, then the two of them would be allowed to marry. He told us about Great Aunt Cassiopeia who had cursed herself barren to prevent her marriage, and how he refused to allow that to happen to anyone from his family again.”

She looked at him, stunned. She had thought that at the most, Andromeda would not be forced to marry Lucius, but she never would have imagined that that she would have been all but given Arcturus’ blessing to marry Ted Tonks. And it was hardly that much to ask from Ted for him to get his lineage tested. He loved Andromeda, from what she had seen in her own life. So asking him to take a small test to be able to marry the woman he loved was hardly that big of a burden on him.

“That’s incredible,” Hermione said softly, part of her was still filled with disbelief.

“I am just as astounded as you are,” he admitted. “Even Andromeda looked like she might cry when she was given his blessing. She thanked me after, because she was ready to run away, and now she has a chance not to have to leave her family behind because they were forcing her into a life she wanted nothing to do with.”

“How did the rest of your family take it?” Hermione asked, “They could hardly be pleased.”

“Father and Mother are furious,” he admitted, “She and Father got into a huge fight after, and he nearly hexed her on the spot. If it weren’t for the fact that Grandfather prohibited them from harming her, I’m sure she would have been tortured when we got home. Bellatrix isn’t speaking to her either. She’s furious that Andromeda is choosing to sully herself.”

“And Narcissa?” Hermione asked softly.

“She was upset with Andromeda. But I think it was more about the fact that Andromeda didn’t confide in her that hurt her more than the fact that she was seeing a muggleborn. They talked thought, and from what I can see, the two of them are doing fine.”

“I’m glad,” Hermione smiled. “Obviously it’s still not going to be easy for Andromeda, but at least she has her family’s backing from here on out. What about Lucius?”

“Father and Mother are already arranging to betroth Narcissa to him as a consolation,” Draco said, rolling his eyes in disgust. “It’ll depend how the Malfoys take the news of Arcturus’ accepting Andromeda’s decision. But in the past timeline the Malfoys still arranged the agreement between my Mother and Father so it’s hard to see that they would be opposed to the matter. Narcissa will most likely marry him shortly after she graduates.”

“And she won’t be able to oppose the marriage like your sister did?” Hermione asked, confused.

“She won’t want to,” Draco said, frowning. “I can already tell you that much. For how free and liberal Andromeda is, Narcissa is the opposite. She likes to abide by tradition and takes comfort in it. If Father tells her she’s marrying Lucius, then she will out of respect for her parents. It’s part of who she is.”

“Even though it’ll lead to her death,” Hermione surmised.

“Not if I can help it,” Draco’s eyes darkened. “I’d sooner kill Bellatrix or Lucius myself than let either of them harm her in anyway. Not if I can help it.”

“But this is good news,” Hermione said, trying to ease his tension. “It’s the first step for the Black family to change it’s fate. It shows that our presence is already changing things, one way or another. No matter how small, we’re already making the future a brighter place. And maybe this marks a change in direction for the Black family. It might even make them come out of the war, on the light side.”

He snorted at her. “It’s not that simple, Granger. You know as well as I do that it’s not as simple as good versus evil, light versus dark. Using dark magic doesn’t mean one is evil, it’s their intentions that make them such. A severing charm is light and can be used to cut fabric. But if used with evil intentions it can sever a person. Yet it is still light magic. Blood magic is thought to be dark, but it doesn’t need to be evil. Many ward charms are based on blood magic on order to secure family safety. It’s all about the intent behind the spell that makes one good or evil, not the type of magic. And maybe the Black family will emerge from the war yet to come on the good side, but the Black family always has been and always will be a dark family. It’s the way of our family magic. But this doesn’t mean we’ll always be evil.”

“You’re right,” she said softly. So many Slytherins were filled with Dark magic, that it was easy to classify them all as evil. But they weren’t. Not by default. So many Slytherin’s went to Voldemort’s side due to the fact that they had suffered injustices their entire lives. They were treated as evil by the rest of the school. Even Dumbledore overlooked malicious pranks when Slytherin’s were the victims. But if they were on the casting end of the wand, they were always in trouble. It was easy to fall to Voldemort’s offers of a life where they were not mistreated when they were in every other aspect of their life. It was easy to accept his offer of solace when Dumbledore offered nothing similar, and instead punished them and mistrusted them.

Dumbledore believed everyone could be redeemed, but he refused to take preventative measures from that pushed them over the edge in the first place. How could she and Draco go to Dumbledore and tell him they had a plot to save everyone, when it involved saving those he wouldn’t even protect from pranks?

How could they ask him for help when he seemed to think he always knew best? When he kept Harry in the dark because he thought it was easier. When he let Harry live with abusive relatives because he didn’t want him to be spoiled or in danger, despite having magical family, who would have loved him and treated him well. He had a godmother, who he should have gone to. He was placed with muggles even before Alice Longbottom was tortured into insanity.

Remus was never even offered a chance to raise or see Harry.

Andromeda was family to him too, albeit more distant, but family nonetheless.

How could they trust Dumbledore who had allowed Harry to be placed in danger’s way throughout their schooling? Who cared enough about Harry for his destiny but not enough to make sure he was loved or happy?

Dumbledore was not a bad man, but he was a man who seemed to believe he knew best.

And the last thing they needed was him trying to manipulate their plans. There could come a day when they needed his help, but it was hardly that time as of yet.

“You’re right,” she said again. “There is a difference between Light and Dark, and that doesn’t make one side right and the other wrong. Magic unites us all, and no one type of magic is better or righter than the other.”

He nodded at her, “But you are right that it means that there is a chance that the Blacks emerge out of this war on the opposite side. If we can convince Grandfather in time not to join Voldemort, then it could change things monumentally.”

“Let us hope that it comes to that then,” she said softly.

“Let us hope indeed,” he nodded, as he stood. “I should get going. Narcissa mentioned she wanted to talk to me before curfew and it’s getting late.”

“As should I,” Hermione stood, “James is planning a prank for tomorrow morning, and I want to know what to avoid so I don’t turn purple or something else just as ghastly happens to me.”

“If you manage to find out what the prank is, make sure you let me know,” he said, offering her a smile. She nodded back, as she headed back up towards the Gryffindor tower. The world wouldn’t change overnight, but through small actions such as these. Things were changing slowly, but they were changing, and for now that was more than enough.

Draco was exhausted by time he got back to the dungeons. And he wasn’t surprised to see the common room to be mostly empty, given just Narcissa sitting by the fire waiting for him.

“You’ve returned rather late,” his older sister raised a brow at him.

“Library,” he shrugged, offering a simple response. He didn’t want to mention just who he was with, and why he was meeting up with her.

“I see,” she said, not asking him to elaborate, but giving him a knowing look. He wondered what she meant by it, but he was too tired to ask her to elaborate either.

“You wanted to talk to me?” he asked her, sitting down beside her.

“You knew about Andromeda,” she said, not asking him. “And you’re the reason she spoke to Grandfather over the break.”

“How do you suppose that?” he asked, confused.

“Only two people were not surprised by her revelation at the meeting,” Narcissa deduced. “You and Sirius. Which means both of you already knew what she was going to talk about. However, out of the two of you, you are the only one who would have encouraged her to talk to Grandfather. I love Sirius, but he’s a Gryffindor through and through. He’s rash and doesn’t think his choices through. He’d sooner tell her to run away than he would tell her to talk to Grandfather. But you, you’re a true Slytherin. You plot, and you plan things out. Talking to Grandfather was her best chance at not having to give up her family and be able to marry Tonks. So you talked to her. Because as much as I love Andy, she’s too stubborn to have done it if someone hadn’t pleaded her.”

“You’re right,” he admitted to her, not bothering lying when she already knew the truth.

“Thank you,” she told him softly. “If you hadn’t done so, she would have run away and we would have lost our sister forever.”

“I love her as much as you do,” he told her, “I don’t want her to leave because Father wants her to marry Lucius. She deserves to be happy, but I don’t want to lose her either.”

“I know,” she said softly. “She never would have been happy with that sort of life. The life where she served as a pureblood wife, giving her husband heirs and raising his children. As being the spotlight of society and always acting properly. She needs someone who would let her be free and live the life she deserves.”

“Do you?” he asked his older sister softly. “Do you want to be a pureblood wife and do all those things that she wouldn’t want to do?

“It’s part of who I am,” Narcissa told him, slightly stiffly. “Not everyone can have grand dreams of working and ambitions to become great. Some of us want to be mothers and to have children. Some of us want that sort of life.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that, Cissy,” he told her. “You’re allowed to want different things than Andy or Bella. You’re allowed to want to adhere to the life you were raised to want. Just because Sirius and Andy want different things, there’s nothing wrong with the fact that you don’t.”

She nodded at him. “Thank you, Draco. I still have a few years before I am forced to worry about such things, but it is nice to know that I have you in my corner. And that you do not think I am foolish for wanting the things that Sirius and Andy turn their noses up at.”

“You are anything but foolish,” he told her, “You’re the only one outside of Andy and Sirius who knows that it was me who asked her to talk to Grandfather. No one else even suspects that I was aware. I believe father would be most displeased if he were to find that out.”

“He would,” she said looking at him, “But he never will find out, will he? As far as I’m concerned, I have a sister who will not be a blood traitor and a brother who prevented me from losing my sister. And if anyone asks, I was left just as in the dark as the rest of them were. After all, I only found out after she brought it up that she was even seeing a muggleborn. So I’m hardly at fault, now am I?”

He grinned at his older sister.

“No, you are not.” He laughed, “Besides, Father won’t ask anymore. Not when he already has it in his head that Andy went behind all of our backs to speak to Grandfather.”

“I’m glad she did,” Narcissa said softly, “She deserves happiness, even if it is by living a life I could never live for myself. She deserves to be happy and to be able to live the life she wants.”

“She does,” Draco said softly.

Because no matter how small of a change it was to the timeline, one person’s life would be different. One person would get to live a life where they were not an outcast. One person would be able to live a life without having to know her family wanted nothing to do with her.

And that made all the difference in the world.

Chapter Text

It’s half way through February when Draco brings the topic up, and she doesn’t know what to say about it, in all honesty.

Lily’s thirteenth birthday came and passed, and it was as eventful as could be for a second year in the middle of the school year.

They had gone to the kitchens, her, Snape, and Remus, to ask the house elves for some treats as well as a cake. She had felt bad about it, taking advantage of the house elves’ kindness and need to serve, but she was different from her first life. She better understood how the magic between a wizard and the house elves worked. She understood the connection now, and she was no longer as innocent as her first life where she believed them to be slaves.

She still didn’t think it was right. It was horrid that their magic and life forces depended on their servitude to their masters. But freeing them would only kill them all, and that was the last thing she wanted to do. She wanted to save them, not allow them to die.

But they had still gone out of their way to make a wonderful cake, which in turn had turned into a party for the Gryffindors, due to the amount of food the elves had provided them with. James had grinned at her, smiling at her gesture for her friend.

Lily had been pleased by it, hugging her tightly and telling her how much it had meant to her to have it done for her. She had been slightly upset that her sister had only written her a single lined note, wishing her a happy birthday, and Hermione knew it broke her heart that her sister couldn’t even bother to write more than that. Even for her birthday.

And Hermione could hardly blame her. Lily and Petunia Evans were once as close as she were to James. And if any thing were to happen in which James wanted nothing to do with her, then she wasn’t sure how she would cope. She had grown so used to having him as an older brother. To having him protect over her, even if she didn’t necessarily need it. And she wasn’t sure what she would do if one day something changed, and he decided he wanted no part in her life anymore.

So she grieved for Lily. She couldn’t necessarily fix their relationship. It wasn’t strained due to anything she had control over. Petunia was jealous of Lily’s magic, and she never was able to get over it. So much so that she became abusive of her own nephew, and let her husband abuse him as well. And the only way she could amend that was if Lily never had magic in the first place. And that was hardly a change Hermione was willing to make. It wasn’t fair to her friend to have to give up part of who she was just to appease her sister. Just to make sure her sister felt slightly less left out. She couldn’t do anything about that, and she refused to try. Not when it meant sacrificing Lily’s own happiness for Petunia’s.

She and Snape were on slightly better terms now. He hardly snarked out comments every time he saw her, and she knew it was thanks to her brother’s confrontation with him. But at the same time, they were hardly friends either. He acknowledged her if he needed something from her, but the rest of the time, he just ignored her.

Which she supposed in all honesty was better than before. At least he no longer hated her. At least he no longer went out of his way to hex her brother, nor he his.

But he didn’t hate her anymore.

And that had to count for something. He was hardly free from the path from joining the Death Eaters, and she knew the temptation would only seek to grow in the coming years. But if she and Lily could offering him true, unconditional, friendship, and if he didn’t face outside torment, which she knew her brother and his friends had contributed to in their past lives, then maybe he wouldn’t seek solace with Voldemort and his followers. Maybe then he wouldn’t directly deliver the prophecy, if it still existed in this life, directly to Voldemort himself.

Of course, they had no way of even guaranteeing that the prophecy wouldn’t exist in this life. Obviously, they hoped that if they had managed to defeat Voldemort in time, it wouldn’t fall to Harry to be the Chosen One. But there was no way of ensuring that the future they wanted would come. They could only try their hardest and hope that it would be enough to bring down Voldemort before it fell to Harry to do so. Or if a prophecy were to be made, maybe in this life, it wouldn’t fall to Harry, but it would concern the two of them instead. And then Harry would be able to live a relatively normal life for once.

She had a few years though, before Snape would need to choose once and for all between Lily and the Death Eaters. Before he would need to choose between who he wanted to be, and what it would mean for him.

She already knew he practised Dark magic, but unlike what Lily might believe, she knew it didn’t make him evil. She just needed Snape to know that Dark magic was acceptable, but he didn’t need to join Voldemort to feel like he had a place in the world. He just needed to know that he would always have a place in their lives, by their side. But all of that would change if he were to choose Voldemort and his ways. Because if in this life, if he still chose to be a Death Eater then there would be nothing she could do to be able to save him. There was nothing she could say to redeem him.

It’s on that note that Draco brings up the topic, as she’s informing him of her progress with Snape and how things are slightly starting to look better for his future.

“And how about the others?” Draco asked her, “Sirius, I am aware about. He’s still not talking to Regulus, despite both of us asking him to do so. And I assume your brother is doing well, given the fact that he’s taken not to hexing random students in the hallways.”

“Yes,” she said, smiling despite herself. It was a nice change, to see her brother acting like the boy she knew him to be, and not the boy who hexed random students for a mere laugh. It was nice to see him maturing slightly. Of course, he still partook in pranking students, but for the most part they were harmless, and she wouldn’t have him stop doing so. It was as much a part of who he was as the rest of the things that made his personality were. And to ask him to stop was not something she wanted to do. Even if it meant being at the mercy of his pranks and praying that he would give her enough head’s up so that she was not affected by the prank.

“And Lupin?” Draco asked her, “Have you talked to him yet? About his condition?”

She shook her head, “I’m waiting for the opportune moment. I also didn’t want to address it too soon in our friendship. I needed to make it seem like I actually did pick up on it by seeing the signs. That enough full moons have passed that I noticed the trends to his absences. But I also want to build up a friendship with him first. I have no doubt in my mind that he will not tell me of his condition first if he can help it. The only way I can assure him I know is if I approach him myself. But before I do that, I want him to know that I am truly his friend, and that I mean him no harm. That I mean it when I tell him that I don’t think any differently of him. And he’s slowly seeing me more and more as a friend and not just his friend’s little sister. I want him to come to love himself and be less ashamed. And one day I will fight for his rights through the Ministry, but until then, the least I can do is make sure he knows that he is loved.”

“Smart,” he acknowledged, “It gives you the upper hand, so that he can hardly protest that he doesn’t believe in your genuineness. Not when he knows you for who you are and knows that you would hardly be able to lie about such a thing. It would be good for him too, to know that others besides his group of friends know about him, and don’t think any differently of him. And maybe in a few years, we can arrange for him to take wolfsbane potion, but until then at least he won’t feel as alone as he was before.”

“And Pettigrew?” Draco asked her, and she felt herself sighing at the internal debate she had been having all year in regard to the last member of her brother’s group of friends.

The one she knew she had to try and save, but the one she didn’t want to. The one who she knew what she must do about but couldn’t stand to look at him without remembering each time just who he was and what he did for Voldemort. What he continued to do for Voldemort. And what he died doing, for Voldemort. He betrayed his own friends, time and time again, and each time she looked at the small, chubby, boy, she had a hard time seeing past any of it.

“I’m trying,” she sighed. “I’m trying to save him, despite every fiber of my being not wanting to because of who he is. And I want to be able to save him, but not for his sake. I don’t want James, or Sirius and Remus, to know the pain of losing a brother, not by death, but by his betrayal. They don’t deserve for him to do what he’s going to.”

“You can’t hate him for things he hasn’t done yet,” Draco said softly, reminding her. “Or you may be the reason he does those things. Because you ostracise him.”

“What about you?” she countered, “Are you going to save your oldest sister? After what she does to your family? After she kills your future cousin? Your mother? After what she did to the Longbottoms? After she tortured me? Do you still want to save her, as she hasn’t done those things yet?”

“Is it not worth trying?” he asked, “Don’t get me wrong, I have a hard time looking her in the eyes. And after the new childhood I had by this ritual, I can already tell that nothing pushed her over the edge to join Voldemort. She did that all on her own. But are they worth not at least trying to save? Maybe not for their own sakes, but to prevent others from getting hurt by their actions if they do? If Pettigrew and Bella join, that’s two more people we have to fight against. Two more people who could kill countless others. Do we not owe it to them to try?”

“You’re right,” she conceded. “We do owe it to them. Even if I hate it with every part of me. Even if I can’t stand to look at him. We need to at least try.”

He smiled at her softly, “It’s not going to be easy, Granger. But at least we can say we gave it our all this time around. And if the world still burns then we tried our hardest to save it. And maybe our future was always meant to dim out. But if we burn out tomorrow, then at least we can truly say that we gave it our all and tried changing the entire board around to save it. “

She decides to start truly trying to save Peter Pettigrew the next day, and sighs to herself. She really doesn’t want to, but Draco was right.

And truly, she’s being selfish. Why are some lives more worth saving than others? What gives her the right to choose who should live and who should die? If she had the chance to save them all, doesn’t she owe it to them all to give them a chance? If she tried her best to save Peter, and yet he still fell to the dark side, then it was always his destiny to do so. But if there were a chance, no matter how small it was, to try and save him, didn’t she owe it to him to try?

He was Peter Pettigrew, a twelve-year-old, who had yet to do anything wrong. Who loved his friends and followed them around with nothing but utmost devotion. And one day, he would grow tired of being overlooked, of being taken for granted, and want more for his life. And it would be the Death Eaters who offered him that. But it wasn’t as if James or Sirius or Remus overlooked him. No, they loved him as a brother. They loved him wholly and with utmost respect. Peter’s own insecurities were what pushed him over the edge in the end. And maybe, if she could show him that he was more than that. That he was worthy of their friendship, and that they weren’t friends with him out of pity, it would be the first step to truly saving Peter Pettigrew.

And at the end of the day, if it still wasn’t enough, and if he still decided he wanted to follow Voldemort, then so be it. But at least she can say she gave it her all, and truly tried to make his life better.

It’s how she found herself, that day in the library, staring over to where Peter was standing by himself, looking slightly downtrodden and confused as to where he should sit.

And she could hardly blame him. It wasn’t as if he came to the library often enough that he had a set place at any of the tables. It wasn’t as if he had true study partners.

She knew if he asked Remus, then his friend would be more than happy to study with him. But Remus was away today, as it was just before the full moon. So he could hardly ask his friend to study with him.

He looked up just then and saw her staring at him and she took a deep breath, as she raised her hand to wave him over. He looked shocked at first, as she had hardly gone out of her way before to try and make friends with him, but after a moment, it was relief that filled his face. Relief that he wouldn’t be left standing by himself, and that someone wanted him to study with them.

When he sat beside her, she saw him smile at her softly, “Thanks, Hermione. The library was getting so full that I didn’t think that I would be able to find anywhere to sit.”

“It’s no problem really,” she said, forcing herself to smile. “Remus is off today anyways, and Lily and Snape had other things to do today, so I have the entire table to myself. You’re more than welcome to share it with me.”

He pulled out his book just then, and she saw watched from time to time as he struggled with his Transfiguration spells for turning a beetle into a button.

“Your wand movements are slightly off,” she told him softly, “You have the incantation correct, but you need to move your wrist slightly quicker to keep it all in one swift movement for the spell to work correctly.”

He looked at her in surprise, and tried doing what she suggested, moving his wand arm quicker, and the beetle before him changed in a button.

“How did you know that?” he asked her in surprise, “It’s a second-year spell!”

“I like to study,” she shrugged, trying to look modest. “Transfiguration is rather fascinating, so I like to read ahead to keep challenging myself.”

“I think Sirius is right at times when he claims you’re related to Remus,” Peter said, in disbelief. “James is brilliant, don’t get me wrong. But that was such a Remus response.”

She shrugged once more, “James has his own strengths. He likes practical applications to his knowledge. I like to apply my knowledge to furthering my education.”

“Thank you,” he nodded, “I know the two of us are hardly friends. Not like you and Remus or Sirius seem to be. So it means a lot that you are helping me study. Especially when you have no reason to need to do so.”

She felt guilty at his words, knowing he picked up on her cool demeanour towards him, and she felt slightly ashamed of herself in that moment.

She saw him then as what he truly was, a boy who was scared and insecure, and moreover, just wanted friends who knew him and respected him, regardless of who he was. He was just a boy, shy and timid, as Neville once had been, and she felt shame fill her as she remembered how much anger she had held towards Pettigrew, for things he once had done, and still might do. And perhaps his crime had been one of the worst of all. But he had yet to commit them. Yet to do so. For now, he was just a boy, scared and shy, and all he wanted was friends.

He was just a boy, and she had been treating him like a criminal. And if he chose to betray her friends once more, she would be the first to make sure he paid for his crimes. But until he did so, he was still an innocent boy, and if there was a chance she could save him, she didn’t just owe it to the countless people he would harm to try. She also owed it to him to try.

He supposed he shouldn’t have been that surprised when his mother pulls him aside to talk to him. It was only really a matter of time that he found out what he already knew would happen. He had been well aware for some time now that it was a high possibility of such a thing coming to pass. So in reality, he wasn’t all that surprised when she sat down beside him in the common room and told them they needed to talk.

“Draco, I have some news from Mother and Father,” she said softly. “They have been in talks with the Malfoys since Andromeda talked to Grandfather, trying to rework what to do about the alliance that had been broken between her and Lucius. The Malfoys were hardly happy to find out Grandfather’s decision, as it means that perhaps the Blacks were not as traditional of a family as they hoped.”

“I see,” he said softly, looking at his older sister. “What does this mean for now?”

“It means that our parents appeased them by reworking the arrangement that once would have been between Andromeda and Lucius. They have instead arranged for me to marry him upon my graduation. As they believe I would be a far better, more traditional wife for him instead.”

“And how do you feel about this?” he asked her softly. He knew how he felt about it. He hated it, knowing what it would mean for his mother if the two of them were to get married this time around as well.

“I think that it’s a good match,” she said softly, after thinking on it for a moment. “He would give me the life I want, and the life I’ve always grown up wanting. I would be able to be a mother and raise his children.”

Even though she would die doing so.

He felt his throat close up, unsure of what to say. What did he say to the woman who raised him in a past life, knowing that his choice to try and ensure that Andromeda would be happy would mean securing his own mother’s death?

Of course, it wasn’t all that simple. Andromeda would have ended up with Ted Tonks one way or another. She would have run away if she had not chosen to have spoken to Grandfather. Her being in the family still was not the reason that his mother would be marrying Lucius. She always would have done so, regardless of what happened with Andromeda.

But the difference now, was perhaps she didn’t need to marry Lucius. Perhaps he would be able to persuade her from doing so. There still was time before she graduated school. Perhaps he would be able to persuade her that she could still have the life she wanted, but with a husband who wouldn’t ensure her death if she married him. Perhaps he would be able stop her from becoming a Malfoy.

And even if he weren’t able to do so, then at the very least, he could ensure she would not die. That she never would have to suffer the way she did the first time around. That she would not have to house Voldemort after her husband’s arrest. That her children would not be forced to become Death Eaters because her life was being threatened. He would stop all of that from happening to her. He would stop her from suffering the same way she once had. She deserved better than what happened to her. As his mother or his sister, she deserved better. He refused to let her die because of her choices to try and save them all.

“You could speak to Grandfather,” he said, despite knowing what she would say.

“I could, but I do not have any issues against the marriage,” she reminded him. “Lucius is ambitious and everything I could want for a husband. He will provide me status and security, and I would provide him heirs. And maybe the two of us would be able to fall in love one day, but all of that is secondary in nature. I don’t think I would be able to get any matches better than this. Perhaps it is a blessing, that Andromeda refused the marriage.”

He couldn’t look at her. How could he when he knew the truth. That what she considered a blessing was really a curse in disguise. That it would kill her, and that if he were unable to save the future, then she would die once more, protecting a child that was no longer him. Because Draco Malfoy had been erased from the timeline. He would never exist as who he was anymore. All that existed was Draco Black. And whatever child borne from the union of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy would most likely suffer the same fate he once had, if he were not successful.

“Okay,” he said softly, but because he didn’t know what else to say. Maybe it would be different for his mother this time. Maybe if Voldemort was never in the picture as he had been last time, then she wouldn’t be forced to suffer the same injustices as she had the last time around. Maybe she would be able to live a life that she wanted. As a pureblood society wife, and a mother, who raised her children to live blissful, innocent lives. Maybe she would be happy this time around, if he were successful.

And it broke his heart, knowing that if he failed, she would still suffer the same ways he once had. And that he would be able to do very little to save her from that fate.

Chapter Text

It’s not until April when Andromeda comes to him once more. Somehow, the last two months passed by with a flurry of school work and assignments hanging over him.

It’s strange to think that even with his advantage of having done the material once before, there is still so much work he had to do. Even while having studied all the material once before, it’s astounding how much of the theory he’s forgotten, as it no longer was all that relevant to him while doing things like fighting his father’s regime and trying to stay alive.

He bet, however, that Granger had no issues trying to remember the material whatsoever. He was sure that she remembered everything perfectly and was busy trying to learn material way beyond their NEWTs out of boredom and was most likely learning TOAD level materials. He was sure she probably didn’t have to study for any test if she didn’t want to.

And for that, he envied her a little bit.

 He had hated her so much, growing up, as he had come to school with a set notion of how things had to be, sure that he would be on the top, and that all the half-bloods and muggleborns would be inferior to him. And yet, here stood this muggleborn who was smarter than him, better than him. She had all the answers to any questions their professors threw at them, and more importantly, her grades were always higher than him. And it had driven him insane that she was so brilliant. That she was capable of doing so well without even having to apply herself to the material. That she always seemed to be one step ahead of him, even when he tried to keep up.

But now, he was jealous more than anything. He knew their mission was important, and that there was a reason they had gone back to 1972, instead a time closer to the future when they would be closer to their actual past ages. It was important to befriend those who were key players in aiding or fighting Voldemort and changing their fates to ones that were far better for the future and for their own sakes.

But he hated it. He hated being so young and having to redo materials which he hated learning the first time around. He hated having to study for hours on end once more, especially on materials which were barely interesting the first time around, and just plain repetitive the second time around. He hated it more than anything, and he wished more than that, that he wouldn’t have to.

He wondered if they went to Dumbledore, if they would be able to get some sort of pass on doing work.

It was unlikely of course. It would only raise more questions on their mission from Dumbledore himself, and on top of that, he would suggest that it was necessary to their cover to pretend to be students. As if they weren’t it would raise more questions and draw suspicions onto them far sooner.

It wasn’t that he hated the old man, hell, he had believed that he was the reason he died for so many years. No, he hated that the man very clearly hated all Slytherins alike. That for all he preached house unity, he barely believed in it himself. He isolated Slytherins, treating them like they were all evil, and making them feel like they were outsiders. He hated the man for that, but more importantly, he hated that he couldn’t even do anything to prove him wrong.

And this time around, he had to say that he agreed with Hermione’s assessment. Dumbledore always thought he knew what was best for the Greater Good. He would probably insist they don’t change anything, as Voldemort did fall eventually in the future, never mind the hundreds that died each time. Never mind the fact that Voldemort wasn’t even the worst of it. That the reign of his father after was far worse. He knew there were dangers to time travel, they all did. One misstep could make things far worse for the future. For all they knew, they may accidently make it so that Voldemort won far sooner and failed to fall the first time. For all the knew they were breaking the world far sooner.

It was why they had done so many calculations before they left. Trying to find out which was the best year to return to, which were the people likely to be swayed one way or another, who mattered the most in the war. Because while they wanted to save as many people as possible, there were some people who were more pivotal in the war than others, and some whose decisions can either save them or ruin them all. There were some people they needed to save, and that was non-negotiable. Both for sentimental reasons, but also because their deaths were monumental for the Order, and their actions needed to be changed.

And while he knew he couldn’t save his father, he could save his godfather from living a life filled with regrets. Even if Lily would always choose James, at least Severus could remain her friend, and not have to live the rest of his life knowing that he indirectly killed her when he spoke of the prophecy to Voldemort.

At least they could save some people and change their fates.

So when Andromeda sat beside him that day in the common room, he found himself curious as to what she had to say. He hadn’t heard much about what was going on with his elder sister in regard to her and Ted’s courtship, and he couldn’t help but wonder if things were going well for her.

“He got his lines tested,” Andromeda said to Draco as she sat gracefully beside him on the sofa. For it would be unseemly for a proper lady to sit any other way. He supposed that some things, such as who she chose to love, would never be able to change years of behavioural training.

“And?” Draco asked curiously, “What were the results?”

“He’s related to the Sayre family,” she said softly, “I’m assuming somewhere along the way a squib was born into the family which later moved into the muggle world. Of course that line all but died out when William and Rionach Sayre died in a fire. Their daughter married a Steward, and that ended the line.”

“Isolt Sayre?” Draco asked in surprise, “As in the founder of Ilvermorny?”

“That’s the one,” Andromeda nodded, “It was probably a squib earlier in the line though. For once the Stewards moved to the New World, they never returned. But as the line merged into the Stewards, it means there’s no one around to claim the title of the Lordship. Meaning as Ted is the first one in centuries to be traced to the line, he would become the Lord of the house.”

“It’s not a bad house to be descended from,” Draco said, impressed, “They’re a rather old family. I’m sure if they were still around, they would be a part of the Sacred 28.”

“As am I,” Andromeda smiled. “He claimed his family magic earlier, and it accepted him. Honestly, it’s all so strange for him, to be told that he can claim a heritage he knew nothing of just days before. And of course, it changed his magic as well. He’s trying to adjust to the new-found power that he gained and adapt as he studies for his NEWTs. But he’s taking it in good stride. He wants to be with me, and he knows that this is the only way my family will accept us. And while he doesn’t understand it, he understands that they care about tradition. He just wants me to be happy, and he knew how much it would kill me if I had to give up my family.”

“You’re lucky to have him,” Draco smiled at his older sister. “I’m glad the results were something positive. Have you told Grandfather the news yet? How did he take to it?”

“I owlled Grandfather a few days ago with the results of the bloodlines test so that he can see it for himself,” Andromeda confirmed. “I wanted him to have undeniable proof of Ted’s heritage.”

“And?” Draco asked, “What did he say?”

“He accepted it,” Andromeda smiled, “Said that it made a for a good match due to the family lines. It also helps that if I marry Ted, I won’t just be a wife to a second or third son. I’ll be the Lady of the family. The match allows us to add new alliances to the Black family and so it’s a good political and social marriage. Ted has permission to court me freely now. Mother and Father are still upset with me that I went to Grandfather, but now that Ted is the Lord of his house, they’re begrudgingly accepting it.”

“I’m happy for you, Andy,” he said, smiling brightly at his sister. In just a few months, he already managed to change the fate of one member of the house of Black. And that in itself was an accomplishment.

Sirius had run away because Andromeda’s elopement got her disowned, and he knew he couldn’t have any part of a family that pushed him towards Voldemort. He knew he couldn’t abide by their rules and lifestyle. But now, even if his parents didn’t approve fully, they were accepting a marriage that they denounced in their past lives. All because Draco had begged her to stay and talk to their grandfather. All because he got his lines tested, accepted his magic fully. And as such, Andromeda wouldn’t be cut off from her family. Narcissa would be able to maintain a relationship with at least one sister. And Sirius would not have to look at his family filled with disgust at their quickness to cut off their own child.

“Thank you, Draco,” she said softly. “I was so sure my love wouldn’t be accepted. That I was going to be cut off from the family, that I didn’t even want to risk talking to our family. I was sure of what they would say. But you reminded me why family is important. Because even with our parents’ insanity, I still love them. And it would have broken my heart to leave my siblings and cousins behind because I wanted a different sort of life. You gave me a chance to have a future that I never would have dreamed that I was capable of having and gave me a chance to have both a happy marriage and my family.”

“I couldn’t lose you,” he admitted, “And I know Cissy feels the same way. You’re our older sister, even if you’ve fallen in love, I don’t want to lose you. It’s bad enough knowing that you will all change your names when you marry so that we don’t share a name any more. But I couldn’t lose you from my actual family. That would kill me.”

“I didn’t want to lose you either,” Andromeda told him, “I don’t want to lose you. And I hope that in this new alliance, I’ll be able to maintain a long lasting alliance with the future head of the house and keep the alliance between the Blacks and the Sayres strong. You are all my family, and I don’t want to lose any one of you.”

“You won’t,” he promised, “Regulus could care less who you marry as long as you’re happy. And Narccisa and I just want you to be in our family. Sirius would have told you to follow your heart, consequences be damned. But we all want what’s best for you. And now that Grandfather has approved the marriage, you’ll get everything that you’ve ever dreamed of.”

“I just hope Bellatrix sees it as the same way as you do,” Andromeda sighed.

“She still isn’t talking to you?” Draco asked, frowning. And when Andromeda shook her head, he said, “She’ll come around.”

But he couldn’t blame her when his sister looked unconvinced. For even he wasn’t sure Bella would ever forgive her. In her eyes, Ted was still a mudblood, even with his newfound magic.

He’s curious as to the entire notion of getting one’s bloodlines tested. It was never anything he had to worry about in. the past. He was a Malfoy, and thus knew his magic inherited the Malfoy family magic. He never knew what it was like to not be in tune with one’s full magical core. He never knew what it must have been like for muggleborns of half-bloods who did not take full advantage of their lines.

There was no denying that muggleborns could be powerful, and some were a lot more in tune with their magic, despite not having claimed their full magic properly. Hermione Granger and Lily Evans were perfect examples of such a thing.

It was how he found himself, a few days after having talked to his sister, in the library across from Granger, filled with curiosity.

“Do you have something to say?” she asked, sighing as she looked up at him. “You’ve been glancing over at me every few minutes for the last hour.”

“I’m a bit curious about something, but I don’t want you to take it the wrong way,” he admitted, not sure if he would insult her with his question or not.

“Just ask,” she sighed, as she made eye contact with him.

“Did you ever think about getting your lines tested before? To find out which family you had descended from? Not that it matters,” he added quickly, “We both know you were powerful with just your magical core. It didn’t matter that you didn’t have your family magic aiding you. You were just as brilliant, even without it.”

“I thought about it,” she admitted, blushing slightly. “When I was younger, and first came to Hogwarts, there was such a cultural gap. So I wanted to learn everything I could about this new world. I wanted to lean the customs and the proper societal protocols. And somewhere along the line, I wondered where muggleborns came from. Because magic cannot just be spontaneously created. I found out that all muggleborns are descended from squibs. So I wanted to know which family I came from.”

“Which family was it?” he asked her.

“Slughorn wasn’t off when he asked if I was related to Hector Dagworth-Granger. I’m distantly related to him through the Granger family, and I’m assuming there was a squib somewhere along the line which my branch of the family was descended from.”

“Why did you never claim your magic?” he asked her again.

“Once upon a time, I might have,” Hermione shrugged. “Ron and Harry would have insisted it didn’t matter if I told them. Neither one were much for tradition, Harry out of ignorance of it, and Ron because his family didn’t care. I wanted to get through school on my own merits, and not because of my family name. I was planning on doing it after graduation, but then before I even had the chance we were engulfed by a war. And even after it ended, the world made it apparent really quickly just how it felt about muggleborns. I never would have been allowed to have claimed my magic, thanks to the damage caused by Voldemort. I don’t think it would have made a difference though, in the end, even if I had tried.”

He looked at her, eyes softening. It was different for her this time around. She was a pureblood by birth, and as such had the claim to her magic already. She might not have been the heir to the house, but she could access her magic just as freely as she would have been able to had she claimed her magic the last time around. But Hermione Granger never had the chance to truly accept magic in its entirety. Before she could, the world went to hell, and her chances with it.”

“Maybe this time, it will be different,” he said softly. “If we succeed, we can make sure there are more resources for muggleborns coming into our world. They don’t need to feel so out of place and alone. We can have classes on customs and give them the chance to claim their magic when they come of age. Merlin knows it was never Dumbledore’s priority. And even if he had tried, wizards like my father on the Board of Directors never would have allowed it. But this time can be different. This time we can make the world easier to navigate for muggleborns.”

She smiled at him softly, “That would be fantastic,” she admitted to him, “If there were even a chance of making things easier for them, then I would love to try.”

He felt his heart stutter slight at the sight of her smile, and he knew that it was probably more out of surprised kindness than anything else. The old Draco Malfoy never would have suggested that they let muggleborns claim their magic, for when he subscribed to his father’s beliefs, it would have gone against everything he believed in. muggleborns coming into their world and claiming magic they had no place in accepting.

But this Draco knew better. This Draco lost his mother through his father having those beliefs which were so clearly wrong. Muggleborns belonged in this world just as much as the rest of them did. And to deny them their magic, which flowed through them all equally and gave them life, was inhumane.

This Draco knew that it was the way to save the wizarding world. To accept all witches and wizards alive, and not deny them their rightful magic. For if he did, they would end up at the same point in time that they had left, with the wizarding world dying from their disease of hatred.

It’s half way through April when the full moon approaches, and Hermione can see the changes in Remus’ demeanour. His face has begun to pale, and he looks more sleep deprived than he did for the rest of the month. She can see him looking worn out, and it doesn’t take much to know why he looks the way that he does.

By now, she’s been friends with him for roughly seven past full moons and has heard every excuse that James has to offer as to why their friend disappears for a few days each month.

The most common is that his mother is sick and that he’s gone home to spend sometimes with her. On full moons that were especially bad, James offers that Remus is sick and is resting in their dorm until he feels better.

And maybe if she didn’t already know the truth, she would believe it a little more. Or if she cared less about Remus, she wouldn’t be able to see the signs as clear as day. But the fact of the matter is that she does know, and neither her age nor her ignorance to the fact can change. She knew the truth and she was tired of sitting on it hoping that by some odd miracle Remus would come to her instead. Both of them knew the truth; Remus would no sooner tell her the truth of his condition than Voldemort would surrender to them in the morning. Neither had a chance of happening, despite how easy it would make her life.

Thankfully, she knew that it had been long enough that she would be able to eventually approach Remus and tell him that she were more than aware of the truth. It had been months of him hiding his condition from her, and when she did approach him, she could always say that she had noticed the pattern over the last few months. While September or October would have been far too soon to admit such a thing, the year was nearly over.

And Merlin knew that if she shrugged and said it was simply a matter of her paying attention to the timings and seeing the signs that he would be more than likely to believe her.

She knew it wouldn’t be easy. It was likely that he would be upset that she knew the truth, defensive and unsure of how to react. But she needed to assure him that she only wanted what was best for him. That she still cared about him and that it didn’t need to change anything.

It was probably what she would have told him the first time around if during their confrontation she hadn’t been so sure that he was aiding the escaped convict Sirius Black who wanted nothing more than to murder his godson.

Of course, knowing Sirius now she knew it was impossible to even believe such a thing. Sirius was far too kind to ever betray them as such. And it almost made her wonder how no one had sought fit to question the outcome and how Sirius were capable of hurting the man he considered to be like a brother, and his family.

This time would be different. She would tell Remus just how she still cared for him, and how it didn’t matter to her one bit that he was a werewolf. She just needed to be smart about it.

Snape stared at the Potter girl from across the hall. Merlin knew that it had been months since her brother confronted him in the library, and he still had barely talked to the girl.

It wasn’t that he still hated her. It was that he was genuinely perplexed by her. If she hadn’t been sent to befriend him as a ploy by her brother to plan out a plot for a prank, then she genuinely did just want to be friends with him. She genuinely, for some reason, wanted to get to know him.

And it might have been hard for her at first to make friends, with him and Lily apparently being her first attempts. And that made him feel all the worse.

Of course she had grown in the last few months, befriending her brother’s friends, independent of her brother’s friendship with them. And she had made quite a few friends in her own house, befriending some of the girls in her year.

She might not have held the same sort of popularity that her brother held, but she was hardly lacking in the friend department.

It was what he told himself when he felt guilty for not having apologised to her as of yet, making himself feel better by saying that she already had friends. She befriended him when she didn’t know anybody. She didn’t need to be his friend now that she had friends of her own.

But he knew deep down that it was a lie. She might have stopped trying to talk to him, but he knew it still hurt her when he ignored her so plainly, especially during her continued study sessions with them.

Merlin knew it was hard for him to make friends. But here was a girl who clearly wanted to befriend him with no ulterior motives, as he had grown to expect in his own house, or without any care for his blood status or family. She genuinely wanted to be his friend.

And in all honesty, he wasn’t all that sure how to handle that. Lily wanted to be his friend because he was familiar. Because he introduced her to the wizarding world. Because he had shown her magic at a young age.

But Potter wanted to be his friend simply because she thought he was a decent parson.

And worse, he had accused her of having ulterior motives, when in actuality there were none. And it took getting told off by her brother, whom he hated, and still thought he ought to hate, for him to realize that he was in the wrong. And that he was, simply put, an arse.

Maybe, it wouldn’t be so bad to try and be her friend. Merlin knew he hardly had many true friends. And if she could still want to be his friend after everything, then maybe she was worth hanging onto.

Chapter Text

She felt nervous as she made her way over to where Remus was sitting. It had been almost a month since the last full moon, and she knew that it was only a matter of a few days before he started exhibiting symptoms of the on-setting moon.

She had spent the better part of the last month going over all the different ways she could tell Remus that she knew his secret, and the better part of the month going over all the different outcomes to each scenario.

He was a few feet away from her, and she took a deep breath as she approached him, filled with nervousness and anticipation.

“Hermione,” Remus smiled, as she sat down beside her, “How are you feeling for exams? I know you’ve probably started studying ages ago.”

“Hopefully prepared,” she said in a distracted voice. “Studying with you and Lily has really helped.”

“You seem distracted,” Remus noted as he closed his books to look at her carefully. “Is everything alright?”

“No,” she said softly. “Remus, what would you do if you had a friend who was keeping a terribly big secret from you?”

“It depends on why they were keeping it a secret,” Remus said carefully, and she knew he was trying to gage where she was going with the conversation.

“See the thing is, I know why they’re keeping it a secret. They are well within their rights to be doing so,” Hermione said to him. “But at the same time, I still know what I do, and I can’t help knowing what I do.”

“Have you considered waiting for them to tell you on their own terms?” Remus asked her.

“I don’t think they would ever tell me the truth,” she admitted. “It’s not exactly a pleasant secret for them, and I can’t see them willingly telling anyone ever. It’s the kind of secret that could be life changing. It would have been life changing for them. And I don’t want them to have to keep it a secret.”

“Even if they are well within their rights to be keeping it a secret?” he asked her curiously. “You said it was their secret to keep. Why is it necessary that they confide the truth in you? Why is it necessary that you find out the truth?”

“Because I can see it hurts my friend,” she whispered. “Because I know it kills him to have to keep it inside each day, knowing what it means for him, and knowing what it does to him. And I hate not being able to help.”

“Even if you couldn’t directly help?” Remus asked, “If there was nothing you actually could do to offer any sort of help whatsoever? You still want to help?”

“I might not be able to fix it,” she breathed, “But I can offer my own emotional support. To be there for him regardless of what he was going through. To let him know that he’s not alone, and that people still love him despite the secret he’s holding in.”

“Maybe they don’t want you to know,” Remus raised a brow, “Have you thought about that? Maybe it’s harmful if too many people know, and he’s trying to limit the number to protect himself.”

“Maybe,” she shrugged, “But he shouldn’t have to hide it from people who care about him. People who wouldn’t see him any differently if they knew the truth. The people who are his true friends.”

He closed his eyes, and rubbed his temples, before taking a deep breath and looking up at her.

“How did you guess?” he asked her softly, letting the pretense drop. “How did you find out the truth about me?”

“It wasn’t hard to,” she told him, “I know you, Remus. We’ve studied together almost every day this year. It’s not hard to match up the days you take off school for various reasons to the lunar calendar. It wasn’t hard to tell. I’ve known that you’re a werewolf for the last few months.”

“And yet you waited to say something,” he looked at her, confused. “Instead of confronting me right away.”

“You’re my friend!” she protested, “I wanted to make sure you would be comfortable enough with our friendship before I talked to you.”

“So why now?” he asked her, “What changed?”

“I couldn’t keep it in anymore,” she admitted, “It hurts to see you suffer, month after month, trying to hide it from everyone, while still suffering from the effects of the moon. And I wanted you to know that I still cared about you, regardless of that. That you’re still my friend.”

“How can you say that?” he asked her, voice breaking, “I’m a monster, Hermione. Every month, I turn into a beast. How can you say that it doesn’t matter, when it so clearly does? When it matters? When if people knew the truth, they would try to lock me up.”

“Because I know you,” she said, placing a hand on his, “And I know that are an amazing person. Because I’ve seen you be kind to everyone and try and help people. Because you are my friend, and I know you aren’t capable of willingly hurting people. Because the wolf might be a part of you, but it is not the only thing that defines you. You define you, Remus. And for a few nights a month you are given this burden, but it doesn’t mean you are any less you.”

He looked at her in wonder, “Every now and then I forget that you are related to James, but then you go and do something so thoughtful and love filled, and I’m reminded of how alike the two of you really are.”

“How did James tell you?” she asked, curiously.

He shook his head, “They all but confronted me on one of my lies for my absence, told me they knew and to drop the act, and then said they didn’t care. Then James said I was still a better dorm mate than Sirius, and Sirius got offended, and it turned into a typical day in our dorm.”

She laughed, “Sounds about right.”

“Thank you,” he told her softly. “It means a lot to me that you can care about me, your brother’s friend, enough to insist that such a thing doesn’t matter.”

“I meant it, though,” she furrowed her brows, “Remus, you were one of my first friends here. You’ve been nothing short of kind to me. You’re a wonderful friend and person, and I needed you to know that it doesn’t change anything that you have this condition. That you’re still my friend.”

He grinned back at her, and she felt herself grown relax. She couldn’t help him in all the ways she knew she wanted to be able to. She couldn’t exactly give him wolfsbane potion, as it didn’t exist yet. But she could offer her emotional support for the man. She could be there for him and let him know that he was loved and supported with every turn.

She isn’t all that surprised when James sits beside her in the common room later that day.

“Remus told me you talked to him,” James said softly, not wanting anyone to hear, “And that you know about, well you know.”

“I did,” she admitted. “I didn’t mean to confront him about it, Jamie. But I wanted him to know that he wasn’t as alone as he thought. That he had people who cared about him and loved him regardless of his condition. That it doesn’t matter to me!”

“You were always far too clever for your own good,” he grinned at you. “It meant a lot to him, you know? I know he doesn’t always believe us when we tell him that we don’t care about his condition, so it’s nice for it to come from a different source every once in a while.

“He deserves to know,” she said softly, “He’s an amazing friend. And he’s been nothing but kind to me since school started. He deserves to have some kindness redirected towards him every now and then. He deserves to know how much the people in his life care about him.”

“I know,” James told her. “You do too, you know?  You love so fully and care about people in your life. Even the people who have been nothing but horrid to you, you still fight to make sure that they know that they are important. I can’t say I understand why you want to be friends with Snape, but I am proud that you tried. And if he thinks he doesn’t want you in his life, then you can do so much better than him.”

She hugged him tightly. She could hardly tell him the true reason why she had been fighting so hard to befriend Snape. But she loved her brother for caring about her and trying to protect her, no matter what.

“I probably should have tried to be less confrontational with Remus,” she admitted, “But I didn’t know how else to do it. It was really the only way I could think of.”

“I’m proud of you,” he told her, “Remus wouldn’t have told you regardless, and it was the best way to go about it. Besides, when we told him, Peter blabbered on for an hour about how good a friend Remus was, so at least there’s that.”

She laughed as she leaned into her brother, and he told her more stories from that day. It was nice, just relaxing for once, and enjoying the moment.

She was well on her way to lunch when she found Snape standing outside her classroom. She wasn’t all that sure if she should say something, given the terse terms the two of them had been on for the last little bit.

She blamed herself for it, in all honesty. She threw herself into trying to befriend Snape, and was so hell-bent on trying to change his future, amongst others, that she ignored the signs that he so clearly disliked her, only serving for him to be even more alienated towards her. And after the confrontation, she had decided to give him some time to cool off. After all, she had all but gotten him to see that her brother didn’t have some sort of secret vendetta against him. And that it was all the work of a horrible misunderstanding.

But that had been months ago, and she had barely exchanged a word with him since then. And with the year nearly over, she was giving up hope that he would ever seek her out to try and be friends once more. She was giving up hope that he would ever want to be her friend.

And maybe she could work around it. She could get Draco to befriend him, where she had failed, for Draco had no pre-existing feud with Snape. Sirius was his cousin, but it was a distant enough of a relationship that maybe Snape would accept his friendship over hers.

It was why she made eye contact to acknowledge Snape’s presence, but didn’t say a word.

“Can I talk to you, Potter?” he asked her, somewhat unsure of himself.

Mary gave her a look, and she nodded at her friend that it was fine, “I’ll see you in the Great Hall,” she told her friend.

She walked over to where Snape was standing, and he looked uncomfortable.

“Look, I owe you an apology,” he started, and she looked up at him in surprise. “I was wrong about you. I was sure that you had some sort of agenda towards befriending Lily and I, that I didn’t even give you a chance as a friend. And I was somewhat of an arse to you.”

“You were,” she told him, “I was just trying to be friends with you. And instead you pushed me away at every turn.”

“I admit, I’m not the best at trying to make friends with others,” he said. “Lily is the only person I’ve ever truly considered to be a friend.”

“Even your housemates?” she raised a brow. Because in the coming years he would choose those same housemates over Lily and their friendship.

“I am acquainted with them out of being in a similar position. However, Lily is the only one I consider to be a friend. And as such, I was absolutely horrid to you for no real reason other than my distaste for your brother and his friends. Even though you had done nothing wrong. And it is for that, I must offer my sincere apology.”

“I accept,” she said, and he looked up at her in surprise. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m still rather annoyed with you for the things you’ve done and said. And given the fact that you haven’t said a word to me in months. You were absolutely horrid to me, and I did nothing but accepted it all because I wanted to be your friend. Even when I did nothing to deserve your ire and your foul words. But I can understand why you might have felt that way. And more importantly, I can accept that you have changed your feelings in regard to me and that you wish for us to move forward from here on out.”

“Just like that?” he asked her, somewhat skeptically. “Just like that you can accept my apology without holding it over me, demanding stuff in return.”

“Gryffindor,” she shrugged. “I don’t want anything from you in return. Well, if you wanted to be friends, or at least start fresh, then I would quite like that. However no, I don’t need you to do some sort of grand gesture or give me some sort of compensation to make amends.”

“I’d like that,” he said softly, “To try and be friends. Lily’s been nagging me for months to try and make more, and out of all the idiots at this school, I think I’d find your presence the most tolerable. After all, you are somewhat intelligent.”

She laughed, “Well then, let’s be friends.”

“I suppose I’ll see you in the library sooner rather than later, Potter,” he nodded at her.

“Hermione,” she insisted. “If we are to be friends, then I insist you call me Hermione.”

He shook his head at her, but she could see a hint of a smile forming over his face to show that he wasn’t all that opposed to the idea.

She had hardly saved Snape from his fate. There was still a long way to go to make sure that he didn’t fall into the wrong crowd. But she had stopped the pranks from her brother before it escalated to a point they couldn’t return from and shown him that he did have friends. And hopefully it was a start.

It’s June before she knew it and Hermione is amazed at how quickly her first year back in the past has flown by. If she were completely honest, she’d admit she wasn’t all that happy with the progress they were making. The horcruxes remained untouched, still wherever they were, and Voldemort remained in the shadows slowly culminating power.

She knew it wasn’t entirely fair to blame their progress on that, per say. Not when shy of the diadem, all the other horcruxes remained outside the castle walls. Especially when items such as the locket, the cup, and the diary, had yet to be placed with the Death Eaters who would one day hold them. And even when they got the diadem, they could hardly destroy them. Not when last time Voldemort became aware of what they were doing. No, it would be better to wait to destroy them all at once, before Voldemort could stop them. Not to mention, they still had no way of destroying the horcruxes as of yet. And if she could help it, she’d rather avoid going down to the Chamber of Secrets and facing the basilisk. Of course, she was well aware that it was a likely course of action that they may have to take. But she was well within her rights of not wanting to do so at all.

And other than the one Death Eater attack, it was hardly as if Voldemort was out in the open. She had heard whispers of his recruitment, from Slughorn’s parties where other purebloods tried to gage where she stood in regard to blood purity to see if she would be an ally or an enemy on the other side of the battle field. Because it would matter in the years to come. She would either be fighting them or fighting against them. Because she knew at one point it would be a matter of who lived and who died, even though it pained her.

She knew there were Slytherins that she hadn’t reached out to yet. That not all of them would join Voldemort’s ranks willingly. That some of them joined out of coercion and others joined out of persecution from Dumbledore and the other houses. Because there was no place for Slytherins on the “Light” side.

She only hoped that by Draco and the Blacks not joining the Dark side, if it were to successfully happen, that it would show the Slytherins that they had other options, that they didn’t need to fight for things they didn’t believe in. That her friendship to the Blacks could ultimately lead to a greater alliance between houses. But it would take time. Her own brother still barely trusted Slytherins himself. He would need to come around first, before anyone else accepted it. Because if the Marauders could openly be friends with Slytherins, then why couldn’t the rest of them? But first James would need to see that they weren’t all bad. And who better to show him that than the one Slytherin she knew would agree with her; Draco.

It was why she had invited him over the summer, hoping that it would give him and her family some time to bond. Hell, she knew her brother had already asked for permission to invite his friends over for the summer and she had the same. And while she intended on inviting others as well, Draco was imperative, given the fact that it would give them some time to formulate the next steps of their plan. Certain alliances had been secured, and now they needed to figure out how to unite their Houses.

And as Sirius would most likely be invited, she had asked Draco to extend an invitation to Regulus as well. Especially given still strained relationship between the Black brothers, then maybe it would be good for the two of them to spend some time together, outside of school and home constraints. To just be friends without all the excess stuff on top. To be family.

She had no idea yet, if he would choose to accept the invitation, but she hoped he will. While the two of them had studied together from time to time, they were hardly close. And it would be good for the two of them to be better acquainted in the future. And while she was sure just having Draco and Sirius in his life would be enough to stop him from turning to a life of being a Death Eater, she still thought it would be better than for him to have friends who were as obsessed with blood purity as his mother was.

And if all went well, then at the end of the summer, she and Draco could appear to be “proper” friends, and not just study acquaintances as they currently were in the eyes of their classmates. At least this way it would give them a better chance to spend time together without it raising suspicion as to why the two of them were hanging out together all the time while they plotted their next move and made note of the progress they’ve made. It was hardly as if they were going into things blind. With every step, they mapped out all the possible outcomes using arithmancy, to try and find out which the best approach to take was. And in the future as things got more serious, it would be something they would need to do more and more.

And perhaps several open friendships between Gryffindors and Slytherins would be good for the school and for house unity, to show that people in different houses, especially rival houses, could be friends without it being considered taboo. Perhaps it would even help set some sort of standard.

Sirius looked over to where his brother was sitting at the Slytherin table filled with nothing but pain and with sadness. It had been months since he’d talked to his brother, exchanging a few words over Christmas but nothing more. And he hated that he’d grown so apart from his little brother, given how close the two of them had been as kids. It certainly hurt to know that the two of them didn’t talk anymore and that nothing he was able to do would help the two of them reconcile. But at the same time, he had hardly tried over the last year to be a friend to. His brother. He had hardly put himself out there to try having a relationship with him.

And it hurt, knowing that James and Hermione were so close as siblings. He knew that James had meant it when he said that he wouldn’t have cared which house Hermione had been placed in, that he would have tried to ensure that she was happy no matter what. That he wouldn’t have cut her off for such a thing.

But it was hardly the case for him and Regulus. It was him who went and got himself sorted into a different house. It was him who had gone against everything his parents had stood for, and thrown away all the values that had been ingrained into his head as a kid. Was it not his responsibility to try and make amends with his brother? Why did everyone have to prove to him that they were not as bad as they thought?

Even Draco, his cousin, had to all but force his way back into Sirius’ life. The same cousin who had convinced Andromeda to convince the head of the house to let her marry a muggleborn. Whereas Sirius’ first instinct would have been to run away and leave his family behind, Draco’s was to make sure that his family stayed together.

 Why did he care so much about it? Narcissa was just going to marry some pureblood, and from what he had heard, it was likely they would try and arrange the marriage to Lucius Malfoy to try and make up for the fact that Andromeda was no long on the table.

And Bellatrix was certifiably insane. Merlin knew that even as a child she had always been short of a few marbles, but as she grew older, she made it very clear just what she thought of everyone else whom she deemed to be beneath her.

And Regulus, well Sirius was hardly sure where his little brother stood. After all, Andromeda was Slytherin too, and she turned out alright.

He sighed, running his hands through his hair, wracked with guilt. How had he let it be an entire year since he had talked to his brother and tried to make sure that the two of them could remain friends despite differences of houses?

Was it not his responsibility to at least try and reach out to his brother? And if Regulus did truly believe in his mother’s views, then at least he had tried to make amends. At least he had tried to see if they could still maintain some sort of friendship all things considered.

He was tired of the two of them not talking any longer. He was done with it. He wanted his brother back, and he wanted to make amends.

Chapter Text

Sirius watched his brother sitting at the Slytherin table, feeling nervous as he tried to take deep breaths. The meal was nearly over, and he knew it was time to finally reach out to him, before the year was over. Before both of them returned home and had their mother trying to force her messed up ways on them. It was time for him to talk to Regulus.

So when Regulus left the Slytherin table after his meal, he found himself standing as well.

“Where are you off to?” James asked him curiously.

“There’s something I need to take care of,” Sirius said, not giving James a chance to ask questions as he all but bolted out the of Great Hall following after his little brother.

“Regulus!” he called out as soon as he was out of the Hall, and he saw Regulus freeze in his tracks, without turning around.

He ran to catch up to his brother, and Regulus looked at him with a blank face.

“I’m sorry, are you talking to me now?” Regulus asked, and Sirius felt himself wince.

“I deserved that,” he admitted out loud. “Do you think we could talk, Reg?”

“Why?” Regulus asked him cautiously. “You’ve barely said three words to me all year, including at Christmas. And now you want to talk as if you haven’t been ignoring me all year? Why do you want to talk to me now?”

“Because I missed you,” Sirius admitted, “Because I hate not talking to my brother, given how close we once were. I hate that we go out of our ways to ignore each other, when at one point we refused to even be in a different room from the other. I hate that we are strangers when we are brothers.”

“You ignored me,” Regulus reminded him. “I never wanted this, but you made it abundantly clear that you wanted no part of knowing me. Because I was a Slytherin, and the symbol of everything you hated. Because of the fact that I followed the family legacy where you chose to run away from it. If we are strangers, it is because of the fact that you wanted nothing to do with me. So don’t you dare blame that fact on me, Sirius.”

“You’re right,” Sirius told him. “I avoided you. I ignored you. And I pretended you didn’t exist. Because it was easier than facing you. It was easier than seeing your disappointment when you looked at me, for failing my family and for failing to be a proper Heir to our house. I could take it from Mother and Father, but I couldn’t take it from you. So I chose to ignore you, because it was easier than facing you. And I’m sorry.”

“You talked to Draco,” Regulus reminded him, “He is just as much a Slytherin as I am, and yet you weren’t worried about disappointing him. And you and Andromeda are tighter than ever. It’s just me that you want nothing to do with. It’s just me you are fine throwing away a friendship with. Your own brother. But it’s okay, because I made it through this year anyways. Even if my own family wanted nothing to do with me.”

“I’m sorry,” Sirius offered, unsure of what to say. Because Regulus was completely right in his complaints and his anger. It had been him who had messed up. “I was scared, but it was wrong of me. I should have at least tried to have talked to. To have trusted that you were capable of forming your own thoughts. And then let you decided you wanted nothing to do with me before I decided to cut off all contact with you. I shouldn’t have ignored you and pretending you didn’t exist. And I can’t apologise enough for it.”

“It hurts the most that you didn’t trust me, Sirius,” Regulus’ voice broke. I never cared that you were a Gryffindor. Merlin knows you are more brash than calculative. I cared more about the fact that you were happy to replace me with James Potter and with Draco, than acknowledge your own family. That you didn’t even give me a chance to prove to you that I didn’t care about your house. That you are my older brother, and I love you regardless of what house you are in. but you never gave me a chance to prove that to you. And that it what hurts me the most.”

“I’m sorry,” Sirius offered, “Please give me a second chance, Reg. Let me try to make it up to you, to try and be your brother, and to let us try and have a true familial relationship. This last year has been so hard for me, and I never want to go another day without talking to you. I never want to try and hide the fact that I miss having you in my life.”

Regulus looked up at him, contemplation filling his face, and Sirius knew he was trying to decide if it was worth the two of them making amends or if he’d rather have no part of being in Sirius’ life from here on out.

And he couldn’t breathe as he waited for his brother to say something. For if Regulus forgave him, then they could go back to how things were before school. They could go back to joking around and talking, and just plain being family. But if Regulus decided he didn’t want to be in his life, then it would forever set the way things would be for the two of them. That they would no longer consider themselves family, and that they would go back to ignoring each other at each turn. And in all honesty, he wasn’t sure he could survive being at home with his parents if Regulus decided that he wanted no part in having a relationship with him.

“Okay,” Regulus said softly, “I forgive you, Siri. But I don’t want you to ever do anything like this again. It bloody hurt to see you talking to everyone else and ignoring me. And if you ever do this again, because you think that I won’t want to be your friend, then I’m going to hex you. You’re my brother, and if you truly mean that you want to act like family, then just talk to me instead of ignoring me.”

He pulled his brother into a hug, and he felt Regulus squirm around him. But he didn’t care. He missed having his brother in his life, and he would be damned if he ever considered anything different.

It’s half way through their last month of school when Hermione noticed that Remus seemed especially quiet in the library, and she couldn’t help but worry as to if everything with her friend was fine.

“Remus?” she asked him softly, and he looked up at her, slightly startled.

“Sorry, were you saying something?” he asked her, looking unsure of himself.

“I just wanted to know if you could better explain this transfiguration property to me,” she said, before brushing it off, “But it doesn’t matter all that much. Are you okay? You’ve been awfully quiet today.”

He seemed a bit pensive before he sighed.

“I am not looking forward to going home at the end of the term,” he admitted. “My father, well, he’s not all that accepting of my condition.”

“What do you mean?” she asked him carefully.

“I never told you how it happened to me, did I?” he murmured. “My father is well known in the wizarding world for being an expert on dark creatures. And shortly before my fifth birthday, a werewolf by the name of Fenrir Greyback was caught by the Ministry of Magic for being around a pack of werewolves who killed two muggle children. Greyback insisted he was innocent and a muggle, and the council shy of my father believed him. And when the council tried to dispel him, he claimed that werewolves were nothing but ‘soulless, evil, deserving nothing but death’,” Remus laughed bitterly.

“When Fenrir was released, he wanted retaliation for my father’s words. So one night, he broke into my bedroom window and bit me on a full moon, before my father can stop him. Imagine the horror, that the same wolf he had called soulless had turned his only child into one of those same foul monsters.”

She reached out to hold Remus’ hand, and he smiled gratefully at her.

“My parents were heartbroken. My father tried everything to treat me, but there is no cure for lycanthropy. And eventually, my father took to locking me up at every full moon, chaining me in the cellar to protect him and my mother from me,” he swallowed hardly. “Because I was a danger to them both. It breaks my mother’s heart each month, to have to do so to me. And my father, he blames himself that I’m a monster now. He can hardly stand to look at me most days. He didn’t want me to go to school, but Professor Dumbledore insisted that both I and the other students would be perfectly safe.”

“I’m so sorry, Remus,” she said softly, “That sounds tough, to have to suffer by yourself each month.”

“It’s been a lot better recently,” he smiled at her gratefully. “To have friends such as the boys and you who accept me regardless of my affliction. And it means the world to me to have your support. Especially given that for as long as I can remember, I’ve felt like I need to be ashamed of myself.”

“You don’t need to be,” she said hotly, “You don’t need to be ashamed of yourself. You were five. Most adults couldn’t even take on a werewolf on the full moon. Let alone a child. You did nothing wrong, Remus. And don’t let anyone ever let you feel otherwise. You’re a wonderful person, and you don’t deserve that!”

He smiled warmly.

“For what it’s worth, I know James invited you over for the summer, and I think you should come. It would do you some good to be around your friends.”

He looked at her shocked, “I hardly expect your parents would be all that thrilled if they found out.”

She rolled her eyes, “My parents would be the first to welcome you into our home if they knew. There’s a reason James and I both accepted you as quickly as we did. They taught us to see beyond such things and look at the person itself. My parents already love you, and I doubt finding out about your condition would change a thing. If anything, my mother might give you extra dessert.”

“I’d have to talk to my parents,” he told her cautiously, “My father won’t be pleased about me staying in good company given my affliction. Especially for full moons. He’ll want me to come home and be chained up where I can’t hurt anyone.”

She winced at that, “I hate that you have to be alone for each full moon. You don’t deserve that.”

“What other choice do I have?” he asked her softly, “Werewolves are deadly to humans. There’s no way I could be alone with anyone. If I were to as much as scratch someone, then their life as they know it is over too.”

“Your life is not over!” she insisted. “Maybe things now are bad for werewolves but they don’t need to always be. Maybe in the future things will be better. That you won’t have to hide your condition out of fear of persecution. Maybe in the future you could live a normal life without having to go through transformations as you do now, each month.”

He smiled at her wryly, and she knew he didn’t believe her that such things would ever come to pass. And she vowed there and then that she would do everything in her power to make sure her friend was happy and had a chance to live a normal life.

Hermione sat with Lily and Severus in the library, as they prepared for their final set of exams. Not that any of them needed to. She was rather sure any of them could have written their final exams in the last few months and still have walked out with flying colours. But they studied anyways.

In a lot of ways Lily’s studious nature reminded her a lot of herself in her past life. They were hardly the same person given their other traits, but in regard to studiousness, they both had a need to pursue knowledge and to find out everything there was to on any subject. She could see why in her past life she had been compared so heavily to Lily Potter, nee Evans.

She wondered what it would have been like, in her past life, if Lily and James had lived. She would like to think that she and Harry still would have been friends. That their bond wasn’t dependent on the personality he had due to being an orphaned war hero as a child. And she wondered, for the briefest of moments what it would have been like to have known Lily Potter, another muggleborn who strived to be the best, who studied and excelled regardless of what others thought about her. Who would have been a true inspiration to Hermione Granger as a child.

The next best thing was getting to know Lily as a child. As a study partner, and a friend. As getting to know her as a peer, and not an older mentor, because it meant that the two of them could truly be friends.

The Potters were instrumental in the first war, even before the Prophecy came into play. They were renowned members of society and members of the Order of the Phoenix, fighting Death Eaters and trying to bring justice back into the Wizarding World. And as her brother and her future sister-in-law, she knew the two of them would be closely tied to her and her own fight with Voldemort. That in coming years it would be impossible for her to hide the fact that she was openly fighting against Voldemort. And how would she be able to? She and Draco would be trying to openly bring down the darkest wizarding in history. She knew Lily would be fighting alongside her, and just knowing the witch through their interactions, she felt grateful to have such a witch by her side.

“You look lost in thought,” Lily said, breaking her out of her stupor. “Is everything alright, Hermione?”

“Just excited to be done the term,” she said, grinning brightly at the two of them. Because how could she mention that she was terrified of the war that would be on their doorsteps in the coming years? How could she tell that that if she didn’t change the future, they and their loved ones would be dead in the years to come?

Severus exchanged a look with Lily, and she wondered if there was something she did not know.

“You won’t miss school?” Lily asked her, “I thought you enjoyed being in the library more than anywhere else.”

“I do,” she said, “But I also miss home, and my family. Besides my parents have a rather extensive library. It’s not as big as Hogwarts, obviously, but it is nice. And a new school year means new materials to learn.”

Lily laughed fondly, “It must be nice having a family who are magical as well. I love my parents to death, but half the time when I tell them about school they think I’m speaking in a foreign language. ‘Mum I turned a rat into a cup today’, ‘That’s nice, Dear, but try to avoid drinking out of it. That can’t be sanitary.’”

She laughed at that, “It is rather nice. But you get to be a part of a different world as well. I imagine I would stick out like a sore thumb if I tried to go to the muggle world,” she said wistfully. Because Hermione Potter knew nothing about the muggle world, regardless of what Hermione Granger knew.

“With the right clothes, I imagine you’d do just fine,” Lily assured her. “You just need the right guide.”

“Will you take me one day?” she asked her friend eagerly. And she could see Severus shake his head, even though he had a hint of a smile on his face.

“Sure,” Lily grinned back at her.

“You should come over this summer too,” Hermione said, as she invited them both over. “I’d love to have you both visit for a while, so it’ll be less boring of a summer.”

“Would your parents be fine with that?” Lily asked her, curiously. “They’ve never met us.”

“And this will give them a chance to be able to do so,” Hermione smiled. “Besides they already given James and I permission to invite over some friends over the break, and I want the two of you to visit.”

“So your brother and his hooligan friends will be there?” Severus asked, without as much hatred that was in his voice in the past when talking about them.

“Well it is James’ house as well,” Hermione rolled her eyes, “So he will indeed be there. As well as Remus and the boys.”

“And I suppose I’d be the only Slytherin there,” Severus said with a grunt.

“Well no,” Hermione said slowly, “I also invited Draco.”

“Black?” Lily asked in surprise.

“We are somewhat of friends,” Hermione told them both, “We’ve been study partners all term, and I thought it would be nice to invite him, given that his cousin would be there as well. And since I invited Draco and James invited Sirius, I extended an invite to Regulus as well. He’s nice enough anyways from the few times I studied with him.”

“So many Blacks in one house,” Severus murmured.

“Well I mean my mother is a Black as well. Sister to Sirius’ and Regulus’ grandfather,” Hermione rolled her eyes. “So having them over is technically like having family visit. Of course Draco and his branch of the Blacks is far more distantly related, with Mum’s father, and Draco’s great-grandfather being brothers, but that’s besides the point.”

“I didn’t know you were related to the Blacks,” Lily said interestedly.

“Most families are distantly related if you look back far enough,” Hermione said shrugging. “That’s one of the problems with all the intermarrying through the years. Even through marrying muggleborns and half-bloods, given the fact that they’re just as descended from the same families. Of course, it definitely does help with the problem of the direct intermarrying and families producing more and more squibs.”

Lily looked pensive at that, and Hermione couldn’t help but wonder if Lily knew a lot about Muggleborn heritage and how they came to be. She wouldn’t be completely surprised if Lily had no idea of how muggleborns came to be, especially given that half the wizarding world was ignorant to such a thing. But Lily’s inquisitive nature could have meant that she looked into such details on her own.

She could sense the change in direction, and she tried to steer it back on course, “But back to the original question. Will the two of you come over during the summer to visit? Please say yes.”

“I’d have to talk to my parents,” Lily said carefully, “And I’m sure they wouldn’t be happy with me leaving for the entire summer, given that I was gone for the full school year. But I don’t see them being all that unhappy with me staying with you for a few days.”

She looked over at Severus expectantly, “I suppose if my mother agrees, it would be fine for me to stay with you for a few days.” He looked slightly uncomfortable, and she couldn’t help but wonder if there was something about his home life that made him uncomfortable. She knew for a fact that he was a half-blood, his mother Eileen Prince, who married a muggle. But that was the extent of what she knew about him. In future years due to his mother’s name he would go by the Half-blood Prince, denouncing his father by doing so, just as Voldemort crafted himself a new name. She wondered how telling it was that he did so. But she could hardly pry, not when she wasn’t supposed to know half the things she did about him

“Perfect,” she grinned at the two of them. “I’ll owl you with more details later as to when would be the best time to visit based on your availabilities as well. I’m glad you both want to come.”

Lily gave her a soft smile, and Severus looked contemplative at that, and she wanted to ask him about it. But she supposed that it was good enough for now that the two of them had left the school year as somewhat of friends. It was far more than they had started off as, after all.

If Hermione said she was expecting the end of the school year to end smoothly, then she would have been lying to herself.

Of course the year wouldn’t just end simply, not without the need for something big and dramatic to happen. That would have been too easy. It would have been her asking for far too much.

It was how she found herself, sitting at the Gryffindor house table, with a giant lion mane on her head, instead of her hair. It was how she and the rest of their classmates found themselves as Dumbledore announced that Gryffindor had won the house cup.

She supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised, not really. Not when she had noticed her brother and his friends whispering to themselves for days, sneaking around, and hiding away in their dorm for hours. Of course she had been preoccupied with examinations, and hadn’t noticed that they were clearly up to something. If she had, she might have been able to have convinced her brother to let her in on what was going on so she knew what to avoid. Instead, she had let herself get distracted, and now she and the rest of their year had giant lion manes.

She supposed she should have been grateful that her brother also had one, but she supposed that had more to do with throwing off suspicion than anything else. Because everyone already knew who was responsible, and from McGonagall angrily walking over to their table, she knew she probably wouldn’t be seeing her brother until they boarded the Hogwarts Express.

“It’s a good look on you,” Sirius said, as he took a strand of her mane, “You always were a little lioness.”

She glared back at him, “Well you look absolutely horrible as a lion,” she told him, pointedly.

“I don’t know, he has a point, Hermione,” James chimed in. “The mane really suits you. In fact, I think it looks tamer than your regular hair.”

“Says you,” Peter snickered. “Have you seen your own hair, mate? It’s a regular mess. If Hermione has messy hair, you definitely have the same.”

He wrapped his arm around her, “It’s because we’re siblings,” he said proudly, “And that we’re exactly alike.”

“I wouldn’t go with exactly,” Remus rolled his eyes, “She’s far more tolerable than you sometimes.”

James pretended to look wounded. “I went into this school year just wanting for my sister and my best mates to be my friend. Instead they betrayed me by teaming up against me.”

She laughed at that, “Jamie, you’re ridiculous,” she said, shaking her head at him.

He grinned back at her, and she couldn’t help but feel light. There was so much stress on her shoulders, and she knew she could afford to let up from time to time. She and Draco survived a school year in the past, and already times were changing. Sirius and Regulus had made up, something which never happened in the past. They had died sure that the other hated them. Andromeda was till part of the Black family and had the head of house’s permission to marry a muggleborn. Severus and her brother and his friends made up. And she and Draco were in a good beginning position to continue making allies across different houses. Things were changing already, and she just hoped that it would be enough.

Chapter Text

It was late July before her friends came over to visit for the summer. Not that she could blame them for wanting to spend some time with their families of course. Merlin knew she was grateful for the time she was able to spend with the Potters before her family came over. To have her mother give James disapproving but ultimately proud looks every time he pulled a prank. To spend night in the sitting room as they spent time together. Her father and brother engaging in a game of gobstones or wizarding chess, while she read a book and her mother worked on something or the other.

It was nice, to be able to genuinely enjoy the summer. Besides, it was hardly as if they could do anything else. She and Draco were far too young to spend the summer horcrux hunting for the ones they knew of without it raising serious suspicions. And she already had her friends coming over shortly in which she would be able to make sure her friends were all doing okay.

She was worried about Remus in particular. His letters were always so caring and thoughtful, but it often felt like he was leaving out far more than he was saying by not choosing to explain anything that was going on in the slightest. She knew the full moon was tough for him, what with him all but telling her that his father was abusive a few months ago. And she worried for him, having to spend his full moons chained to the cellar like some sort of monster.

And it broke her heart, because Remus was anything but. He was pure hearted and a kind man, and she had looked up to him in her past life. He had been a mentor to her, had taught her so much through the years. Had engaged in studious discussions with her. And in this life he was her friend. He was there for her when others weren’t. He never made fun of her decisions to study and always stood by her side.

He deserved far better than this life, and she hated that she couldn’t do anything for him, not yet. Not when the boys wouldn’t become animaguses for two more years, and it was still a few years before the Wolfsbane potion was announced to the world.

She would make sure he knew love. She would make sure all of them would. That when they stayed with her and her family they knew nothing but love and compassion.

The only one she had seen recently were the Blacks, given that she had been invited to Andromeda’s wedding. She was a friend of the boy’s and given that she was distantly related to Andromeda’s side of the family, it would have been rude not to have invited the Potters. She wasn’t exactly friends with the older Black sister, but she hoped that in time she could be. Given the fact that she had respected the other woman in the old time line, she hoped that the two of them could at least become acquaintances in this time line.

She had been proud to watch the ceremony. To see Andromeda and Ted be able to marry as both of their families stood by their sides watching proudly and happily. Her parents still weren’t all that pleased, but at least they didn’t spend the ceremony denouncing the entire thing. And she supposed that was really all she could have asked for. They were Blacks, and they were ‘Noble’. To do so would bring great shame, especially given the fact that Arcturus had already agreed to the marriage.

It had been a beautiful ceremony, with several older families there, as they watched magic join the two of them in matrimony. She had been sitting beside her brother, and sniffling slightly, unable to offer any explanation of why she was so moved and so proud of the ceremony. Especially given she had no connection to them. How did she tell her brother that the marriage never happened like this before? That they eloped. But because of her and Draco’s presence they were able to get married in a beautiful ceremony and declare their love for each other in front of everyone? How did she explain that the two of them getting married was one of the first changes that would occur in order to change the world into a place that was far more loving and accepting of all people?

Instead, she sat idly by as her brother teased her, despite wrapping an arm comfortingly around her, as to her crying at a wedding.

Sirius had danced with her right after her brother and she finished their dance together. He had been beaming brightly, and she knew he was ecstatic that his cousin was allowed to marry a muggleborn, given everything she knew about his family.

She had danced a few times with Draco, and from the smile on his face, he was more than happy to not have to have denounced his sister, and instead got to embrace her and her new family.

Regulus had nervously asked her later, given that he was still hesitant in their friendship. It hurt her to see him so wary of whether she truly wanted to be friends or if she was just putting up with him given the fact that she was friends with his brother and his cousin, and she could have just been trying to be polite. She vowed to try harder, to be closer friends with him in this coming year. To show him that people genuinely did care for him. She knew that he wasn’t all that close with other Slytherins in their year. Not like Draco who made a few alliances, despite being very clear of avoiding certain individuals.

And as someone who had gone through her first few years of schooling only being friends with two boys, one of whom often fought with her for menial reasons.

She hoped that him staying over for the summer would be enough for him to see that she truly did care for him and wanted to be his friend. Horcruxes aside and the fact that Regulus would die trying to rid the world of a monster, he truly did deserve better than his fate. Turning to the Death Eaters because his brother threw their family back in his face, wanting nothing to do with him. And so he was left with no one by his side but the Slytherins who echoed his family values back at him, and wanted to be friends. He deserved better; they all did.

It was how she found herself in the family library with Lily, Severus, Draco, and Remus, as they idly flipped through her family books.

It had been a few days since they had come over, Lily and Severus shocked at how a wizarding family lived, especially given the fact that there was magic everywhere in the house, from the way food was served to the way the chores got done in the house. It still stunned her from time to time, given that she, in a past life, was raised in the muggle world as well. Lily had so many questions, from how things worked, to why things occurred in certain ways, and Hermione grinned as she filled in her friend with all the answers to her questions.

Severus was quiet for the most part. She knew he was probably overwhelmed. For she didn’t know too much about his home life, but it wasn’t hard to deduce from his clothes and his books that he wasn’t all that well off. It didn’t matter, of course it didn’t, but she knew it probably explained why he didn’t know how to react.

Because the Potters weren’t the wealthiest wizarding family, but she knew they were far more than well off. That they had more money than other families. She had not been raised to flaunt her wealth in other’s faces, and it was why she never boasted about her wealth, like how Draco had in his earlier years as a Malfoy. It was unbecoming to do so.

“Have you read all of these books?” Lily asked her in amazement as she looked around the room.

Hermione shrugged, “A considerable amount of them?” she said grinning. “I haven’t made it through most of them, but I’ve put a solid indent into doing so.”

“It must be so nice,” Lily said in awe. “Imagine never running out of books to read! Sounds like a dream.”

“Or a nightmare,” Severus muttered, but from the slight curl of his lips, she knew he hardly meant it in a teasing way.

“I imagine your brother has never once set foot in this place,” Remus said, laughing, as he shook her head.

“We have quite a few action stories as well,” Hermione said, “James used to read them to me before I could read. He still reads them from time to time, but don’t tell him I told you that. I don’t think he would quite like it if people knew that he enjoyed things such as reading.”

Remus laughed, winking at her conspiringly, “Your secret is safe with me. Until such a time that I need to blackmail him, that is.”

She laughed back, “Fair enough, Remus. I suppose that is a valid way to reveal such a secret.”

“What was it like?” Lily asked her, “Growing up surrounded by magic and such?”

“I never really thought of it,” she said, “Probably the same as it was for you, minus the magic of course. It was always just there, always a part of me. I remember the first time I did accidental magic. I wanted a book, but my parents wanted me to sleep, so I summoned it myself and would read it. And every time my parents came into the room, they were confused why I had it and would put it away on a higher shelf each time. It wasn’t until later when they saw me summon it they realized just how I got it.”

“Your first accidental magic incident would be to summon a book,” Draco shook his head. “Bookworm.”

She stuck her tongue out at him and he laughed.

“You’re lucky,” Remus told her. “To have such supportive parents. It’s nice that your mother and father are supportive of you, and only want you to be happy. From what I’ve seen, there is no shortage of love in this house.”

Severus stiffened slightly, and Lily looked defensive.

“I’m rather lucky,” she smiled back. “I’m grateful that my parents are nothing but caring of my brother and I. They want us to be happy, but they want us to have a solid understanding of the world, without biases and without prejudices.”

“What would you know of unsupportive parents, Lupin?” Severus sneered at him, and Hermione looked over at them, wondering how to diffuse the situation, as the Slytherin looked displeased at the turn of the conversation.

“My father and I have our differences,” Remus said, keeping his voice light, despite having a displeased look on his face. Let’s just say he doesn’t approve of certain details about myself which I can’t exactly control.”

Severus’ face softened slightly, “I’m sorry. I know what it’s like to have a father who doesn’t agree with things you can’t change about yourself.”

“Or siblings,” Lily said looking down, unable to say anything else as she thought of Petunia.

“For what it’s worth, I wouldn’t change a thing about you,” Hermione said, “Any of you. You’re my friends, and I think you’re all brilliant just the way you are.”

“Way to make things sappy, Potter,” Draco teased her, and she threw a pillow at him in retaliation. The mood lightened with that, as the lot of them grinned at the sight. And soon the four of them were laughing, and all talk of abusive parents and siblings had been tossed out the window.

To say Sirius was enjoying his time at the Potter home was an understatement.

It was odd to him, so see a pureblood family such as his be filled with so much love and happiness, regardless of the fact that they were seemingly better than the rest. That they currently were also housing a muggleborn, two half-bloods, one of which being a werewolf, and a pureblood from a family with no title. Because while he loved his friends more than anything, he knew his mother would not approve if he invited them over. That his mother would force him to unfriend almost if not all of them. He was certain the only reason he was allowed at the Potters was because Euphemia was his grand-aunt, and as much as his mother disapproved of the Potters, Arcturus loved his little sister, and would be furious to find out if she disrespected her in any way or form.

Which worked out better for him anyways. It meant he didn’t need to spend hours with his family during the break while he listened to his mother drone on about just how big of a disappointment he was, and how he inevitably would let the family down when he was Lord Black. How his brother was far more suited to the role.

And while he would have glowered at Regulus a few years ago, he could see now that his brother hated it. How he shrunk under the attention and tried to pretend he wasn’t there. That he very much did not want to be brought into the conversation, knowing how hard of a position it was placing him in. Because either way someone would hate him, be it Sirius or his parents. And it was a difficult position for him to be in.

He hated it, hated that he had ignored his brother’s pain in favour of only feeling his own. Ignoring his brother because he was in pain. He hated how he failed to see it through the years. How his brother cowered away, not wanting to be used as a chip. How he couldn’t bear if anyone hated him, while Sirius would gladly throw them all to the wolves for his own happiness.

He supposed that was the difference between them, why he was a Gryffindor and his brother a Slytherin. Because Regulus cared about survival, and he cared about being what he thought was right. And it was not their difference in opinion that separated them, but their personalities and what they would do to survive.

He felt guilty, thinking about it; he should have been there for Regulus. He should have protected him, fought for him, made sure that Regulus knew that he loved him regardless of their mother’s manipulations. That nothing would be able to tear them apart. And he hoped from here on out things would be different, that he could make things better for his brother. That he could make sure his brother never felt alone from here on out.

Things were still shaky between the two of them and given the fact that he had all but ignored his brother for the better part of the last two years, he could hardly blame his brother for being wary of his attempts to reconcile. But he did mean it when he said he wanted to make things right. That he wanted his brother back in his life. Because it had broken his heart to think that because of his choices he would have to choose his heart over his family. That one day he would be able to have nothing to do with them, because they wouldn’t accept him.

He was sure Draco had everything to do with that. With Andromeda not running away from the family and getting his grandfather to agree to the marriage. To making sure he took his head out of his ass and gave Draco the chance to show that he didn’t believe in the same beliefs of their parents. Even though he shouldn’t have had to have proved himself to his older cousin. To still be friends with Regulus even though Sirius was ignoring him and seemingly wanted nothing to do with him.

He watched, as his brother and cousin played Quidditch on the field with him, and the boys. Watched as Regulus laughed zooming around on his broom as he chased after the snitch, while Sirius was busy as Chaser. He watched as James clapped his brother on the back as Regulus caught the snitch, beaming brightly at his brother for winning his team the game.

For Regulus had been so wary of James in the first few days of their visit, unsure of what his friend thought of him. For he was only invited out of pity, Regulus claimed, and not because he was friends with either Potter, as he and Draco were. And James had been nothing but friendly with him, making sure he didn’t feel alone and that he had friends. And he did everything a Potter would do; smother someone with their friendship and compassion.

He had admired his friend for doing so, even when he had first met James. For the boy was nothing shy of caring and never wanted anyone he cared about to feel like an outsider. And he knew it wasn’t James just trying to be polite, despite Regulus’ hesitance to believe any differently. He truly wanted to be the boy’s friend, to make him feel welcome, just as Sirius had done for Hermione.

And why wouldn’t he? Hermione, despite being far more studious than her brother was nothing short of being just as great a friend as her brother was. She was brilliant, in her own right, and being her friend was something he enjoyed. And he knew for that same reason James didn’t mind being friends with Regulus, because he wouldn’t have tried if he truly didn’t want to.

James was still slightly cool to the rest of Hermione’s friends, given that half of them were Slytherins, but he could tell from his friend’s demeanour that he was trying. Snape and them hardly had the best history, but he knew James was trying to put it aside for Hermione’s sake. And he knew that there was nothing James wouldn’t do for his sister, just as Sirius would for his brother and cousins.

Somehow, things had changed in the last year. And Peter had no idea how it was that they had gotten to this place where somehow his friends were now friends with other Slytherins and were no longer doing half the things that they did in the past.

Somehow, they had gone from doing things with just the four of them, to pranking Slytherins every other day, and pulling mass pranks to making sure Hermione Potter was happy. To making sure she didn’t feel alone and that she still had friends. They had gone from having fun as friends, brothers, to babysitting this girl who had started school a year ago.

And now Remus spent more and more time in the library, studying with this girl, making sure to tutor her since she was so brilliant, rivalling those in upper years in her knowledge. Because that was far more preferable to Remus than to spend time with them as they did things they did once in the past.

James had gone from being making fun of those below them to becoming some sort of bloody saint. To making sure his sister was always happy and that she never felt alone. And he spent most of his evenings with her when she wasn’t in the library, talking to her and seeing how she was doing, instead of slacking off with his friends like he once did. He went from being fun to becoming some sort of protective parent to the girl who somehow managed to change everything.

Even Sirius had changed. From him denouncing his family at every given opportunity and declaring the boys his new family, he fully embraced his cousin with open arms, welcoming him as family. And later he did the same for his brother, proclaiming them both to be his family and that he wanted them in his life, despite everything that had happened. Despite the fact that he had hated them so much before. He said he wanted to be their friend, their family. And he talked about how proud he was of them. And more than anything, he embraced Hermione with open arms, as if she was some sort of little sister to him as well. Like he genuinely cared about even though she was nothing more than the annoying brat of a sibling that followed James around brightly.

Now she was somehow someone they all spoke of with such reverence and happiness. Now she was a name that was uttered by James fondly as he recounted things that she had done over the summer; how she had hexed him for trying to borrow things from her room, but then feigned innocence as they weren’t allowed to do magic outside of school. How Sirius spoke fondly of how she and Draco being friends would be something that rivalled his own friendship with James. How Blacks and Potters together were a force to be reckoned with, and how he pitied anyone who stood on the other side of their wand. How Remus went on and on about her knowledge and how advanced she was. How he could teach her any concept, and within minutes she could pick it up. That she could probably be moved up a few years if she truly wanted to, but how she was more than happy with where she was, claiming that she didn’t care for the attention.

Because she was some sort of bloody saint. He didn’t see what was so great about her. So what, she was smart, and cared about people. She still wasn’t anything all that special.

And somehow, they had befriended so many Slytherins. Slytherins who they hexed for the past two years for being evil, were now somehow best friends. And why? Because Hermione Bloody Potter wanted them to be her friends. Of course she did. Why wouldn’t she want to be friends with Slytherins? And James had ended their fun with Snape because Hermione was getting hurt by it. Why should they have to compromise their ideals and their fun for some girl? For some girl who had come and managed to change everything in the last year.

 Because what place was there for him now? Hermione had made an effort to be friends with everyone, and yet she was distant with him. Too good to be his friend, probably. Too smart, too social, and too good for him. She had no problem twisting everything around for her own benefit, to shake up the way the Marauders worked, but somehow there was no place for him in this world.

And he knew she tried from time to time, tried to make him feel involved, tried to make sure he didn’t feel alone. But he didn’t need her pity.

He wanted things to go back to how they were before. When he, James, Sirius, and Remus were friends, when they were brothers, and the rest of them were not involved in the picture. When Hermione Potter didn’t come and try to make sure they were all friends with everyone. He didn’t want more friends. He wanted things to stay the way they were. He wanted Hermione Potter to find her own bloody friends and leave his out of whatever scheme she had.

He wanted things to go back to the way they were before. When Hermione Potter was nothing more than a name that came out of James’ mouth spoken fondly of but with no real impact on the way things occurred between them. When she was a construct, and nothing more. Because ever since she and Draco Black had showed up at school, things had started changing, and he wasn’t all that sure that it was for the better.

Chapter Text

Draco grinned brightly to himself as he stared down at the letter from Andromeda. In all honesty, it was something he had forgotten would happen. Hell, it wasn’t as if he had known his aunt well enough the first time around to have known to have been looking out for such a thing, even if he should have expected it to be coming.

It had been a week or so since school had started up again, and he was rather glad to be back. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy his summer, because he did find it slightly relaxing to have two months off from trying to force people to be friends once more.

Sirius and Regulus’ relationship had been doing better; it was still rough at times between them, and he knew it would be a while before things returned to how they once had been. However it was getting better, and he knew that soon the brother’s relationship would be stronger than it had ever been in the old time line.

And he had truly enjoyed his time at the Potters’. It was no surprise why Sirius had chosen their family to run off to in the past, as the Potters were nothing but welcoming. Even if he was barely related to Euphemia, other than a distant relation, she made him feel like family.

Even Severus, his once godfather, who he barely had a relationship with in the last year, now talked to him regularly. And it was nice having the older man back in his life. He had been there for Draco often while growing up, letting him come to his potions lab, and teaching him things even before he had started his first year. He didn’t realize how much he would miss that bond until it was gone.

“What’s got you in a good mood?” Hermione asked, as she closed her book when he sat down beside her.

He wasn’t sure what the two of them were, if he were honest. They were acquaintances, partners throwing into a mission that was far too large for the two of them. Friends out of necessity. Friends because it was more important for them to be civil than what either of them wanted. And it wasn’t that he minded such a friendship. But they had so much history between the two of them. Even if half of it was adolescent ignorance.

“Andromeda sent me a letter,” he grinned, “She’s pregnant.”

She looked pensive at that, “I was curious about that,” she admitted to him. “Nymphadora Tonks is supposed to be born at the end of the year. And I was wondering if we somehow had impacted that by getting them to talk to your grandfather and pushing their elopement date.”

He frowned, “Why would that have any impact on when Nymphadora is born?”

She gave him a look, “They were married in June, Draco. And she’s born in December. That’s hardly nine months right there. So if she is to be born on the same date, unless she’s a premature baby, it means your sister was pregnant before they got married this time around.”

He stopped looking up at her, “I never considered that,” he frowned, “But at the same time, I hardly knew her birthday either.”

“Would it make that big of a difference?” she asked him curiously. “If your sister was pregnant before they were married? Would your family care about that? Especially given the fact that in older societies, they tended to be displeased about such things, and it was enough for rumours that could destroy families and nobility. How would that impact the Ancient and Noble house of Black?”

He rolled her eyes, “Believe it or not, Pureblood society is not that backwards anymore. We don’t care about such things. They will be married with Nymphadora is born, and that will be all that matters. Magical children are well revered in the Wizarding world. Nymphadora will be celebrated as the first child of the next generation. And given that she will have metamorphmagus abilities, she will be all the more celebrated. If anything, it will show the importance of not intermarrying and allowing new blood into the family.”

“Good,” Hermione said softly, “Nymphadora had a hard life the first time around, even if she never would have said so. Her mother’s family hated her, and she was taunted mercilessly for being different. She married a werewolf, which I still support mind you, and she was killed by her aunt for being everything Bellatrix hated; a half-blood Black married to a half-breed. And while she stuck by her choices, if she can grow up loved by the world and not hated, it’s enough.”

“She will be,” Draco assured her. “She may not be able to take up the mantle of Heir to the house, given the fact that Sirius will most likely hold that her entire life, but she will be given the proper love and status she deserves. She will be loved by her aunt Narcissa and by her Uncles. I can’t say Bellatrix will care for her any more this time around, but we will give her all our love where she fails to.”

She smiled softly at him, “If we’ve even changed one life for the better, then we’ve succeeded in our mission.”

“We won’t just change one,” he told her firmly, “We’re going to save them all. We’re going to make it so they all have the lives they deserve, good or bad.”

“Do you think Andromeda would be open to accepting different name opinions?” Hermione asked, trying to lighten the mood. Nymphadora is ghastly, and Merlin knows she hated it the first time around. And if we are to better her life, perhaps we can start with remedying such a traumatic thing.”

He laughed at that, “I can make suggestions, but somehow, I think that will be one of the things we won’t be able to change, regardless of how persuasive we try to be. I’m pretty sure she’s committed to that name, and nothing we say will make a difference.”

She grinned, “Well, we can’t save them all, I suppose.”

He nodded solemnly, allowing the words which could have a more significant meaning, simply brush over him.

Bellatrix stared out of the window of her family house, wondering where everything had gone wrong. How died her family throw away all the values they held dear for the past year, changing everything she knew and believed to be true?

It didn’t make any sense to her, none of it did. She had been told her entire life that blood mattered, and of course it did. She had seen the pathetic mudbloods at school, so confused, not even knowing the right side of their wand. Hell, she was surprised none of them accidently hexed themselves by pointing the wand the right way.

They didn’t belong; they didn’t know anything about the magical world, and none of them put in all that much effort trying to fit in. None of them cared about magical society and their traditions. All they cared about was trying to make the magical world more like the muggle world, as if they were the savages for caring about tradition over modernization. Muggles forgot that tradition existed for a reason, that they kept their core values for a reason. That practises weren’t just something they could throw out a window like some sort of bloody fad. They mattered, their values mattered. And muggleborns were too ignorant and stupid to see otherwise. They were too caught up with trying to show wizards just how backwards they were that they never bothered to question why things were done a certain way.

She hated them, the lot of them. They were so ignorant of her world; they didn’t belong in it. They didn’t deserve to try and sit on the Wizengamot, not when they didn’t understand a single thing about how their world worked. Not when they didn’t care for trying to understand how things worked.

She knew it would be worse for the statute for them not to bring the muggleborns into their world; she had heard tales of Obscurials and how they had threatened them all. But it didn’t mean they deserved to be in their world, with the same rights and status as the rest of them, who were born here, who understood how things worked, and only wanted their world and their practises to remain intact.

It was what she had been taught, it was what her parents preached to her day after day, and she could see it for herself when she had attended school for the first time. That muggleborns were hopelessly outmatched, and pathetically underprepared for understanding how their world worked. And perhaps it wasn’t their fault. Perhaps they should have been integrated better. But fools like Dumbledore would never allow for such a thing. Assimilation was necessary to a degree to be able to properly integrate into society, yet he preferred their society to assimilate to the muggles. It wasn’t progression, it was trying to destroy their core values.

And somehow, in all of this, her own sister had been brainwashed by Dumbledore’s stupid values. Somehow her own sister had fallen in love with a mudblood, of all things. A mudblood who would forever sully the Black family name, where they once proudly cared for their purity, would now be just as common as other families. That her sister was a blood traitor and her grandfather didn’t even care. That he had encouraged it!

She was outraged, of course she was. How could her family allow for such a thing? How could her family who knew better, who preached about it constantly, allow her sister to marry a mudblood simply because he stole magic from his ancestors. Magic which had left his family due to their unworthiness. Magic which didn’t belong to him and had died out for a reason.

None of it made sense to her. She was confused, and she was furious, and a part of her wanted to question her grandfather, to call him senile, and get her own father, or even uncle Orion to take over the family lordship. Merlin knew her blood traitor cousin would be the ruin of their family. But hopefully he would screw that up all on his own, and Draco, her good, pure, brother would be able to save their family from ruin and push them back onto the path of purity.

She knew the world was changing, that it was only a matter of time before her peers rose up and protested the mudbloods attempts of modernizing their world. It was happening already, and she was well aware that it was only a matter of time before the world was restored to the way it should be.

She had heard whispers for months, of a power rising up to set the world back to the way it once should be.

And then a month ago Rodolphus Lestrange, her former classmate and housemate, had approached her, telling her of a man who would save them all. A man with ideals that aligned so closely to what she hoped the world would return to. That he supported the causes of purity and traditions.

She had begged him for more details, needing to know more about this man who would save them all, and instead he had just given her a wry smile, telling her that he would tell her more in time. And she hated it, hating the suspense. She needed to know, she wanted to know, to be saved from the way things currently were.

Soon, he promised her. Soon she would meet the man meant to save them all, and she would be able to stand along the rest of them, fighting to keep their world and their traditions. Soon the horrors she had endured would be erased, as well as the missteps of her family. Soon, she would be able to eliminate everything that harmed their world.

Severus Snape didn’t know what to think of Hermione Potter.

Sure, he liked her well enough now, no longer hating her for the actions of her brother, which he had learned to accept had not been malicious, but accidental. Especially given that he had spent a solid week at her home, getting to know her without his own prejudice clouding his perception of her. So he had learned to be nicer, to be less reserved, ready to push everyone away without a care in the world.

And why would he double think it? Kids had not been the nicest to him growing up; he was poor, lived in a house that scared them, and he actually cared about his studies. Other than Lily, no one had ever tried to be his friend without other intentions. Slytherins tried because they liked to make as many connections as possible, never knowing when one of their connections would help them out. Never knowing when it could be beneficial for them.

Yet she seemed to truly want to be his friend, a fact he had come to accept. She was an academic, and she surrounded herself with friends who were similar. She befriended her brother’s only studious friend, Lily who was by far the most intelligent in their year, the Blacks who had more academic resources than most families, even if half of it was Dark Magic, and him, who knew about Potions.

And it was easy to see it from the surface and not think anything more than that. That she simply wanted studious friends to study with. It didn’t take much to know that she was well beyond her year’s material. He wouldn’t be surprised if she had herself placed in school based on her knowledge and if she were to surpass them all. She was brilliant, even if she tried to hide it for some reason. He knew it was hard for her, knew from years of pretending to be less bright than he was to avoid standing out, to avoid gathering attention. She was brilliant, and yet she hid it.

He didn’t know her well enough to question it, didn’t care enough to want to raise attention to something she clearly didn’t want others to know about her. Any why should he? If she wanted to pretend to be less talented than she was, then who was he to go and out her secret? Who was he to tell her she needed to stand out and accept her brilliance for all it was worth. For if she did, she might just get as arrogant as her brother, and call him biased but he almost preferred her this way.

He preferred her as she was, modest, curious, and always trying to learn more, to seek out more knowledge.

And if it weren’t for the fact that she was so brashly Gryffindor at times, he would be convinced that she was sorted into the wrong house; that she should have been a Ravenclaw, dazzling amongst the other scholars in the house. But instead she shone brightly in Gryffindor, winning her house points for her knowledge, but never showing off, keeping it seemingly hidden.

But what really confused him was the integration of them all. That she worked so hard to try and build up her study group with members from both houses.

He and Lily were an anomaly; he knew from the looks he got his first year that his friendship with her was confusing to the rest of the school, that they didn’t understand it or them at all. That the two of them should stop being friends because of stupid things like house rivalries, even if he couldn’t care less about such trivialities.

But then came along Hermione Potter, who threw all rules out the window. Who befriended three Slytherins, and studied with them, alongside her Gryffindor friends. Who cared nothing for house rivalries and the lines that should divide them all. Who preferred to have friends based on their merit and their personalities over their house alliances.

And she confused them all.

It wasn’t that Lupin was that bad of a study partner. For while he didn’t care about the older Potter or Black siblings, Lupin was clearly the most tolerable of them. An academic, who understood moderation to their madness, and who had some sort of semblance of the childhood Severus had. A father who didn’t care for their conditions. And he didn’t know the specifics of it, just as Lupin did not know about him, but he felt a connection to the boy for enduring similar upbringings.

He could tell from the looks they got every time they sat in the library that the rest of the world didn’t exactly understand their friendship either; that they were all just as confused by his study group. For it was confusing; a group mixed with people who should cause some sort of chaotic disturbance. Gryffindors and Slytherins, whose houses hated each other with a passion. Members from one the oldest wizarding families, known for their obsession with purity, and muggleborns, who defied all the rules. And yet, no one cared. It didn’t matter. Other than the occasional remark of house preference, there was no snipping, no hexing, nothing which would indicate any sort of prejudice.

It was strange new territory to him, and for the rest of the school to look in on.

And in all honesty, he wasn’t sure how long it would last. He was so sure it would break apart, after their first attempt at trying to study together. And when it didn’t, he brushed it off, calling it a fluke. But then their second study session, followed by their third, fourth, and even fifth, passed him by, and all of a sudden he wasn’t all that sure anymore.

He was still convinced that it wouldn’t last, not forever. But perhaps it would last slightly longer than he believed. And while he wouldn’t be all that devastated if Potter finally cared about her house allegiances, he would have to admit that he would miss it.

Albus Dumbledore sat at the Headmaster’s seat of the Heads table in the Great Hall, staring out at the scene in front of him. He watched, as Hermione Potter made her way into the Great Hall, with her friends trailing after her, laughing, without a care in the world.

He tried not to meddle in student affairs, not if he could help it. It was their adolescence and their attempts to try and maneuver their ways through it that shaped who they were when they were older. And who was he to interfere with such things?

Of course, friendships rarely extended beyond house lines, and why would they? Their peers were the most similar to them, they shared their classes together, and their meals. It was rare that students would need to reach beyond their houses to try and be friends.

Sure, there were the occasional pairs who tried to make it work, and a few couples who often ventured outside house lines. But even those were small and just a few of them that it was insignificant.

But in front of him stood Hermione Potter, friends with both Gryffindors and Slytherins. And not just one or two like the rest, but with several.

And what worried him the most was who her choice of friends were. For it wasn’t just Severus Snape, one of the few half-bloods in the house, but Blacks, who were notoriously dark and believed in blood purity. And while Sirius Black was something of an exception, he had doubts that Regulus and Draco Black were anything different than their families. That they were very much as dark as the rest. After all, they were in Slytherin, weren’t they?

For a Potter, who stood so proudly on the Light side to be friends with a Dark family worried him. For the Potters had stood proudly by his side through Wizengamot and against Grindelwald. And with the wizarding world changing once more, it was only a matter of time before he would need the Potter family to stand proudly by his side. And if Hermione Potter was swaying into the Dark Arts, he wondered if perhaps she would be the one Albus would need to save the world from.

She broke the mold of a typical student. For she was intelligent, but she did not feel the need to stand out based on her merit, and several of her professors complained that at times it seemed as if she was holding herself back, out of laziness, as she simply did not care to try and shine brightly. Nor was she like her brother, who shone brightly in the spotlight and loved the attention. Nor did she care enough to try and play any sports, despite being old enough to try out for the Qudditch team. She stood out, and she collected people, almost as if she knew who would be useful to her. Almost as if she craftily made friends based on what they would be able to offer her, be it connections or knowledge.

And the last person who did that, who stood out and broke the mold without a care of what people thought of him, was Tom Riddle. For those who broke the mold always accomplished great things, even if they weren’t always good.

For Tom Riddle was a revolutionary who wanted to change the world. He wanted to reshape it in his image. And while he had vanished after school, travelling the world and gathering knowledge, Albus knew it was only a matter of time before they heard from him once more. Before he returned and tried to change the world as they knew it.

And he heard whispers of a man who wanted to change the world, and remake it to be better, purer. A man under a name which he all but knew to be false. A man who promised to return things to how they once were.

And the last person who had promised such things had been Gellert Grindlewald.

It still broke his heart, to watch the man he had loved turn in a monster, to demand power more and more to the point where it destroyed him, and nearly destroyed the wizarding world. To the point where he had been forced to face the man he once had loved and defeat him.

It wasn’t a matter of if Tom Riddle would return to wizarding England, but a matter of when. For he was coming, and Albus knew the days to come would be dark before they returned light once more. He had already heard of their destruction, seen the attack they had caused the last year first hand, and seen the deaths that had resulted.

And Hermione Potter, alongside her friendship with Draco Black would leave a mark on the wizarding world. They would be a force to recon with, not taking the cards they are dealt but demanding a new hand until they are pleased.

And such an attitude was hard to control. It was hard to lead and push them in certain directions. It was hard to tell them what they needed to do to save them all, because Albus Dumbledore only had the good of the world in his intentions. He wanted to make sure the world did not fall to a megalomaniac and remained whole.

Hermione Potter, who broke the mold and stood out from the rest was someone who would change the wizarding world. And in all honestly, Albus Dumbledore had no idea what to think of her. For she and Draco Black would either save the wizarding world or try and send them to their destruction. And for that, he couldn’t trust them, and needed to keep a watch over them, to ensure he could steer them towards the right direction.

Chapter Text

Peter wandered the halls of Hogwarts, feeling lonely, and abandoned. It was hard not to, what with his friends off doing Merlin knows what, and leaving him alone to his own thoughts.

He had thought it would end, consoling himself that it was only until they got back to school, where Remus would abandon them for his new friends, or James and Sirius would occupy themselves with Sirius’ brother and cousin, or playing Quidditch.

And yet Remus was off in the library with his study group which were far too advanced for him. Even Hermione or Draco, who were a year younger than him, were clearly far more intelligent than him. And if they didn’t say it in so many words, he couldn’t help but feel like an outcast, an outsider, any time he hung out with them.

With Sirius and James as chasers on the Gryffindor team, they were more occupied with Quidditch more nights than not. Meaning Peter was left to his own devices far more often than in the last two years.

He wasn’t studious, he always knew that, nor was he athletic. And he was finding it hard to keep up with his friends. For where Remus wasn’t athletic, he was intelligent, and the opposite for James and Sirius. Sure, James and Sirius were intelligent to a degree, their pranks always involved some sort of spell manipulation. And Remus would most likely be able to best Peter in any sort of athletic ability. So the boys complemented each other.

But Peter? He was lacking in all the fields. He had nothing to bring to the table, no skill which he could take pride in. Nothing that set him apart from his peers. Nothing he could bring into his friendship with the other boys. Nothing that made him, him.

And he couldn’t help but wonder at times if the boys were only his friend due to being dorm mates. If they wouldn’t hesitate to ignore him otherwise. For he wasn’t anything special. He wasn’t irreplaceable. He was just some boy who tagged along on their various adventures.

He was selfish, he knew that. For while he may not have a place with the boys, he had no intention of distancing himself. As long as they didn’t mind if he were in their lives, he would stay. He would be their friend until they found it inconvenient and threw him to the curb.

And maybe that was the selfish part of him; the part that was perhaps using them as much as they were using him. Using them for the thrill of the popularity, for the attention he got from their peers when he was with them. For the help they provided him in school. So if they planned on throwing him away after school ended, then he would get his fair use of their friendship. He would make all the connections he could so that when they were gone, he got everything he needed out of their friendship.

He hated it, knowing that they would always put each other first. That James would put Sirius, Remus, or Hermione first if the situation ever arose, but that he had no clear indication that they would ever do the same for him. That they would care enough to do the same for him.

“Wandering all alone at this time of night?” he heard a voice call out, and he took a step back as Avery rounded the corner and looked at him. “Either you are incredibly brave or incredibly stupid.”

He reached to draw his wand, “What’s it to you, Avery, what I choose to do with my own time? Don’t you have helpless muggleborns to hex?”

Avery laughed at that, “Is that what you think of us Slytherins? That we all attack poor innocent muggleborns?”

“Is it not what you do?” Peter sneered.

“I think you are confusing us with your friends,” Avery said pointedly, “About attacking innocent people. Last I checked, they were the ones who hexed Slytherins, were they not?”

‘Not anymore,’ Peter thought bitterly. Hermione Potter had seen to it that her brother was not involved in such things anymore.

“Where are your friends anyways?” Avery asked, and Peter missed the smirk on his face, “Couldn’t be bothered to wander the halls with you? Or do they have better things to be doing than to be seen with you?”

“Is that what this is about?” Peter snarled, “Come to tell me just how insignificant I am?”

“No,” Avery shook his head, “I was going to the kitchens, and ran into you. But clearly you’ve had that on your mind for a while. To have friends who think they are so above everyone else that they don’t even notice that they are isolating their mate. That their heads are so far up their own arses they don’t see you alone, occupied with their own problems.”

“What would you know about it?” Peter asked him, shaking. “What would you know of your friends abandoning you?”

“I would know enough to tell you that it’s wrong,” Avery said, raising a brow. “That Slytherins have been painted as self-centered, but we never would turn our backs on our allies. We never would abandon them recklessly, without caring of how they felt.”

“You know nothing of my friendship with them!” Peter defended, unsure why, “They care about me.”

“So you think,” Avery taunted, “What do you have to offer them, really? How long is it until they abandon you and move on with their lives? How long will it be until they forget you exist entirely?”

“What do you want, Avery?” Peter asked him tiredly.

“I want to go to the kitchen and get some dessert,” Avery said, looking at him, “And clearly you look like you could use some company. So why don’t you come with me, and the two of us go get something to eat?”

He wanted to say not, to be cautious. But he was so tired of being alone.

If James Potter had been looking forward to one thing since going to Hogwarts, it was going to Hogsmeade. And Hermione knew that all too well, from his incessant babbling about it. He never shut up about how excited he was to go to Hogsmeade, that it was a surprise he never asked their parents to take him over his summers.

She supposed thought, that it was more about the rite of passage; to finally be old enough to be trusted to go on a day trip with his friends and to be able to spend the time in the village without anyone saying anything otherwise. To know that he would be able to go to the Three Broomsticks and order a butterbeer, or to go to Zonko’s and pick up more materials for pranks, without having to bribe older students to pick things up for him, or to place mail orders by owl. Instead he would be able to spend a day out with his friends and enjoy a weekend off from school.

Not that he spent much of his weekends worrying about school. But if anything, it would be good for Remus to be dragged out of the library every now and then and spend time with his friends.

She was not jealous. She wasn’t! she had gone to Hogsmeade tons of times in her old life, even when Harry couldn’t. She had gone on dates and had gone and spent the day there with her friends. With Harry and Ron before the world as she knew it had ended. She had drank her share of butterbeer, getting pleasantly drunk on it. Hermione Granger had more than her fair share of experiences with Hogsmeade.

But Hermione Potter couldn’t help but feel slightly jealous.

She couldn’t help it, she really couldn’t! and it made no logical sense to her whatsoever that she was jealous. She knew in the coming years she would have more than enough chances to go down to the villiage once more; she just needed to wait another year.

But she still hated it, that she wasn’t able to go, and that James was. And to Hermione Potter, it felt like Hogwarts all over again, where James was able to go a full year before her, and she was left behind. It didn’t make any sense to her, it wasn’t the same sense of abandonment; she wasn’t physically left behind at home; just at the castle. And she would be seeing James that night! There was no reason for her to be feeling this way! To be feeling so utterly childish.

She hated it, more than she could even begin to describe. And that entire morning when James chattered on about how excited she was, she couldn’t help but push around her eggs resentfully, not trusting herself to be able to say anything that was not filled with unhappiness. Not trusting that she would be able to say anything that wasn’t filled with her own bitterness about not being able to go.

“Hey,” James asked her softly, as he placed an arm on her shoulder, “You haven’t said a word all morning, Hermione. Are you okay?”

“Yes,” she bit out, and James looked taken slightly aback.

“What happened?” he asked her immediately, “Did someone say anything? Did someone hurt you?”

“No,” she sighed, shaking her head, “I’m being silly, James. Don’t mind me.”

Understanding seemed to dawn on him then, and he wrapped an arm around her, “You want to go to Hogsmeade too, don’t you?”

She nodded miserably, “I want to go with you,” and she could tell he was doing everything in his power to hold back a laugh, which she commended him for.

“I know, Hermione,” he said softly, “I wish you could come with me too. I want nothing more than to be able to spend the day in the city with you. And I promise you, next year, I will spend your first Hogsmeade trip with you, taking you all around the village, pointing out all my favourite sights to you. And I’ll even buy you a butterbeer.”

“Promise?” she felt herself asking in a soft voice, and she chided herself. She as supposed to save the world, and instead here she was, acting like a jealous child. She had been an adult, for Merlin’s sake!

“I promise,” James said solemnly, “I promise I will make your very first Hogsmeade trip the best trip ever! It’ll be great, Hermione! I can’t wait to go so that I can find all the things you’ll like there! And I’m sure there’s a bookshop so next year we’ll go there, and you can spend the entire day in the shop if you want, picking up as many books as you like. I’m sure Mum and Dad wouldn’t mind if you picked up books. Merlin knows they approve more about literature than they do about sweets.”

“Literature isn’t bad for you,” she said in a mock haughty voice, and James simply laughed at that.

“I was going to bring you back some sweets,” he said, sighing, “But clearly you wouldn’t appreciate such a gesture. I suppose I have no choice then but to eat them all myself and make myself sick. And then I’ll tell Mum it is all your fault because you didn’t want any.”

She gasped, “I still want sweets! Also Mum would believe me over you any day, Jamie. We both know that.”

He laughed, “That I do.”

“Thank you,” she said softly, “I know I’m being silly about feeling jealous, so thank you for not making fun of me.”

“You’re my sister,” he said simply, “I never would make fun of you for things that you are feeling. I’m pretty sure if I were the younger sibling and you were going to Hogsmeade right now, I’d be begging you to smuggle me with you.”

She laughed at the image, “I thought about it, but we both know there is absolutely no logical way we’d be able to achieve such a thing.”

He smirked, “Not yet anyways.”

As McGonagall called the older students up to leave, James squeezed her tightly, and she smiled at him, “Have fun, James!”

She hated her mental age at times, with the knowledge she had, but at least she knew she could count on her family to be there for her.

James had been gone for a few hours when Hermione returned back to the Gryffindor tower from the library. It had been strange studying in the library by herself for the first time in quite a while. It didn’t help that half her friends were third years and were gladly exploring Hogsmeade for the first time, getting up to Merlin knows what. And her second-year friends, Regulus and Draco wanted to practise some quidditch moves before their try outs.

She wanted to shake her head at that. She didn’t understand what it was with her befriending people who seemed to be obsessed with the sport. She understood it was a big sport in their world, just as Hermione Granger’s dad had been obsessed with Football. Not that she understood either obsession. As far as she were concerned, there were far better things for them to be occupying themselves with.

But it was a reminder. That this time was hers and Draco’s now. That there was no point not trying to settle in and be happy here, as they were here to stay. That even though they came to be here due to a ritual that they would live the rest of their lives here, that they would one day find someone to get married to, to have families with, and have careers here, assuming they didn’t die first.

This world was theirs now, and the sooner she was able to accept that and live a normal life the better. Even if that meant stopping hiding her intelligence, which she knew from her mother that her professors seemed to think she wasn’t applying herself as much as she could have been. Of course it was difficult to explain why a second year would know NEWT level materials if she were to truly apply herself as her professors seemed to want her to.

She supposed it wouldn’t be completely uncalled for to ask for some higher-level assignments every now and then

She had been so wrapped up in her head that she almost didn’t notice the scene unfold in front of her. And if it weren’t for the scream of pain she would have missed it entirely.

“Stop please,” she heard Mary beg and she turned the corner quickly to see Mary on the ground, with a pack of Slytherins surrounding her.

“Not until you learn your place mudblood,” one of the upper years sneered. “Which is beneath us. You don’t belong here, in this world. So why don’t you crawl back to the muggle world where you belong? With your inferiors.”

“Get away from her,” Hermione said furiously, as she drew her wand and pointed them at her.

One of them laughed, “What will you do, blood traitor? Do you even know how to cast a spell?”

“Petrificus Totalus,” she said, trying to use one of her lower year spells, and she watched as the older boy froze, falling to the ground. The other two looked at her pensive, keeping their wands raised at her.

She quickly stunned the other two boys and ran to Mary, “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

Mary shook her head. “It would have been much worse if you hadn’t come when you did. Thank you, Hermione.”

“They never should have hurt you,” Hermione said furiously, “Let me take you to the hospital wing to get you checked.”

“I’m fine,” Mary insisted, “They didn’t have a chance to do much, I promise. I just want to go back to the tower.”

She wanted to protest but sighed when she saw the pleading look on her friend’s face. So instead, she sighed, and helped her friend back up to the Gryffindor tower, holding her the entire way up. She had a few cuts on her arms, but Hermione assumed that to be from the fall over anything else.

When they got back to the common room, Hermione sat down beside her, and began to cast a few healing spells.

“How do you even know these?” Mary asked her, eyes widening in surprise.

“My mum usually has to deal with James or I coming to her with bruises. Mainly James from his adventures. So you tend to pick things up from watching it for years.”

“It must be nice to grow up in a wizarding family,” Mary said wistfully.

“I’m sure your mum nursed your wounds too when you were hurt,” Hermione told her, “But with muggle medicine.”

Mary nodded at that.

“You know I don’t feel that way, right?” she asked her friend desperately. “I don’t think the same way that they do. I don’t care who your parents are. I don’t care if you are a muggleborn or a pureblood. I like that you are a kind person and that you only ever want to be there for people.”

“I know, Hermione,” Mary told her softly. “You’ve never given me reason to think that it matters to you, even if it clearly matters to others.”

“It shouldn’t though!” she said frustrated. “Blood status doesn’t matter in any way, other than who your family is. It doesn’t change how capable one is, or what their skills are. You are who you are because of your own merits and achievements, not because your blood says you are of some status or another. It doesn’t matter. And for them to bully you, to hurt you, because they claimed otherwise, it just plain wrong.”

“There will always be those with prejudice,” Mary told her sadly, “It can be because of race, gender, or blood status, but it always will exist. Wizarding world or muggle alike. And there’s nothing we can do to change that.”

‘Not if I can help it,’ Hermione thought bitterly to herself.

“Still,” Hermione said firmly. “I’m going to make sure Professor McGonagall knows exactly what happened.”

Mary gave her a grateful nod, and she squeezed her friend’s hand.

Lily couldn’t help but watch as James Potter bounced back the entire way back from Hogsmeade. Most people were excited about their time in the village, or sad they had to leave, but it seemed as if Potter was happy to be going back to the castle; to be leaving.

And while she was grateful to be going back to the castle, eager to tackle the next week’s homework, she couldn’t help but feel confused that James Potter was excited to be returning back to the Tower. It was hardly as if he did work in advance, not like his sister Hermione did. If he got all the sporty genes in the family, she must have gotten all the intellectual ones. For it wasn’t that James Potter wasn’t smart, but he hardly tried to apply himself on a regular basis, slacked off in courses, yet somehow always managed to know the answer when a Professor asked him.

It was fair to say that while she no longer hated James Potter with every fibre of her being for being a bully, he still infuriated her for being arrogant and a bit of a show off. She didn’t have to like him just because she spent the summer at his home, when she was mainly there for his sister.

She watched, as James bounced up the stairs of the tower, while everyone else trailed behind him tiredly, not having energy after spending the entire day roaming around the village. Even Sirius who was usually just as annoyingly bouncy as well, seemed to slump behind them at the bottom of the stairs, unable to keep up.

James entered the tower, and immediate sat down beside his sister, as he began to talk a million words a minute, telling her about his day and everything he saw. And Hermione listened raptly as he told her every little detail from how the village was set up to all the different stores in the village, and which ones he was absolutely certain she would love, promising to take her to those ones the following year.

“I also brought you back stuff,” James said, grinning brightly, as he took out two butterbeers, handing one to his sister, and the other to Hermione’s friend Mary. And Mary who had been quiet through the entire exchange looked up at James in awe.

“You didn’t need to get me anything,” Mary said, grinning, “Thank you so much!”

James scratched the back of his head, looking modest at that. “I thought you would appreciate it as well, given that you didn’t get to go down to the village. It’s the least I could do for Hermione’s friends. Besides, I know Sirius got some for his brother and cousin as well, and I didn’t want you to feel left out.”

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Hermione asked expectantly, and James rolled his eyes at her before pulling out a bag of sugar quills.

“As if I could forget your favourite sweet,” he laughed, as he handed her the bag, “I feel like I should tell you not to eat it all at once like Mum would say, but we both know you are far more responsible than me when it comes to those sorts of things.”

Hermione beamed at her brother, “Thanks, James,” she said, as she wrapped her arms around him. “Best big brother ever.”

“And you better remember that,” he said solemnly. “I am the best brother in the entire world.”

She laughed at that, as she threw a sugar quill at him, which he immediately caught and ate, laughing back with her, as he leaned into the couch.

Lily watched on, as the other boys piled on the couch, pooling their sweets between them, as they immediately began devouring it. And Hermione immediately began to chide them as to not over eat before dinner, while the boys ignored her promptly. However at least James had the decency to look chastised as she glared at him.

She couldn’t help but feel slightly jealous at the relationship between Hermione and James Potter. She knew the two of them were close, it was obvious watching them over the last year. And even staying at their house over the summer, it was more than apparent just how much James Potter cared about his sister. Hell, he had pulled his head out of his arse and apologised to Severus even if he didn’t have to. But he did, because it was making his sister unhappy.

If Petunia knew something made her unhappy, she would just continue to do it, simply to spite her sister. She had taken great pride the last summer to rub in just how normal she was, going to a normal school, dating a normal boy, and doing normal teenager things. Whereas Lily was anything but normal.

And she hated it. Hated that her once best friend now would rather pretend she didn’t exist than acknowledge her presence. And it hurt. It hurt incredibly, and Lily had no idea what to do. Her parents thought it was simply just teenagers being difficult, and that the two of them would grow out of it eventually. But Lily wasn’t all that sure.

Her relationship with her sister seemed to be crumbling more and more with each year, and Lily was sure that in time it would fall apart entirely, and nothing Lily would do would be able to save it.

Even Sirius and his brother had managed to make amends, despite different houses separating them. It was really only her and her sister who were unable to see past the fact that she had magic and her sister didn’t. and Lily didn’t think anything would be able to fix that.

Chapter Text

It was November when Hermione finally noticed the change in her brother’s actions.

In hindsight she probably should have seen it sooner. Should have known to have been looking out for it, given the fact that she was well aware that it happened in the first timeline. That it was something that she always anticipated would happen this time around as well.

James Potter had a crush on Lily Evans.

It was so blatantly obvious, from the way that he now looked over at her for every single thing he did, wanting to see if she was paying attention to him. When he got a spell right in class, she was the first person he would look to (which she only knew because Remus mentioned it once in passing how her brother seemed to be trying a lot harder to stand out in class). When he and the boys pranked the school, he would see if she was smiling and if she seemed unamused he would be unhappy for the rest of the day. He watched how Lily took her morning tea, with one milk and no sugars, and tried to do the same, despite the fact that he hated unsweetened tea, and more than that, he hated tea all together.

He had a crush on Lily Evans, and it had become blaringly obvious to Hermione overnight. And she didn’t know whether to tease her brother mercilessly like a younger sibling, offer him advice, or just pretend not to notice all together, until he tried something stupid.

Because the immature part of her really wanted to do the first, to make fun of her brother for going out of his way to try and impress someone. But the logical, Hermione Granger part of her who wanted her brother and her friend to get together so her future best friend turned nephew would one day be born. Because she knew James would get Lily to notice him romantically one day, but would it be so bad if she fell for him sooner?

Would it be so bad if her brother didn’t waste years of his life acting like a peacock, showing off to try and impress a girl, instead of acting like himself and winning her over far sooner? Was a little more love in the world all that bad?

On the other hand, staying silent was also an option, as it gave James a chance to pursue things on his own, naturally, without her meddling. She was already changing so much of the future, she didn’t want to accidently do something which would stop the two of them from getting together and thus meaning Harry was never born. She didn’t think she would be able to handle a world without Harry Potter in it.

She didn’t have much time to come to any sort of conclusion as to what to do, as the next Hogsmeade trip approached, and James seemed to put his own plans into motion. At thirteen, her brother’s classmates have started going on dates, even if they are innocent in nature with light handholding and quick pecks in the corridors between classes. She noticed the shift slowly the first time around, her own crush on Ron playing out in her mind fondly. She loved him sure, but she knew the two of them never would have worked, and one of them would probably kill the other out of annoyance. But he was her friend, and she never would have changed anything about that.

“Lily Flower,” James said, as he appeared before her in the Great Hall, “Will you do me the honour of going to Hogsmeade with me?”

Her friend looked shocked at first, before coming back to her senses. She rolled her eyes, and shook her head, “In your dreams Potter. There’s no way I’m spending an entire day with you in Hogsmeade.”

James looked heartbroken at first, but quickly recovered, “Maybe next time then,” he said, with a bright face, as he walked away and sat beside Hermione at the table.

“Rough luck,” she said sympathetically.

“You’re not going to make fun of me for having a crush?” he asked her, raising a brow.

“I thought about it,” she admitted with a grin, “But I decided you’ve faced enough today for me to bother saying anything.”

“How long have you known?” he sighed, placing his head in his hands.

“A week or so now,” she admitted, “So pretty much the entire duration of your crush.”

He sighed again, and she placed a hand over her brother’s. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“What’s there to talk about?” he said, “She’s perfect. Her hair, her beautiful eyes, her brain.”

Hermione crinkled her nose, “It sounds strange when you put it like that. A little like creepy.”

 “I can’t help it,” he defended. “She makes me sappy. I don’t know how I’ve gone this long without noticing how amazing Lily Evans is. She’s amazing, Hermione, and I don’t know how I can go a day without her in my life.”

“Well, maybe start by trying to be her friend,” Hermione offered. “If she knows you like I do then she’ll see you in a different light.”

“So if I keep asking her out, then she’ll eventually give in?” James asked, perking up immediately.

“That was not what I said or meant at all,” Hermione shook her head quickly, “Don’t do that James. She won’t say yes if you keep asking her. You need to be her friend first, then try again.”

“Too late,” he said standing as he kissed her on the forehead, “I need to come up with a game plan, with several strategies and plays as to how this is going to work if I want to implement it properly. Thanks Hermione, you’ve given me a lot to think about.”

“James,” She yelled after him, “Don’t you dare!”

But it was too late to stop him as he strolled out of the Great Hall, whistling and looking happier than ever.

Dear Merlin.

It’s November before she and Draco are able to make their way to the Room of Requirements to retrieve the Diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw.

It probably should have taken over a year for them to obtain the first horcrux, but at the same time it’s hardly the end of the world that it took this long. The horcruxes that they are certain about at this point are Tom’s diary, the Gaunt Ring, Helga Hufflepuff’s cup, and Slytherin’s locket. She doubted he would have made any more this time around, not when at the moment he had nothing to fear. Not when he didn’t know anyone was aware of the horcruxes. And other than the ring which was surely in the remains of the Gaunt Shack, she had no idea where any of the rest of them were, not yet anyways.

And they had spent the last year productively. While making friendships was certainly important, it was hardly the only thing that they had done over the last year. They had been preparing for this, to learn charms and spells they would need to be able to store the horcrux safely until a time they were able to destroy all the horcruxes together simultaneously. Because Voldemort had found out last time that they were after the destruction of horcruxes, and it had prompted him to act. And the last thing they needed was Voldemort to become aware of them before necessary.

She knew they were hardly going to defeat Voldemort tomorrow. No, they needed to do research; they needed to find out just where Voldmort’s other horcruxes were, and how to destroy them without having to battle a basilisk. And that would take time.

“Are you ready?” Draco asked her, as they stood outside the Room of Requirement. She had made sure to disillusion themselves, as it would hardly do them any good if anyone knew where they were, or what they were doing.

“As ready as I can be to go collect a piece of Voldemort’s soul,” she sighed, as she stared at the wall where the door would appear.

“It’ll be okay,” he reassured her, and she wondered if he was just as nervous as she was. “It has to be.”

She took a deep breath, nodding, as they walked past the room exactly three times.

“I need a place where I can hide things, somewhere no one else can find,” she thought to herself, repeating it in her head over and over, until the door finally appeared.

Draco looked at her, and she opened the door, feeling a rush of anticipation, and she could see Draco was just as wary.

For the last time they had set foot in the room, Crabbe had set the room ablaze, and it had ultimately resulted in his death, destroying the room in the process.

She could still feel the heat from the flames, scorching her skin as she relived those moments.

“Let’s get this over with,” Draco muttered, as he walked down the aisles. “Do you have the parchment that Potter gave you with instructions on how to find the Diadem?”

She nodded, pulling the parchment out of her robes.

Right past a stuffed troll, left past the Vanishing cabinet, until the cupboard that looked like it had acid thrown on it. There should be a chipped bust of an ugly warlock, and on top of a dusty wig on its head should lie a tarnished tiara.

“Not very descriptive,” Draco noted, “There are hundreds of alleyways here. It could take hours. It would have been nice if he had drawn us a map or something.”

“I remember where it is roughly,” she said, “Besides, neither time he was here was a pleasant time for him. The first time-”

“He had just left me cut up in the bathroom, and needed a place to hide my godfather’s potions book?” Draco asked her drily.

“Yes,” she said, a little sheepish, as they walked down the aisles. “He was sorry for that, by the way.”

“I know he was,” Draco said, looking at her, “He made it clear that he regretted the outcome of the spell, and that if he had known he never would have tried it.”

“I miss him,” she told him, her heart aching. It was one thing to be trying to befriend people she had barely known in her past life. But standing here, in this room, knowing the last time they were fighting for their life, hurt. That even though they had won that battle, they still lost the war. That so many had died, and she would never see them again. Not in the same way.”

“He was your brother,” he told her, “Even without the ritual, he was your family. That was always clear. It’s normal that you miss him, Hermione.”

They took a turn past the troll then as she grimaced at the sight of it.

“At least this time, if we win, he won’t have to know half the pain of his old life. He’ll never know hatred. He’d be raised by parents who love him, without being treated like a burden or a freak. He’ll never have to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders.”

“Instead that honour is given to us,” Draco sighed.

“We volunteered for this,” she reminded him, as they saw the vanishing cabinet. Draco froze at the sight of it, and she nudged him past it softly, knowing it was a painful reminder of his sixth year, and the pressure he had been under.

“Not much of a choice,” he said softly, “Save the world or die in it. I chose to survive. To save myself.”

“You chose to save everyone,” she said, “That counts for something.”

They paused, and she looked up to see the cupboard Harry had been referring to. It was ghastly, the surface blistering from the acid, and she couldn’t help but grimace as she looked at it.

“So now we need a bust of a warlock,” Draco muttered as he looked around them. She looked up and saw a crate on the top of a stack of books, with the bust on it.

“I see it!” she said, as she pointed up to where the bust was. It was higher up, and while Hermione Granger had grown a decent amount in her adult life, Hermione Potter was still pre-pubescent, and unable to reach tall things.

“We could summon it,” he suggested, and she shook her head immediately.

“We tried that the first time around. It didn’t work. Can’t exactly summon dark objects,” she sighed, “We need to get it manually.”

He sighed, “Of course we do,” he said, as he began to pile up objects from around them. He was taller than her, and he had taken it upon himself to reach the object. He stood on a battered old cabinet as he reached up to reach the diadem by standing on his tip toes.

“I got it,” he said excitedly, as he leaned forward to take it in his hands fully, before the cupboard began to shake.

“Careful,” she warned, as he leaned forward more, and the stack began to shake.

She watched in horror, as he fell backwards, desperately trying to grab onto anything, and the stack of books falling on top of him.

“Draco!” she yelled, as she leaned over him, clearing the books off of him.

“Bloody Hell,” he moaned and she saw one of the books had caused some sort of reaction, as his blood vessels turned black form the contact.

“We need to get you to the hospital wing!” she said urgently, trying to help him stand up.

“The diadem,” he groaned, “We can’t forget about it. We need to secure it before anything else. I’ll be fine.”

She quickly placed the diadem in the bag she had warded earlier to keep it safe, before she helped Draco stand so she could rush him to the hospital wing. She all but spelled him with a levitating charm to get him there quickly, knowing he wouldn’t be able to walk on his own. And she needed to get him there quickly if she wanted him to survive.

She was there for all of ten minutes, waiting for Madam Pomfery to say something, to say anything, before Sirius and James arrived. She wanted to know how they knew, but she knew her brother and Sirius were too clever for their own good, and they would have come soon enough.

“What happened?” Sirius demanded as he all but ran down the hall. “Did someone hex him? Who did this?”

“Sirius, breathe,” James said, but she knew her brother was just as tense, wondering who it was who hurt him.

“It wasn’t a person,” she said, reassuring him quickly, “No one did this to Draco.”

“Then?” Sirius demanded, “Are you saying he did this to himself? What happened, Hermione?”

“I,” she started helplessly, not knowing what to say. She hadn’t had time to come up with any sort of cover story as to how Draco could have gotten hurt. And if any of their Professors started asking questions then they would be in trouble. This was supposed to be easy, supposed to be low risk. Instead she might have just blown their entire mission, or at least gotten them in severe trouble. She couldn’t explain why they were in the Room of Requirement, or that they were even there. But where else could she say he got hurt? The restricted section maybe, but then they would be in trouble for being there without permission. But it was better than expulsion or revealing the truth. What was one detention, or even a week, to keep their mission a secret? They could spin it so that they wanted a book to further their readings but were too afraid to ask. Perhaps their teachers would buy that.

“Hermione,” James prompted her, “What happened?”

“I can’t tell you,” she said, pleading her brother to understand. “I don’t want to lie to you, Jamie. Don’t make me lie to you.”

“Then tell me what happened,” he said softly, “Merlin knows Sirius and I have done enough stupid things. We’ll understand.”

“I can’t,” she cried, the fear finally settling in. Because she was worried about everything, about being caught, Draco dying, and leaving her alone to their mission, and her brother hating her for the rest of her life.

She saw James exchange a confused look with Sirius and she didn’t blame him. She had never kept anything from her brother, not ever. So for her to be unable to tell him meant that whatever she and Draco had been doing had been big.

He reached out and pulled her into a hug, rubbing her back, “It’s okay, Hermione. He’s going to be okay. And whatever it was that happened, you don’t need to tell me. I trust you. But know that you aren’t alone. I’m here for you if you ever want to talk about what happened or if you need someone to confide in. I won’t tell anyone. Draco will be okay, though, Madam Pomfery can fix anything.”

“Not everything,” Madam Pomfery said sternly, “You got lucky that you brought him to me when he did. If the curse had reached his heart, he would have been dead instantly. What were you doing that he got hurt like that? Where did you find such a dark object? For a student to be cursed like that, it’s something I’ve never seen before.”

“I believe we all would like the answer to that,” she heard an older voice say, and she almost sighed knowing that it was Albus Dumbledore. She had managed to avoid his notice for a year, and now he had his sights on her. “Perhaps you would like to join me in my office, Miss Potter, where we can discuss what happened here?”

She felt herself nodding, as her mind rushed to come up with her cover story.

“Do you want me to come with you?” James whispered and she shook her head. She could do this on her own. She needed to diffuse whatever suspicions Dumbledore had before it was too late. She may need his help later, but for ow she couldn’t have him getting curious about her. Not when she still had so much to do. So she silently followed him up to his office, not saying a word as she sat down across from his seat.

“Do you want to start at the beginning, Miss Potter?” Dumbledore asked her kindly, but she could see there was a glimmer of curiosity behind his eyes. “What happened to Mr Black?”

“We were in the library,” she admitted, “I wanted a book on advanced transfiguration, but it seemed like that book was only available in the restricted section. Draco accompanied me to try and get it. And I know we shouldn’t have been there, but I wanted to read it so badly, curious on the transfiguration property which I couldn’t find anywhere else. The book was too high up for me to reach, so Draco offered to get it. He had to stand on one of the shelves, but he lost his balance, falling. It happened so quickly, and before I knew it a book was laid out on top of him and the curse flowing through his body. I didn’t know what to do, so I rushed him to the hospital wing.”

“You never thought to ask any of your professors for permission?” he asked her, “They would have given you a slip had you asked. It is why we have those books available, for further enrichment of young minds.”

“I didn’t think they would agree,” she said, looking down, “It was in the restricted section after all. But I can see now that I should have tried asking.”

“That can be the folly of youth,” Dumbledore said, looking at her without giving away whether he believed her tale or not. “I hope you learned your lesson, Miss Potter, for Mr Black has paid for your curiosity.”

She nodded, “I’m sorry,” she said, pain in her voice, “I wouldn’t have done it if I thought he would have gotten hurt.”

“I know,” he said, without saying anything else. “Next time, however, I will be forced to give you a detention.”

Her head snapped up in shock, unsure of why she wasn’t being punished.

“Do you want me to give you a detention?” he asked her, almost amused.

“I broke the rules,” she said in shock, “I should have a detention.”

“Yet you seem remorseful, and it seems as if you and young Mr Black have been punished enough, don’t you think?” he asked her, eyes twinking.

She didn’t say anything and he gave her a moment to process that.

“How are you fitting in at school?” he asked her, “I noticed that you seem to have a wide range of friends, across houses.”

She shrugged, trying to play it off, “It’s no big deal. They make for good study partners, and I enjoy their company.”

“It’s not many students who can be friends with rival houses,” Dumbledore pressed on, “Especially between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Most students have issues getting over such barriers, yet you seem to have no problems with such things, befriending everyone regardless of their house ties.”

“It’s more about the person than the house,” she said, looking up at him, “I’m friends with people because of who they are, not what house they are in. Draco is a good study partner whom I can always rely on for a decent debate. But more than that, he’s a friend of mine.”

“From a different house,” he said again, “A rarity for our school. It is rare for there to be singular friendships across houses, yet you seemed to befriend several Slytherins, Miss Potter.”

“Why is that so strange?” she asked him again, “I thought you were supposed to be all for house unity, Headmaster. Is it that strange that I am complying, and befriending those in other houses? That I can see past the characteristics that separate us and see the people behind those characteristics? Draco and I both enjoy studying, yet neither of us felt the need to define ourselves by our intelligence. Why is it so strange that I would befriend a person with similar interests as my own?”

“Slytherins often have different interests at heart, Miss Potter,” Dumbledore warned her, “Especially families such as the Blacks where they seem to care more about blood and status.”

“My mother was a Black,” she said flatly. “Besides, I’ve never met Draco’s parents, but I can assure you he’s nothing like them. That he doesn’t subscribe to those same beliefs. Just because he’s in a house doesn’t mean he’s a supremacist. And statements like those are exactly why it is so hard for people to make friends across house lines. Instead of celebrating our differences, we’re separated by them, and questioned when we try to make friends in different houses. How can you promote house unity when you sit here questioning my choice of friends? You seem to have no problems with my brother being friends with Sirius, so why is my friendship with Draco any different?”

“You’re too young to understand,” Dumbledore sighed pushing his spectacles up, “Perhaps when you’re older, you will see the difference between Slytherins and other houses.”

“I can assure you that my friendship with Draco Black is not that feeble that it can be broken easily,” she said, standing. “Now, if I am not in trouble, would you mind if I am excused? I would like to get back to the hospital wing to check on my friend. Because I care about him. And I know if the positons were reversed, he would be just as worried about me.”

Dumbledore had a grave look on his face, looking worried at her inability to consider his words, but she ignored it as she strolled out of his office. Perhaps it would be hard to stay off Dumbledore’s radar. But if she were going to be on it, she would make damned sure he knew her opinions on his own prejudice.

Chapter Text

Hermione was left wary after her talk with Dumbledore, feeling as if the man always was watching over everything she did or said. Feeling as if he were watching her at meals, trying to figure her out and sense if she were some sort of mystery that he couldn’t quite seem to figure out. And it worried her, to an extent. Dumbledore always had a way of being a bit too meddling in his student’s lives. He watched Tom Riddle like a hawk as well, waiting for the boy to slip up, waiting for him to be caught breaking the rules so he could have a sense of justification that all his speculations were correct and that Tom Riddle truly were a monster.

And she couldn’t say it was the cause of Tom Riddle becoming Lord Voldemort. Merlin knew the child had been dark, and it was his many experiences that shaped him into the monster he became. But she knew it was wrong at the same time, for Dumbledore to suspect an innocent child, who had yet to commit the crimes he one day would.

It was different for her, she supposed. She knew she wasn’t a monster. She knew she wasn’t the same sort of evil that Voldemort was. Yes, she was keeping things from Dumbledore, things she didn’t want him to know, things he couldn’t even begin to understand. And she would keep hiding them from him, until they decided it was time for him to know.

She stared at the note in her hands, delivered to her by owl, unsure of what it meant. And if it was Dumbledore trying to meddle through other people.

Miss Potter, I would like to see you in my office after you finish your meal. – Professor McGonagall

James shot her a curious look, and she didn’t blame him. In the last week she had managed to confuse her brother by keeping secrets from, things she couldn’t tell him for his own safety. And she knew he didn’t quite understand what she could possibly be hiding from him, but she needed to. She couldn’t risk him knowing. Couldn’t risk him interfering. Couldn’t risk ruining his innocence with a war he would be a part of soon enough.

“Professor McGonagall wants to see me,” she said tightly, and he nodded, confused, as she packed up her bags and headed towards the small study on the first floor.

She took a deep breath as stood in front of the Head of her house’s office, knocking lightly.

“Come in,” she heard her professor call out and she pushed open the door to head inside.

“Take a seat, Miss Potter,” her professor gestured to the unoccupied seat in the office. Hermione moved towards the chair and sat down before clasping her hands together in an effort to calm herself.

“I wanted to talk to you about your discussion with the Headmaster,” Professor McGonagall said sternly, and Hermione’s head shot up in surprise, wondering just what the Headmaster had told her.

“I want you to approach your friends with an air of caution,” Professor McGonagall told her softly. “Not every person in life who is nice to you is trustworthy. Not every person who is kind now will be the same way in five years, or in ten years. And I want you to be careful with who you chose to place your trust in, Hermione, for you don’t want to trust the wrong person and have them betray you. Especially concerning Slytherins. Us Gryffindors have a way of being trusting, of assuming that everyone around us is wholehearted and kind. But Slytherins have a way of caring about themselves beyond anyone else. It’s their nature, just as it is ours to be reckless at times. Slytherins care about their own nature, and that includes making friends that could help them get ahead in life, or for people who could help them with course work. And you are a kind-hearted student. I can see that from my observations where you have no reservations about helping others. Where you are constantly looking out for those who you care about.”

“With all due respect, Professor,” Hermione started, trying to keep her voice level. She was tired of all the assumptions that Slytherins were horrible people. “I don’t see why it is your place to be wary of my friends.”

“It’s my place because you are one of my students, Miss Potter, and I do not want you to be hurt,” Professor McGonagall raised a brow at her. “I am not trying to tell you that all Slytherins are evil. We would be doing a great disservice to a quarter of our students if we were to make that assumption. And that would be horrendous of us to do, to accuse children of being dark because they choose to focus on certain values over others. I am aware of the horrible stereotype that there is not a single student in that house who does not turn out to be evil. But that does not make it true. I am well aware that students in other houses can turn out to be dark as well. And that members of my own house, as well as Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff can also be discriminatory towards certain members of society. That not all students in that house will turn the same way.”

Hermione looked up at her Professor, unsure of what to say or do.

“I wanted to let you know that you should always be cautious of who you befriend, and that is all. Unlike the Headmaster, I will not question your choice of friends, or claim that you need to stay away from certain members of those houses. You are old enough to decide on your own who you chose to support and befriend. And I wanted you to know that I am proud of you, for choosing to see beyond house lines, as it can be hard for younger students to do so. You are choosing to befriend people for who they are, rather what house they are in. And I will support you in doing so, while others cast stones.”

“Thank you, Professor McGonagall,” Hermione said softly, surprised at her professor’s support.

“If you ever need anyone to talk to, about anything, I am here for you, Hermione,” her professor told her gently. “Especially if you find yourself with no one else to confide in.”

Hermione smiled at her, standing up to leave, her mind heavy with the new found genuine support she seemed to have gained.

It was nice to see, that not all her professors were instantly against her trying to make friends in different houses. Because if she couldn’t even convince her fellow classmates to be friends, how could she convince them to fight on the same side of a war?

It was early December when Draco got the news from his sister, holding the letter in front of him proudly as he stared down at the page. He had been expecting it of course, knowing his sister was due to go into labour soon. Especially given Hermione informing him a few months back that Nymphadora Tonks would be born in December.

Dearest Draco,

I wanted to write to you as soon as I possibly could. I have given birth to a daughter, Nymphadora Cassiopeia Tonks. She’s beautiful, and I think even by holding her for a few moments, her hair has already changed colour several times. I believe she may have the lost Black family gift of metamorphmagus. She’s absolutely lovely, Draco, and I cannot wait for you to meet your niece, born to a family that accepts her and loves her. It is because of you, Draco, that she won’t have to grow up as an outcast, born to a legacy that despised her. And I thank you so much for everything you have done. For giving me the courage to do so. I want you to be her godfather, and Teddy agrees with me. Please promise me you’ll consider it.

Lots of Love,

Andromeda.

He felt his heart swell, knowing that he had made a difference, that his future cousin, now niece was born to a family that loved her, that she would be heralded and cared for by their entire family, instead of just pretending she didn’t exist.

“Did you see the news, Draco?” Sirius said loudly as he practically bounced over to the Slytherin table, waving his own letter through the air. “Andromeda had her baby!! I’m an uncle!!”

Regulus shot Draco an amused look as he had his own letter in his hands from Andromeda, shaking his head at his older brother’s antics.

“I am aware,” he grinned, as he held up his letter, “Andromeda has also written to me to tell me the news.”

“I’m an uncle,” Sirius reiterated.

“Merlin save that child,” Draco said dryly. “It’s probably for the best that she made me her godfather then.”

Sirius paused for a second, as a mixture of expressions passed over his face, before settling on pride.

“Congrats, Draco!” he said sincerely, “You deserve it, for everything you’ve done for her and Ted. And I know you’ll make a fine godfather to Nymphadora.”

“Thank you,” he said smiling at his cousin with pride, “You and Reg will make great uncles too. Merlin you’ll probably spoil the child rotten.”

“Someone has to,” Sirius winked and Draco laughed at that.

It was only later, when he was in the library with Hermione that he truly thought about the implications of Nymphadora’s birth. She had made him a godfather, something which obviously hadn’t happened the first time around. And he wondered who had held that honour the first time around, and if he had stripped that right from someone. And Cassiopeia, her middle name, named after Arcturus’ cousin who had cursed herself to get out of a marriage, and inspired Arcturus to change the rules of his headship, so no more of his family would have to suffer from similar fates.

“Maybe somethings have changed,” Draco said softly, “About Nymphadora. But something perhaps were always meant to happen, such as the time of her birth. Even with a marriage that was legitimized by the family, she still got pregnant at the same time and had Nymphadora. She even gave her that horrid first name Nymphadora will grow to hate, even with her family to support her.”

“It makes you wonder, doesn’t it,” she said softly, “If certain things were just always meant to work out, no matter what you change about the situation. That love will always prevail through the darkness.”

He gave her a gentle smile, “Perhaps it will. But I cannot help but wonder what this will mean for you and I. Not the two of us as Hermione Potter and Draco Black, but Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy. Will we still be born? If I cannot prevent my parents from getting married, will they still have me? What will this mean for the timeline, since we have cast the ritual? There were never any clear suggestions about what would happen to the people we once have been.”

“I don’t know,” Hermione admitted with a sigh. “I don’t think they’ll be us. Even if they are born at the same day and the same time, they can’t be us. Because even though our magic and our essence has been altered to fit into this new timeline, we still are the people we once were. They can be born, but they will be different people with different magic and different experiences. So they cannot be us. How can they when if we succeed they will never know the same lives? They will never grow up the same way we did.”

“Or perhaps they never will be born,” he sighed in confusion. “Perhaps the only way would be for them to just never exist at all, and thus preserve this timeline now, as we know it.”

She was silent at that, unsure of what to say, and he didn’t blame her. How could he, when he too, did not have any answers.

To say Sirius did not care for his home life would be an understatement. Because he hated it, detested it even. And if he were able to get away with staying at school for all holidays then he would, because it would mean he didn’t need to be at home, surrounded by people who were convinced that he was a failure of an heir, that he was only going to bring the family shame at every turn, and that he would ruin them all.

He wasn’t perfect, not like Regulus or Draco were, and as hard as it was, he resented them sometimes for being perfect in their parents’ eyes. It didn’t matter that neither younger boy believed in blood purity as he did. But because he was in Gryffindor, they assumed him to be lacking. That it was a testament to his demeanour. That he would bring the family shame by acting with his heart instead of with his head and brains. That he would ruin their entire family by his whims.

He hated it. He hated the way his mother and father would always talk about him as if he were not in the room, going on and on about his failures as a son, and how the family would probably be better off in anyone else’s hands. How he didn’t deserve to have the mantle of the future head of the house.

He didn’t want it anyways. Not if it meant having to live by their obscene rules and meant having to treat his future family the same way he was raised. He couldn’t do it, he refused to do it. And maybe if he weren’t heir, then it would go to someone who deserved it more than him.

Draco was the next oldest male after all, and if he knew anyone could proudly carry on as the head of the house, then it would be him. He would be able to run the politics that Slytherins did so well. he would be able to hold the family up high and turn them around to bring a greater change.

And it wasn’t as if he didn’t want to reform the family, because if he could, he would. He was so proud of his grandfather for carrying more about their family than he did about blood purity. He was so proud of his grandfather for allowing Andromeda to marry the love of her live, even if he did post stipulations that he didn’t completely understand either. It wasn’t as if it really mattered, was it? Like sure, family magic was powerful, but did Ted claiming his heritage really make up for the “inferiority” that other purebloods were sure muggleborns had?

If he had to be a head of the house, then he would want to be like his grandfather. To fight for what was right over what was expected. It was the duty of the Lord of the house to make sure that his family was well cared for, wasn’t it? That they were happy and lived well lives. Why would he want to do anything otherwise which would mean his family were unhappy?

But it also meant being fair. That happiness couldn’t triumph what was right. And that sometimes making sure that he did the right thing wouldn’t make everyone happy. Especially his parents. For if he ever were to successfully gain the Black lordship, then he was absolutely certain that there was no way his parents would ever be happy with his choices and the things he would do.

The Black family was a Dark family. That didn’t make them evil or villains, but their magic to its core was dark in nature. And there was nothing he could do to change that, nor would he want to. They woulde always be dark, as it was who they were.  But that didn’t mean they had to subscribe to typically dark agendas. They didn’t have to follow dark lords, just as all light families didn’t have to follow light lords. They didn’t need to cause pain or harm others. They didn’t need to ostracise others based on their blood.

He wanted them to be better. He wanted to guide them to a path of that would reform the black name. he wanted them to fight for what was right, and not what was always done in the past. Toujours Pur, or Always Pure. His mother liked to say it had to do with blood purity, that their family could trace back their lines so far in history and that there was not a drop of muggle blood anywhere in it. However, his grandfather had told him otherwise as a kid. That it meant always fighting for their family and their survival. That their intentions to the family must never be anything but pure, and they must put family first, beyond anything else.

And that was what he wanted to do. He wanted his brother and his cousin to live lives they wanted to, not because they were Black sons, but because they were their own person. He wanted them to never worry about having to be someone they weren’t. He wanted Andromeda to be happy with her newfound family, and not have to worry about anything as she had in the past with the fear of her parent’s disapproval. He wanted Narcissa to get married to whomever she wanted, and not take over a betrothal contract because Andromeda backed out. He wanted Bellatrix, even with all her cruelty, to find happiness, even if it meant her never having a family of her own, if it were what she wanted.

He wanted his family to flourish, and not grow extinct, which was something he had once feared.

He would fight for his family, and fight for them to have better futures than the ones their parents wanted for them.

Draco, if to say in the least, was very confused.

It was strange to see the sight in front of him, as Andromeda and Ted sat in his family home, chatting with his parents as if they hadn’t spent the last year disapproving of the marriage between the two.

And stranger than that, his mother was holding Nymphadora in her arms, beaming at her granddaughter while Nymphadora slept peacefully.

As the youngest child of his parents, it was fair to say that he did not have any memories of his mother holding him or any of his siblings as a child. Nor did he have any memories of his parents being any sort of caring parental figures to them growing up. He spent more time with nannies and house elves than he did his own mother.

And yet, watching her coo over her granddaughter, Druella Black looked to be nothing but a doting grandmother, one who cared about her granddaughter, despite throwing a fit a year ago about the fact that her grandchildren would be halfbloods.

He wondered if anything was different due to the fact that Ted had claimed his lineage. Because while he did have his family magic, it didn’t change his blood status. All that it meant was that Nymphadora had the family magic of two powerful families instead of one as she did in the last time line.

Bellatrix, not to his surprise, was sulking in a corner, looking displeased at how quickly his family had turned over and welcomed the new additions to the family. She had shriveled her nose up when Andromeda asked her if she would like to hold her niece, and pointedly looked elsewhere any time Ted had tried to engage her in any sort of conversation. And if their mother or father noticed, they didn’t say anything to discourage her rudeness.

Even Sirius looked at peace when it was his turn to hold his niece, grinning brightly any time she as much as looked at him, and making sure everyone knew that she had done so, and insisting that Regulus and he took pictures of Sirius and the baby so he could send copies to the boys, wanting them all to see how adorable Nymphadora looked.

It was amusing to say in the least, to see how a baby could wrap their entire family around it’s fingers before she could even talk.

Arcturus was particularly pleased about the gift of metamorphmagus re-emerging, as it was a trait they had thought to be long since extinct from their family. He had held her up, proclaiming her to be a true Black as such, and that her generation would change their family forever. That the marriage of Ted and Andromeda had perhaps saved their family from losing their family magic and abilities forever.

And even Cygnus Black, who hadn’t had much to say until that point, looked particularly pleased.

For while Andromeda had thrown a bludger in their plan of aligning their family with the Malfoys, Narcissa had agreed to take over that marriage, and Andromeda had proved her marriage to be truly worthy.

It was utter shite, if he were honest. A family so proud of their son-in-law and granddaughter when they wouldn’t have hesitated to kill them if Arcturus hadn’t intervened.

But Andromeda was happy, and that’s all that was all that mattered to him. She wouldn’t have to know the same injustices as last time. And if they were to succeed, she wouldn’t lose everyone she cared about to the fight against Voldemort. He wouldn’t allow it.

When it was his turn, he gingerly took his goddaughter in his arms, holding her carefully as he looked down at her. He never got to know his cousin in his past life, but from what Hermione and Harry had told him about her, she was an amazing person. She was snarky, clumsy, caring, and a strong fighter. She wouldn’t hesitate to kick anyone’s ass if they said something she disagreed with. She was strong and fought for those she loved.

It was strange to think about, that this baby in his arms would one day marry Remus Lupin, the same boy who was a year older than him, shy, but never hesitating to make sure that those around him knew how valued they were. He never judged Draco for his House or his family, only caring about the kind of person he was.

And if his niece had to marry anyone that much older than her, he was glad it was Remus Lupin, for the man, despite his own insecurities, loved whole heartedly and fully. If anyone would treat his niece well, it would be her.

She didn’t deserve the pains of her last life. She didn’t deserve to lose her father, or to be killed by her aunt because of her blood status. To die beside her husband, leaving her son behind. She didn’t deserve any of that, and he promised her, in that moment, he wouldn’t let her know a second of pain.

He would look out for his goddaughter, making sure she never faced and of the pains she did in the last time line. And while he wanted to save his sister, to turn her away from horrors of Voldemort, if Bellatrix turned into the same deranged monster she was the last time around, then he wouldn’t hesitate to be the one who put her down. She had killed so many people, including her sister, her niece, tortured Hermione and the Longbottoms, and so many others. He wanted to save Bellatrix, he really did. But he would put his family first, beyond anyone else. And he would take down anyone who threatened to hurt them, even if it was his own sister.

Nymphadora Cassiopeia Tonks would not know the horrors that she had faced before, not if Draco Black had anything to say about it. And that he promised the little bundle in his arms.

Chapter Text

Hermione was pleased to say that for her second official Christmas with the Potters, it was her who woke up first. Unlike the past year, where James had rushed in eagerly into her room, it was her who woke up first and woke up her brother.

She couldn’t help it; she had been up all night, wondering about Draco and the fact that he would be meeting his niece for the first time. What would it be like for her, growing up as a proper black, and not and outcast to the family? What would it actually change for the Black family?

She knew it was something they wanted to have happen. To have Andromeda stay in the family. And while they could run all the calculations of what likely scenarios were, it was hard to predict what exactly would happen with each turn of events as they made changes to the timeline and the events that were about to unfold.

She watched the snow fall outside from her bed, wondering how things would turn out. Wondering exactly when changes would make the timeline so different that her knowledge of the past no longer held true. She wondered when things would change beyond recognition and when she would finally feel as if they truly were making some sort of difference.

So when the clock hit six, she stood, unable to stay in bed any longer. And she knew it was only a matter of time before James woke up as well and was dragging her and their parents out of bed. She put on some house robes, tied her hair up, and walked to James’ room before jumping on his bed to wake him up. It was something she remembered doing so many years in the past, jumping on her older brother’s bed to wake him up whenever she was excited about anything; her fourth birthday, Christmases, James’ birthdays, book releases, and so many more.

“Hermione?” her brother said sleepily, confused for a moment before bolting up. “Merlin, what time is it? How late did I sleep in for?”

“It’s six,” she beamed at her brother, “Presents time!”

He smiled widely, before throwing off the covers and grabbing his own robes before barrelling into their parents’ room to wake them up. And less than ten minutes later, their entire family was gathered in front of the fireplace, hot cocoa in their hands, and presents laid out neatly in front of them. Her mother was sitting on the chaise, leaning against her father, and Hermione was on the floor her own presents in front of her.

She opened her own presents slowly, a book on muggle history from Lily, something they had discussed greatly in depth a few times, a potions book from Severus, chocolates from Remus, and a book on the world’s greatest pranks from Sirius, insisting she had the knowledge, she just needed to learn how to apply it. And if she joined them, the five of them could cast the greatest pranks. It amused her to no end how eager Sirius was for her to join their pranks.

Regulus had sent her a new set of quills, charmed to last longer, and she smiled at the boy’s thoughtfulness, clearly noticing how quickly she went through quills when stressed.

It was Draco’s present to her however, which stood out. A locket, and when she opened it, the picture made her heart stop. Inside was Harry, Ron, and her, from third year. It made her heart stutter fondly at the sight of her friends, as she picked up the note beside it.

Hermione,

I picked up a few mementos before we left, figuring it was a one-way trip. And while I am not the most sentimental, I know how much they meant to you. To anyone else, it will appear to be a picture of all of us from the summer, which you can see too if you tap the locket twice with your wand. I know it won’t be the same when we get to see our loved ones again, but hopefully this way you can always carry a piece of them with you.

Draco

She swallowed hardly trying not to cry. How could she explain to her family it was because she missed their grandson and her brother’s son, who she was best friends with in another life? It was such a thoughtful gift, and she had no words.

“Is that from Draco?” James asked her, expressionlessly. She turned it to him, and he smiled lightly as he saw the picture inside of it.

James handed her a box and she unwrapped it slightly surprised to see that he had given her a journal, split into sections for different sorts of musings.

“I thought it would be nice for you, to be able to write down everything you are feeling, thinking, any sort of musings, even if school based. I know one day you’re going to be famous for something, and when that happens, it would be nice to chronicle how you got there. For you to look back on from time to time,” James explained.

She grinned, kissing her brother on the cheek, “I love it, Jamie.”

He smiled widely at that.

“We have a few things for the two of you too,” her mother said, as she pulled out two presents that were not on the ground with the rest of them. “The two of you are old enough now, and we wanted you to be able to have these.”

Her mother handed her and James their respective boxes. She watched as James unwrapped his first, and pulled out the Cloak of Invisibility, which she had seen Harry use on countless occasions.

“Is this an Invisibility Cloak?” James asked, holding up one of the Deathly Hallows. “Merlin that’s so cool!”

“It’s a family heirloom,” their father explained, “Passed down to me from my father, and to his from his father. It’s been in our family for years, and now I’m passing it on to you.”

She didn’t feel jealous of her brother. The cloak was his birth right after all. And one day it would be Harry’s.

“Open yours, Hermione,” her brother prodded her. “What did you get?”

Gingerly, she unwrapped it, and pulled out a ring with a black stone in the centre, and ancient markings engraved on it. “Is this?” she breathed, unsure of whether it could be the famous ring.

“The Ring of Dispel,” her mother nodded, “One of the few magical items capable of dispelling almost all enchantments. It belonged to Lancelot, given to him by the Lady of the Lake. It’s been passed down my family for centuries, and I wanted you to have it. It won’t keep you safe from unforgiveables but will protect you from most other things.”

She looked at her mother, speechless. She had no idea such an artefact belonged in the Potter family, and that now it belonged to her.

“Merry Christmas, my darlings,” her mother said fondly, smiling at them both.

“Merry Christmas, Mum, Dad,” she said, beaming back at the two of them. James grinned brightly, and in that moment, Hermione decided that no matter what uncertainty the future held, she would face it surrounded by people she loved.

Draco probably shouldn’t have been surprised when his older sister cornered him in his room a few days before he was set to return to school. After all, he had been successfully avoiding her since the ritual, shy of a few bursts of small talk, or nods of acknowledgement here or there.

Not that it was that weird for them; they never had a relationship that was filled with the two of them talking frequently. She enjoyed making his life miserable, even as a child, and Draco enjoyed having nothing to do with her.

So when Bellatrix showed up, in his room, he could help but raise his guard up, unsure of what she could possibly want from him.

“Draco, packing for school I see?” She said, sauntering into his room.

“Bella,” he said curtly, giving her no more of an acknowledgement than that.

“Is that any way to greet your oldest sister?” she asked him, raising a brow curiously at him.

“I apologise,” he said, stiffly, “I just was not expecting you in my room.”

Especially given the last time he had talked to her, he was begging her not to murder his mother.

“No matter,” she shrugged, as she sat down on one of his chairs. “I have more important things to discuss with you after all.”

“Such as?” he asked her, confused as to what she could want with him.

“The future of our house,” she said bluntly. “And where you come into play.”

He said nothing. It’s not like she could know his true intentions of why he had returned to the past. Not like she could know the truth behind his appearance and why he even existed. Meaning she was here for only one thing.

“Explain,” he directed her, and she grinned lazily.

“We both know that Sirius Black is not fit to be the heir of this house. His parents know it, Regulus knows it, and you know it. And as the next eldest male, that puts you in the direct line of succession for the Head of the House.”

“Yes, but Sirius still is the current heir,” he pointed out to her.

“For now,” she said nonchalantly. “It’s only a matter of time before he does something reckless and gets kicked out of the family. We both know that much. And when that happens, you will step in and be the new heir.”

“You’re assuming he’ll get kicked out,” Draco said, knowing fully well that he would be damned before he let that happen to his elder cousin.

“Please. He won’t last the next five years before he acts brashly. He is not fit to lead this family, Draco. But you are. You have always been the epitome of the perfect Black. You would take the mantel with far more grace than he would ever be able to achieve. You would be able to raise this family to levels they never have seen before.”

She paused for a moment. “Arcturus is growing weak in his old age. He is ruling more with the heart than the mind. And if we continue down this fruitless path, our family will fall to ruins. We will lose everything, our standing, our name, our dignity. And we will lose everything it means to be the Ancient and Noble House of Black. I can’t let that happen, Draco. Andromeda has already been a disappointment to this family, and yet she has been embraced, even with her half-blood child, when she should have been married for a true cause to someone worthy. You can change this, Draco. You can set the Black family back onto the path of righteousness. You can save us from losing everything.”

“What is it you want me to do?” he asked her warily, knowing she could be going in several different ways.

“We both know something is coming, something bigger than the both of us. And it will revolutionize the world. And when that time comes, I want your support as the Heir of the House Black, when this time comes. I want your support for future endeavours, which may not be approved of by Arcturus, and definitely will not be approved of by our blood traitor cousin. I want you to support me in this.”

He pulled away slightly, knowing fully well what she meant. She wanted his support for when she decided to join Voldemort. She wanted him to say that she accepted the choices and actions of that monster, and the devastation that he would bring in his wake. She wanted him to support her actions which would eventually lead to her murdering half their family.

And more importantly, it meant she was most likely already in contact with Lord Voldemort, or at least she would very soon.

“What sort of endeavours?” he asked her, keeping his voice leveled, needed to know exactly what she knew, and what was happening. If Voldemort was recruiting more heavily, they needed to know.

She waved him off, however, “You’ll know in time, Draco. But for now, at least think about it. Watch the Prophet in the coming months and leave your ears open. And when I ask you for this favour in the future, I hope you grant it to me.”

And with that, she left his room, leaving him fuming that she could even ask him for such a thing.

When Hermione returned to school in January, she honestly could say she wasn’t expecting her brother to begin trying to court Lily with full force, as if he wanted to be set, come Valentine’s day.

And honestly, it was absolutely ridiculous, watching him do so. It was ridiculous watching him send her extravagant gifts, big boxes of chocolates, and dozens of lilies every single day. And it was only when their mother intervened and cut off his spending money for the sake of harassing poor girls did he stop. And instead he tried just asking her in person.

It seemed, however, as if love was in the air for more than one couple beyond James and Lily.

It happened near the end of January, when Frank Longbottom stood up, shakily, and headed over to where some of the girls in her year were sitting, and asked Alice Prewett if she would accompany him to the special Valentine’s day Hogsmeade trip, where older students were allowed to invite some of the younger years if they wished.

Alice had turned bright pink but had nodded rapidly as she said yes.

At their young ages, Hermione knew it was a very childlike love, in which both parties would probably be far too immature for anything serious. But with time, they would grow, and they would fall ever so deeply in love. And in less than a decade, they would give birth to Neville Longbottom.

It was endearing to see, the parent of her classmate ask the other out, beginning their relationship.

Her mind flashed to the thought of them both lying in St Mungo’s, neither remembering just who the other was, or who their son was. It broke her heart, to know Bellatrix would torture them into insanity for no good reason. It broke her heart to know that Neville, perhaps, suffered more than any of them.

“That’s so romantic,” Lily sighed wistfully, as she watched Alice and Frank eat together. He was grinning brightly, and despite Alice’s shy nature, she was smiling excitedly as they ate their meal. “Can you imagine what it must feel like to have a first love like that? Where you are so consumed with each other, that nothing else matters at all? I want that; to feel so utterly in love with something, that I want to spend the rest of my life with them. To just know, that they are the one for me, no matter our age. To know that the two of us were meant to be, soulmates.”

“It would be nice,” she found herself agreeing, before sighing. Romance was a part of life, and she knew that her peers all around her would slowly fall in love. But her? She had a greater mission at hand. She had to stop the evillest wizard in history from rising and slowly destroying the world. There was no time for her to fall in love. No time for her to experience childhood crushes. Besides, she had already had a childhood the first time around. She didn’t need to experience the concept of a first love again. There would be plenty of time to consider dating once she had brought down Voldemort.

She pushed her food around on the plate, trying to lighten her own mood.

“But you know, if you really did want to experience a romance like that, James does have a crush on you. I’m sure if you gave him a chance he would be more than happy to woo you like that,” Hermione teased, knowing that Lily Evans fully well was not ready to fall for her brother. Not yet, anyways.

Her eyes darkened at that, “I’d rather be a spinster for the rest of my life than end up with James Potter.” She looked over at Hermione, seeming to have realized that she just insulted her brother. “No offense. I love you, Hermione. But I don’t think I could ever stand the thought of being with him. Not given everything that has occurred between us. He might not be as much of a tosser anymore, but he’s still a righteous prat.”

Hermione laughed at that.

“How can you be so cavalier about it,” Lily blanched, “He’s your brother. Doesn’t it weird you out that he’s interested in anyone? I don’t even want to think about the thought of my sister seeing anyone. It’s too strange.”

Hermione smirked, “Because if you were to date my brother, then you could be my sister. And I love my brother to death, but I wouldn’t mind having a sister from time to time. It would be nice, you know, to not have to talk about Qudditch all the time, or which broom is the best.”

James sat down beside her just then, “Do my ears deceive me or is my little sister, the most important person in the world to me, saying she wishes I weren’t in her life.”

She rolled her eyes at his teasing tone, as she bumped into her brother lightly. “Prat. You know I wouldn’t trade you for the world.”

He grinned brightly at that, “I know, Hermione. Besides, you’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not.”

She laughed at that and shook her head. “Merlin help me then.”

Lily laughed at that, and she couldn’t help but notice how closely Lily seemed to be watching the interaction between the two of them, as if she were trying to process what was happening.

When Fleamont Potter married Euphemia Black, he was well aware of her heritage and what the Black family stood for. He understood that the head of the house at the time, Sirius Black II, hated muggleborns and half-bloods alike. And that he was only giving Fleamont permission to marry Euphemia due to the fact that her brother had been successful in convincing Sirius, Euphemia’s father that match with the Potter house would be a strong alliance.

And if it were simply for politics, then Fleamont would have rejected the marriage quicker than one could say Godric Gryffindor.

But Fleamont Potter had fallen in love with Euphemia Black when they were in school. He had loved her throughout the years and had confessed as much to her when he was in his sixth year of school.

He had been absolutely astounded at the fact that she loved him back, and that in coming months, when he had proposed, that she had accepted.

Marrying Euphemia Black, however, meant that he was now connected to the Black family.

It was why every now and then he and the current head of the house would exchange correspondence letters.

And it was why Fleamont Potter now found himself in the home of Euphemia’s brother, the one who had convinced Sirius II to let him marry his daughter, and the current head of the house, Arcturus Black.

The letter had come a few hours ago, containing the Black Family seal, and requesting an audience for an urgent matter.

“Lord Black,” Fleamont said, stepping out of the floo and into Arcturus’ private chambers.

“Lord Potter,” Arcturus said formally, as he gestured to his desk. “Please, take a seat.”

Fleamont complied, and Arcturus sat silently for a few moments. He poured out two glasses of firewhisky and placed one before him and took the other in his hand

“Forgive me, I am trying to find the words to properly discuss the situation we are in,” Arcturus said after a moment.

“Start from the beginning,” Fleamont said to him. “And tell me what happened.”

“You must be aware of the whispers,” Arcturus said, “That there is someone in the shadows, recruiting members from prominent families, families that have dark ties. Families that are legacies of Slytherins. That have purebloods lines so old that they can be traced back to the time of Merlin himself.”

“I have heard these claims,” Fleamont stiffened, unsure of where his brother-in-law was going with this.

“Then you know that it is only a matter of time before they come to my family. I have no doubt that the younger members of this group with begin trying to sway younger members of my house. Young Andromeda will want nothing to do with this. And Narcissa will believe such fighting to be uncouth for a woman, it was the way her parents raised her. Sirius, Merlin help us all, is too much a Gryffindor to believe in such nonsense. But Bellatrix believes in such dark notions. And Regulus may be swayed if his parents can convince him that it is the right thing to do. I can honestly say though, that I have no idea where Draco stands. He will come for my house, Fleamont, and he will destroy it.”

Fleamont remained silent.

“We both know it will get a lot worse,” Arcturus continued, “He will try to bring down our society as we know it, for some twisted sense of radicalism. He will expose us to the muggle world and try to subjugate them. He will destroy us all, if we give him the power to do so. And I cannot allow this to happen, Fleamont.”

“What do you need from me?” Fleamont asked after a moment, “The Potters are a light family. We will not align with such causes. We do not support such causes. And we will fight it with everything we have.”

“Good,” Arcturus nodded. “That is exactly what you must do. Align with the Light families if you must. But convince them not to join such radical notions.”

“We both know this is not the real reason you asked me here,” Fleamont told him, stiffly.

“You’re right,” Arcturus smiled wryly. “You always were perceptive. I know you can sense it, Fleamont. How could you not, as the Head of your house. The magic in Hermione Potter is off, as if she belongs, but doesn’t quite. There’s something different about her, and it shows in her magic, and in her actions.”

He didn’t know what to say at that, “My wife and I were blessed to have a child once in James. And we were blessed a second time by magic itself to have Hermione. It does not matter to me if her magic is different, she is my daughter. And I will not have you digging into my house matters.”

“You forget that your wife is my sister. That Hermione Potter is my niece,” Arcturus reminded him firmly. “I do not pry because I wish to harm your family, Lord Potter. I simply state the truth. That her magic is off. And I know this, because the magic of my cousin’s grandchild, Draco Black, is just as off as hers. There is something different about the two of them, and I have a feeling that whatever it is, is tied into all of this.”

Fleamont took a moment to process this, unsure of what to say. He and his wife knew something was different about their daughter, but it never mattered to him. How could it when magic had blessed them twice after being so unlucky for so many years. He loved his son and his daughter. And it didn’t matter to him if something was different about his daughter. She was still his, and he would not treat her any differently because of that.

“I suppose only time will tell,” Fleamont said, as he raised his glass of firewhisky to his lips and took a long sip.

Chapter Text

She didn’t hear another word about having a chance to make a change until one day in February until Roldophus showed up at her doorstep saying the Dark Lord required a meeting at that precise moment.

She was lucky her parents were asleep at that moment, for while she didn’t believe they would strictly oppose her actions, she hardly wanted to risk it. Besides a man visiting her late at night would be enough for them to be unhappy with her and may in itself be enough to bar her from going.

She was filled immediately with a sense of excitement, knowing that such a meeting was something she had been waiting for, for months on end. To have a chance to meet up with the man who would save them all from the way their society was crumbling beneath their feet.

Bellatrix took a deep breath, as she took a step into the Lestrange family manor, where the meeting would take place.

“I see you have brought her here,” she heard a deep voice call out as she entered the study of Rodolphus’ father.

“I have, My Lord,” Rodolphus said, bowing his head down. “She was eager to meet you. And as I have said in the past, I think Miss Black would be most helpful in assisting our cause, especially given her familial ties.”

“Is that so?” Lord Voldemort asked, as he turned to appraise the woman in front of him. She felt a shiver of anticipation flow over her, filling her entire body.

He was a handsome man, and that was one of the first things she noticed, as shallow as it may be. He stood tall in the room, and his features were well defined by his age, despite being over thirty years her senior.

She could feel the very power radiating off of him, and it was enthralling, captivating, as she stood in his presence.

He didn’t say anything to her, and she knew he was waiting for her to speak first. To prove herself worthy of his time and his cause.

“The world all around us is falling,” she said softly, “Mudbloods continue to infiltrate our society and climb up our ranks. They marry into our families and taint our lines. And we lose ourselves slowly by allowing them to do so. We are losing our history, our heritage, and our customs, by letting them do so. Even at Hogwarts, we celebrate Halloween instead of Samhain. We celebrate Christmas instead of Yule. We are losing our traditions. And Dumbledore is enabling it to happen. What happens in ten years from now? Twenty? Or even a hundred? Will any of our pure families still stand, or will we lose ourselves entirely? Why should we have to change our ways for them? When they are unworthy to bear our magic, to even consider themselves in the same rights as we do. They want to change our world, to make us more muggle. Why should we bend to the whims of mudbloods when we were the ones who are on the top? And rightfully so.”

“Was it not your grandfather who recently approved for your sister to wed a mudblood?” Lord Voldemort said, raising a brow at her simply.

“He was wrong,” she seethed. “He should have blasted her from the family for disgracing our ancient family like that. He should have killed the mudblood and barred her from the family. Instead now I have a half-blood spawn as a niece, and our family is slowly moving away from the values we held so dearly for years. I need to save our family before it is too late.”

“You were right, Rodolphus,” Lord Voldemort said, as a cold smile filled his face, “She is feisty indeed. She would be a valuable asset to our cause. If we can channel such energy in other directions, in the direction of our enemies, then we will have a most worthy ally on our side.”

If she hadn’t been conditioned since birth to never let what a man says affect her poise, she nearly would have preened under his attentions. To have a man so noble, with blood so ancient as his, deem her to be worthy of joining his cause and to help save the world from those who sought to bring it to ruin.

“Indeed,” Rodolphus said, giving her a look, which could only be described as lust. Not that she could acknowledge it. Rodolphus was a decent enough man. But with the Heir of Slytherin himself in front of her, how could she even attempt to look anywhere else? With the man who commanded as much power as he did, it was impossible to even consider setting her attentions elsewhere.

“So what do you say, Bellatrix Black,” her Lord’s voice carried over to her, as he walked over to stand right in front of her. “Would you like to stay complacent and watch as families such as your own fall to despair as mudbloods take over our world slowly, and try and leave it in ruins? Or would you like the chance to fix the cracks in our society and make our world whole once more? Do you want to join me and my men and have a chance to make the wizarding world a better place for all of us and for generations to come, ridding the world once and for all of the very vermin who try and bring us to our knees? Do you want to join me and be a part of the change which will save us all?”

She held her breath through his speech, not wanting to say anything, unable to say anything, as she was filled with a tremor of anticipation, of admiration, of lust, all for the man standing tall over her.

“I do, My Lord,” she said, bowing her head eagerly in front of him. “I want to join you and be a part of this new world that you will bring for us all.”

His lips curled upwards, and she knew that things from there on out would never be the same. And she was ready for it.

It wasn’t often that Peter Pettigrew found himself without the company of his friends.

Well, that was a statement which rang through for his first year of school, and for the majority of his second. But by third year, it was a position he found himself in more and more often.

It wasn’t completely their faults, this time, he supposed. Remus usually spent most of his time studying, even before Hermione Potter entered the picture. So he supposed it was unfair to blame her this time for his friend’s lack of presence, given that he would be in the library with or without her.

James and Sirius had found themselves in quidditch practise once more, and it was somewhere they spent the majority of their evenings now, it seemed. As chasers on the team, both boys were required to spend time with the team practising.

And as such, Peter Pettigrew was once again left to his own devices.

It was something he had grown up experiencing. His parents were often too busy to spend time with him, as it was far more important to try and put food on the table. And he hadn’t had very many friends growing up, being as shy as he were. So he was far too used to spending time on his own as he tried to pass the days by before he came to school.

It was hard though, coming to school and having friends who did care about him, but were all too quick to forget him when other things came up. He was a friend of convenience. A friend who was only there because he roomed with them, and someone they probably never would have noticed if not for that fact.

Because really, would any of them even have noticed him if he wasn’t placed in the same dorm room as them? Or would he be another face in the crowd, watching as the three of them pulled off pranks and jokes. Would he be another person in awe, wanting to be on the inside, but never able to quite get his food through the door?

He honestly could say he didn’t have the answer to that question.

“Well if it isn’t little Pettigrew,” he heard a voice jeer and he looked up in dread to see some older Ravenclaws towering over him, the small chubby boy that he was.

“What do you want?” he asked, feeling himself quiver, fear setting in him.

“Where are your so-called friends?” one of the boys said, a cruel smile filling his face, “Are they too busy trying to figure out who to torture next with their stupid pranks?”

“Their pranks aren’t stupid! They’re brilliant!” Peter defended, because while he wasn’t always involved with the magic behind them, he helped the boys carry them out. And he was proud to say he had some part in it, regardless of how big his part might be.

“Their pranks are a bloody nuisance,” Another one said, “Do you know how much of our time it wastes? It’s our OWL year, and instead of being able to study peacefully, those boys are running around making a ruckus of things. How are any of us supposed to pass if we can’t even get through the day without breaking out into rhymes.”

He tried to hide a grin as he thought back at the prank they were talking about.

“They probably didn’t want to hang out with him,” the third boy said, “Why would they after all? It’s not like Pettigrew is the epitome of knowledge. Merlin knows they only put up with him because it would be too awkward for them to tell him to bugger off. It’s not like he truly has anything to contribute to the table. Potter and Black have their Quidditch skills, and Lupin, despite his unfortunate house choice, is rather brilliant. But Pettigrew here? What does he really offer them?”

“I’m their friend,” he whispered, and the boys laughed at that.

“Of course you would want to be their friend. It’s beneficial for you. But for them? You’re probably a nuisance that they haven’t been able to get rid of,” The first boy said again, and Pettigrew felt his stomach sink.

“Is there a problem here?” he heard Avery’s voice carry out, as he and Nott approached the group.

“Avery,” the third boy said, “Just showing this little Gryffindor what his place is.”

“Well I suggest you stop,” Nott said coldly, “Bullying is intolerable. And how do you think the rest of our house will react when I tell Flitwick what Avery and I stumbled upon you boys doing and he takes points off of your house? I hardly expect they’d be pleased.”

“You should leave,” Avery told the boys firmly, “Before we make you.”

“Is that a threat,” the middle boy asked, and Avery gave him a cold look.

“I don’t think you want to find out, do you?” Avery asked him.

The boys looked a little stunned for a moment before shrugging.

“Whatever. He’s not worth it anyways. Let’s just go,” one of them said, and the boys turned around, leaving him and the Slytherins behind.

“Thank you,” Peter said in a soft voice. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“You don’t deserve to be bullied,” Nott countered. “You are not inferior, Pettigrew. And if you were in our house, we wouldn’t let anyone treat you that way. We wouldn’t let anyone speak to one of our friends like they were trash.”

“Besides, they were wrong,” Avery said looking at him, “We all know how powerful you are, but you. It seems that you just need to believe that you are capable.”

He thought about correcting them. It wasn’t as if they were right after all. And even his friends, for all the ways they made him feel welcome, had never told him that he was powerful or brilliant. But these Slytherins, were looking at him filled with earnest and without a hint of trying to mock him.

And for how alone he had felt before, he felt now like maybe he wasn’t all that alone anymore.

It was February when Hermione felt the worries of the world weighing on her shoulders once more. February when she watched Remus suffer through yet another painful full moon, on his own, clawing at himself, desperate to rid himself of the monster within him. It was February when she felt her heart drop knowing it would still be years before the wolfsbane potion was released, and at least another two before her brother and his friends figured out how to join Remus on his monthly transformations.

It was February when she decided it was time to do something about it, so Remus wouldn’t have to spend another month of his life on his own, feeling scared and alone, as he went through the pain process of transformations.

It was February when she finally proposed the idea to Draco, tired of feeling helpless each month of watching him go through it alone and wanting him to know that she was planning on doing something they hadn’t planned before. That she wanted to make a change, not because it would impact the future and save them, but because it was the right thing to do, and it was absolutely something she felt she needed to do.

It was how she found herself, closing her book at their private study table that they went to for discussion on their progress, and discussion as to what things needed to happen next. Where they did calculations over and over to see if they were actually coming close to succeeding in changing the future.

“I want to become an animagus,” she said softly, as she looked up Draco, crossing her arms in front of her on the desk.

He looked up from his parchment just then, blinking as he seemed to be processing what she had just told him.

“You want to become an animagus?” he repeated, questioning what she had just said.

“Yes,” she nodded, “I think it would be beneficial, as it is a rather useful skill to have under one’s belt. And it would certainly give us an advantage in the coming years. Especially if no one knows what we can do, not truly. I think it a worthwhile venture to explore.

“And it has nothing to do with the fact that Remus Lupin is a werewolf and by becoming an animagus you would be able to run around with him each month,” he said dryly, and she closed her mouth just then.

“I’m tired of watching him hurt himself month after month,” she confessed. “I hate seeing him get hurt because he hates himself for what he is. I hate seeing him withdraw from us because he is filled with so much pain and sadness each month. And I hate seeing him go down to Madam Pomfery’s alone, not wanting to burden any of us with the knowledge of his pain.”

“Your brother and his friends will join him soon,” Draco reminded her, “In just over a year. He’s in third year, and we know that sometime in his fifth year he figures it out. So in a little while, Remus will no longer be alone. And soon after wolfsbane will be invented, and I already know you are planning on making it for him once the potion is released and you no longer have to pretend that you don’t have any knowledge of how to help him.”

“And is he just supposed to keep suffering until then?” she asked him softly, “It is still over a year on his own. Nearly two, really. I can’t stand by and watch him hurt himself month after month until then. You can’t expect me to be fine with that.”

“Is it really in our best interest to do so?” Draco asked her carefully, “We have so much other things that are much more important. We have things that are a matter of life and death to consider. We need to track the remainder of the horcruxes, find out when Voldemort is recruiting and stop it. We need to train, Hermione. And everything we set out to do is wasted if we get injured, or worse, die, trying to help a werewolf so he doesn’t feel a bit of pain each month. We can’t afford to take this on, Hermione, not with everything else going on. We can’t afford to waste time trying to help a werewolf when so many other lives are at stake.”

“Need I remind you that werewolf is my friend?” she questioned him, “Our friend. Remus Lupin, when I knew him before, was a great man. He was kind, and always tried to help others despite his own suffering. And now I have a chance to help him. To truly help him. And you want me to not do it, because what? It’s inconvenient? What difference does it make trying to save everyone if we lose ourselves in the process? Is every life not worth it? Our entire mission revolves around helping people who were the key to this war. Every single person we have targeted are people who were key players the last time around. And maybe if we help him sooner, we’ll help increase his self-preservation and he won’t take stupid missions from Dumbledore which leads to Sirius thinking he’s a traitor. Maybe it won’t make a difference, or maybe it will make all the difference in the world. Either way, I don’t care. I want to help him, because he is my friend, and he deserves far better than the hand he has been dealt.”

Draco was silent for a moment before nodding slowly, “Fine. If this is something you want to do, then I’ll help you. We’ll learn how to do it together.”

She smiled gratefully at him, and he simply sighed, shaking his head as he returned to his parchment and the work he had been doing, trying to factor in becoming animaguses into their calculations.

Severus Snape went into Hogwarts unsure of what to think. His mother was a pureblood and his father a muggle, and as such, being a half blood in Slytherin did not make him all that popular. Slytherins were pure of blood, and anything less was an outrage, after all Salazar Slytherin himself had left the school due to his hatred of anything less than purebloods.

So his house expected him to denounce all things muggle. They expected him to denounce his father and be properly ashamed of his mother for marrying filth. They expected him to denounce his muggleborn friend, for in their eyes she was unworthy.

It didn’t matter to them that she was his first friend ever, his best friend, his sister. It didn’t matter to them that when he had no one else to turn to, he had her in his life. He had her and he never was alone.

And somewhere in his second year of school he had become friends with a bunch of bloody Gryffindors. And while he hated them for so long, he could see only kindness now in their every action. Somewhere he had gained more friends, and he had gained a family.

He still didn’t like Sirius Black or James Potter, but he supposed now they were far more tolerable than before. He supposed now they weren’t anything more than a mild nuisance.

Except for all the friends he had seemingly gained, he was still in Slytherin. And unlike Draco or Regulus Black, who were around the same people as he, he did not have the comfort of an ancient name or line to help protect his standing in the house. He did not have wealth to lean back on when push came to shove. He was still the half-blood in Slytherin with no wizarding family to protect him from his peers.

It was how he found himself that day, coming back from one of his many trips at the library with Regulus, and then before he knew it, shoved against a wall, with a wand to his throat. He recognized the three boys as sixth years in the house.

“If it isn’t the pet half-blood,” a dark-haired boy said, a smirk filling his face. “Out until near curfew, spending his precious time with mudblood filth and blood traitors.”

“If it wasn’t bad enough that our house was tainted with such trash, you don’t even pretend to denounce them, and try to rise above your station. Instead you sully yourself by sinking lower, to their level. If it wasn’t bad enough that your mother sullied herself with your muggle father, now you do the same by consorting with such trash,” the blond sneered at him. “You could at least pretend to be better. To be loyal to our house instead of running around with such people. At least Black here knows his place in society and knows that he is better than the rest of them. But you? You truly are no better, are you?”

The first boy laughed at that, as they spelled him further into the wall, before dropping him to the ground.

“Choose wisely about the company you chose to keep, Snape. No one can save you if you chose to spend your time with such garbage. However you already know that. I advice you to think about your future carefully. It is us who can give you the connections, the power to succeed. Not them. Even with your unfortunate blood, Slytherins stay together. But can you truly say the same for your Gryffindor blood traitor friends? Will they help you later on in life? Think carefully,” the first boy said as he turned, and the blond followed after him.

Regulus ran over to him, helping him off the ground, “Are you okay, Severus?” Regulus said carefully, as he helped brush Severus off.

He wasn’t though, not really. He was seething in anger, furious that they had been able to come and disgruntle him. Furious that they had the nerve to say anything against Lily, against Hermione Potter and her friends; their friends. Furious that they thought they had the right to interfere with his life.

“They’re wrong, you know. You aren’t a disgrace to our house. You work hard in classes, earning more points than anyone in your year for our house. You study so hard and try so hard. You are worthy of being a Slytherin,” Regulus told him firmly, “They’re just jealous their so-called blood status doesn’t help their stupidity.”

He nearly smiled at that but couldn’t bring himself to do so.

“Will we have to choose one day?” he found himself asking, “Between our house and our families, or our friends and what we believe in? How long will we be able to be friends with those in other houses? Inter House unity is a joke at this school. No one believes in friendship across house lines, not without being accused of being disloyal. How much longer will we be able to survive like this, before we are forced to choose a side?”

“Maybe we don’t have to,” Regulus told him, “It’s the upper years who do not accept your friendship with the Gryffindors. The younger years are curious and intrigued even. And those in your year are confused but no one explicitly has a problem with it. Besides, it doesn’t matter what they think. You can survive in our world, Severus. You’re smart, and you’re dedicated. It will be enough. So be loyal to yourself and let the world deal with it. Forget about them and what they want. If you want to keep being friends with Gryffindors then don’t let anyone stop you from doing so.”

He nodded gratefully at his friend. He had been filled with so much confusion, so much anger lately, and to know that there was someone who supported him, well it made all the difference.

Chapter Text

It was April when Hermione found herself walking down the halls of Hogwarts after a particularly dry Potions class, learning nothing useful or new to them. It was yet another potion that she and Draco already knew how to complete and were once again praised for excelling. How did she explain that while she probably would have succeeded her first time around, she only did so well because she had learned it once before?

Draco seemed nonchalant to the praise, and she knew he was wearing his mask of indifference, as it gave him an air of superiority over the rest of their year. That while he might not have been on the top of Slytherin social structure the same way Draco Malfoy was, by constant boasting and force, but through the use of his brains and the act of indifference that held him up in a higher regard.

And while it had not been a part of his mission to raise through the ranks of Slytherin explicitly, it did help if he was on the top. And it did help if he was explicitly liked. She knew she needed to ask him about it, to see how Slytherins were perceiving him, especially given his not so hidden friendship with her and his older cousin, the Heir who acted anything but Slytherin like. And with an older sister who defied all Pureblood expectations, yet still managed to act with proper decorum.

“Well if it isn’t Hermione Potter and her blood traitor of a Slytherin friend,” she heard a sneer. She looked up to see Magnus Dearsworth, and a few other older Slytherins towering over them.

“Is there something you need?” Draco asked the older Slytherins in a cool manner.

“What we need is for the two of you to learn your place, instead of thinking that you are beyond all the social norms that we have worked so hard to construct. What does it say for house loyalty if you are constantly in the company of those so clearly below us? If you are more loyal to other houses than you are to your own house.”

“If that were true, then I wouldn’t be earning points for our house on a constant basis, would I?” Draco asked, with a roll of his eyes. “Out of everyone in my year, I earn the most points for Slytherin. I’m the reason we are so closely tied with Gryffindor. For while all you do is lose points by attacking other students, I try and actually earn points for us. So this has nothing to do with house loyalty, and everything to do with the fact that you do not approve of my choice of friends. Why don’t you just come out and say it.”

“Your behaviour is hardly appropriate for the heir of your house,” one of the other boys sneered and Hermione crossed her arms.

“We both know I’m not the heir. You lot can want me to be all you want, but unless my grandfather explicitly disowns Sirius Black, he still is the heir.”

“And what’s it to you any ways,” Hermione asked with an air of annoyance. “So what if the two of us are friends. What does it matter to you?”

“Because you are beneath him,” Magnus sneered at her, “The Potters are a family which is slowly losing its way more and more. Your father supports mudbloods in Wizengamot more and more, approving legislation which corrupts our world. And your brother makes a fool of himself, running around like a lovestruck kneazle, chasing that mudblood girl. Your family is losing their way, and they’ve already corrupted the true Black heir. And now you try and ruin their other options? How much longer is it before you ruin the other houses? Slytherin has remained pure for so many years, away from all the other impure houses, and yet you come and in two years, turn our world around. Do you really think that you are deserving of such a thing?”

“All I’ve done is shown people that they can be friends beyond houses,” Hermione said. “I’ve never tried to change their political views. If it has changed as a subsequent result, that is not my fault. You see, it’s rather hard to hate someone for their blood status if you are capable of seeing beyond such matters, and seeing their personality as a more whole concept, versus one single aspect that you insist on focusing on.”

“Because it is the most important part!” Dearsworth yelled out. “It’s what keeps us pure and separates us from those who are less deserving. And if you are not capable of seeing such things, then you are not worthy of the magic that flows through your veins. You are not worthy of your pureness. For you are too corrupt to ever appreciate the pure raw magic you possess. You have been tainted by your Dumbledorian views.”

“I think you’ll find it to be quite the opposite,” she stood firmly, “I do not subscribe to his views, which deems your house to be entirely villains. If I did, why would I be friends with Draco? Why would I be friends with so many others in your house? I value brains and personality over blood status, and nothing more. Just because your backwards mind is not capable of doing the same, does not mean you have a right to harass me for being more accepting.”

“Crucio,” Magnus yelled out, and she felt a sense of panic fill her in the moments before the pain hit her. And when it did, she felt herself fall to the ground, filled with immense pain as she was filled with memories of being hurt as such before, with a mad woman standing above her and her arm being sliced open.

“Stop!” she heard Draco yell before he cast his own spells to stop him from attacking her.

But it was too late, for the darkness succumbed her.

Lily Evans had spent too many days thinking about James Potter. In the beginning, all she could think about was how much she hated the boy with every fiber of her being. How she hated the way he teased them unnecessarily and hurt Severus at every turn. And then Hermione Potter had come along and shown them a side to Potter that she had never seen before. The protective brotherly kind. And she had gotten James to act like a decent human being, one whom she could call a distant acquaintance, perhaps.

And then he decided to begin asking her out.

It had started out small, with him passing her notes in class asking her to go to Hogsmeade weekends with him. And when she had rejected that, he had decided the grander the better.

From filling the Gryffindor table with lilies, each of which had their petals filled with notes asking her out, to conjuring a giant lion that asked her to attend Hogsmeade with him, to casting a hex which made it so everyone she spoke with asked her out on the behalf of James, which could only be broken if she said yes, but only broke when Professor McGonagall furiously threatened James with detention when she had been trying to have a conversation with Lily.

James Potter was no longer the horrendous jerk that tormented her and Severus unrelentingly But he was still an insufferable prat.

She forgot at times, how humane he could be. How he acted when it was someone else’s life on the line, how he would drop everything for that person.

She forgot it all too well, until Regulus Black ran into the Great Hall, only stopping at where James and Sirius were sitting.

“Hermione’s in the Hospital Wing,” Regulus said, in between breaths. “She was hexed by some Slytherins, and lost consciousness.”

He looked like he had more to add, but it didn’t matter. James had thrown down his cutlery and ran out of the Hall before he could finish his sentence, Sirius and Regulus tailing quickly after him.

She felt a sense of dread fill her stomach at the thought of the young girl in the Hospital Wing, and she too pushed away her own plate to go check on the girl.

James Potter was many things; he was filled with many faults to no end, to the point where she wanted nothing more than to hex him sideways. But at the same time, he loved his sister, and for her, he would do anything.

Draco sat by Hermione’s side from the moment he got her to the Hospital Wing. It had taken Professor Flitwick walking by to see Draco battling three older Slytherins for the older boys to finally relent, and for him to be able to get her to safety.

It hurt, seeing her lying there, filled with pain and with anguish. He knew the moment the curse hit her, that she was transported back to that time in home, with his Aunt standing over her.

He could never forget watching her scream out in pain, seeing her pleading eyes, but knowing it didn’t matter for if he tried to help her, they would both die. He could see her filled with so much pain at that moment, that it broke him.

And even once the war was over, she never had time to properly process what had happened. How could she when they were thrown into turmoil once more, so shortly after? How could she even begin to process the pain she had gone through when their lives were once again thrown into disarray?

It was only a few months ago when he was lying in this Hospital Bed, recovering from the cursed book that had left him there. He remembered seeing her panic as she worried both about him, and how to keep their mission safe while Dumbledore and her brother and his cousin constantly tried to pry at what it was that had landed him there.

And now, he was on the other side, watching as she lay in the bed, unconscious from the pain, and hoping she would be okay.

Hermione was many things. She was brave, and courageous, so Gryffindor that she may as well have bled red and gold. She was strong too, and he knew that she would get through this. She had survived his insane Aunt’s torture, she would survive this too.

He took her hand in his, rubbing it softly as he looked down at her.

The two of them had been put in an unfortunate situation, forced to go back to a time where so many they knew or never would know would die from a war yet to come. Forced to rush against the clock and try to change things before it was too late. And they would have no way of knowing if they would succeed. No way of checking the future, to see if things were changing accordingly as a result of their actions. All they could do was keep trying.

“Where is she?” he heard James Potter bellow as he ran into the Hospital Wing. The older Potter spotted Draco instantly and ran over to where Hermione was lying, a look of worry and dread on his face.

“Why isn’t she awake?” James asked him urgently, “What happened?”

“Madam Pomfery put her in a magically induced sleep,” Draco told him, “So she would recover without having to feel the pain from the curse. She won’t be awake until morning.”

James nodded slightly, before he looked down and saw Draco holding her hand. He quickly pulled it away before he could say anything, and James looked like he was torn before reading him the riot act or just letting it go.

He sat down beside Draco, stroking his younger sister’s face tenderly.

Draco couldn’t help but wonder about it, how brotherly the boy was to a younger sister he only had because of the ritual they cast. And yet he filled the role so perfectly, caring for Hermione Potter as if she truly were his sister and not the result of a spell.

It was an hour later when Madam Pomfery came by, to begin kicking out all the guests so her patients could get the proper rest.

“Please,” James begged her softly, “Just let me stay with her. I need to make sure she’s okay. That if she wakes up in the night she won’t be alone. Please just let me make sure she’s okay.”

The Matron looked at him with softening eyes. “Fine, but only you, Potter. The rest of you lot,” she said, referring to the Blacks, Lily Evans, and Remus, who had all been sitting by her side since the news of the attack got out, “need to head to bed. You all do have classes tomorrow.”

James nodded, and as the rest began to leave, Draco lingered.

“You heard Madam Pomfery,” James told him softly, “You need to go to bed too, Draco.”

He felt a bit wary. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust James Potter with his sister’s care. But he didn’t know the truth of what had happened to her in the past. Didn’t know that she had survived torture by his aunt’s hand. That she had gone through a war, and then another one. That they had lost so many people. He didn’t know the true pains that Hermione Granger had endured. And even with a ritual, she was very much alive in Hermione Potter.

“I’ll watch out for her,” James promised him, as he placed a hand on his shoulder, “I’ll be with her all night, I promise. You can come by first thing in the morning to check, Draco. But I’ll keep her safe. And if anything happens, good or bad, you’ll be the first to find out.”

He nodded at that, as he gave Hermione one last look, before turning to leave the Hospital wing for the night.

It was April when Rodolphus came to Bellatrix once more. She sat up instantly as he slid in across from her in a booth at a small pub in Knockturn Alley.

“What is it?” she asked him carefully, “Does He want another meeting? Does he approve of me joining the ranks? Is something happening?”

“No,” Rodolphus said, looking ever so slightly annoyed with her line of questions. “It is nothing of the sort.”

“Then?” she asked him, almost confused, “Why did you want to meet up with me if there is nothing to discuss?”

“There is nothing to discuss regarding you joining his ranks, Bellatrix. But I do have some matters to discuss regarding us.”

“Us?” she asked him, confused, before understanding came to her. “No.”

“You have not yet heard what I have to say,” he said, looking terse.

“And I do not need to,” she said firmly. “I know fully well what you want to say. And I am not interested. I’m not interested in being a society house wife, something you can show off on your arm to all your friends. I have no interest in any of it.”

“Then it’s good that I have no interest in that for you either,” Rodolphus said firmly.

“I will not be your mistress either,” she hissed, remembering his looks of lust that he shot all too frequently and inappropriately in her direction.

“Do you really think I would dishonour you as such?” he sneered back. “I want to marry you Bellatrix. I want to submit an offer to your grandfather for your hand.”

“And I will tell him I do not approve of such a match,” she said haughtily. How could she when she had seen so much pure power in the Lord Slytherin? How could she accept anything less when she knew their Lord could offer her so much more than Rodolphus ever could? How could she even consider him?”

“He’ll never want you,” Rodolphus said breaking her thought process. “Get such foolish thoughts out of your head once and for all. The sooner that you do, the sooner you’ll be happier. He has no interest in marriage or in having his own children. He just wants power. He wants to rule the world, and rightfully so. But if you think he’ll ever want you, as anything other than a pawn which he can send after his enemies, then you are sorely mistaken.”

“Then why would I even consider you, if I cannot have him?” she asked him, annoyed.

“Because I can give you what no other pureblood, worthy husband, will. We both know it’s only a matter of time before your parents demand you get married and refuse to accept no as an answer any longer. Your younger sister has already gotten herself married, even if to an unfortunate partner. And it’s only a matter of time before Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy are married, she just needs to finish school. Which will leave you as a spinster in the eyes of our world if you are not married soon. And as forward thinking as your grandfather may be, refusing to marry all together is still not an option for families such as ours. You know as well as I do that no husband will give you the freedom you crave to pursue your interests. To fight alongside our Lord.”

“And you will?” she snarked, the weight in the truth of his words hitting her. “You will give me that freedom?”

“Yes,” he said simply, “I will not stop you from following your heart. You do not need to love me, Bellatrix. You don’t even need to care for me. Just marry me and give me an heir. And in turn you can do what the others would stop you from doing. You can participate in the revolution that is coming. You can fight for our world and live your life. You just need to agree to marry me.”

She was speechless at first, not knowing what to say. She knew fully well that he was correct. She had avoided marriage so far, but it was only a matter of time before her family began to pressure her. Only a matter of time before they demanded she marry. And her main worry was if she did she would not be able to live the life the way she had wanted to. And here was Rodolphus, giving her the chance to do exactly what she wanted.

“Okay,” she whispered, closing her eyes. “If you make an offer and my Grandfather does not instantly refuse, then I will accept it.”

She was released from the Hospital Wing a day later, despite her brother and Madam Pomfery’s protests that she probably should stay longer to make sure there were no adverse side effects. But how did she tell them that there wouldn’t be, not when she had gone through such pain before and survived. That she would survive this too.

Magnus Dearsworth, the fifth-year student who had taken it upon himself to cast an unforgiveable on her had been expelled immediately. And her father, furious that his daughter had been subjected to such torture for her friend choice, was demanding a full Wizengamot trial for the boy, to be throw into Azkaban for a long sentence, if not life.

She could almost feel sorry for him, his entire future being thrown away for a curse he didn’t even cast with full potent, if she didn’t remember the pain crawling through her body, begging for it all to end.

She would probably be on anti-pain potions for a month, as the lingering sensations still filled her fully from time to time.

“Hermione,” James whispered to her, as he sat beside her. “Meet me tonight at 8 by the statue of the One-Eyed witch in the Hogwarts Turris Magnus Tower.

She gave her brother a sceptical look, “And why would I do that?”

“Because I want to show you something,” he said giving her a grin.

She rolled her eyes, but continued to place some toast onto her plate, as her brother gave her a disapproving look, and piled her plate full of food. She would berate him, but she knew how worried he had been to see her in the Hospital Wing the night before. So she settled on squeezing his hand tightly.

It was a little before 8 that night as she found herself walking up the stairs to the tower. And when the clock struck eight, and her brother didn’t show up, she simply sighed to herself, wondering if he had gotten distracted with some prank or the other.

“Pst Hermione,” she heard a whisper call out, yet no one was around. And if she didn’t know Harry’s tricks all too well with the cloak, she might have been thrown off.

“Where are you hiding, Jamie?” she asked, and he immediately threw off the cloak to grin at her.

“I never can fool you,” he said, as he wrapped the two of them around the cloak, “So no one sees us,” he explained.

She looked up at the statue, as he moved closer and whispered, ‘Dissendium’. As they slid down it, James removed the cloak and she figured it was because it was easier to move down a tunnel if they weren’t both huddled under it, especially given that no one would be able to see them down there anyways.

In all honesty, she had forgotten the passage even existed, until James led her down it.

They walked for a while, before she finally figured she should ask her brother, “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise,” he grinned at her, as he slipped her hand through his, “I’ve been waiting to show you this for a while, and I think now is as good of a time as any.

They emerged slightly later in the cellar of Honeydukes, and James wrapped them under the cloak once more, gesturing to be silent.

As they snuck out of the shop, James dropped off a few gallons for some sweets he took, to cover the cost.

“Are we in Hogsmeade?” she asked her older brother, still surprised that he had chosen to bring her here.

“Yes,” he beamed at her, “I’ve been waiting to bring you here for so long, Hermione. I remember how bummed you were that you didn’t get to go this year when I did, and I wanted to be here with you the first time you experienced the village. And I want to be the one to show you everything.”

She felt her heart swell as he led her through the streets of Hogsmeade, showing her sight after sight, telling her things about the village, some which she knew already from books and her own experience, others which she did not.

Finally, he led her into the Three Broomsticks, sitting her down as he promised to get the two of them drinks, and returned shortly later with some Butterbeers.

“Won’t we be in trouble?” she asked softly, “For being here without permission?”

“Nah,” James shook his head, Rosemerta is pretty fine with Sirius and I. Well probably me a bit more than Sirius since he’s constantly flirting with her to try and get some Firewhisky. But she won’t report us.”

She grinned at that, and he passed her a drink, “So what did you think?”

“It’s brilliant,” she beamed up at him, “It’s everything I’ve ever imagined and more. I can’t believe you brought me here.”

“Of course,” he grinned, “What kind of brother would I be if I didn’t show my sister one of the most magical places in Britain?”

“I do appreciate it,” she said softly, “I know I was a bit immature about being upset that I didn’t get to go. And you went out of your way to make it up to me, even then. You’ve always done that for me. You’ve always been there for me, even when we were children. If I wasn’t old enough to do something, you would find other things that we could do later, so I never felt alone. Even when you left for school, and I couldn’t go yet, you wrote to me every day, so I never felt alone. And I appreciate that so much, James. You’re the best big brother anyone could ask for.”

He smiled at her, “And you’re the best little sister a brother could ask for,” he grinned, “Even if you do have foam all over your face.”

She stuck her tongue out at him as he laughed loudly at that. And it was on days like this where she remembered how truly lucky she was to have James Potter has a brother, ritual or not.

Chapter Text

To say Arcturus had accepted Bellatrix Black probably would never get married was an understatement. He knew his granddaughter would probably hex any male who looked her way, let alone any male who suggested she need to play the role of a society witch.

He knew many a thing about his grandchildren. He knew Andromeda would never be happy to be married off like some sort of prize long before she had brought the matter to him. She was too free, too liberal, even as a child. And for a time, he had been unsure of whether she would approach him when such a time came, or if she would take matters into her own hands to remedy the situation. He supposed however that his second youngest grandchild was to thank for her remaining in the family and not running off in the fear that she would never be accepted.

He also knew that the marriage contract that seemed like a trap to Andromeda would seem like a blessing to Narcissa, who would readily accept such a marriage without as much of a second thought. That it would offer her the life she had dreamed off, of wealth and riches, of a title she could covet and a place in society as the Lady of a house. It would be everything Andromeda would run from and everything Narcissa would dream of.

He knew that his oldest grandson, Sirius, would never be the heir that his parents desired him to be. He would never put blood purity above all else, and instead, like the Gryffindor he was, would chose his loyalty to his heart to guide his actions. And perhaps, with the changing tides of the political world, that would be what was best for their house, if their ancient and noble house had a change in directions. If it was what it took to survive and not go extinct, then maybe it was for the best if their family shed some of their prejudice.

And Regulus, his grandson who only wanted to please everyone. Who only wanted his parents to be happy and his brother’s love. His youngest grandchild had a while to go before he truly found out who he could be as a person without the desire to please everyone in his life and figured out who he was without the restrictions of social guidelines.

Draco Black was another story. He was hard to read and constantly surprising Arcturus with his actions. Such as persuading Andromeda not to leave the family. He knew that it would be a tense couple of years between his Heir and Sirius’ parents, and Sirius fought more and more to be his own person and his parents tried to guide him to the path they believed was right. And he knew he would need to play a more active role to prevent his grandson from being disowned all together. But he knew that if anyone would be more successful in stopping Sirius from running off and disowning himself, it would be Draco, who showed him it was possible to accept their family and his own values.

Bellatrix Black was another story from what her parents wanted for her. She was not like her sisters. She was not Andromeda who would follow her heart in regard to love and damn her family in the process. Nor was she Narcissa who would marry for duty and let love come in the process. And it wasn’t that she wasn’t cut out for love all together, it was that she was not cut out for the life she was forced into, by her own ideals on blood purity, which narrowed down her options, but also her desire to follow her own heart and try and find someone who made her happy.

She was not cut out for such a life, and he had long since accepted that. It was why he had told the story of Cassiopeia, his cousin who did not want to marry, and had cursed herself so she would never have to. Because he did not want his granddaughter to take such extreme measures just to avoid marriage all together. He wanted better for his children, for his grandchildren. He wanted them to be able to achieve their full potential.

And Bellatrix was a powerful witch, who would most likely excel at whatever she put her mind to. If she decided to become an Auror, she would be the fiercest one the Ministry had to offer. If she had decided to go into curse breaking, then not a single spell or curse would be able to stand in her way. She would be able to achieve whatever it was that her mind was set to.

She deserved such a life; despite what her own parents may want for her.

So when he received the formal offer, he was shocked. Shocked that Bellatrix had even allowed such an offer to make its way to him, and that she hadn’t hexed the man who had considered marrying her. He was surprised to receive an offer from an old family, one who he was almost certain would hold Bellatrix to their own ideals of what she would be allowed to do and what she wouldn’t be allowed to do. That she would almost all by be a society wife to the Lestrange Heir, forced to bear him a child and give up any asirpations she had for herself.

Would she even be happy in such a life?

And better yet, did she even know that such an offer had been made for her?

The Lestranges were a dark family; they always had been and always would be. It didn’t say much however, considering that the Blacks were often thought to be just as dark. They had as many skeletons in their own wardrobes. But he knew too with Sirius as the heir of the house, their family would be moving towards a greyer direction. And would such a nature cause conflicts for the future of their two houses? Especially if a union were made?

The Lestranges were also a warrior family, which could be seen in their family. They courted violence and fighting with every turn. And he knew his granddaughter did the same, so in that sense, perhaps it wasn’t all that bad of a marriage proposal. However, he still worried. It wasn’t just the nature of family magic that mattered when attempting to pair two children, their magic had to also be compatible. And with two volatile types of magic, it could often lead to clashing over harmony. It could lead to unhappiness and pain. And if there was no true love between a pairing, be it born from desire, from respect, or from commitment, then magic itself would not bless their union to allow them to have a child. Magic, in its sentient nature, would overrule whatever the individual families wanted and hoped for, and determine the pairing to be unfit.

But it also did not just matter what he thought, or what the Lestranges thought. It mattered what his granddaughter thought. What she wanted and hoped for, for her own future. Did she want to get married at all? Did she consider Rodolphus Lestrange a worthy husband, or would she perhaps hex him until next year for even considering sending in a formal offer for her.

“You wanted to see me, Grandfather,” he heard his oldest grandchild say, as she walked into the room, head held high.

She had grown distant from their family in the past year, and he wasn’t a fool; he knew very well it was because she disapproved of his actions in regard to her sister and believed he had allowed for their family to be tainted. How naïve of a belief, to think that blood purity lay only with who one’s parents were, and not in the magic itself, and the power that came from family magic. But she had changed again in the past few months, holding her head higher, as if she had a new purpose in life. One he had a very good idea about.

“I received a formal offer for your hand, Bellatrix,” he told her as she sat across from him at his study. “I wanted to wait to approach your parents about it until I had spoken to you and listened to your own thoughts on the matter.”

“Oh?” she asked in a tone that showed nonchalance, but he knew she must have known more than she was letting on.

“It is from the Lestrange family. It appears as if their oldest son, Rodolphus, wishes for you to become his bride. He had made an offer for you which is quite generous,” Arcturus said, trying to gage her response.

“Are you going to accept?” she asked, sounding a bit tense at the notion that he would make a decision on her behalf.

“I asked you here for a reason, Bellatrix,” he reminded her. “Not to tell you that you will be marrying him, but to ask if it is what you want. If this makes you happy, then I will let the Lestrange family know that we accept their offer. However, you are given the same liberties as the rest of our family. If you do not want this marriage, then I will decline it and let you be. But the choice lays solely with you.”

She looked slightly taken aback at that, clearly not having expected him to have given her a choice. He watched her take a deep breath before responding.

“I want it, Grandfather. It is a fruitious match, and Rodolphous had agreed to let me live the life I desire over the one that is expected for me. He will let me do as I please as long as I give him a son. And he is one of the few men of good standing who will allow me to live such a life,” she told him, “I’m tired, Grandfather. I’m tired of watching our world fall apart when we belong on the top. When we can make a difference. I want to make the world a better place, and Rodolphus will give me the freedom to fight for what I believe in.”

His eyes widened at that, and he wondered how he had missed it. He had known the darkness was coming, that a war was coming. Yet he had not expected his own granddaughter to be thrown in the midst of it, fighting for a war that will only bring pain and suffering. Fighting in a war that would tear their world apart, over bring it together.

He had seen the war coming for months, knowing fully well that many of the houses that once stood by his side would jump at a chance to rid the world of those they deemed impure. Jump at the chance to follow a man who claimed to be powerful if it meant making the world better.

“Just because you believe you might be making the world better by joining such a cause does not mean it is what is best for our world, Bella,” he warned his granddaughter. “I urge you to think through your actions fully, to think of the consequences fully, before you join such a cause. Think of the lives that will be lost, on both sides. The pain that will occur.”

Her eyes hardened, “It is my life to live, Grandfather. I wish to accept the marriage proposal that was brought to you. And if that is all you have to say on the matter, then I will see you at the next family gathering. Please let my parents know my wishes, so we can proceed with the union. It is rude, after all, to leave such a prominent family waiting for a response.”

He nodded after her, not knowing what else to say. He prayed sense would come to his granddaughter, and that she would not make foolish mistakes; especially those that would tear their family in half as they fought on opposite sides of a war that should never have come.

It was June when Bellatrix stood proudly at the next to her future husband as she watched her Lord stand before them, tall and filled with power.

She felt anticipation shake her very core as she stood around him, wearing dark robes and surrounded by her peers who all believed that he would make a difference in their world, who would save them all from the life they had been thrown into. Who would give them the chance to take their world back and set it on the correct path.

Rodolphus looked over at her, as he watched her captivated face, but she didn’t care. She knew her heart would never belong to him, not truly. How could it when the man in front of her was so spectacular? So powerful and strong? How could anyone else even begin to compare?

It didn’t matter to her that he was older than her. That he was years her senior. All she could see was his beauty, his face aged with grace as he commanded power with so much as a single look. And she wanted to give him everything; she wanted to give him her life, her devotion, her strength. She wanted to fight by his side, and if she died by his side, then so be it. She would be dying to make a difference. To rid the world of mudbloods and muggleborns. She would be dying to make the world better for her children, for their future.

She didn’t care if Rodolphus had her in name and in their marriage. She knew her heart belonged to their Lord. And she would be his in any way he wanted her. She would do anything for him.

How could she not as he had yet to speak a word and she was ready to lie down her life for him? How could she belong to anyone but him?

“My friends,” he spoke, voice booming out around them, filling her with anticipation and excitement, knowing whatever he was about to say would change the world forever. “It is time we stop hiding in the shadows. It is time we stop wanting to make a difference and talking about how different we want things to be, without doing anything to make it different. It time we stop sitting back and watch our world become polluted with those who are unworthy. We watch them come into our world, filled with their muggle ideals, and change our world to be theirs. No more. No more giving up what we want to try and make them comfortable. No more giving up who we are as a society because a few individuals are overwhelmed in a world they have no place belonging in. If they cannot assimilate then they do not deserve to be here.”

She heard cheers from around her, and a wide smile filled her face, knowing fully well that he was right. Why should they give up who they were because a few mudbloods didn’t know anything about magic and thought their world was uncivilized because they didn’t do things the same way the muggles did? They were the ones who were on top.

“Why must we hide in the shadows?” Voldemort spoke out, “Why must we hide our very existence from the muggles when we are the one who could easy vanquish them with a single spell? When all we need to do is show them what their rightful place is, and they would bow to our power? They have called lesser beings Gods for simply showing a bit of magic. Imagine what they would do if they saw our power? What they would do to show them some sort of miracle. They would worship us, and rightfully so. And yet, Dumbledore would have us cover behind barriers and hide away. But what good is the Statute of Secrecy if we bring in mudbloods in constantly to our world? We inform their families of our existence. What is the guarantee that they will not turn around and tell their world anyways that we exist? No, my friends. We must end that link once and for all. We must stop bringing in impure blood into our world as if having an ounce of magic equalled our own power. Our magic which is centuries old and filled with power. How could their drop of magic be any think but lesser than ours? They do not belong in our world. They may be more powerful than muggles, but that does not make them our equals.”

No, it certainly did not. She beamed up at him, and she could sense the excitement from around her. Finally, someone was saying the words they had only spoken in the shadows, afraid to ever formalize what they were thinking. Someone was finally willing to fight for what they believed in.

“No more,” Voldemort said loudly, “Today is the day we change. Today we step out of the shadows and challenge the current administration. Today we return the wizarding world to its former glory by making sure witches and wizards are treated with the respect we so rightfully deserve. That we are placed on top of our world without having to bend over backwards, trying to please muggleborns.  No more shall we cater to their needs, but instead they assimilate to their rightful places as below us, more worthy wizards. No longer shall we cry out for injustice and have our voices go unlistened to, because it is not what Dumbledore wants. We will take what we want, fight for our rights, for our homes. We will get the world we deserve, one way or another. And if the world will not hand it to us, we will take it by force. Today is the beginning of a new day.”

She smiled brightly, knowing that she had made the right choice, and that finally the pain she had been feeling for so long would finally be remedied.

New Political Party Alliance Challenges Minister Eugenia Jenkins On Political Stance

By Rose Blishwick

In a surprising turn of events, the dark families of Wizengamot have welcomed a new political leader to guide them. While it has been a while since the Dark coalition has had a formal leader, never seeming to have agreed enough on political stances, for the first time in decades, they have welcomed a new leader which the majority of families have welcomed whole heartedly.

Lord Voldemort, who claims to be the rightful heir of the Slytherin house, has united dark families alike in his surprisingly aggressive views on muggleborns and muggles, claiming that they do not deserve a place in the current wizarding world.

One can only speculate the sorts of legislation that the Wizengamot will see now, given this shift in political tides.

And if this new party leader manages to be successful in his mission to “save” the wizarding world, as he claims to want to do, what does this mean for our current world as we know it?

Hermione threw down the paper, feeling sick to her stomach as she read the words. She knew it was missing a lot of key details, including what exactly Voldemort wanted to do now that he had gained a significant amount of power, or at least enough that he could start beginning to sway legislation.

She pushed her plate aside, unable to eat as she grabbed the paper and ran out of the Great Hall, heading straight for the library and to her own private corner. The one that she and Draco had spent so many hours in, planning and planning as to how to bring this monster down. And yet he was still rising up in the world, seemingly unaffected so far by whatever changes they had made. It didn’t matter that he would never willingly get Regulus or Severus. He still had more than enough followers.

Did any of it matter? Were they even making enough changes yet? Or were they fooling themselves to thinking they were even capable of making a difference?

What difference did it make in the long run to “save” a few people, if they were all going to die soon enough? Did it matter if Regulus never turned, if Voldemort came after them all anyways? Did it matter that her brother no longer picked on students, if he would still be murdered because of a prophecy concerning his son, her nephew? Did any of it even matter?

She felt tears prick at her eyes as she threw the paper across the library table, overwhelmed.

She had known what they were fighting against; she had always known that Voldemort would rise despite what they tried to do. The only way to stop it all together was to stop him from being born. But that wouldn’t stop the political climate from being as volatile as it was now. There was a reason so many people were quick to jump to his side. Because in the fall of Grindelwald, the world became Dumbledore’s way or the wrong way. And people were tired of that world. No, she needed to bring him down, but also show the rest of the world that they were wrong. That there didn’t need to be two extremes. That there could be shades of grey, without being wrong.

“Hermione,” Draco’s voice called out, as he sat down beside her at the table. He took her hands in his and looked at her, concerned. “Are you okay?”

She nodded, sniffling slightly, “I just, it’s hard Draco. It’s hard to watch it happening and knowing that we need to try even harder. He’s a political leader, for Merlin’s sake. That means so many people already respect his opinions to follow him. It’s even more people we’re going to have to fight. I knew he was out there already, we both did. We both knew he’s been recruiting. But to see it so blatantly out in the open.”

“I know,” he murmured, as he stroked her hand softly. “It’s hard to read about, knowing so many wizards and witches already support him so much. Already are willing to fight alongside him. Merlin, what if my sister has already joined him?”

“This is it, isn’t it?” She asked him, a breath catching in her throat as she tried to stop her tears. “This is the moment it started. The moment Voldemort began his public rise to power. This is the point the world fell to hell, and where it started to all go wrong.”

He didn’t say anything, and she knew it to be true. How could it not be? For all they had tried to save important people so far, Severus so he never heard the prophecy, Regulus so he never felt the need to die saving a singular Horcrux, her brother’s friends, so the three would never suspect one another, and even Peter so he never would betray them. All of it was so singularly based and wasn’t anywhere near enough to stopping the war. It wasn’t enough on its own to bring down Voldemort.

“From here on out, we’re fighting his war, whether we like it or not,” Draco told her, stroking her hand softly, “From here on out, every choice, every life we save or don’t save matters. Every death, every action from here on out could change everything.”

She leaned into him, and he held her tightly. She couldn’t say anything, didn’t know what to say. She had carried the weight of this mission for so long, knowing exactly what the consequences of them failing would be. But to see it laying to blatantly in front of them pained her. Knowing that people would still die, regardless of what they did. That there would always be those they couldn’t save.

She stayed like that for a while, not wanting to move, as she took comfort in perhaps the only other person in this time who knew the true weight on their shoulders, and the pain she carried with her.

Chapter Text

If Hermione, be it as a Granger or a Potter, was destined to have one thing consistent in her life, it would be to have those she cared about be obsessed with Quidditch.

And it wasn’t that she didn’t understand the sport, because she understood perfectly well how it worked. She understood the appeal even, why so many enjoyed watching people on brooms try and score the most points.

But if there was one thing she didn’t understand was why it drove people crazy when she said she didn’t care for the sport. It was perfectly normal to have a respectful desire of wanting to keep her own two feet on the ground and not dangling in the air with nothing more than a glorified kitchen cleaning item between her legs.

It was why that summer in 1974 when James wouldn’t stop talking about the Quidditch world cup, she found herself rolling her eyes in protest.

“How can you not be excited?” James demanded at the breakfast table that day, as she simply turned a page in her book. “I get that you don’t want to play the sport, Hermione, but how can any sister of mine not be as into the sport as I am?”

“I simply prefer to apply my time elsewhere than watching Quidditch,” she said, as she read through the next paragraph of a 10001 Uses of Mandrake Root.

“Are you sure she’s not adopted?” James asked their father, and she bit back the urge to say that, Yes, she may as well have been.

“She’s not the only one who doesn’t care for the sport,” Euphemia reminded him, “I agree with your sister’s thoughts on the sport and believe there are far better things one could be doing with their time instead of watching others fly around on brooms all days.”

“I can’t believe it,” James gasped, “Betrayed by my own sister and mother. They were right when they said it’s the ones who love you who hurt you the most.”

“Stop being dramatic, James,” their father said, trying to have a stern look on his face but looking more amused than anything else. “I told you that I’ll get tickets for you and the boys to attend. But you need to take your sister with you. Merlin knows she could use some fresh air.”

“I get plenty of fresh air,” she retorted, “I go outside to read more than James goes outside to do anything else.”

“I know my Darling,” her father said, trying to placate her. In a hushed voice he added, “In all honesty I trust you far more than James. Especially if he and Sirius are together. So I need you to keep an eye on him and the boys and make sure they don’t do anything that I’m going to have to go to great lengths to remedy. I’d keep an eye on him myself, but things have been tense in the Wizengamot after everything that’s happened lately, and there’s going to be a session every day next week.”

She sighed, knowing what her father was saying was true. While Voldemort didn’t take any seats in the Wizengamot himself, his followers had plenty amongst them and were making it rather difficult in the sessions, trying to pass various absurd legislation.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” James said, indignantly. “I’m older than her! Shouldn’t I be the one looking after her?”

“We all know your sister is more than capable of looking after herself,” their mother said with a smile, “She’s proved herself to be rather exceptional. I have glowing letters from all of her teachers on how well she’s done last year. You, on the other hand, I have nothing but a stack of letters from Professor McGonagall wishing you’d apply yourself just as well to your courses as you did to the pranks you cast to harass the school with.”

“They’re entertainment!” James protested. “Everyone enjoys them!”

“I’d rather enjoy being able to get through a day and speaking to my friend without every word out of my mouth be me asking her out on your behalf,” Hermione reminded her brother lightly.

“It’s not like she said yes anyways,” James grumbled. “She made it plenty clear how she feels about me.”

“Maybe if you weren’t so extraordinarily unnecessary with how you chose to pursue her, she’d consider it,” Hermione retorted.

“What’s the fun in that?” James asked, grinning brightly. “But I guess that’s besides the point, Hermione. It looks like you’re attending the final match of the world cup with me.”

“I can try and get you extra tickets, Hermione. Would you like to invite any of your friends?” her father asked her.

She paused. She knew Lily had never experienced anything like the World Cup before. And while she herself didn’t care for the sport, when she had attended before her fourth year, it had been one of the most magical events of her life. So perhaps Lily would enjoy it. And Severus would probably be grateful too, for an invite.

“I’ve invited Sirius, and his mother insisted Regulus not miss out such an important social event either,” James rolled his eyes. “So both of them will be attending.”

“I suppose three tickets then,” she asked her father, “One for Severus and Lily each, and Draco too then.”

 James looked like he was biting something back at the mention of Draco, but she didn’t say anything to respond. He was her friend, and it was hardly fair for his cousins to be invited and not him.

Besides she remembered how the end of their World Cup had gone. And given the political climate lately, if anything like that were to happen, she’d feel far more comfortable if he were by her side, fighting alongside her.

“Perfect,” her father beamed at her, “I’ll get you all tickets then.”

“I still don’t think I need someone to watch after me,” James grumbled. “She’s going to bring a book anyways.”

“No,” Hermione protested. “I’ll probably bring two. These matches tend to drag on after all.”

James groaned at that, and she felt herself grin. If she had to go to the match, then at least she would have fun teasing her brother.

While Draco knew Hermione considered him an acquaintance due to the fact that they were both in very similar situations, he still was surprised to have been invited to the Quidditch World Cup with her and her family.

He supposed it made sense, James had invited all of his friends, which included his cousin. And his crazy aunt had wanted Regulus to go as well. And Hermione had wanted to invite Lily and Severus as well. So he would be the only one uninvited if she didn’t ask him.

“I guess it’s just the three of us, isn’t it?” Regulus asked, as he walked alongside Severus and him.

“What are you talking about, Black?” Severus asked, looking a little filled with disdain.

“Three Slytherins amongst all these Gryffindors,” Regulus said, looking a little peeved.

“You could have invited your friends,” Draco reminded him, “Your mother made it clear that there would be others here that she wanted to interact with, and I know a few of your other friends mentioned they’d be here as well.”

“I know,” Regulus shrugged, “Some of the boys did ask to meet up later. But what I meant by saying we’re the only ones, was that we should stick together! All this Gryffindorness is going to become overwhelming.”

Severus curled up his lips.

“You’re my cousin,” Draco reminded him, “I’ve hardly abandoned you in this time.”

“But Severus doesn’t consider us friends, does he?” Regulus pried, “We’re in the same house, and yet you only act cordial to us because of Hermione Potter.”

“I only act cordial to a lot of people because of Hermione Potter,” Severus retorted.

“So you don’t think we’re friends,” Regulus said, looking a little off put.

“I never said that, Black,” Severus rolled his eyes, “What is it with your family and being so bloody dramatic. I find you tolerable. Which is more than I can say for a lot of students at school, be it in our house or outside.”

His younger cousin beamed at that, and Draco felt a strange sense of pride fill him. He hadn’t been close, per say, with his godfather in his past life. The man cared for him and showed it as Snape often did. But it was nice knowing that the man didn’t completely disregard Draco as nothing more than a friend of Hermione, who had all but forced herself into Snape’s life.

“I still think it’s absolutely bullocks that we aren’t allowed to bring in our wands,” Draco said, changing the subject as he sensed Severus beginning to get uncomfortable.

“I don’t know what Royston Idlewind was thinking,” Regulus said, as he patted down the pocket which normally housed his wand. “I feel so empty without it. I don’t know how anyone goes about their lives without their wands. What if something happened?”

Draco nodded at that. He understood the grief must have been facing. It had been a way to try and control the crowds, which more often than not got far too rowdy at these events. But to make people leave their wands at home? Especially since Draco knew how volatile this time was.

It was why he had smuggled in his own in an undetectable bag. He refused to come without one, knowing fully well if anything were to happen, then he’d rather have his on him than have to try and wandlessly summon it.

“I’m surprised more people didn’t actually follow through with their claims of boycotting,” Severus commented after a moment. “The papers were filled with rumours that people were just not going to go to the match.”

“Some of the earlier matches had less people,” Draco mentioned, “But this is Syria versus Madagascar. It’s the final match of the season. Besides, we were told we could have Dissimulators, which I think greatly helped the fact that so few people were willing to actually part with their wands.

“Mother wouldn’t let me leave the house without mine,” Regulus confessed. “She insisted it’s not proper. I won’t repeat her exact phrasing, but it had something to long the lines of running around as if we were muggles.”

Draco shook his head at that, not wanting to make any comments on his aunt at the moment. The rumour that insanity ran in the Black family had definitely proven itself true in Aunt Walburga. She was definitely a piece of work, and he knew he would need to keep an eye out on the interactions between her and Sirius in the coming months, as within the next year he was due to run away from home and be blasted off the family tree. Of course, she couldn’t actually disown him, that power lay with their grandfather. And as long as Arcturus Black saw it in the family’s best interest to keep Sirius as part of the family they would be fine.

He had been surprised pleasantly that Arcturus had allowed Andromeda to remain in the family. He had hoped that Arcturus would make that ruling, but he couldn’t be sure. It had all rested on the fact that Sirius had never formally been disowned, even after he fought so prominently on the other side of the war. And luckily for them all, Arcturus seemed far more reasonable than any of their parents.

As they walked among the grounds of the Quidditch World Cup, he could see Severus’ and Lily’s face light up at the sight. And it was extraordinary, seeing magic used to so clearly support either Syria or the Madagascar teams. There were team colours on each side, the mascot of the Madagascar team, the Kalanaro growling so clearly at the Akhkhazu dragon on the Syrian side. It was still amazing to him to see after all this time.

He felt anticipation fill him as he walked down the grounds, knowing it would be an amazing match to watch.

He ends up sandwiched between Hermione and James during the match and he feels slightly out of place during it. Peter Pettigrew is on the other side of Hermione and he wants to offer to switch places so the boy can sit beside James, but he seems content sitting there, talking to Remus as he watches the match play out animatedly.

Hermione in turn has pulled out a book, and he wanted to roll his eyes at her, and ask why she even came if she wasn’t going to pay attention to the match anyways.

He knew she probably would have been happier at her house, reading happily through the day, especially if her brother and his friends were out and not causing a ruckus.

James looked over at her then and gave her a fond look of exasperation.

“She did say she would read through the entire thing,” James said with a sigh. “I just assumed she meant before or after. I don’t get how anyone can read with a quidditch match going on.”

“It’s Hermione,” he said, knowing she was lost to the world as her head buried itself in the book. “She could read through anything and be content.”

“As long as she doesn’t read through my quidditch matches, it’s fine,” James said, shaking his head.

When he didn’t say anything at that, James let out a startled sound.

“You mean she reads through my matches?” James asked, a little off put. “I thought she watched me play.”

“She does,” Draco said, unsure of why he was trying to make James Potter feel better about his little sister not watching his matches. “She just also reads during what she calls the ‘down time’. But she comes to the matches for you. I think she uses reading as a distraction because she’s terrified you’re going to fall off your broom. But she’s also too terrified not to be there and make sure you’re okay.”

“She would,” he said, smiling softly at that. “It doesn’t matter how many times I tell her about the protective charms and the number of security measures that are there to make sure no one gets hurt. She still worries anyways.”

“It’s one of the few things that cannot be learned from a book,” he pointed out. “She can learn almost anything from reading and apply herself almost immediately. But you can’t learn flying from a book.”

“Thank Merlin,” James said, and Draco let out a laugh of agreement. “So who do you want to win this, Draco?”

“Syria,” Draco said simply, “Have you seen their seeker? He has almost always spotted the snitch a full five seconds before every other seeker this season. And with an advantage like that, it’s impossible for him not to catch the snitch first.”

“And it helps that their chasers have a dynamic I’ve never seen before. I’ve never seen two players interact so seamlessly and score points as they do,” James added with a grin. “I’d be surprised if this match just dragged on because they were having too much fun scoring points.”

“And then Antachi catches the snitch simply because he’s bored and wants to go home,” Draco said, smirking at the possibility. It wasn’t an unlikely conclusion, given the way their past matches had played out.

He looked over at Hermione, watching her head buried deep in her book, but a hand placed over her robe pockets where he knew her wand lay. He supposed it was hard for her to relax completely. And how could they, now that Voldemort stepped out of the shadows.

He had seen the fear and the pain in her face when the article had come out and tried to comfort her how best he could. But he knew realistically, it was about to get a lot worse. There would be so many people the two of them would be unable to save. So many people who would be lost because he and Hermione were prioritizing different goals.

They still didn’t know were some of the horcruxes were in this time. How could they when Voldemort was probably still holding onto them? And shy of breaking into his house, they had no way of getting them yet.

Which meant the war couldn’t end, not any time soon.

And how many more would die as a result?

Madagascar scored a goal just then, which brought him out of his thoughts. He watched as James and Sirius jeered, unhappily.

He, on the other hand, wasn’t all that concerned. He meant what he had said about the statistics. Syria was more than likely to win it all.

He knew that James saw him as Hermione’s friend, and Sirius’ cousin, but he wondered, as the two of them cheered on the same team together, if they were becoming friends.

It hadn’t been imperative to his mission, so he hadn’t tried all that hard until now. It was important for him to mend Regulus’ and Sirius’ friendship. To keep Andromeda in the family and stop Sirius from running away. To show Slytherins that there doesn’t need to be prejudice. That they didn’t need to join Voldemort simply because the world already saw them as evil. James Potter was a part of Hermione’s mission.

But it wouldn’t be the worst thing, to have him as a friend.

He groaned at that moment, as he remembered eleven-year-old Draco Malfoy who genuinely did want to be Harry Potter’s friend and hated him instantly when he had declined his offer of friendship. And for years he had hated Harry, only letting go past grudges when they were thrown into a war despite their differences. And then the war ended, and they were thrown into a political battle, and he found himself fighting alongside Potter.

And now he was becoming friends with Harry Potter’s father.

This was what his life had become.

Hermione sighed as she closed the book she was reading. It was becoming too hard to read, what with the constant excitement around her, the cheering and jeering, screaming and shouting, and she was left feeling unhappy.

She supposed it wouldn’t kill her to watch the match for a few moments. Lily seemed excited by the general concept of the match, but Lily always did care for the sport far more than she did.

And she could tell her brother and Sirius were having the time of their lives, as they stood for the majority of the match. Even Draco, whom she knew was aware of the outcome of the match, seemed far more into it than anything she had seen in her life. But she supposed in her past life she never would have paid attention to how much he was interested in Quidditch.

Or better yet, if he was happy about something, it often meant it was bad for Harry.

But now, seeing him look so carefree, even if just for a moment, made her smile. Even in the midst of war and their mission, it was nice to see him forget about the weight of the world, and just live.

She watched the match in front of them, as the Syrian keeper swooped to stop a goal, and her breath caught in her throat as she thought for a moment they might fall.

And while her brother didn’t notice her brief panic, Peter most certainly did. But thankfully for her, he had nothing to say on the matter.

“So who do you want to win?” she asked Peter as he watched the game. He looked a little startled at that, and she supposed she only had herself to blame. It wasn’t as if she had tried very hard to be his friend, shy of the odd conversation. She knew she needed to be better. To try harder. Especially with Voldemort out in the open. She owed him at least the chance to try.

“Syria, I think,” Peter said after a moment. “I cheered on Madagascar for the majority of the season.”

“So why did you switch?” she asked him curiously, “If you believed in them, why not go all the way?”

“Because Syria is likely to win,” Peter said, looking a little off put, “Why would I support a losing team?”

She held her breath for a moment, unsure of whether it was a metaphor, or if she was simply reading too much into his statement.

“Even if they lose, they made it this far, and that’s still commendable,” Hermione told him, and Peter nodded at that.

“I suppose you’re right,” he said, and she let him go, knowing the match was heating up again.

Draco gave her a look, and she shook her head.

“So why did you invite me?” he asked her after a moment, leaning in, “We both know nothing happens at this match. There were no attacks noted in any of the articles we studied. And this is hardly the best place to plan out any of our next steps.”

She rolled her eyes at him, “Because I thought you would enjoy it, Draco,” she said simply, “I know how much you care about the sport, and your cousins were already invited. I wanted you here, plain and simple. It has nothing to do with our future mission and what we need to do. I just thought you would like to go.”

He seemed a little startled at that, and she wondered if their friendship was so flimsy, depending only on the fact that they needed to save the future and nothing more. If they never had to do this, and the world had turned out okay after the war, would the two of them even be friends? Would they even be in each other’s lives?

She felt her heart clench at the possibility that they wouldn’t.

Draco squeezed her hand, “Thank you, then,” he said with a smile, “I’m glad you invited me to this.”

“Me too,” she said with a grin. James looked over then, and saw Draco’s hand on hers, and his eyes darkened slightly. She rolled her eyes at him; he had nothing to worry about. Draco was her friend after all.

“And Antachi has spotted the Snitch!” The commentator cried out, and everyone around her instantly stood to their feet, as the seeker dropped down suddenly, chasing after the snitch. She felt her heart race as she stood, watching him drop further and further down. “Antachi has caught the Snitch! Syria wins the 1974 Qudditch World Cup!”

Idlewind made his way to the Top Box then, ready to say a few words, when a hundred thousand Dissimulators went off at that moment, from all sides of the stadium. And everyone around them had their Dissimulators turn back to wands in that moment. Idlewind looked furious as he marched away, without saying a thing, and Hermione couldn’t help but shake her head.

It was one thing reading about this moment in books. It was an entirely other thing to watch thousands of people so blatantly disregard the rules to not bring in their wands and do it anyway, just to spite the man. She almost felt sorry for him, but remembered she too, had smuggled her own wand in, not wanting to leave it behind because the man was afraid of some rowdiness.

Peter, looked validated when he saw the Syria had won. “Looks like I chose the right team to support after all,” the boy said glowing, while Sirius and James cheered loudly, and cast spells in the Syrian colours.

Lily and Severus watched brightly, laughing at the sight of the victorious team enjoying the fact that they had won.

And Draco, beamed the brightest, as he pulled her into a hug. She laughed at that, despite knowing that the team would win all along.

And watching the sheer joy on her friends’ faces she supposed that perhaps Quidditch wasn’t that bad after all.

Chapter Text

Draco found out about the marriage from his parents the day before he was supposed to return back to school.

He had been sitting down at the table, his sisters around him as he ate the breakfast their elf put before them on the table.

Bellatrix hadn’t said a word, wearing an expressionless look on her face, while his mother, beamed for once, sitting down at the table beside them.

“Bella, we are so pleased that you have decided to accept an offer for your marriage. Salazar knows that your father and I were worried that you would never settle down,” Druella said, smiling brightly at her oldest child.

“The Lestranges are a noble family,” their father said, with an approving tone. “I’m pleased you managed to have to have secured an alliance with such an ancient family.”

He nearly dropped his fork. How had he missed that his sister had gone and gotten herself engaged to Rodolphus Lestrange?

It was one thing not to be aware of things going on in the world outside his grasp. But his own sister? How did he not notice that she was being courted by the man?

Especially given what he knew about their marriage in the future, which bore no children. And it was clear in the future, Bellatrix had very little love for her husband.

Was it different in the beginning? Did she love him for a time? Why did she accept his proposal when he knew she had turned down dozens of others? He had heard their parents lamenting about it, knowing that while Arcturus backed Bellatrix’s decisions to choose her husband, there was very little they could do to arrange a marriage that was worthy for their family.

Did something change?

“I’m pleased you approve,” Bellatrix said, before pushing aside her plate, “However there is somewhere I need to be.”

Her parents nodded at her, and he pushed aside his own plate, “I need to finish packing,” he explained quickly, before running up after his sister, hoping he would be able to catch her before she left the house.

“Bellatrix,” he called out for her, not sure what he was going to say. It had been a while since the two of them talked, hell, he wasn’t sure they ever properly talked since Draco had returned to the past. And it wasn’t as if they had a good relationship before either. She had always made it very clear what she had thought of him.

“Draco,” she said, stopping and turning. She had a gleam in her eye, and he swallowed. “Was there something you wanted?”

“Why?” he asked her, keeping his voice cool, “Why are you marrying him? You and I both know you have no real feelings for the man, not as Andromeda cares for Ted. So why are you marrying him?”

Her eye twitched at the mention of their sister, and he supposed in hindsight that wasn’t the best example to mention.

“You and I both know that not all marriages are born from love,” Bellatrix said. “I have a respect for him as he has for me. What else do we need?”

“Is it really what is best for you?” he asked her carefully. Because in the odd chance she could find someone she cared about, truly cared about, maybe her life would turn out differently. Maybe she would be happy, and not driven by a vengeance caused by her ideals to cleanse the world. Maybe she could have a life, a life filled with her own ambitions. “You wanted to have a career. Will you still have that if you marry him? You don’t need to marry him to be happy. You can achieve great things on your own, without him.”

She scoffed at that, “Do you really believe that I can achieve what I want to do in my life without a husband by my side? If our world will accept a woman on her own trying to achieve her dreams? Grow up, Draco. We both know how it is for people like us. How it is for society women. We’re expected to keep our mouths shut and our legs open to pop out children. We don’t get the same chances to achieve our dreams. Marrying is the only way I can do what I need to do.”

“But do you need to marry him?” he asked, pushing, “You could pick whoever you want. Someone who you care about, genuinely care about. It doesn’t need to be Rodolphus.”

“But it does!” Bellatrix raised her voice, “How many others do you know who will give me the same freedom to do what I need to do? I’m already making a difference, Draco. More so than you could ever know. I’m a part of the change that is coming, the saving of our world. I’ve seen greatness up close and seen the true power it can hold. I’ve seen power manifested in a man, more than in anyone I’ve ever seen my entire life. I’ve seen the change that is coming. And Rodolphus will let me be a part of that change.”

His breath caught in his throat at that. She had already met up with Voldemort. She may not be an official Death Eater yet, but she might as well be. She clearly was enamoured with him already, and willing to do whatever it took to serve him. Even taking a husband who she didn’t love, because he would let her serve Voldemort.

He felt shame fill him, knowing that she had gotten so far because he had been too afraid to try and save his sister, to properly try and save her, until this moment. So afraid that if he were to fair it would lead to the loss of their family, of Narcissa, Sirius, Nymphadora. So afraid so that he had kept his distance.

And now she was already so far gone.

He needed to try harder, to prove to her that their family was on the right side. That there was a better side instead of Voldemort’s or Dumbledore’s. That there was a grey, in between side, which was better suited for them all, and less extreme.

And he needed to try and save her before it was too late. If not just for her sake, then for the sake of those she would hurt.

Arcturus sighed to himself in his study as he swirled a glass of firewhisky before raising it to his lips.

The last couple of months since this Lord Voldemort had come to the light had been trying. With the man trying to push more and more ridiculous pieces of legislation through Wizengamot, he thought he was going to lose his damn mind.

He wanted to scoff at every single piece that came his way, and light it on fire. How on earth did the man think that any of these laws would be helpful? How did he think it would actually better their society to start classifying muggleborns as second class citizens?

Honestly, it was absolutely ridiculous.

“Arcturus,” He heard his brother-in-law’s voice call out, and he looked up to see Fleamont Potter standing in his study, “You wanted to see me?”

“Did you see this new bill the Dark faction is trying to push?” he asked, raising a stack of papers before throwing it onto his desk. “It’s bloody ridiculous. I have no idea what they think they’re trying to pull. They don’t have the numbers to swing it, they know we’re all just going to vote it down. So why are they trying to push it through?”

“They don’t have the numbers yet,” Fleamont said with a sigh. “We both know it’s only a matter of time before they gain enough to at least have these bills become a serious conversation and not just something we instantly dismiss on the grounds of not having enough support. And when they get a platform to voice their thoughts on these laws, who knows how long it is before they are able to actually pass some of these?”

“Do you think it will get that far?” Arcturus asked him, knowing the answer deep down. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, needing a moment to collect himself.

“He already has several seats on his side,” Fleamont reminded him, “He has the Lestranges, the Notts, Parkinsons, and the Malfoys. And given your granddaughters impending marriage to the Malfoy heir, it’s not unrealistic for him to expect to have your vote as well.”

“I know,” Arcturus sighed, “If I do not side with him, given the Malfoy alliance, it will show a weakness between our two houses. And while I do not care for the alliance, it is what Narcissa and her parents want. So I need to keep it cordial for her sake.”

“And there’s no way you can use primacy over the Malfoys to get them to side with a different faction? Your house is the older one, so by all rights, you can tell them where to place their vote,” Fleamont asked him.

“Not unless I have a better place for Abraxas to put his vote,” Arcturus let out a breath. “What are our other options really? We don’t have a better party to put our votes in. The other main one is the Dumbledore alliance, and we both know he has the majority of the light faction under his control. And the Black family might not side with this Voldemort, but we still are a dark family. And to be seen siding with Dumbledore? Especially when his politics are based on the notion that if you do not believe in his ideals then you are the enemy. And Merlin knows some of the legislation he puts through would ruin our world.”

“So what if we create our own in between faction?” Fleamont asked him. “You said it yourself, you’re a dark family. And the Potters are a light family. And yet neither of us agree with the extremes of our own sides. So what if we had an intermediate option we could choose? A grey faction. I’m sure there are plenty of other families who also do not agree with the extremes either, and yet cannot side with the other side due to similar problems. If we had an in between, which balances both sides’ ideals, then we can counter both sides issues.”

“Will it work?” Arcturus asked him. “From my experience, families are not happy to switch sides.”

“It’s not as if it makes your family any less Dark, Black,” Fleamont rolled his eyes. “If you are worried about that, you do not need to be, your family is still plenty dark. It just offers us an alternative for where to place our votes. Besides, we cannot be the only two unhappy. And yet, here we are, on opposite sides of magic, yet coming together on issues. And if the two of us can do it, I’m sure other families will be able to as well. I know a few houses that have already expressed their displeasure with how things have been going. I can secure the Longbottoms, Diggorys, Fawleys, and a few other seats so far. Of course I need to reach out and see who else would be amenable to considering this alternative.”

Arcturus nodded, “If I can convince the Malfoys and the Lestranges, due to having primacy over their houses, then we can count on their votes. I know we can get the Burkes as well. But it will be harder to convince the main Dark families to switch when so many of them believe in Voldemort’s ideals. I’ll need to reach out to the smaller families, those who are not committed either way, but can be persuaded to join.”

“Good,” Fleamont said with a nod, “We need to get this to work, otherwise it will be bad for all of us. We cannot allow such legislation that will take us backwards to pass. We need to put it to bed, once and for all.”

Arcturus raised his glass to the man, “Well said.”

Hermione sighed to herself as she looked at Peter sitting at the Welcome Feast as she listened students be sorted in their houses. She never could stop herself from sympathizing with the nerves they must have at that moment. Because what house a student was in didn’t matter, they would be placed where they best would excel. But at the same time, it was so important to the rest of their lives, at least at school. It would impact who became their friends, what stereotypes were pushed on them because of their house, which teachers became their mentors, and so on.

She wondered how many students at the school had chosen houses because of their own expectations or familial obligations. How many of these students would have been happier in other houses.

She wondered too, what her life would have been like if she had chosen Ravenclaw, knowing she had a few options where she could have been sorted.

She knew she was a brilliant witch, and even despite her house choice, she was known for her intelligence. Would it have been brushed off if she were in Ravenclaw instead? Having her brains be an expectation rather something that she was prided for?

As a Ravenclaw, she wouldn’t have been happy. She knew why she chose Gryffindor. She had always been complimented for her brain, and she wanted to be known for something else for once. Not that it had completely worked.

But she did meet Harry and Ron as a Gryffindor. She gained brothers who she loved more than anything. She gained a family in the Weasleys, and there was nothing about that she would change, not for anything in the world.

She felt a pang in her chest as she thought about her friends for the first time in a while, knowing that it was more important than ever that she succeed.

“I would like to welcome all our new students to Hogwarts,” Dumbledore chose that moment to speak, “And welcome back all our older students. Before I let you get to the feast, I would like to say a few words. I know things are tense in our world right now, but I implore you not to allow different beliefs cloud your judgement when making choices. I implore you to look beyond your difference and make friends based on your hearts over your blood. I implore you to learn about those different than yourselves before being so quick to judge others.”

His eyes lingered on the Slytherin table for a moment, and she wanted to roll her eyes. If he thought the only prejudice stemmed from that house, then he was sorely mistaken. And it was no wonder that so many had been quick during the final battle to side with Voldemort. For Merlin’s sake, they had locked up and entire house, because of their prejudice! How many of them were innocent? How many had joined Voldemort because the rest of the world had refused to accept them? It was absolutely unacceptable.

Draco caught her eye then, and shook his head, and she knew he was filled with as much ire as she was.

“But with that said, I hope you all have an excellent year, and make good choices. Especially in whom you chose to consider friends.”

Dumbledore met her eyes at that, and she wanted to say something, however she knew that now was neither the time or the place. So instead she did nothing, choosing only to stare back at him.

“I will not keep you from your food any longer,” Dumbledore said, and there were some laughs, as students began to eat their food.

She watched, as Peter piled up his own plate, happily taking several helpings of food. James and Sirius were gladly taking as much as they wanted, and at least Remus seemed to be taking food considerately, and acting like a civilized human about it.

Boys.

She looked at Peter, and she knew she needed to try harder. If Voldemort was already recruiting, then it was only a matter of time before someone approached him in order to try and convince him to join. She didn’t have a timeline on it, all she knew was that Peter one day decided to sell out his best friends to Voldemort, her brother and future sister-in-law to Voldemort, the moment he had the chance to do so.

That kind of change couldn’t happen overnight. That kind of hatred needed to brew over time.

Did it happen because he felt alone? Because he felt as if they were the only ones who truly respected him? Or did he do it because he was a coward and wanted to save his own skin? Or was it analogous to the Syrian Quidditch team where he switched sides willingly because he believed they would win and he didn’t want to support a losing team? Could his mind be persuaded that easily?

He didn’t need yet another friend who looked down on him. Nor did he need a friend who offered to teach him things, dumbing down things because they didn’t think he was capable. And she knew her brother and his friends didn’t do it maliciously. Peter genuinely did need his help, and they were more often than not, the reason he didn’t fail more classes. But he didn’t need another person who offered to help him learn. Especially one younger than him. She hardly thought it would be helpful for him.

No, he needed someone who respected him as a person. Someone who made him feel important and listened to him as he genuinely did his best to try and succeed. He needed someone who wanted to be his friend because of who he was.

And if it was what it took to stop him from falling to the dark side, then she would suck up her hatred for who he would become and try and save the boy he was now from ever falling to Voldemort’s side. But she refused to let him ever become her brother’s secret keeper, if such a need was still necessary.

Hermione sat beside Draco on the grounds of Hogwarts, not quite wanting to sit in the library due to it being one of the last nice days of the year and his insistence that they had plenty of time to spend in the library in the coming months, and it wouldn’t kill her to spend one day doing their homework outside.

She had rolled her eyes at him, but she couldn’t think of a good argument as to why they shouldn’t study outside. Regulus was off with some of his other friends, and Severus was busy practising for some potion competition that was happening in a few months, which apparently was very prestigious, and he wanted to win. Sirius was in detention, which surprised her given that it was only the second day of school. And Remus was off, well, doing who knows what.

He wasn’t like Harry and Ron, who if they asked to study outside, she knew would almost instantly be distracted by something else. No, if Draco said he would study, she knew all too well that he would be studying for the majority of the time. And she respected that about him. Besides, it wasn’t as if they were solely studying for their current education. There was still a lot to learn if they were going to face Voldemort one day; lots of spells and potions which could come in handy while fighting a war.

However, she shouldn’t have been surprised when she as distracted from a loud scream. She looked up to see Lily swarmed by a hundred owls all at once, each of which dropping a letter at her feet.

“Oh no,” she sighed, despite knowing fully well whatever was about to happen would be fully amusing.

She could see Lily’s disdain as she picked up a single letter, read it, threw it to the ground, and set the entire pile on fire.

And she could also see her brother look disheartened at that, before his own eyes widened.

“POTTER!” Lily yelled, “How many times do I need to tell you? No! No, I will not go to Hogsmeade with you! I will not go out with you! I don’t want your letters, or your chocolate, or whatever other bloody thing you come up with. I. Have. No. Interest. In. You. Now leave me alone, or I swear I will ask Hermione to write to your mother and get you to stop!”

She laughed as Lily started sending hexes his way, and James yelped as he ran across the Hogwarts grounds.

“Lily Flower!” Her brother cried out, “Please! I love you. Please stop hexing me! Ouch! Lily Flower!”

“He has a lot to learn about girls,” she commented, as she brushed a curl away from her face and behind her ear. “And a long way to go before Lily even begins to see him as anything more than a pain in her arse. Of course, I probably wouldn’t write to Mother about him, not unless he did something truly horrible. But I definitely can hold it as a threat over his head to get him to behave if he gets too out of line.”

“Why don’t you just help him?” Draco asked her curiously, “You and I both know they’re meant to be together. So why not help him try and get together with Lily. Merlin knows you could save him from some embarrassment and Lily would be far less likely to reject him if he asked her like a reasonable human being, and not one who seemed like a lunatic. Maybe if you helped, he would be far less helpless, and would be together for longer.”

She laughed at his description of her brother, “Have you ever tried to get my brother to do anything? He’s a stubborn as a bloody hippogriff. If I tried to offer him advice, he would insist I know nothing about how dating works and that it’s okay, one day I would understand. And then he would have Sirius back him up and fuel his next ridiculous idea on how to ask her out. He’s a bloody menace, that’s what he is. Besides, he needs some time to grow up a little. They both do. They’re only in their fourth year anyways. And despite what she says, she doesn’t hate him, not as she did in the past timeline at this stage. He’s an annoyance in her life, but she doesn’t hate him since he’s not the same person as he was back then.”

Draco nodded at that, seeming to accept her explanation for it. “He does seem to have a knack for frustrating her. Merlin knows I’m surprised she hasn’t sent him to the Hospital Wing yet for more serious injuries. But I can tell she does care for him, even if just as a friend at this moment, despite how trying he is being.”

“He’ll manage it himself,” she said, confidently, “One way or another, he’ll figure out how to pull his head out of his arse and ask her out properly. But he needs time to mature and grow up. And he needs to realize his feelings for her are real and not the result of a childhood crush. He needs to fall for her first, who she is as a person, and not just because ‘she has the loveliest shade of hair. It’s so red! Like blood!’ For Merlin’s sake! And once she sees that he is capable of being genuine, she’ll stop hiding from her own feelings about him. One way or another they’ll end up together, whether it’s how they got together originally, or a different way due to our presence. But in the meantime, I can enjoy his ridiculous attempts at trying to woo Lily Evans and laugh at him each time it goes horribly wrong.”

Chapter Text

Arcturus pinched his fingers to his forehead as he sat down in his family’s seat in the Wizengamot session that was occurring that day. He had already known before he had shown up that it would be a long day, and in all honesty, he wasn’t as young as he once was. He wasn’t young enough to be dealing with this sort of nonsense anymore.

It had been bad when Grindelwald had been in power all those years ago. And despite his disdain for Dumbledore, it had been the fear of the man that had stopped him from ever entering British soil.

But he remembered what it had been like for the rest of the world. The deaths, the horrors that had occurred. He remembered reading about horrible bills that had passed. Bills that left the world spinning and had caused whispers in the shadow of his own country. Whispers of those who secretly supported the man and wanted similar policies to occur in their own home.

His own peers had wanted a similar sort of occurrence for England. For them to embrace the concept that they did not need to hide in the shadows from muggles. That muggles should be bowing down to them instead.

And it had left the world spinning, each day, picking up the paper to read of more and more deaths, more and more countries fallen as their governments were overtaken by his men. More and more refugees fleeing from Grindelwald. More and more pain, until Dumbledore finally decided it was worth his attention to try and bring down the man.

He didn’t want that for his children or grandchildren. He didn’t want them fighting in a war that they had no place in. A war, which if it were to come, would tear their world apart, would tear them apart.

He was no stranger to his granddaughter’s political beliefs. He knew Bellatrix would be in the midst of the fight if this Voldemort were to rise to power. He also knew Sirius would disagree and fight against it as it went against his very constitution.

He refused to let his own family be torn apart for a man with ideals that would only hurt their world. And if the rest of the Wizengamot could not see that, and allowed his horrendous bills to pass, then Arcturus wasn’t sure what chance there was for the rest of the country to make it through the storm that would occur in Voldemort’s wake.

“We are here today to discuss the newest legislation brought to our attention,” Dumbledore spoke out, as he held out the parchment which contained the bill. “This bill at the moment is merely being voted on for if enough houses believe we need to consider the bill, or if houses wish to dismiss it without debating the fine points. We are simply voting today a mere yes to begin debates on this bill or no on this bill to dismiss it outright, not debating passing it or not yet.”

He took a deep breath, knowing fully well whatever bill would be mentioned today would be more ridiculous than the last.

“This bill is in regard to the security concern presented in muggleborn students,” Dumbledore’s voice called out while displaying no emotions or his own feelings on the matter, “And if by telling their muggle parents we are letting too many people know about our world. The proposal is to not tell their parents or siblings about their magic due to the fact that there is nothing preventing them from talking about it to other muggles. Instead, they should simply be told that their children are attending a prestigious boarding school.”

Well, he wasn’t expecting that.

He swallowed as he looked around the world, knowing fully well that there would be arguments for and against the discussion coming up.

He had to admit, he did see the reason for concern in the bill. He understood where the Dark faction was coming from. There was nothing stopping one rogue muggle from talking about magic. One parent who hated their child enough for their “freakishness” and went straight to the masses. And while they survived the witch hunts, it was not something any of them wanted to endure once more. Especially when the muggles held more than just fire now.

He could see the murmurs amongst them, knowing fully well that there were others who were just as torn. Because as ridiculous as some of the other bills presented had been this one was, while slightly extreme, not entirely wrong. It might not need to be as simple as just not telling the parents about the magic, but instead causing them to be unable to speak about it to anyone other than a witch or wizard.

But it wasn’t unreasonable.

He met Fleamont’s eyes from across the chambers and could see the man looked just as torn himself, knowing it was a complex matter.

“We will now hear arguments for opening up discussions for such a bill,” Dumbledore said, and he shouldn’t have been surprised to see Thaddeus Nott standing at that moment.

“My fellow members, I can see by the looks on your faces, that you all see the merits for such a bill. You all can understand the security concerns presented by these students coming into our world, but then returning to theirs. And we would never try to stop them from entering our world, that would be far too extreme,” Thaddeus said, and Arcturus nearly scoffed out loud, “But we must admit that there is a problem when they can go home and talk to their families or their friends freely about their magic. The Statute of Secrecy cannot protect us if they come to our doors once more. Our families are old, we all remember the pain and injustices our magic felt when we were unfairly murdered for our gifts. Unfairly hunted. None of us want that. By allowing them to speak freely to muggles, we are opening up our world to more breaches. This bill will simply close that gap.”

“We will now hear arguments against discussions,” Dumbledore said, and Caradoc Dearborn stood up to speak.

“This bill is preposterous,” Dearborn said, “We are punishing students because of their parents, and how is that any different than any of the other muggle and muggleborn bills that we have already dismissed? How is any of this going to do anything but hurt muggleborn students and not allow them to feel more alienated? This bill, if passed would do nothing but further tear our world apart in this already volatile time, and I implore that you feel the same and do not allow such a thing to pass.”

He sat back down, and Dumbledore stood, “We will now begin voting on this bill. If there is a tie, I will then cast my own vote. Those in favour of discussing the bill, raise your wand.”

He was torn but knew that he couldn’t allow such a bill to pass. Not when it would bring even more horrendous pieces of legislation their way. And if they began discussions, it would only cause more harmful clauses to be slid in. He needed to stop this from passing. So he didn’t raise his own wand, despite the points he could understand in the bill.

“Those against discussing the bill,” Dumbledore called out, and he raised his own wand at that.

There were a few moments of silence while Dumbledore gathered the results.

“In a vote of 24 to 26, the bill has been dismissed and will not begin discussions,” Dumbledore said, and voices broke out throughout the hall, both those who were relieved and others who were angered.

And he knew this wasn’t the end, as the bills would keep on coming his way.

There was something relieving about Halloween in this time. In her own, it was filled with wondering what horrendous thing would come their way, between trolls, the chamber of secrets, mass murders breaking into the tower, and the goblet of fire choosing underage wizards, she’d had a few packed Halloweens. And in comparison, knowing all too well that her brother was planning something, was hardly the worst thing in the world.

Of course, it left her on edge all day, and she knew her brother was more than aware of that, as he went out of his way to offer her drinks, hug her slightly more than usual, pretend to slip items in her bag, and so on.

And while she loved her brother, he was driving her insane.

She knew, realistically, that whatever he had planned, was most likely meant for the entire school, and not just her solely. However she also knew better than to think that he wouldn’t also prank her individually because she wouldn’t be expecting it.

And as such, she was left in a state of paranoia, over her brother’s every action.

Something which left Remus and Sirius far too amused, as they made a show out of teasing her about it, and she wanted to hex them all until they were left begging her to stop. But instead, she took a deep breath and decided instead, she would get her revenge. Not today, not tomorrow, but when they least expected it. Or maybe yet, she would let them think something was coming their way, and the entire time do nothing, just to leave them as paranoid as she was feeling right now.

“Just you wait,” she threatened James, as she sat down beside him at dinner. “I have something planned for you. Something which will allow me to get my revenge on you for everything you’ve put me through today. And you’ll never see it coming.”

“Do you now?” he asked, raising a brow at her, “And why should I be worried about it? You’ve never been the pranking kind.”

“Do you think you’re the only one who has the knowledge in their blood?” she asked him carefully, “We are related you know. Everything you know how to do, so do I. And I know how to do it much better than you. So I’d watch my back if I were you, Potter.”

He looked like he was going to retort, but realized she was right. That she was far more capable than him, merely academically. And if Hermione Potter chose to apply herself to pranks, then the rest of the world had better watch their backs.

“Well, darling sister of mine,” he said as he slung an arm around her, “What’s say we call a truce?”

“What’s say we don’t?” she grinned at him, and he looked shaken. He peered down at the pumpkin juice, and she instantly knew what the source of the prank for the entire school that day was. But instead of not drinking it, she did something surprising.

Instead, she raised her glass to her brother, as she felt a feeling of superiority fill her being.

His eyes widened comically, and she almost laughed as she drank the entire thing in one go.

She wasn’t the only one, as the rest of the students began their dinner as well, and that involved drinking their juice.

She felt her body begin to shift, as ears popped out of her head, and her hair began to grow unrulier than it usually was. And unsurprisingly, a tail sprouted out of her back. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a compact mirror, and saw that her had turned into a cat, albeit a far cuter cat than she had been in her own second year of school.

She looked around and saw that the other students had turned into different sorts of muggle Halloween characters, including witches, skeletons, ghosts, mummies, vampires, and so on.

“Clever,” she mentioned to her brother and he beamed at her, before raising his own glass and drinking the juice for plausible deniability.

Professor Flitwick stood up then, having a Jack O’lantern as a head, and said, “Five points to each of the students involved in these festivities.”

Sirius high fived James under the table, and Remus grinned brightly at both boys. Sirius had turned into a ghost, Remus a bat, and James a skeleton. Peter on the other hand, had turned into a giant pumpkin.

“POTTER! BLACK! LUPIN! PETTIGREW!” McGonagall’s voice yelled out over the other students, as she had turned into a giant werewolf. “DENTENTION! DETENTION FOR A WEEK.”

Her brother simply grinned at her, “Worth it.” And she laughed at that.

It was no surprise to Hermione Potter to find out her brother and Sirius had once again, managed to wind up in detention.

Then again, it probably hadn’t helped that they had placed catnip all over Professor McGonagall’s classroom and she had spent the better part of one of her classes rolling around, attracted by the scent of it.

To say she wasn’t pleased would be an understatement.

It didn’t stop Hermione from giggling when she had found out just what her big brother had gotten up to, and the thought of her professor doing such thing was enough to get her to unable to be mad at her brother, and more amused than anything else.

Remus was in the library, and she supposed she could join him, but it wasn’t as if she really needed to study anyways. No, she had another more important mission that she needed to attend to now, and it was time to finally face it whether she liked it or not.

Peter Pettigrew.

With his friends all occupied, it meant that he would most likely be alone. And it was such a build-up of loneliness which was dangerous. It meant that there was more time for him to develop insecurities, and more time for Death Eaters to wiggle their way in and try and manipulate him.

Not that it excused what he did in the future. There was nothing which could justify willingly selling out your best friends.

She walked into the common room and saw Peter sitting alone in a corner, a set of chess in front of him, while he stared idly at it, as if he could will the game to play itself, without another player. And she supposed if he really wanted to, he could play by himself. Not that it would be very fun.

“Peter,” Hermione greeted him, and he jumped slightly.

“Hermione,” he said, squeakily. “Why aren’t you in the library?” he asked her curiously.

“I needed a break,” she said with a shrug, “And regardless of what my brother thinks, I don’t spend all my time studying. I’m capable of leaving the library every now and again.”

“James isn’t here,” he informed her, “He and Sirius have detention.”

“I know,” she smirked, remembering just what they had done to deserve it. “I actually wanted to know if you wanted to play a game of chess with me.”

“Why?” he asked her, unsure. “I’m sure you have better things to be doing.

“Because I’m rubbish at it,” she admitted, “And James has mentioned how good you are at it, and I would like to try and get better at it. Do you know how annoying it is to play James and have him laugh happily when he beats you? I love my brother to death, but just once, I want to beat him.”

He looked unsure for a moment, as if he couldn’t tell if she was only offering because she felt sorry for him, or if she truly wanted to play. And she tried her best to look at genuine as possible, because she needed him to say yes. Needed to try and befriend him and steer him off the dark path if possible.

He gestured at the chair across from him, “It’s not like I’m playing anyone anyway,” he shrugged, “Let’s see how good you are.” He moved to set up the board.

She probably shouldn’t have been surprised that she lost within a few minutes. Or that she lost the game after that or the game following that. She knew he was good at the game for a reason.

Perhaps she just needed to be able to get through to him to see it was more beneficial for him to stay loyal to his higher pieces than to sacrifice them in order to win.

Peter had no idea what to think about Hermione Potter, and yet here she was, sitting across from him as she all but begged him to play a game of chess with him. And he had no idea why. He was sure there were better things she could have been doing. He was hardly the most interesting person in the world.

And she had more than enough friends, they all knew that. Was she only here cause they were all busy? Or did she truly want to be here like she claimed?

He had no idea, and honestly, he couldn’t think of a good reason as to why she was sitting here. And yet, he couldn’t think of a good reason for why she would force herself to hang out with him if she didn’t want to. There was nothing in it for her. Her brother never would ask her to hang out with him, more like the other way around.

And when he won the fourth game, she had a bright look on her face, not even fazed by the defeat.

She grinned, “I knew you were good at this game, but I didn’t know you were this great at it! Colour me impressed.”

He turned slightly red at the praise, not sure how to react to it entirely, but it was always nice for someone to think he was good at something.

She moved to set up for another game, and he wondered at that, if perhaps he was wrong about Hermione Potter. That there was a reason Sirius and Remus were so quick to accept her into their folds. That there was a reason James would bend over backwards for his younger sister. Because she was definitely something else.

But he had yet to determine if that was a good thing, or not.

Hermione sighed to herself as she sat down beside Draco in the library.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked her curiously as they had a stack of books around them, dedicated towards how to become Animagi, and the entire set of procedures they would need to undergo.

“I am,” she said determinedly. “We know that it is possible to do. James and the boys with accomplish it eventually. And if they can figure it out, then so can we. And if it takes us a year or so to get it right, then I’m willing to put in the time. Merlin knows there’s more than enough things that can go wrong that are not in our control.”

“Such as finding a dew drop that has not seen sunlight or touched human feet?” Draco asked her dryly.

“Or spending an entire month with a mandrake leaf attached to your mouth, only to find that the next full moon isn’t visible and needing to repeat the entire process just so we can spit out the leaf in a phial under the moon’s visible rays of light,” she added.

“Merlin forbid we accidently swallow the leaf,” he sighed. “No wonder it takes your brother and his friends so long to successfully turn into Animagi. The process is far more complex than one would have thought. And Salazar help us if we accidently do something wrong and turn into permanent half-human, half-animal mutations because of it. Merlin knows I won’t be able to look my parents in the eye if I have dragon scales or something of the like.”

She laughed at the image, despite the seriousness of the situation, and he gave her an unimpressed look.

“I can’t help it!” she defended, “You’re the one who gave me that mental image.”

He smirked at her, “Imagining me, are you Potter?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she retorted, “You’re hardly attractive in the image I’m conjuring in my mind.”

“No more than usual, anyways,” he gave her a smug look, and she rolled her eyes.

“Shut up, Black,” she said, as she wrote down the exact instructions onto a set of parchment and made side notes about things they needed to make sure they did.

Such as meditation to try and find out what form they would take as they transformed into animals. Because while it was possible to just wait until the transformation and have the form determined by their traits, meditation allowed them the slightest control over at least knowing their form ahead of time.

“We’re going to have to use a sticking charm,” Draco mentioned as he held up the mandrake leaf that they had procured from the greenhouses. “Otherwise there’s no way it will remain at the roof of our mouths for an entire month.”

“We probably would accidently swallow the leaves,” she sighed. “Merlin this entire process is going to be particularly dreadful.”

He gave her a look, one she knew was him all but saying that he told her so, and she chose to ignore it.

“I ran into Professor McGonagall,” she admitted to him, “While I had the leaves in my bag. I think she is aware of what we’re doing, but she hasn’t said anything to discourage us from doing so. I suppose if at the end of everything, if we were to register, then it doesn’t do us any harm to become Animagi while we are technically underage students.”

“We are underage students,” he corrected her, “It doesn’t matter if we once lived to be older. All any one sees now is that we are two teenagers. You’re thirteen, Hermione, and I’m only fourteen, given our new birthdates. It hardly brings us close to the legal age.”

“I always found that strange,” she sighed, “That the ritual made us switch birthdays.”

“It’s your fault,” he said, nudging her, “Your brother’s birthday is March 19, 1960. There’s no way you could have been born in September of the same year to have been able to have kept your original birthday. So I suppose it made us switch dates.”

“I liked being older than everyone,” she said, softly.

“You liked using your age to be able to boss people around,” he corrected once more. “Admit it, Granger. You enjoyed bossing around your two friends and terrorizing half our year.”

“I didn’t terrorize anyone!” she protested.

“One word. Spew,” Draco said, raising a brow.

“First of all, It’s S.P.E.W. and secondly, I admit I might have been a bit naïve in my youth, and not have properly researched the magical bonds of house elves,” she said, turning red slightly.

He shook his head, a smile on his face as they reminisced about their past. “Well I guess it just means that you have to listen to me now, because I’m the older one.”

“If you think that will happen for even a moment, then you are sorely mistaken,” she said, shaking her head at him. “We both know I’m the more capable of the two of us.”

“Please,” he retorted, “We both know that’s not even close to true.”

“Agree to disagree,” she said nonchalantly.

“Mature, Potter,” he said, “But I suppose you are right about becoming Animagi. I might not be particularly keen on running around each month with a werewolf, even one who is our friend, but it would be a useful skill to have. Who knows, maybe if I turn into a dragon, I can roast Voldemort and end all our problems.”

“You’re not going to be a dragon,” she rolled her eyes, “And that would only be possible if Voldemort’s horcruxes were all destroyed. And we still need to get the ring this year.”

“I know,” he sighed, “We still have a lot of planning to go before we even begin to attempt that mission.”

“We’ll get there,” she reassured him, as she placed a hand on his, and he smiled at her.

“We will.”

Chapter Text

Bellatrix grinned to herself as she pulled on a silver mask onto her face, with thin slits for her eyes. She appreciated the Slytheriness of the design as well as the importance of the concealment of her identity that it provided.

She knew why she needed to cover her face; it hardly would do to see the faces of those who were revolutionizing the world. Their faces didn’t matter, they were just soldiers, following a leader who would save them all. What did it matter who she was, when their Lord was so much more important than any of them?

She placed her wand in her robes, as Rodolphus came up behind her, placing an arm around her waist.

“Are you ready?” he asked her softly, as he stared at the two of them in the mirror.

She pulled away, “Will he be there tonight?” she asked, slipping from his arms.

“No,” Rodolphus shook his head. “This mission is for you. For all the newcomers to prove that they are worthy for a place in the Dark Lord’s circle. And if your mission is successful, you will all be given a spot in the ranks.”

She felt a tinge of disappointment fill her. She had hoped to see him in battle, knowing it would be majestic to see him attack their enemies and show his true power. How could it not be when she could feel it radiating off of him with every single encounter she had? How could it not be when she could feel the anticipation build up inside of her every time she looked at him?

But she understood, of course she did. She understood that he had better things to do than take part in a mission that was meant solely for her to prove her worthiness. For it was something she and the others could handle themselves. He didn’t not need to get involved in such miniscule battles. Why would he when he had far greater things to think of; far greater things to plan?

He adjusted her robes slightly, pulling them to fit her slightly looser, “We will be married soon, Bella,” he whispered softly, as he placed his lips to her shoulder. “And soon you will be mine.”

She tensed at that, “A marriage for convenience,” she corrected, as she tried to tighten her robes. “Because you agreed to let me live a life of freedom, and not tied down like some sort of trophy wife.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that you will be my wife,” he said, brushing his finger against her face, “I don’t care if you never manage to love me. You will be mine, and you will have my children. That is enough. And in return, I’ll allow you to pursue whatever your heart desires. As long as it doesn’t involve dishonouring our marriage.”

So even if her Lord managed to want her, she never would be allowed to pursue him.

She wanted to laugh in his face but knew that he didn’t just mean it in terms of her intentions. It wasn’t unreasonable for him to place a fidelity clause on their marriage when they were bonded for their marriage. It was a horrible archaic tradition that many purebloods used on their wives to make sure that any children they had were unquestionably theirs.

She had never thought he would use one on her though.

She sighed, frustrated. It wasn’t as if she didn’t know she wouldn’t be able to pursue her Lord for her own purposes. She had known the minute she agreed to marry him. Besides it was all moot point as she had long since accepted that if her Lord didn’t want her as a lover, then she would stay by his side as a loyal follower.

“It’s time to go,” she said, changing the subject, as she walked back to the group where the rest of the followers were standing.

“Today, there is only one rule,” Rodolphus spoke loudly, using his seniority over the others. “Wreak as much havoc as you want, but do not get caught! We are here to show that we will not be compliant anymore! Our voices are not being heard, so let’s make them listen to us! Let’s make the Ministry listen to what we have to say and give us the change we need and the change we deserve! It’s time to show that we are serious with what we want!”

She looked at her fiancé, feeling a rush of emotion, but instead, she pulled out her wand, as they all piled out of Knockturn Alley and onto the streets of Diagon Alley.

It started so quickly, a simple spell to set a muggle owned business on fire, and instantly the chaos began. The screams and shouts as more and more shops were set ablaze, and the residents began to panic. She could hear the shouts fill her ears, the noise pounding away as she felt the thrill of emotion fill her as she watched the chaos all around her.

She saw a muggleborn girl on the ground, how could she be anything less than pure, when she looked so plain and simple? She cursed the girl, causing her to scream out in pain, and Bellatrix smirked to herself, watching the girl twitch and cry before Bellatrix decided to put her out of her misery.

“Having fun, Darling?” Rodolphus came up behind her, looking pleased with himself as he walked away from his own muggleborn.

“Very much so,” she grinned at him. And how could she not be? She knew in this moment, the thrill of the power she felt, that this was where she was meant to be. to be making a difference here and changing things for the better. For the first time in years, she finally didn’t feel powerless any longer.

And she knew she would continue to keep doing so, until the world was finally theirs for the taking, and those less than worthy were where they belonged.

She should have seen it coming, really. Lily Evans did previously hold the title of the most brilliant witch of her age before Hermione Granger started school. And seeing her first hand, she knew that Harry’s mother was one of the most intelligent people she had ever met in her life. It should have been no surprise to her that her friend was able to figure out the secret.

And Severus was hardly all that dim himself. Between the two of them, they held the first and third spot in their year’s ranking, with Remus in between. So for them to figure it out, wasn’t all that unreasonable.

She knew Severus definitely had suspicions the first time around, leading to an unfortunate prank which nearly tore the Marauders apart. But it would be different this time. This time James Potter was a mere annoyance and not a mortal enemy. This time Remus Lupin was their friend and not someone who could be used as collateral damage to hurt her brother.

This time, they had a personal relationship with Remus.

She shouldn’t have been surprised, not really, and yet when her friends march up to her and Remus in the library, demanding to talk, she can’t admit that she saw it coming, not in the slightest.

“Muffliato,” Severus murmured, and Hermione looked at him stunned.

“Did you just invent a spell?” she asked, knowing fully well that he had invented it the first time around. Yet she had no idea he managed to do so in his fourth year of schooling. She had expected because it was in Harry’s potions book that it hadn’t happened until his sixth year. But she supposed he could have simply filled it in later.

“It makes it so no one can hear what we say,” he explained, “Which I believe that we will need for what we are about to say, Lupin.”

“Me?” Remus questioned, looking a little uneasy. He shot her a look to ask if she had any idea of where the two of them were going with this, and she shook her head, despite having a very bad feeling.

“We know you’re keeping something from us,” Lily said, “You disappear for several days each month, Remus. And as much as I believed it when we were younger that your mother gets sick, or that you were feeling under the weather, or that your aunt passed away, we couldn’t help but notice that each time you leave happens to fall under the full moon.”

“Does it?” Remus asked, scratching his neck in a confused tone. “What does that have to do with anything.”

“It has plenty to do with the fact that you’re a werewolf,” Severus retorted, and Lily hit him across the arm.

“Sev!” she scolded, “We agreed to ease into it! Not just full on blurt out that we know the truth!”

“I have no idea what you guys are talking about?” Remus tried, but she knew they weren’t buying it.

She really should have seen this coming.

“Drop the act, Lupin,” Severus rolled his eyes, “We’re not going to tell anyone. Though I assume the staff knows, for it would be far too difficult to hide it if they didn’t. And who would we tell really?”

“The Daily Prophet might be interested in such a story,” Remus said offhandedly, but she could see by the way he was clenching his fists under the table that he was tense.

“Why would we do such a thing?” Lily asked, reaching out to grab his hand, “You’re our friend, Remus. It doesn’t matter to us if you have an affliction that the rest of the world wants nothing to do with. You’re a wonderful person, and it’s not like you asked for this to happen to you. You have a condition, which is painful, but doesn’t change the fact that you are our friend, and the kindest soul I know. You never would willingly hurt anyone, nor would you ever do anything which you thought would put them in danger. I have no reason to tell anyone, nor do I want to. I just want you to know that we care about you, and you don’t need to hide it from us, because we just want to be able to support you.”

Severus nodded, “You make for a good study partner, Lupin. I’d rather not lose that because you are insecure about an affliction that you had no desire to have. Plus I have grown rather fond of our acquaintance.”

Remus’ lips twitched at that, and Hermione grinned brightly.

“I take it you already knew?” Lily directed at her, and Remus snorted.

“She figured it out in her first year and all but confronted me, similarly to how the two of you just did, and insisted she wanted to be my friend regardless,” Remus said, looking at her fondly.

She nudged him with her shoulder, “I stand by what I said,” she grinned. “I don’t regret the way I went about it.”

“Your brother wouldn’t stop laughing for a solid ten minutes when I told him,” Remus mentioned.

“Of course Potter figured it out before we did,” Severus muttered, “I thought I finally beat him to something.”

“It helps that he lives with them,” Lily pointed out. “I’m not surprised you guessed either, Hermione. You are rather intuitive and brilliant. It took us so long cause we wanted to make sure that we were absolutely certain before we went about talking to you.”

“Yes, I suppose this conversation would be rather awkward if the two of you were wrong,” Remus remarked. “Imagine confronting me, only to find out all my excuses were valid.”

Lily paled at that, “Well that’s why we had to be sure!” she protested, “We didn’t want to accuse you if your mother truly was sick. How horrid would that be of us?”

Hermione laughed at that, “Well lucky for you, you were right.”

Remus smiled at all of them, and she could tell he felt lighter than he had in a long time.

He found out, surprisingly enough, from his mother when she wrote to him to talk about Bellatrix’s wedding arrangements, that Narcissa would be married the following winter after she graduated school.

It shouldn’t have shocked him as much as it did, but he was still left feeling slightly stunned as he found out his once mother would be married to his father before he started his fourth year of school.

She hadn’t mentioned much about the arrangement to him since the news had been broken to him, but he knew she didn’t see anything wrong in the marriage. And why would she? His father was everything she thought she wanted: a rich pureblood lord with more money than he could ever use in his entire lifetime. Hell, while he knew his father was more than involved in Ministry affairs, he probably could have spent his entire lifetime simply sitting at the Manor doing nothing without as much as putting a dent in the family fortune.

But he still had to try to dissuade her. Even if he couldn’t tell her the truth. Even if he couldn’t tell his mother that his father would get involved in Voldemort’s politics. That it would drain them; emotionally, financially, and socially. That their family would fall from grace. That her husband would get arrested and sent to Azkaban. That their fortune would fall considerably while Voldemort sought fit to drain it for his own uses. That her son, that he, would be forced to kill someone at the threat that she would be murdered.

Would she still be as quick to want him if she knew all that? Or would it finally be enough to send her running. To send her into the arms of a better man. One who was on the right side of things, or better yet, someone completely uninvolved in the war. But it was hardly as if he could tell his mother the truth, not without sounding like an insane person. And it would hardly do for his mother to think that he had inherited the Black family insanity.

“Can I talk to you?” he asked his sister as she sat in the Common room, reading a book from the classical wizarding period, probably some sort of romance novel or the other.

“What is it, Draco?” she asked, as she gingerly closed the book she had been reading.

“Mother has told me she has begun to make arrangements with Lucius’ mother for your wedding,” Draco said, looking to gage her reaction.

She didn’t display any emotion to that, “Well I suppose it makes sense,” Narcissa murmured, “Weddings take a significant amount of planning. And she has Bella to focus on for now. I’m sure after that, she will begin making more arrangements for my wedding. She mentioned wanting my opinion on several different aspects. I’m sure she’ll provide specifics soon enough.”

“So you are actually going through with it?” Draco asked her, as he raised a brow.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Narcissa asked him, confused. “Lucius is a good match. One I only could have dreamed of having. He’ll provide me everything I desire for a marriage, and I’ll provide him an heir for the Malfoy line.”

“Is it the kind of life you really want?” he asked her carefully, “You’ve heard the rumours of a dark group. Heard about someone trying to change the way things are. Lucius will get involved. I’d be surprised if Abraxas hadn’t already backed this so called Dark Lord. That will become your life, your family’s life. Is that what you really want?”

“It’s not up to me to decide the politics for our family,” she said, but he could see that she felt uncertain about it. “Once Lucius is the Head of the House, I get a bit more say in matters that concern our family, but for now the power rests with his father. It is not my place to say.”

“You don’t need to get involved with it at all!” Draco argued, “Ask Arcturus as Andromeda did. Ask him to break the engagement if you are unhappy. He gladly will do so for you.”

“I care for Lucius,” Narcissa said, looking him in the eye, “He has been nothing but cordial to me throughout our courtship. He is proper and everything I want in a husband. I have no reason to break off the engagement. Especially for mere speculation as to what lays in his future. You supported Andromeda when she wanted to follow her heart, despite what it meant for her future. Why can you not support me the same way?”

‘Because he’ll get you killed,’ he wanted to yell at her, ‘He’ll destroy your life and your entire family.’

“Can you honestly tell me you’ll be happy with him? Even if being with him makes your life miserable and is nothing like you thought it would be?” he asked her carefully.

She didn’t say anything at that, and simply looked down beside him.

“If it’s what you want, I’ll support you,” he said after a moment, knowing he wouldn’t be able to change her mind, “But if you ever need to talk, I’m here for you, Cissy. And if you ever need to break off any of it, the engagement, or even the marriage, go to Arcturus. Or Sirius if it happens later in life. If he dishonours your marital bond to keep you safe or to protect your children, then that’s more than enough grounds to terminate your marriage. Think about what is best for you for once, not what society will think. For any man who treats his wife poorly will not gain the support of the masses over you.”

She nodded at that, without saying a word. She looked in thought for a moment.

“I’ll be happy,” she said finally, “He’ll give me the life I want. I don’t want what Andromeda has, or even Bella with a marriage of convenience. I want one where we can both have a deep respect for the other but can also care about one another. And Lucius cares for me, as I do him. However, if it will put your mind at ease, I will be careful, Draco. If anything happens, then I’ll come to you.”

He smiled softly at her. If he couldn’t save her, at least he could let her know she had options. The first time around the Black family had fallen apart, so she couldn’t even get the marriage terminated and return to her family. But this time, he’ll be damned if he let such a thing happen.

He’s a bit surprised come the first Hogsmeade weekend, when Hermione asks if he wanted to go with her. And while that in itself wasn’t surprising, it was surprising that she chose not to invite anyone else along.

He knew that Lily and Severus wanted to visit some potions store and had left first thing in the morning. And Regulus wanted to go with some of the other Slytherins in his year. Her brother and his friends were probably going to spend the entire day at Zonko’s. So that really just left the two of them to go together.

He supposed it also didn’t help that while it was technically their ‘first time’ in Hogsmeade, they had both been so many times before. They had seen the magic of it firsthand so many times in the past that she probably didn’t want to go with Mary McDonald or anyone else who was excited to see it for the first time.

It was exhausting, having to pretend every single thing was a new experience.

“Is there anywhere you want to go in particular?” he asked her quietly.

She looked worried for a moment before saying, “I miss the Three Broomsticks,” she said with a sigh, “I used to go there all the time with Harry and Ron, and I just wish they could be here with me.”

He squeezed her hand, “I know. I wish I had any way for you to see them again. And not as children of your brother and Molly and Arthur who we haven’t even met this time around. I wish I could have brought something, like a device that let you talk to Harry in the future.”

“But that future doesn’t exist anymore,” she said, smiling sadly, “Or if it does, it won’t be the same. Because if Merlin forbid, anything happens to my brother, I refuse to let Petunia raise Harry. And I will fight the entire Wizengamot if I have to. I’ll fight Dumbledore. I don’t care what sort of excuses he has about Blood Magic.”

“They would side with you,” he said in agreement, “A magical relative over a muggle one? It’s hardly even a debate. Plus, the Blacks would support you. Harry would be Arcturus’ grandnephew after all. If you wanted to raise Harry, he’d fight tooth and nail for you. And so would Sirius as the Heir. He’d demand visiting rights of course, but he’d fight for you to have custody.”

“I won’t let anything happen to James or Lily,” she said determinedly, “I’ll be their secret keeper if I have to. But I will not let them die.”

“Nor will I,” he reassured her. “But let’s go to the Three Broomsticks for now.”

“Are you sure?” she asked him softly, “I didn’t want to mention going there because I wasn’t sure how you felt about that place. I know it was difficult for you in the end.”

“Rosemerta doesn’t remember me this time around,” he reminded her. “She doesn’t know what I did to her back then. And I always did like it there. It was nice to just have a place I could go to relax without having to worry about the social hierarchy at every given time. Merlin knows it was better than Madam Puddifoot's.”

She laughed at that as they walked through the door and towards a table, “Did you ever go there?”

“Once,” he said, pulling a face, “Pansy insisted I take her there on a date in fifth year. It was absolutely horrid.”

“Do you miss her?” she asked him curiously, “I know the two of you were close.”

“I only ever saw her as a friend,” he told her as he sat across from her, “My father wanted me to make an arrangement with her family. And she wanted to be the future Lady Malfoy. But I never felt any sort of romantic feelings for her. Not like what she wanted.”

“Well if it isn’t my cousin and James’ little sister out on a date together,” she heard a teasing voice from behind them. She looked up to see James and Sirius standing over them. James’ face was blank and he wondered if he would be threatened by the older boy to stay away from his sister. “Is this your first date?”

James sat down beside them in a free chair while Sirius did the same thing, and he could see Hermione roll her eyes.

“So it must be a date because the two of us are alone together? By that same logic, what’s to say that you and Jamie aren’t on a date as well?” she asked Sirius, giving him an exasperated look.

“How do you know we’re not?” Sirius countered and James wrapped an arm around Sirius just then, causing Hermione to burst out in laughter, and Draco to shake his head despite having a smile on his face at their antics.

“So how do you find your first official trip to Hogsmeade?” James asked her and she smiled brightly at her older brother.

“Wonderful,” she said warmly. “I know why you and the boys always get so excited to come here. Speaking of which, where is Remus and Peter?”

“Remus is on a date,” Sirius said in a sing song voice, “Laura Taylor. She all but insisted he go with her and it took us forcing him out the dorm room this morning for him to agree.”

“Is she in your year?” Draco asked, the name not sounding familiar to him.

“Year older,” James gave him a wolfish grin, “Gryffindor.”

“Is he happy?” Hermione asked, sounding worried, “Maybe he had a good reason for not wanting to go.”

“It’s his own insecurities,” Sirius said, sounding frustrated. “Merlin knows James and I have both kissed many birds ourselves. Well I have. James only has eyes for Evans.”

“I’ve kissed girls, Sirius,” James rolled his eyes. “Before I found out about the exquisite beauty that was Lily Evans.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, “I don’t want to know.” And Draco grimaced. He supposed it made sense, not everyone was too worried about a war they knew was coming and had time to act like children. Besides, he didn’t want to go around kissing random girls like his cousin did. Not when he knew he would never be able to truly connect to any of them, and they would never understand what he went through, even if he told them the truth.

“So is this a date?” James asked, bringing the question back to where it started, and Hermione threw a napkin at her brother.

“I’m out with a friend,” she said, “And nothing more.”

James gave him a look and he nodded, “We just wanted some butterbeer.”

James wanted to argue, and Draco could see that in his face. But Peter Pettigrew rushed through the doors just then and headed straight for their table.

“I was looking for you guys,” he exclaimed, “I had no idea where you had gone! I turned my back for one moment and no one was there!”

“I saw Hermione and Draco go in here and wanted to make sure they weren’t on a date!” James defended and Hermione shook her head at her brother.

Peter slouched at that, and he knew that the boy felt excluded. Especially given the fact that the four of them were sitting so comfortably, and there were no more free chairs at the table.

“Haven’t you been here long enough?” Hermione asked, seemingly thinking the same thing, as she gave her brother a pointed look. “I’m sure Zonkos could go use your business. Merlin knows with the amount of merchandise you purchase they probably are turning a rather good profit.”

Her brother looked reluctant to leave but that seemed to be enough to perk Sirius’ interest. “I heard they have knew dungbomb flavours! Imagine if we leave some in the other common rooms? It would cause so much chaos!”

“I don’t even want to know,” Draco said, “Just please let me know if you do Slytherin so I can avoid it.”

“I’m sure we can come to some sort of arrangement,” Sirius winked. “Now I’ll let you two lovebirds be.”

“Not lovebirds,” Hermione called out as Sirius all dragged out James Potter and Peter Pettigrew tailed behind them once more.

“They’re a piece of work,” Draco commented.

“They really are,” she sighed, but he knew she wasn’t anywhere near exasperated as she pretended to be.

Chapter Text

She must have had a confused look on her face that day as she sat in the library, for the moment Draco came to sit at their table, he immediately noticed.

And she was, to say in the least, slightly baffled as to how family magic worked, or specifically family magic in relationship to certain families.

“What is it?” Draco asked her curiously as he sat down beside her and glanced at the books she was reading. “Family Magic: The Guide to Understanding the Ancient Magics? That’s what you’re choosing to read?”

“I feel like I’m missing something,” she explained sounding slightly confused. “There’s some puzzle piece that I cannot properly fit it to the rest of this, and it’s been bothering me for quite some time.”

“And that is?” Draco asked her curiously as he sifted through the pages of the book in front of him, wondering what it was that had her so baffled.

“Voldemort,” she explained. “As a Granger, I had access to the Granger family magic. Not the Dagworth portion specifically as I wasn’t related to that side of the family, but I could access the Granger family magic if I had claimed my place in the family properly. And I would have if well, the world didn’t fall apart. And as a Malfoy with a mother who was a Black, you had access to their direct family magic. I’m sure if I tried to claim the Black magic too I probably could due to my mother. Of course, it would become the secondary source of family magic due to being a Potter now, just as you would have had access to the Malfoy magic primarily over the Black family magic.”

“Yes,” Draco frowned, unsure of where exactly she was going with the subject, “What does that have to do with anything.”

“Why did Tom Riddle never claim the Lordship of Slytherin, and thus be able to properly access his magic? He claimed the heir power when he opened the Chamber of Secrets and unleashed the basilisk. So why not go beyond that and claim the Lordship? It would have far more power than simply claiming still to be the heir of Slytherin and fashioning his own new name. And yet he chose not to,” she asked, looking up at him unsure of why he wouldn’t do such a thing, “Hell, it would give him his own Wizengamot seat, and let him access Slytherin’s greater fortune, something with even the Gaunts barely had access to due to none of them being the head of the Slytherin house.”

“Maybe he couldn’t access it,” Draco said, looking a little stunned, “I never considered it before. I just assumed he fashioned a new name to separate himself from Tom Riddle, the muggle name that his muggle father who left his mother gave him. But what if you’re right and there was a reason why he never was able to access it himself? And that also contributed to why he made a new name to claim Lordship over, even if the word ‘Lord’ in his case was nothing more than a word and held no actual power. Not the same way it does for the rest of us.”

“What would stop him from being able to access it though?” she pressed.

“Magic would have determined him unworthy of bearing the name,” Draco responded. “There is an ancient ceremony any heir must undergo before they are able to fully claim the Lordship of their house. And in it, their family magic determines if they are worthy of bearing the family name. And if magic itself finds them worthy of doing so, then they can carry the title. But if magic doesn’t determine them worthy, they are not given the Lordship. Perhaps he tried and magic determined him to be unworthy of carrying the Slytherin family name. And while anyone can claim relationship to any family, they can only truly wield the family power in entirety if magic allows them to. Clearly Tom was allowed to wield certain hereditary aspects, such as being a parselmouth, which has less to do with magic but more to do with being a family trait.”

“Could he have been stripped of the ability to use his family magic?” She asked, confused.

“If he did something truly unforgiveable. Such as using family magic for a purpose it was not intended to have been used for.”

“Like opening the Chamber of Secrets and using all the knowledge that came with it to kill an innocent girl and desecrate his soul by creating a horcrux?” Hermione suggested.

“I cannot say how the Slytherin family magic was meant to be used, and what it entailed,” Draco frowned, “But from speculation and given Salazar’s history, it isn’t reasonable to expect it to have been some sort of protection magic ability. Or at least as a portion of it. Given how he wanted to protect the school from muggles, and muggleborns because they posed more of a risk at that time when witches and wizards were persecuted frequently. But for Tom to have killed an innocent student in a time when the Statute of Secrecy existed, then to have destroyed his soul, making him unstable, would have been more than enough for magic to have determined that he was unworthy of wielding the family lordship. It also would have effectively kicked him out of the family and prevent him from accessing the magic.”

“Which means while he may be the heir, given being the last member of the house, he has no direct ability to access its magic,” she stated, “And while having a significant amount of power himself, he is limited in his ability and what he can access. Whereas others who are more in tune with their family magic could still wield the ancient power that flows through their veins.”

“I don’t know how this helps us,” Draco said, a little unsure what to do with this newfound information, “But it’s good to know. Maybe it will come in handy in the future.”

She nodded as she agreed with him.

“Maybe it’s useless,” she sighed, “Or maybe it’s the key to everything.”

When her mother told her that they would be attending a socialite wedding that winter break, she had no idea it would be that of Bellatrix and Rodolphus. She had no words to explain how much she’d rather not go, how badly she wanted nothing more than to stay at home and hide away from the fact that Draco’s oldest sister was getting closer and closer to becoming the lunatic who had forced her down and tortured her for hours. Who had disfigured her arm by carving that word into it, leaving her in mental and physical pain for days, and nightmares for months.

She could hardly tell her mother that she didn’t want to go for that very reason. Not when her mother had made it clear that they were only invited due to Euphemia’s connection to the Black family and how socially unacceptable it would have been for them not to have received an invite. Hell, she was sure Arcturus had personally insisted on it. Merlin knew the Lestranges and the Potters barely got along due to very, very different political beliefs.

So she stood on the stairs of the Lestrange ballroom, post the wedding which had been absolutely dull. If Fleur and Bill’s wedding was filled with magic, joy, and love, then the wedding of Rodolphus and Bellatrix was filled with despair, disdain, and a mutual understanding of what they wanted. Their vows to each other were generic, and she could tell from Draco’s tense face, he was as unhappy as she was that the two of them were getting married.

“Are you ready?” James asked, as he appeared beside her, he let his arm out to her, and she slipped it through, taking comfort in the fact that her brother was beside her side through this. They made their way down the stairs, and he led her over to where Sirius, Regulus, and Draco were seated. She sat beside Draco as James and Sirius immediately began chatting away about with girl Sirius wanted to dance with at this horrid affair. Even Regulus seemed disinterested by the wedding. Andromeda and Ted were seated at the Black family table, but she could tell immediately how unhappy they both looked, and she knew it must have been difficult given the two very differing views on Ted’s blood status.

“Are you okay?” Draco asked her softly, and she squeezed his hand as the two of them watched Bellatrix and Rodolphus dance on the floor.

“I will be,” she sighed, “I just…I know she’s your sister now, and part of me wants to save her so she never becomes that same monster. But at the same time, I don’t know if we are helping her at all. It seems like she’s managing to still make her way down that same path to becoming the deranged woman who murders all those people and tortures so many more.”

“We can’t save everyone,” he reminded her. “We can try our best, but some people don’t want to be saved. We’ll try for her, just as we will Pettigrew and Lucius. But if they still want to go down that path, there’s nothing we can do.”

She swallowed, and he seemed to understand that she wanted a distraction.

“Dance with me,” he murmured, extending his hand out to her. She smiled gratefully, as she slipped her hand through his, and when they reached the dance floor with the other couples, she placed her hand on his shoulder and kept the other intertwined with his. He placed one gingerly on her waist and she shivered lightly at the contact.

They moved together, synchronized, and she felt herself relax into him. She met his eyes and saw them filled with warmth and familiarity, and she realized that there were very few people that she felt this at ease with, this comfortable around, and this happy with.

“I forgot to mention it, but you look lovely tonight,” he said softly, as her silver robes glittered under the chandeliers above them.

“You look rather decent yourself,” she said with a laugh. “Thank you, Draco.”

“For what?” he asked, sounding confused.

“For everything. For coming back with me through the ritual. It was more than anything I could have asked for. It’s nice to have someone here, someone who understands how important it is that we do this. Someone who understands the loss we faced. For knowing exactly what I needed and being there for me. For being my friend, even though we didn’t need to be in this time. We just needed to get the job done. But I trust you, more than I trust anyone, and I can’t imagine a world where you aren’t in my life and don’t care for me.”

He smiled at her softly, “Coming back was just as much for me as it was for everyone else. I was selfish. But that said, I want to change everything with you. And if anyone had a reason not to want anything to do with me, it was you. Merlin knows I’ve been more than horrid to you through the years. And yet you dance with me now, as if we were old friends, and didn’t have a history of violence or stood on opposite sides of the war.”

He spun her around then, to match the movement of the dance, and she twirled around, landing back in his arms.

“You were only on that side because your mother’s life was at risk!” she protested, “You never would have fought for them otherwise.”

He cocked his head at her, “You really believe that, don’t you?”

“Can you honestly tell me you were there willingly?” she argued.

“No,” he admitted, “I suppose I cannot. The things they did, it was horrendous. I might have been a self-righteous prick back in school, but seeing the things they did to people they thought less of, it was horrible. It changed me, seeing people I casually called mudbloods be murdered in front of me. Their blood was the exact same as mine.”

“It won’t happen this time around,” she promised him. “I won’t let it. And I know you won’t let it, Draco. You’re a good man, Draco. As a Malfoy or a Black.”

His eyes widened at that, and then softened as he looked at her, as if he were filled with so many emotions that he couldn’t possibly even begin to describe. She moved with him as he dipped her ever so slightly, and she came back up, feeling secure in his arms.

He looked like he wanted to say something, but her father approached them just then.

“Mind if I have a dance with my daughter, Mr Black?” her father said kind-heartedly with a smile that didn’t fully reach his eyes. She wanted to roll her eyes at her father’s protectiveness, but Draco smiled back as he pulled away.

“Of course, Lord Potter,” Draco said politely, as he dropped his hold on Hermione, “I should find my sister. I wouldn’t mind entertaining my niece for a little bit while she and Ted got to enjoy a dance or so.”

Her father nodded, “Give them my best,” he said, as he pulled his daughter in for a dance.

“You didn’t need to get all protective on him,” she said softly, as her father danced with her.

“Call me a sentimental old man,” her father grinned at her. “It’s hard not to be, at the wedding of a sibling of your friend. It reminds me that I’m getting up there in years, and that you are getting older before my very eyes. You’re no longer my little girl.”

She felt her heart drop, knowing that her father was right about his age. It wasn’t a secret that James Potter was a bit of a miracle child for her parents, born late in their lives. And well, she was the result of a ritual. She knew Harry’s grandparents had died long before the Halloween in 1981. It was part of the reason why he had gone to his aunt and uncle; because they were all the family he had left.

Which meant that there was a very good chance her parents wouldn’t last the next decade.

She felt her throat close at that, because it was hard, knowing that she would once again lose another set of parents. But how did she explain the conflict of emotions she was facing? How did she even begin to explain that she knew her parents wouldn’t last much longer, not without making herself seem like a pessimist or a seer?

“We’re not going anywhere, Hermione,” her father told her softly as he took in her expression, “Not yet anyways. We still have some time left in us. Enough to see the two of you through school and begin the rest of your lives. To watch you grow up, and fall in love, to find careers that make you happy, and to meet your new families.”

“And after?” she swallowed unable to word what she was feeling.

“After you’ll have each other,” her father told her gently, “My greatest regret is that I cannot live forever. That I cannot see every moment of your lives and to always be there for you. But we’ll always be with you, in your hearts.”

“I love you and Mum,” she whispered, “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t,” he promised her, “You’ll never truly lose us. But when our time inevitably comes, you and James will always have each other. And you’ll have your friends to be there for you. Sirius Black has become a close friend to you both. As has is brother, who I know you are friends with. His cousin on the other hand, him and a few other boys that I’ve seen looking at you tonight might be a different story. Them I might need to keep away from my little girl. I’m not ready for anyone to come along and sweep you off your feet; not quite yet anyways.”

She laughed softly, “I have no interest in boys, not yet. I have much greater things to focus on than a mere boy with a crush.”

He grinned fondly at her, “If only James was as focused on what he wanted to achieve rather than single-mindedly pursing a girl who has made it plenty clear that she has no interest in him whatsoever.”

“Don’t tell Jamie, but I wouldn’t bet on that just yet,” she said, giving her father a conspiratorial laugh, “The two of them may just make it one day.”

“I’ll keep it between the two of us,” her father promised her, his eyes twinkling, “Merlin knows I love my son, but it such a thing would go straight to his head if he knew his logical little sister believed he might actually had a chance with that poor girl that he’s been half in love with for the last little bit.”

“Poor Jamie,” she teased, “Everyone’s conspiring against him.”

“Conspiring against me how?” James asked, as he approached the two of them. “Might I borrow my sister, Dad? I’d like to dance with her for a bit.”

Her father beamed at the two of them as he released her, “The only man I trust completely with my daughter,” he teased, and she rolled her eyes at him.

“I’ll protect her and keep her safe,” James mock saluted, “You can count on it.”

“Honestly,” she sighed, “You’re both absolutely ridiculous. I have absolutely no idea how Mum puts up with either of you.”

“You love us,” James retorted, as he danced with her across the floor.

“So why the sudden desire to dance?” she asked as she moved with her brother.

“Some lady was making comments on how it’s a shame that our family magic is so pure and strong, and yet our family is squandering it by making horrible political waves and associating with half-bloods and muggleborns. Except well, not nearly as polite,” he shuddered. “And I saw you on the floor and decided to make a quick escape.”

“Glad to be of service,” she teased, not wanting to think of the fact that other families were saying such things about hers.

He bumped her slightly, “Well I prefer your company over theirs any day.”

She smiled at her older brother, “As do I.”

Sirius Black sat at a table of the wedding reception for his oldest cousin’s wedding. He was filled with so much anger, so much hatred, for the fact that she had gone through with it and married Rodolphus Lestrange. She had married a man who had such clear views on the fact that he believed in blood purity and that those who didn’t follow the words to a tee were blood-traitors. That those who didn’t want the deaths of all muggleborns and muggles are alike, or even just to have them not in their world were blood-traitors.

And yet, his family condoned the marriage. They had been pleased about it. Hell, Aunt Druella wouldn’t stop bragging to his mother how their family had managed to secure two very strong lines for their daughters upcoming marriages. Because even Narcissa was marrying into an old, and dark family who believed the same things.

Was it the destiny of the Black family? To be so dark that they only cared for blood purity? He knew his grandfather had told them that they all have the freedom to choose who they married, but would the rest of their family support it? Would his mother insist he get betrothed to an ancient family who supported the same sort of horrible ideals? Would she threaten to throw him out again if he refused?

Merlin knew that she had already tried several times to threaten him with the fact that she would kick him out of the family for refusing to believe what she did. Merlin knew that he was waiting for the moment she actually did throw him out of the family because she had been trying for the last several years. And he knew she would rather her precious Regulus took over the family, but if he was gone, that honour would go to Draco.

Hell, either of them would probably be better at taking over the family Lordship than he. He was hardly suited for such a world of politics. And even if he did take over, he could never keep the family headed in a path that his family would want. For what he believed in was so different than his mother and father.

“Something on your mind?” he heard his grandfather ask, as he sat down beside him. “You look like you are in a different realm.”

“Why?” he spoked after a moment, unsure of what else to say. “Why did you allow Bellatrix to go through the wedding? After all you spoke about giving us the freedom to choose our own paths for Andromeda when she wanted to marry Ted, why did you allow Bella to marry him when it aligns our family with one so evil as theirs? How is that what is best for our family?”

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” Arcturus told him softly, “I don’t believe in the alliance. I don’t believe their bond with ever truly form, nor do I believe that magic will bless the union enough to allow them to have a child. I believe he wanted her simply out of lust and she wanted him for the convenience. There was not even a mutual respect for each other, which at least is the case for Narcissa and Lucius.”

“Then why approve the marriage?” Sirius asked, confused, “You’re the Head of our house. You easily could have rejected the marriage.”

“I meant what I said when I told you that I wanted my house to have the freedom of who they married. Andromeda wanted Ted because she was in love with him. And just as such, Bellatrix wanted Rodolphus Lestrange. If I didn’t veto Andromeda’s marriage, how could I veto Bellatrix’s if it would make her happy? If it was what she truly wanted?”

“Would you have to make such choices about me someday?” he asked his grandfather, “For the betterment of our house?”

His grandfather shook his head, “Your case is different, Sirius. Of course I’m never going to force you into a union you disapproved of. But at the same time, you will be the Head of this house one day when I’m gone. And that involves carrying the full power of the Black name. You need to be able to make your own choices about our family in order to lead them. Your actions will shape the very course our family takes, especially given the volatile political world as of late. Every action, every decision, matters. And I will give you the freedom to make them as you see fit.”

“Even if it doesn’t align with what our family stands for?” Sirius asked, looking down, “If it doesn’t involve keeping our blood pure?”

“Toujours Pur,” Arcturus recited at him, “It has nothing to do with the purity of our blood as your mother likes to claim, but the purity of our magic. The purity of our actions and our hearts. That we are remaining true to ourselves. If it is time for the Black family to change our course, then it is what we must do. Merlin knows that every Head of this house is different. If what we must do to survive, because it is right, is to go against what so many of us have believed in for so long, then it is what we shall do. Both sides, the light and dark, often forget that there must be a balance of magic. That while Dumbledore wants everyone to be light, and this Voldemort believes in the darkness, we mustn’t forget that that magic demands to have both, and without it, the world falls to chaos.”

He swallowed those words, as his grandfather all but gave him permission to take the family and rule it as he saw fit.

“And if our family disagrees?” Sirius questioned.

“You will be the Head of the Black family,” Arcturus said simply. “It is not their place to question you. Besides, I think you’ll have more support than you think. Especially from your generation.”

He stood at that, and Sirius contemplated his words, wondering just what it meant for the future of the Black family.

Chapter Text

It was January when Lily Evans ranted to her for the first time about the growing prejudice in the school. And in all honesty, with how quickly the world around them seemed to be changing, she was surprised it took so long. More and more people had become outspoken in their hatred and bigotry towards those who they deemed lesser. There would be more and more snide comments from those she knew, in the hallways, and in Hogsmeade on the street.

She was sitting in the library when Lily Evans came in and sat down at their desk, sighing angrily, as Severus Snape tailed behind her, trying not to say anything.

“You look like you have a lot on your mind,” Hermione noted, “Is it my brother again? Do I need to have words with him?”

“No,” Lily sighed, “I mean yes, he’s the usual pain in the ass that he always is, but surprisingly enough, it’s not him that I’m annoyed with. Not today anyways.”

“And who would it be who is frustrating you today, Lily?” Hermione asked drily, knowing that her friend was more often than not annoyed with the behaviour of those at the school. And fairly so; they often could be infuriatingly childish in some of their actions.

“Mulciber,” she hissed, “He made a big scene in class today about how muggleborns aren’t suited to be practising magic due to the fact that we aren’t form ‘old blood’ so we ‘don’t have as much of a connection to our magic that the rest of the world does’. It’s bullocks, that what it is. Absolutely bloody ridiculous. I’m no less worthy than the rest of them just because my parents are muggles! I work just as hard, if not harder, and my grades reflect that! I’m the top student in our entire year, and I’m a bleeding muggleborn! Why should they get to tell me that my magic is not as good as theirs? I am just as worthy as being able to practise magic as them! And yet they have their bloodlines to fall back on! How many of them will get jobs just due to the fact that they have connections in the right places, when the rest of us who are more qualified for the job miss out as a result! I hate it so much! Why does having family magic make a difference? Why does it matter what family you came from?”

“It makes all the difference in the world,” she said calmly, and Lily looked stunned at that.

Which she could understand why. In the eyes of Lily, and Hermione Granger for that, when she first heard of the concept, it seemed like a sort of way to exclude those who were not born into certain families.

“How can you of all people say that?” Lily asked her, looking betrayed, “You, who told me that my blood status doesn’t matter. How can you say that it does now, suddenly? Don’t tell me you believe what they do. That you believe in this Voldemort and the horrible things he’s been saying. Don’t tell me you support him and his discrimination.”

“Blood status doesn’t matter, Lily!” Hermione protested, knowing her friend needed to simply understand what she meant. “It doesn’t make a blood difference who your parents are. You are just as worthy as yielding magic as the rest of us. But family magic is different than blood status, a fact that the world likes to conveniently forget at times. Your family is everything, and the blood that flows through your veins are a part of that. Certain families are disposed towards certain types of magic, and it is familial based. It’s why you’ll find entire generations of families working in certain lines, like the Ollivanders. Because the magic flows through your veins.”

“What, so muggleborns who don’t have any old blood miss out on being able to call their so called ancient powers?” Lily retorted, “Because my magic is just as strong as yours. And I don’t have any family magic to call upon.”

“Yes you do. Why do you think you are exceptionally talented at Charms over everything else?” Hermione asked simply, and Lily paused, “Do you think that muggleborns come out of nowhere? That one day magic just becomes a part of a family line? That’s not how it works Lily. Your parents are squibs. Your grandparents are probably squibs, and so on. But somewhere in your family tree existed someone who held magic. Magic doesn’t die out the way some people believe it does, it just lays dormant. Every witch and wizard have the genes that hold their magic, and somewhere along the line a mutation happens and it prevents the magic from coming through, from allowing the person to access their magic. And that’s why we have squibs. It’s simple biology really. The same reason you have red hair, but your parents and sister do not. Someone in your family at one point had red hair, which is how you can have it too. You have family magic; it’s in your blood as it is in mine.”

She considered Hermione’s words, “No one has ever explained it that way,” she said softly, “Why hasn’t anyone ever told us this? Why has it never been mentioned to us? Shouldn’t we know so we can figure out how to use our family magic?”

Hermione snorted at that, “If you had access to your family magic then the supremacists would lose the leg that they stand on which they claim to be better than you, so they pretend that it isn’t possible. And Dumbledore doesn’t want you to know because he thinks it will be easier to fit in if you aren’t weighted down by ‘unnecessary knowledge’. He doesn’t think it’s something you need to know, but why would he care when he accesses the Dumbledore magic all the time and yet you are denied yours.”

“How do I access it?” Lily asked her desperately. “If I have magic like that, I want to be able to access it. To know where I come from.”

“Get a test done at Gringotts. It will tell you which line you come from. And if you’re lucky, you might have some relatives in the wizarding world. If not, you might just find yourself the Head of a house.”

Lily tried to process what she had just told them, and Hermione didn’t blame her. She had felt so betrayed when she had found out and known that no one had bothered telling her.

Severus had stayed quiet for the entire conversation, and she wondered what was going through the older boy’s mind at that moment. Was he too thinking of claiming his place in the Prince family tree? She knew he didn’t care for his father and had gone by the Half-blood Prince for a reason in his sixth year. Did it merely have to do with wanting to denounce his muggle side as Tom Riddle had wanted to do so many years ago? Or did he want to connect further to his magic?

It was half way through the month when Hermione walked upon the sight of Mary MacDonald on the floor by the dungeons.

“What is going on here?” she seethed as she saw Avery standing above her friend.

“This doesn’t concern you, Potter,” Avery sneered, “Go back to your blood-traitor brother.”

“It concerns me if you are torturing my dorm mate in front of me,” Hermione responded, helping her friend up, “It concerns me when you are torturing my friend.”

“Of course you befriended mudbloods too,” Avery shook his head, “I see the Potter line is completely lost to us then. You are all blood-traitors, starting with your father who goes out of his way to over throw every single bill that could possibly help make our world great again. And instead we are left at the whims of the mighty Albus Dumbledore who thinks he knows best.”

“I stand by my father’s politics,” she defended, “But disagreeing with him does not give you free reign to wreak havoc on the school and torture innocent students. You do not have the right to do so. You do not have the right to do so.”

“What, are you going to tell on me?” Mulciber taunted, “Your brother isn’t here, Potter. He can’t protect you, not against me.”

She laughed at that, “What makes you think I need my big brother to protect me?”

“Locomotor Mortis,” Mulciber yelled, and she didn’t even bother defending it as it bounced off the ring her mother had given her a year ago. “How did you do that?” his eyes widened as he yelled. He threw several more spells at him, which simply bounced off of her as well. But she knew it was a matter of time before he threw an unforgiveable at her, and she hardly wanted to endure that again.

“Stupefy!” She shouted, not wanting to do it wordlessly as she knew it would paint too much of a target on her back. A target she very much did not want on her back, not yet anyways. Not while she was still trying to work so hard behind the scenes.

He fell, stunned, and she helped Mary stand up.

“Are you okay?” she asked her carefully, and Mary let out a watery laugh.

“It seems as you are always coming to save me, Hermione,” she said, trying to brush away her tears quickly.

“You shouldn’t have to be rescued!” Hermione said, frustrated, “You shouldn’t be getting attacked just trying to go to class! It’s not right!”

“Yeah, well they’re usually subtler about it, waiting until after dinner or just before curfew so that there are less people around,” Mary said with a shrug of her shoulders.

“What do you mean they are usually subtler?” she frowned at that, “How many times has this happened, Mary? How many times have you been attacked like this?”

“It wasn’t that bad before, just once or twice really. But since this Voldemort person came out into the public a few months ago, it’s been getting worse. It’s like they finally have free reign and permission to act on their aggression and they go to town on it.”

She felt herself grow furious at the thought, that students would so such horrid things to one another.

“It’s not right,” she whispered. “Not right at all.”

How could she think that she could stop this? That she and Draco would be enough to stop this? That just being friends with certain Slytherins would be enough to stop the hatred between those of different blood statuses? Because the problem didn’t lie within houses. It lay in the fact that people genuinely believed in what they were doing. They genuinely believed that they were better than others for having older blood. And how did one even begin to go about changing their horridly outdated and incorrect views?

Because she and Draco would have to; if the two of them wanted any semblance of being able to stop the war, then they needed to be able to stop the deep hatred that so many felt. There was a reason so many people fought on Voldemort’s side the first time around. Why they flocked back to his side when he came back from the dead in the second war. There was a reason why even after his death so many people still carried out his mission, albeit from a more political point of view. Because they genuinely believed in what they were fighting for.

And sure, some of the people who joined did so out of fear. But Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange, her husband, and brother-in-law, Mulciber, Avery, and so many others, joined because they truly believed in the horrible cause.

She just prayed that they would be able to get through to them, or if they couldn’t that she would be able to stop them, once and for all. Because if they failed, no amount of time travel would be able to help them.

Hermione knew that James Potter was the love of Lily Potter nee Evans’ life. It was hard to not know how much the two of them cared for each other in the future. James was willing to die to protect his wife and child, and Lily to protect their son.

It was hard not to know when Sirius and Remus would tell Harry story after story of his parents together, mainly in their later years of school, each of which it was clear that the two of them held a love that was pure and true.

But to expect that the two of them only ever dated each other would have been extremely unrealistic of her. She knew it took a while for Lily to come around to dating James. And as such, she was more than likely to have dated a few other guys here and there.

She is surprised, however, to find out that the first guy Lily Evans went on a date with was Amos Diggory.

She shouldn’t have been, however. He was a year older than Lily, and by far one of the most handsome guys in his year and those below. So to find Lily squealing about it to her dormmates, including a certain Marlene McKinnon, was not an unexpected sight.

She supposed it made sense that it was him. After all, when Amos Diggory met Harry Potter in their fourth year for the first time, he was filled with an overinflated sense of pride at his family beating Harry’s for once. And more than usual pride for a parent to hold over someone, even if they were famous. Such a pride could have been explained certainly by the fact that Diggory still was annoyed that Lily would later go on to date a Potter.

It didn’t excuse it thought, not even close. And she vowed that if anything even remotely close happened this time around, she would most certainly stand up for her nephew who was the least in the wrong due to the fact that the man was bitter about a break up that had happened over two decades ago.

Lily had been going on about the date that the two of them had for the better part of the last twenty minutes, and Hermione couldn’t help but smile for her friend. For she knew that she and her brother would end up together eventually, that was still a ways off. And in the meantime, Lily was happy. So she listened gladly to anything the girl had to say about how perfect of a gentleman he was, and how he nervously asked to hold her hand, and had kissed her softly at the end of the night.

Amos approached them just then, and Lily’s face lit up brightly as he murmured something to her, and when he extended a hand out to her, she smiled as she slipped her hand through his and stood up from where she had been sitting.

Hermione sighed in relief slightly because she loved her friend dearly, but the last thing she wanted to do was listen to her go on anymore today about the beautiful shade of brown that was Amos Diggory’s eye colour.

Someone, however, who was not pleased by the turn of events was her brother, who had been uncharacteristically quietly about the entire issue. Even though Hermione knew he most certainly had quite a few thoughts on the situation, and that specifically of who Lily was choosing to date.

“I don’t get it,” James grumbled as he sat beside her in the Great Hall as Lily left with Amos, who had wanted to go for a walk with her before curfew. “What does she even see in him? He’s not even that great of a guy. And yet she’s so smitten with him. Why does she reject me time and time again, and yet he asks her out once, and she immediately says yes? How does that make any sense?”

“Maybe because she doesn’t want to date you,” Hermione said softly. “You should respect her feelings, Jamie. You can’t make her love you.”

“I know that,” James sighed, “Of course I know that. It just…it hurts. I care about her so much, and she turns me down so cruelly each time. And I know I pretend it’s fine. But I just want nothing more than to be the one with her. To be the person holding her hand and kissing her goodnight. But if Diggory makes her happy, I suppose I can let it be.”

She smiled at her brother, “That’s awfully mature of you, James,” she said softly as she leaned into him.

“Don’t tell anyone,” he said wryly, “Merlin knows it would absolutely ruin my reputation if people knew I cared.”

“Wouldn’t dream of telling a soul,” she laughed.

He grinned at her, “Good because you better take that secret to the grave, Hermione Potter. Or you and I will be having some words.”

She shook her head at his absolute ridiculousness.

“Don’t worry, Mate,” Sirius clapped him on the back, “We all know she’s far too good for him. It’s only a matter of time before she realizes it too and kicks him to the stands.”

“Yes!” Peter nodded feverently. “She’s far too good for him! But not as great as you obviously. And soon she’ll realize that you’re perfect for each other and you’ll finally be together! It’ll happen, James! Just give it a little bit of time.”

James grinned at his friends, “You guys are the best, you know that?”

Peter preened at that, and Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes at all of them.

“You’re all absolutely ridiculous,” Hermione sighed, “And the only reasonable one of you is not here.”

The three boys exchanged looks, “He’ll be back tomorrow,” Sirius said softly, “And then the two of you can get back to studying for years at a time.”

She smiled sadly, knowing that it was yet another month her friend was spending alone.

“He’ll be okay,” James told her softly.

“I know,” she sighed, and given the fact that her brother and his friends would be joining him in a little less than a year, and she and Draco hopefully whenever they made a decent amount of progress, she knew it was the truth.

When Regulus Black received a letter from his mother that day, he wasn’t sure what to expect. Usually her letters were brief, more of an accompaniment to the sweets that Kreature had made for him.

But today was different. She had wrote to him as a direct result of something Sirius had done.

It shouldn’t have surprised him really, that his mother knew the on goings at school. Sirius had been in detention this year more than he had been out of it, for various pranks and jokes he had made in class. It was no surprise that certain teachers had decided to make his parents privy to exactly what had happened at school.

“What did your mother say?” Draco asked as he sat beside his cousin on the grounds of the school, “You’ve been silent since you’ve received her letter this morning.”

“Is everything alright, Reg?” he heard his brother ask, and looked up to see Sirius hovering over him.

“Am I that easy to read?” he asked, humourlessly.

“Reg,” Draco asked him again, “What was in that letter?”

He wordlessly handed the parchment to the both of them.

My Darling Regulus,

I have received word from the school that your brother has once again been misbehaving at school, and frankly this behaviour of his is absolutely appalling. It is unfit behaviour of the future Head of our house to be engaging in.

I want you to be careful, my darling boy, to ensure that he doesn’t drag you down with his actions. I do not want to see you get caught in the fallout.

We both know that Sirius’ behaviour is unworthy for our family, and it is only a matter of time before your grandfather agrees with my request to have him dispelled as the heir of our house. He is unworthy of carrying the title. Not like Draco or you would be. And in such a case, it will fall to your cousin to carry on our family line. Stay close to him, and distance yourself from your brother. It will make it easier on you through the fallout of it all.

Mother

Sirius snorted, “Of course that crazy bat wants to kick me out of the family. She’s been saying as much from the moment I was sorted into Gryffindor.

Regulus bit his lip, not wanting to speak.

“She is absolutely insane,” Draco agreed with his cousin, to Regulus’ surprise. “If she believes for even a moment that Grandfather would side with her insane request. He’d never disown you, not unless you did something truly unforgiveable. And partaking in pranks is hardly a cause for him to kick you out of the family.”

“What if she manages to get through to him thought,” Regulus asked, scared. “What if Sirius is no longer welcome in our family?”

“Then my first act as the Head of our house will be to reinstate him and gladly step down,” Draco said simply. “I don’t want to be the Head of our house. It was never my place to be, and I never want it to be my place.”

“What if I don’t want it either?” Sirius asked after a moment, “I’d never lead our family in a direction they’d all approve of.”

“I would,” Draco said firmly to both of their surprise. “You would lead our family in the right direction, fighting for what we need to believe in. And don’t think for a moment Andromeda wouldn’t support you either.”

“I would too,” Regulus piped in, “I know you would follow your heart and make sure you do the right thing. You would never fight for what you don’t believe in.”

“There,” Draco said, sounding pleased, “You have support from the majority of our generation. And Merlin knows Narcissa will not care, as she will choose to associate herself now as a Malfoy over a Black regardless of what direction we take. You will be the Head of our house, regardless of what your old bat of a mother says. And you will be absolutely brilliant at it. You’ve always been loyal to a fault, and you know exactly where our house needs to go in order for us to survive; to thrive. And I will gladly follow your lead.”

Sirius looked speechless then, and he pulled the two Slytherins into a hug.

“Merlin I wouldn’t have said it if I knew it meant that you would do this,” Draco grumbled, but Regulus knew that he wasn’t anywhere near as unhappy as his voice suggested.

Regulus smiled, however. It had been hard, reading the letter from his mother, knowing that she was trying to divide up his family. To separate him from the brother he had already felt distant with for the better part of his first year and pit him against his brother by taking the side of his cousin. And if Draco was a worse person, he would gladly take the mantle as the Lord Black, leaving Sirius cast out from the family. And if Grandfather Arcturus approved of it, it would be well within Draco’s right to do so. And yet, he stood his ground, demanding that Sirius remained as the Head of the house, insisting he wanted no part in the power struggle.

He wouldn’t have to choose. He wouldn’t have to choose between what his brother and cousin wanted. For he knew Sirius would gladly run if he felt his family had turned against him. And Draco, as noble as he was, would become the Head if Sirius refused it himself. But he wouldn’t have to choose between the two of them if that time ever came, because both boys refused to stand divided.

Chapter Text

It took until February and countless trips to Little Hangleton to finally find out where the shack that the Gaunts had lived in was.

It didn’t help that it was one of the few Horcruxes Hermione did not aid in obtaining the first time around, and other than brief descriptions Harry could give from the memories Dumbledore had shown him, he had no idea where it was exactly either. Besides, they knew the shack would be in ruins, so it would be hard to find anyways.

And it wasn’t as if they could have asked Dumbledore in any sense where the ring was. Hogwarts had long since fallen when they decided to go back to the past, and they knew it was far too big of a risk to sneak back in to simply ask his portrait. Especially given the fact that the other portraits would be more than happy to rat them out for their mission.

So finding the remains of the shack had proven to be far more difficult than she would have hoped, and it took several Hogsmeade trips and illegal apparations to the village to try and locate it. It most certainly didn’t help that they could only look once a month or so, for if they were to disappear from the school it would only draw questions to where she and Draco were. Questions she didn’t want asked.

“We found it,” Hermione breathed, as he stood in front of a pile of overgrown weeds and bushes.
“This matches the memory Harry showed us of him witnessing the memory and the location where the Gaunts had lived.”

“For a family who bragged so often of their heritage, they lived in a dump,” Draco stated, looking unamused, “I’m not even talking about it like this, in its ruined state. Just the sheer size of their property in comparison to what they bragged to be, the descendants of Slytherin himself. And yet they lived so impoverishedly.”

“They couldn’t access the family vaults,” Hermione said, realizing her theory to be more and more true, “They weren’t worthy of taking the role of Lord Slytherin. The father was abusive, the brother a drunk who was horrible to his sister, and Merope was a victim to her circumstances. They blew the Gaunt fortune but had no access to the Slytherin line in anything more than bragging rights.”

“They were unstable,” Draco commented, “Years of intermarrying meant their power was dying out. There was no new blood, no new lines being tied to theirs as Magic needs to flourish. And even if it was a distant relation it would be better because there would be other magic involved in the line.”

“So many families died out because of it,” Hermione sighed, “They produce squibs, and their lines are lost because when their line re-emerges as muggleborns, no one tells them to trace their history.”

“A problem for another day,” Draco said pointedly, as he raised his wand to detect the protections around the property. “If only we knew what the ring was protected by.”

“If Dumbledore obtained it, it cannot be anything related to magical signatures or blood wards that only Tom can bring down,” Hermione stated. She detected an initial warding charm and brought it down within seconds.

“That was too easy,” Draco murmured, “For Voldemort to only use a simple charm that a second year could have brought down.”

“That was an advanced rune which only those who did beyond NEWT level training could have handled,” Hermione raised a brow at him, “But I agree in which you said it was too easy. I’m sure that was just the first of many.”

They worked for the better part of an hour, dismantling ward after ward, dodging out of the way when things flew at them, and stumbling when they were stung by various wards that they were barely quick enough to disassemble.

“I have no idea if we’re close or not,” Draco commented, “Each ward acts as a shield for the ones that follow so we can’t even begin to detect how many more are left.”

She sighed, as she brought down the seventh ward, as it contained a component which required her to combine three different spells at once, thankfully with Draco’s help. She was getting tired, each ward needed time to figure out exactly what it entailed, and they couldn’t risk doing it incorrectly, as it would most likely lead to the detection spell going off to symbolize intruders at the scene. And the last thing they wanted right now was for Voldemort to show up.

She had no doubt that they would face him eventually. But while none of the horcruxes had been destroyed, she hardly wanted to fight for her life now, in this muggle town with many innocent bystanders who would get hurt, and while there was no one around who could help them. Dumbledore was far away at Hogwarts, and the Order probably hadn’t even been formed yet. The Ministry wouldn’t get involved or if they did it would be too late. So the two of them were truly on their own.

“This one is different,” Draco murmured, as he detected the next ward in front of them. “It’s demanding something of us. It needs a sacrifice of sorts.”

“It’s a blood ward,” she realized then, as she let her magic reach out and detect the ward. “Not in the traditional sense in which it demands the blood line of the caster to use it, but in that it needs our blood to be broken.”

“How much blood?” Draco asked wearily, “I’m not sure how willing I am for one of us to die spilling our blood for this cause. Not yet anyways. Not when we still have so much to do.”

“I’m assuming it’s similar to potion containing the locket,” Hermione wavered, “Not enough to kill you, but enough that you are left in a weakened stage of mind and it is easy for the next step to kill you rather easily.”

“It’s a good thing there is two of us then,” Draco sighed, as he took a knife out of his robes pocket.

“What are you doing?” she startled.

“One of us needs to give blood Hermione,” he said gently, “We’ve come too far now to let this be our stopping point. We need to go through with this and you know that as well as I do.”

“Why does it have to be you?” she asked softly, “I can do it too. It doesn’t need to be you who hurts yourself.”

“We both know that you’re the more capable out of the two of us. And while it would have killed me to have admitted that a lifetime ago, we both know this to be true,” Draco told her, as he took her hand carefully, “If you get hurt doing this, then I know I might be helpless, but you’re the best chance we have of bringing down any remaining runes, healing me, and getting us out of here.”

“If you lose that much blood you won’t be healable,” She retorted, “I can stop you from bleeding out, but you’ll need blood replenishing potions. It will draw questions still.”

“Then we better make this believable,” Draco said with a shrug, as he put away his knife and picked up a rock from the ground. “I fell and hurt myself. You used a simple healing spell to heal it, but you still are in third year, so while you knew the name of the spell it took you a few attempts to get it right. We were on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, still in the village but far enough that it was too hard to get help and my cut was too deep for you to leave me. You were afraid, so you healed me yourself. But I still needed help. Simple enough that there is no need to ask a lot of questions, but enough to explain the severity of my injuries.”

“Draco,” she said throat closing.

“I’m not going to die, Hermione,” he reassured her. “I’ll be okay. And if anyone can pull this off, it will be you.”

She nodded, and he used a jagged edge of the rock to cut his palm and held it over where the wards were. She could see him wince in pain as the blood dripped from his palm and onto the ground.

She could see him grow faint as the ground accepted the sacrifice, before he fell back, and she tried to hold him up.

“It worked,” he said, slightly woozily. “We brought it down.”

She moved forward, to where she could see the ring being concealed. She couldn’t reach out and grab it, not yet. Not when she knew what happened to Dumbledore.

“There’s one last spell,” she murmured to him, as she brought it down, “So faint I nearly missed it. I suppose that’s how Dumbledore did too, too eager to get the ring and slip it on that he didn’t miss the last curse.”

Still, she reached out with a branch and dropped the horcrux into her bag, not wanting to handle it herself.

“Episkey,” she murmured, holding her wand over Draco’s palm as his wound healed in front of her. She wrapped his arm around her shoulder as the two of them went back to the apparition point.

And when she reached the Hogsmeade grounds she played the role perfectly of what Draco had said, and the other students had helped her get back to the school. Sirius practically ran to her side to help carry his younger cousin and drop him off in a hospital bed for Madam Pomfrey to fix. She teared up a bit, playing the distressed role properly. Not that it was hard, as it had been nerve-wracking to watch him collapse in front of her.

“He passed out,” she hiccupped, “I tried to heal him, but I think he lost too much blood. I was so scared.”

James wrapped his arm around her then, demanding to accompany her and Sirius out of worry, not even asking any of the questions she knew he had, especially about what the two of them were doing alone on the Valentines Hogsmeade trip, in an isolated part of the village.

She leaned into her brother and he held her tighter.

“He’ll be okay, dear girl,” the matron reassured her, “You did an excellent job with the spell. If he were with anyone else, he might be in some trouble now, but he was in good hands. He’ll be out of here by tomorrow morning. Go get some rest, it’s getting late.”

“Can I stay with him?” she asked, voice wavering still, as she reached out to take Draco’s hand in her own.

“It’ll be a dull night for him,” Madam Pomfrey warned, “Merlin knows the potion will keep him under. There’s no point in you sitting here with him.”

“I’ll feel better,” she begged, “Please. I need to know he’ll be okay.”

The matron sighed at that, “Only you. Your brother and Mr Black however will need to leave.”

James looked like he wanted to say something, unsure of whether he should be leaving his sister alone for the night, especially with a boy whom he had no idea what she had been doing with him. She wanted to roll her eyes at him, but it was hardly the time or place for her to raise such an issue. She’d sort him out later.

Sirius on the other hand, smirked at her. “Have fun, Hermione,” he teased her as he grabbed James and all but dragged her brother out of the hospital wing as he protested loudly against it.

She sighed, as she sat down beside him and took his hand in hers. This was the second time he had gotten hurt as a result of the two of them trying to obtain the horcruxes, and she couldn’t help but feel directly responsible. She should have been the one who cut herself, not him. She shouldn’t have let him hurt himself, even if he had a point that she was far better at healing magic than he was. He had gotten hurt, and Merlin knew what it would mean for their future attempts.

The news came that morning and filled the entirety of the Great Hall in a solemn silence like she had never seen in her entire life. The only times she could remember it being that bad was after a death; the death of Cedric followed by the announcement of Voldemort’s return. The death of Albus Dumbledore, a feat that had been accomplished by Severus Snape.

Today it had been directly due to the fact that there had been an attack on the biggest muggle city in all of England, especially that of muggle England where millions lived in their homes, had their livelihoods, and raised their families. Where millions thought they were just living an average day without any thought of concern for what their day could bring. Where millions had no idea that in a simple day a single terrorist attack would occur, leaving hundreds dead, and thousands injured. Where hundreds had been placed out of their homes, and buildings had been utterly destroyed.

Except it hadn’t been the work of mere terrorists. It was the work of a dark group of wizards; that’s all they knew for sure. That the attack left magical residue all over it. Untraceable, they said. There was no way of knowing which witch or wizard was directly responsible for the attack. No way of linking it directly to Voldemort, even though in later years of history, especially in her time, it was known as one of the largest attacks in the entire first war. That the whispers of a dark group wearing masks were confirmed to be Death Eaters in the later trials of those involved, carrying out orders from Voldemort directly. It was meant to stir up panic and fear; meant to show that the world that they were done hiding in the shadows and wanted to emerge into the light. That they wanted to put witches and wizards back where they belonged; on the top with muggles underneath them.

They couldn’t link it at the time to Voldemort however, which she could see even know, by reading the paper as writer after writer speculated about who could be responsible for such a heinous crime.  No one knew who was responsible; no one but her and Draco, who did nothing to stop it. Who didn’t warn anyone, didn’t try to get the area evacuated, or get Aurors on the scene. Even if they couldn’t say directly what would happen, couldn’t they have raised alarm bells by giving an anonymous tip?

But they had stayed silent, knowing that if it wasn’t this attack, then the one they would carry out to retaliate would be much worse. That they would demand their blood, and they would get it one way or another.

And now the blood lay on her hands.

“Why would anyone do something so absolutely horrible?” James said, voice shaking, as his face with filled with a mixture of emotions: fear, anger, hatred, and sadness. “How could anyone be a part of such a thing, to kill so many innocent people and not even blink an eye? Where was the Ministry through all of this? Why didn’t they have anything to say about any of this? Why didn’t they stop this? Don’t they have an entire department dedicated to keeping witches and wizards hidden from the muggle world? Instead this is simply going to be painted as a horrible gas explosion and muggles left believing it to be an accident, while we all know it was no such thing. That this was very much intended.”

She shook slightly, and she couldn’t stop her eyes from filling with tears. She was so tired of fighting this war all alone. So tired to feeling responsible for every single life. But how could she not be? was it not her responsibility to try and save as many people as possible? To try and make sure that there were no needless death? Because every single life mattered as much as the other. Every single person mattered just as much. And yet she had focused on a small few. Should they have done it different? Should they have simply gone to Dumbledore, and claimed to be a seer or something? Given him the information of who would die and who wouldn’t and beg him to save them?”

She tried to calm herself; they hadn’t gone to the man for a reason. Because he would insist on letting things play out in his favour. He would care about the greater good over anything else. How many times did he put Harry in needless danger because he needed to let the boy succeed so he can be hailed as a hero?

She shook slightly, tears falling, as she was unable to hold it back any longer. It’s not like she was the only one disturbed by the article, so no one would raise any alarms.

To her surprise, James wasn’t the first to comfort her for once. Instead, Sirius wrapped his arm around her and pulled her in tightly, as she clung onto her brother’s best friend and cried into his chest.

“It’s going to be okay, Hermione,” Sirius reassured her, “They won’t get away with this. I promise you. Whoever is responsible will pay for this.”

He rubbed her back slightly, as he tried to comfort her, and she felt a surge of compassion for the boy she thought to be like a second older brother. And she knew he cared about her the same way, that most of the marauders did. James didn’t say anything about Sirius comforting her, only looking at her with worry, as she let Sirius hold her a bit longer. Even if they didn’t know the horrors that were to come, at least they were there for her. And she and Draco weren’t completely left alone to leave with the mess that was saving the future.

Dumbledore couldn’t even bring himself to face his students as the news of the attack broke. How could he, when he was filled with so much anger at the news of the attack? How could he when he hadn’t stopped pacing for the last twenty minutes, filled with so much rage and fury. Innocent lives were lost; hundreds of innocent lives were in a blatant attack on those the wizarding world deemed to be less worthy than them.

He couldn’t see why so many continued supporting the Dark factions, when it was clear that they were filled with so much anger and hatred towards their own community. They hated muggleborns and half-bloods, but their feelings on muggles was just plain outdated and incorrect. Muggles had stopped being a true threat after the Statute had been passed. Sure, muggles still shouldn’t be allowed to know of their existence, he wasn’t that naïve, but in the current way things were, they hardly were a threat the way things were.

He spotted the paper on his desk, and set it on fire, unable to look at it any longer. How could anyone stare at the fear and horror on the faces of the muggles in the pictures without feeling disturbed? And yet people had willingly taken part in the attack.

He knew he couldn’t prove it was linked to this supposed Voldemort, not when there were no direct links to the man himself. And yet it had Tom Riddle’s ideals written all over it. Tom Riddle, the student who had charmed so many with a few kind words, yet always had a sinister plot. The student who asked him for a job after he had graduated, and all but vanished after Dumbledore had refused him.

It couldn’t be a coincidence that Tom Riddle vanished as this Voldemort appeared. And even if he couldn’t link the two directly, he knew it was far too coincidental to be anything less than them being the same person. How else did one easily explain the fact that all those who bowed down to Tom at school were the first families to support this new Lord who claimed to be a descendant of Slytherin?

Especially given in Riddle’s own time, the beast of Slytherin had been released and murdered a muggleborn student. That the threat of closing the school was all that caused the attacks to stop.

And Hagrid had been left accused and expelled. He was hardly responsible for opening the Chamber of Secrets then nor was he responsible for these attacks now. Of that much Dumbledore was absolutely certain.

It was Tom Riddle who had been responsible for it all, and Dumbledore was almost certain of that fact. The same student who murdered Myrtle Warren and blamed it on Hagrid. The same student who once he had graduated, had begged Dumbledore for the Defense Against The Dark Arts job, and Dumbledore had turned away because he could hardly having the student who had all but controlled the entire school left as a student. Especially as he was certain that it would leave Riddle in a good position to become the future Headmaster. And he could hardly have such a person involved in shaping the young minds of the future, have him poisoning the youths and turning them on the same dark path with nothing more than a few charismatic smiles and gentle words.

But if he had simply given Tom the job then, would things be different now? Would it have been enough to sate Tom’s appetite for power? Would it have been enough for him? Or would he wanted more even then? Would it have still lead to the same outcome, just by having taken a different road? Or would this Lord Voldemort never have existed? Would there be far less deaths that occurred as a result? Would the attack have even happened if Dumbledore had simply given the man the job?

It was a dangerous road that he was going down with such a train of thought, but how did he not blame himself from seeing it? He knew the boy was evil from the moment he had set eyes on him in the orphanage. And if only he had let the boy be; claimed that it had been a mistake and left him in the muggle world. Or if he had taken care of the boy and locked him in Nurmengard with Grindelwald. There were so many things he could. Have done differently, but he knew that not letting Tom Riddle become the new Defense teacher was not something he could bring himself to regret. Not when he had a feeling that it would be a bad idea, a feeling he still stood by and knew to be the right decision.

Except it didn’t change the fact that so many innocent people were left dead due to the attack that occurred. How did he not bear the brunt of that guilt? He should have at least have been there, to have stopped countless hooded witches and wizards from terrorizing so many innocents. But by time he had found out it was too late.

Voldemort was created by a variety of factors, but it should have been Dumbledore who brought him down, before he was even born. He should have stopped Tom Riddle then, before all this had happened. But it was too late to change any of that. If he couldn’t have stopped Tom Riddle from becoming Voldemort, then he could stop Voldemort from gaining all the power he desired. He still was the most powerful wizard in the world; he had brought down Grindelwald for Merlin’s sake. And as long as he lived, Voldemort would never gain control of the wizarding world. That much he promised.

Chapter Text

Hermione Granger focused on many things while she was in school. She focused on making sure she was always at least a month ahead in all her courses, on making sure that all her essays were usually a foot or so longer than the required limit, on making sure she kept Harry and Ron out of whatever trouble they were finding, and on trying to fit into a world that she was all but thrown into.

At any given moment, she was always focusing on many different, and usually academic inclined matters. So it was safe to say that she rarely noticed boys.

Sure, she was aware they existed, and that others her age dated. And she was very much smitten with Viktor Krum when he began courting her in her fourth year. She also was very much jealous of the relationship between Ron and Lavender while in sixth year. She wasn’t utterly opposed to the idea of romance and dating, it just never had been a priority to her before.

And now, with memories of wars, a past life, and a mission she couldn’t fail, it was hardly as if dating anyone was a priority. She knew in the future she could always choose to date, get married, and have a life here, but it didn’t matter right now. How could it when Voldemort was on the rise, creating chaos in his wake.

It didn’t seem to stop the rest of the school from finding love. What with Lily and Amos dating, James lusting after her, Remus being forced on date after date, and Sirius taking up a mantle as a ladies’ man. Or at least as much of a ladies’ man one could be at fifteen years old. He flirted with a different girl every week, took a different girl to Hogsmeade every trip, and spent many nights with girls in empty classrooms, under the Quidditch stands, or in broom closets. And while she many not necessary approve of the behaviour, she hardly was going to stop him. He was young, and happy, something which he very much deserved given the twist of fate he was given in the past timeline. Maybe this time he would get a chance to be happy, be it in a relationship or marriage, or just focusing on his own happiness by living a bachelors’ life. Either way, he deserved to make that choice and not be thrown into a prison for the better part of his early adult years for a crime he never committed.

But out of all girls Sirius had flirted with, he had never attempted to flirt with her. And she didn’t feel bad about it, she knew he would never try anything with his best friend’s little sister. Let alone the fact that he cared about her as a sibling as well. So it was no surprise to her really, for she knew neither of them wanted to be with the other in a romantic sense.

So when Sirius sat down beside her on the grounds of Hogwarts where she and all the boys were sitting, and wrapped an arm around her, she couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

“If it isn’t my favourite girl,” he said, smiling at her.

“If it isn’t my favourite Black,” she teased back, and Regulus looked affronted at that.

“Only Black?” Sirius asked, pouting slightly, “Not favourite bloke?”

“I think James won that title years ago,” she laughed, “Sorry.”

“I suppose I can concede that,” Sirius said dramatically, “As long as you admit I’m your favourite non-related friend.”

“You’re technically my cousin,” she pointed out, “Draco is less related to me than you are.”

“Well Blacks are known for intermarrying,” he said, wiggling his brows and she broke out into a laugh.

“Stop flirting with my sister, Sirius,” James said, looking irritated, “She’s not one of your girls that you snog under the stairs.”

She was too busy smiling at her friend and brother’s ridiculousness to notice the look of annoyance on Draco’s face throughout the entire ordeal, clearly just annoyed at Sirius.

“Don’t worry, Jamie,” Hermione rolled her eyes. “Sirius isn’t my type anyway.”

James looked even more startled at that, “Why do you have a type? Why are you even paying attention to boys at all? Aren’t you far too young for this?”

“Plus he’s older than you,” Draco argued, “He shouldn’t be flirting with you anyways.  Not when you’re a year younger than him and such.”

She sighed at her brother and at Draco, “You both are ridiculous. Completely and utterly ridiculous. I do notice blokes you know.”

“Well…don’t,” James said, looking irate, “Boys are the worst. They take up all your time, demand all your attention, and want nothing good. You’re far better than any guy, Hermione! Don’t waste your time dating.”

She kissed her brother on the cheek just then, “Don’t worry, James. I’m not interested in dating anyone right now. I have other priorities. Besides we both know that Sirius would never actually consider dating me nor would I consider dating him. We’re too much like siblings.”

“Why waste time on boys when you can get years ahead studying, right Hermione?” Remus teased her, and she blushed slightly at that.

James looked appeased by that, she laughed as he nodded in agreement, “Yes do that! See look at Lily for example. She used to put in so much work and effort into her school work, and now she’s distracted all the time by Diggory. Boys are no good, I tell you. You’re far better without dating anyone, Hermione. They just weigh you down.”

“Says the boy who spends all his free time trying to woo Lily still,” she retorted.

He nodded sagely at that, “Think about all the pranks I could be planning instead. Romance is a waste of time, and I stand by that point.”

“Say what you will Mate,” Sirius rolled his eyes, “It may be a waste of time but it’s bloody well fun to sneak around with girls.”

She laughed simply at that, “You’re all utterly ridiculous.”

“And you love us anyways,” Regulus grinned and she simply shook her head in agreement.

Peter sat in his dorm room as he watched Remus leave the room looking pale and exhausted. Despite going through monthly transformations, he knew it still strained him to undergo the process.

When he had first found out that his friend was a werewolf, he hadn’t responded immediately. Not like James and Sirius who had all but tackled Remus with emotional support, insisting that they didn’t care and that they loved him regardless of it. He hadn’t been as quick to respond and let his friend know that he didn’t care, because frankly it was a little terrifying. He knew Remus was a good person; hell he was one of the first to be kind to Peter.

But being a werewolf was different. It was horrifying to think that he could turn into a beast each month, who wasn’t in its right mind and if something went wrong, Remus could maul half the school. Of course he knew it would never be allowed to happen. Dumbledore probably would make sure of it.

And he cared about Remus. How could he not? The boy, Sirius, and James were his best friends. Even if sometimes he felt like a bit of an outsider on their friendship. He hated watching his friend grow ill each month leading up to the full moon, and go through the transformation, then spend several days in the hospital wing afterwards recuperating from the process.

“I hate this,” James sighed as they watched Remus go. “I hate feeling so powerless each month as he’s out there, all alone.”

“Me too,” Sirius said, looking upset. “It’s hard watching him go through it all alone.”

“Especially after,” James said, “He always talks far less the day after, as if he’s afraid he’ll turn back at any moment and needs to distance himself from us.”

“You can see how clearly he tries to hide all of his pain,” Sirius mentioned, “As if we cannot see that it’s killing him inside to go through it all on his own.”

“He hates having to depend on us,” James sighed again, “As if he feels like he’s burden. I don’t know why he would think that he is. He didn’t choose this! He didn’t ask for this to be his life. He was forced into it! Why would we push him away or choose to shun him for something he very much did not have control of?”

“Because he’s an idiot,” Sirius said frustrated, “He doesn’t judge us for anything, even when we deserve it. Why would we push him away or make him feel any worse for such a thing. He needs to get his head out of his arse.

“I just wish we could join him,” James said, looking around the room. “Then he wouldn’t have to be alone anymore. Then at least he would know he had people who cared about him enough to make sure he was okay. Merlin knows he deserves to know that he’s loved and cared for regardless of his furry little problem.”

“I hate that his father puts him through a cage every month when he’s at home,” Peter said for the first time since the conversation had started.

“It’s inhumane!” Sirius breathed angrily, “How anyone could do that to their child, I’ll never understand. Not that my parents are the epitome of good parenting.”

“How far are we?” James asked, as he pulled out the library book they had been borrowing for the better part of the last two years.

“We need to try drinking the potion during a thunderstorm again,” Sirius said looking at their notes, “Merlin knows we’ve had a lot of disasters along the way. I can’t believe you swallowed the leaf the first time the day before we were supposed to remove it!”

“I couldn’t help it!” James defended. “It got unstuck to my mouth and I was chewing a steak! I didn’t do it on purpose. Besides, you’re the one who accidently got a dew of water that had seen sunlight and ruined our potion last time.”

“Yeah well this whole becoming animagi thing is rather hard,” Sirius said with a roll of his eyes. “I mean even full-grown witches and wizards make mistakes doing it.”

“And yet we’re doing it anyways,” Peter said, extremely proud, “Despite the fact that it’s ridiculously hard.”

“Well it’s really the only way we can help Remus,” James said with a sigh, “Merlin knows we would have started trying sooner if we weren’t sure we would have messed up right away if we didn’t at least try and do research it a bit.”

“For once,” Sirius amended, “It’s fine to do poorly in school. But I don’t want to end up some sort of hybrid if we do this wrong.”

“We’re nearly there,” James said determinedly, “We’ll get it right this time; I’m sure of that. We’ll get it right and we’ll manage to become animagi so we can be with Remus during his transformations so he doesn’t have to go through it alone. Merlin knows he deserves far better than that. He deserves to know that he’s cared about. And I’ll spell it into his head if that’s what it takes for him to finally believe us.”

Peter felt proud of all of them as they tried, month after month, to become animagi. It was a big deal, and not many were able to successfully accomplish it. If they could, it would be huge, and would mean Peter would be able to do something not many others could. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like if the situation was reversed. If Peter was the one who went through monthly transformations, would the boys still put in effort to transform into animagi for him? Or would they let him suffer on his own?

Hermione Granger had hated Petunia Dursley from the moment she became friends with Harry. The boy hadn’t exactly opened up often to her, but it was the small things he would say which would get her to think that something was very, very wrong with the way she was treating his nephew. The fact that he would get used clothes, or small muggle change for Christmas. Or be forced on diets because her son was overweight when clearly Harry was very malnutritional himself. Or the fact that he seemed over eager for any sort of parental figure in his life. That he felt the loss of a parent for the first time when Sirius had died, whom he had loved far more than his aunt and uncle.

She had a lot to say on his upbringing, and it broke her heart that her friend was even in such a situation in the first place. He didn’t deserve to be sitting there, constantly wondering if he would be in trouble for something he did, to have him offer to do things for them out of love. For while she looked out for the boys in maternal nature, she knew Harry looked after them the same way, wanting to make sure that they were all okay. He was the first to comfort her when she was upset about something, even if he thought he had to pick sides between her and Ron during fights in their earlier Hogwarts years. And thankfully in their older years he learned to stay out of it and she never had to worry about losing him as a friend. He grew out of most of the things his Aunt and Uncle had to instill in him, but he still had a hard time asking for things he truly wanted. He was careful with his money, as if he was certain at any time he would have it taken away from him, only using it for necessities and small indulgences. He barely even bought any clothes for himself that weren’t required for school.

And she knew his aunt had contributed a lot to his pain. While his uncle might have been responsible for instilling the need to fit in into him, his aunt was his blood relation. The one who should have told him about his mother, even if not his father. Who should have told him at least about his maternal grandparents. Who should have let him know he had family who loved him. Instead, he was treated like an unwanted set of help around the house, and never felt like he had a true place of belonging. He only even got a bedroom because his letters from Hogwarts were addressed to the boy under the stairs.

So it wasn’t a surprise to her to learn that Lily and Petunia Evans did not have a good relationship either. Lily never talked about it, not explicitly, but she knew from the subtle glances she and Severus shot each other when James was overprotective of Hermione, or Regulus gave Sirius a look of pride at something he did. The bond of a sibling relationship which Hermione too had craved so badly while she was in school. She loved her parents, but she would give anything to have a family member who understood what she was going through.

It was why when she heard soft sobbing in an alcove near the Gryffindor common room, she stopped, knowing instantly who it was.

“Lily?” Hermione asked softly, as she moved towards where the sounds were coming from. “Is everything alright?”

She saw Lily sitting there, quickly wiping away her tears as she tried to smile at her, “I’m fine,” she said, with a watery smile.

She sat down beside her friend, “You can talk to me, you know,” she said gently, “Whatever it is that it troubling you, I don’t mind listening to you.”

Lily was silent for a moment before speaking, “I have an older sister, Petunia,” Lily said, “I’m sure you knew that. She’s a muggle through, so she’s not here at school with me. We were close, once upon a time. I used to look up to her so much; she was the best big sister I ever could have asked for. She took care of me while our parents were busy, nursed any scrapes or cuts I got, always snuck me a cookie from the jar I was too tiny to reach. She was amazing, and I wanted nothing more than to be like her. Then I started displaying accidental magic.”

Hermione didn’t say a word. She had heard of Petunia’s relationship with Lily in the past timeline from others, as had Harry, but had never heard the raw pain in her voice.

“She thought it was amazing at first, and we’d play around for hours, as I would try and do things like make flowers float or make myself fly. It wasn’t until I met Sev that he told me that I was a witch. And that wouldn’t have been a big deal, but he also told Petunia that she’s a muggle. And while it’s not my place to tell you about Severus’ life, he doesn’t have the best relationship with his muggle family. So for him, he thought Petunia would hate me for being special, so he was harsher to her than necessary. It was the first time she called me a freak,” Lily said, tears streaming down her face once more.

“It’s only gotten worse over the years,” Lily continued, “I thought we’d be able to work past it one day, but her insults got colder, and well now-”

She broke out into sobs as she handed Hermione the letter.

Lily,

Do not continue to write to me. I do not need my friends asking questions about why owls are at our house constantly or why your letter looks like it is from the medieval times. I have nothing to say to you, nor do I want to.

Petunia

Hermione was left speechless at the impersonal nature of the letter. Even from Petunia, the girl’s older sister, it was cold.

“I’m sorry,” Hermione said softly, “I can’t even imagine what it must be like for you.”

“Despite all my faults with your brother, I can’t deny that he loves you with his entire heart,” Lily said softly, “I just wish my sister could care about me the same way.”

She squeezed Lily’s hand gently. “Sometimes family isn’t those who share the same blood as us. Sometimes it’s those we surround ourselves with, who love us at our lowest and at our highest. If Petunia cannot see what an amazing sister you are, she doesn’t deserve you in her life. And for what it’s worth, I consider you to be family to me. The big sister I never had.”

Lily gave her a grateful smile, as she pulled Hermione into a tight hug.

“Where did you come from, Hermione Potter,” Lily said in wonder, “You come into my life all those years ago, and all of a sudden I’m left with so many friends and those who I know care about me. All because you wanted to study with me.”

“You were my first friend at school,” Hermione told her softly, “The first friend who didn’t just want to protect me because they were friends with my brother. I love the boys and I consider them friends, but you were the first to be kind to me. And I just want you to remember that regardless of what happens in life, I’ll always be here for you.”

Lily looked at her gratefully, and Hermione held onto the girl as they sat there. Petunia might never come around to thinking of Lily differently, but at least Lily would have family despite her.

Severus Snape had heard the whispers for months. Of a Dark Lord who would save them all from hiding in the shadows. How once he walked in the light, none of them would ever need to hide ever again. None of them would ever have to hide how they felt ever again about the desires to keep themselves pure.

He knew in the old days, it hadn’t been like this. Slytherins were allowed to speak their minds and mention how they felt about certain matters. Then Grindelwald had come along, with similar beliefs, but had massacred the masses. The Dumbledore emerged victorious from their duel. And all of a sudden, it became taboo to speak the truth. It became taboo to talk about how one felt. The world went from being a balance between light and dark magic, to having dark magic rampaging, then light reigning. The balance in beliefs were gone, and Dumbledore to blame.

Then came along a wizard who promised that they wouldn’t have to hide their true feelings anymore. That they’d be able to proudly speak their minds on how they felt without fear of persecution or judgement.

The whispers of this man got louder and louder. How he was the heir of Slytherin, and how he would turn the world over on itself. How they’d never have to hide in the shadows ever again from the muggles.

And Severus Snape hated his father with a passion. The man was an abusive drunk. But he was not the same as all muggles. And to kill them all in the masses because he hated his father was wrong.

It was no surprise when he found himself dragged into a corridor that was abandoned after classes one day. He had been expecting it to happen for months, and it finally had.

It wasn’t a surprise that it was Nott and Avery who had pulled him into the hallway.

“Can I help you?” he drawled at them, hiding the nervousness he felt, and both boys ignored him.

“You must have heard the rumours, Severus,” Nott said as he peered down at the boy, “Of a Dark Lord rising in the shadows over the past few years. Making promises of saving the world from the horrors we have faced time and time again. To make our world pure again.”

“And if I have?” Severus simply raised a brow at him, “What difference does it make?”

“You’re a smart boy,” Avery said, “Nearly the top of your year. Your Potions skills are extraordinary. And I know you excel at Defense, so I can imagine what you could do with actual Dark magic. And you’re certainly skilled at all your other courses. We could use someone like you in our ranks, fighting for what we believe in, and what is right.”

He didn’t comment on the fact that both boys were speaking as if they were already recruited for the supposed Dark Lord.

“And what if I’m not interested?” Severus raised a brow.

“You should be,” Avery moved closer to him, “There’s a war coming. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but soon. You’ll need to pick a side in it, Snape. And you most definitely are not a light wizard. You run around with mudbloods and blood traitors, and it will not be tolerated for much longer. You’ll need to pick a side once and for all.”

“I know exactly where I stand in it all,” Severus said, standing taller, “And I’m perfectly fine where I am.”

“You should reconsider,” Nott said, as he appraised him, “You could be offered so much if you think this through properly. You’d be introduced to all the right families who could offer you connections that you couldn’t even imagine. You could get any apprenticeship you wanted, work anywhere you wanted. And despite your mother’s family name, you do not have her connections. Not without claiming your Prince heritage. Don’t you deserve the same chances of success as Potter and Black who’ve never had to work for anything in their entire life? You, who deserve it far more than they do?”

He didn’t say anything at that. How could he when they were right? The wizarding world still relied on familial magic and connections, neither of which he possessed. And with the right connections he’d be able to succeed beyond his wildest dreams.

Chapter Text

Eugenia Jenkins had been a capable Minister of Magic for the dates in which she ruled over the wizarding world of England. No one could deny that she had been more than capable of dealing with the pureblood riots that had occurred during the Squib Rights Marches during the late 1960’s.

It was why when the news of Dark wizards, namely pureblood wizards, had started protesting muggleborn rights in their world, everyone had turned once again to Jenkins, believing that she would be more than capable of dealing with yet another sort of riots.

Of course, it wasn’t a matter of mere protesting, as it had been a few years ago. No, it was greater than that now. It had to do with violence and attacks, deaths at their doorsteps, and so many of different blood statuses being scared for their lives.

So while Eugenia Jenkins might have been more than capable of dealing with a political protest, she most definitely was not capable of dealing with the war that was yet to come.

And while the Wizengamot was hopeful it wouldn’t come to that, Fleamont knew better than to place all his quaffles in that net. He knew it was likely that those insisting it wouldn’t go to war were running off of fear of what another wizarding war would do to them, or the belief that if they did go to war, the side they belonged to, the small Dark faction who supported this Voldemort, would win. And while England might have been able to have escaped the last war, due to Grindelwald’s fear of Dumbledore, they had still read the papers of the horrors that had occurred. They still knew what could happen to them if things got as bad as it had been during Grindelwald’s peak terror of reign. And that was absolutely the last thing that any of them had wanted.

It was why the vote had been almost unanimous that day in Wizengamot, to oust Eugenia Jenkins as the Minister of Magic. For once she was a capable witch in charge, she was not capable of dealing with such a crisis this time around.

The vote to elect a new Minister had been close. While a lot of the Dark faction had wanted to elect an older official such as Abraxas Malfoy or Thaddeus Nott, and the Light once again threw out a nomination for Albus Dumbledore, who swiftly declined, and replaced his own nomination with that of Elphias Doge. Of course the old man would nominate someone whom he considered a close ally, and thus someone he would be able to easily manipulate if he so needed to.

It was Harold Minchum, who the neutrals nominated, that got the majority of the votes, and thus became the new Minister of Magic.

Thank Merlin for that. They needed someone Grey at the moment. Not a Dark wizard who clearly supported Voldemort and would push forwards pieces of legislation that benefited their cause, or another Light wizard who would spew anti-dark policies out of fear, and thus force more dark wizards over to Voldemort’s side out of fear of persecution. No, a Grey wizard could for them in these trying times and might even be enough to stop the rising horrors that were Voldmort and the reign of terror which he wished to inflict on the world around them.

With Minchum, and Bartemius Crouch, the ruthless Council of Magical Law judge, who was well on his way to becoming the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, their side may just stand a chance at bringing down the threat that was Voldemort and the horrors he planned to bring down on their door step.

He wasn’t necessarily pleased by the turn of events, but he knew that the Wizarding world would not be able to go without retaliation for long. Especially with the recent attack on muggle London still fresh on so many of their minds, it was no surprise that they wanted a change, that they demanded something be done to make up for the mass loss of life that had occurred on all their watches. For they had allowed Voldemort to gain as much power as they had without stopping him or trying to put an end to it.

With his own son who would be going into his fifth year of schooling very soon, and his daughter who was finishing her third year of school, he didn’t want this to be a problem that dragged on for too long. He wanted it resolved, sooner rather than later, so his children would not have to fight in this war that was coming their way. They deserved a chance at a normal life, which didn’t involve them facing a war. He knew all too well what it was like, growing up with war all around him, the fear and the pain he had felt all too fresh in his mind from when Grindelwald nearly took control over all of Europe just a few decades ago. He didn’t want that as a life for his children, to be fighting in wars that children had no place in. He wanted them to have normal lives, to fall in love, to have children and great careers. He wanted them to know nothing of suffering or pain. He wanted them to live lives where they could grow to be successful and never have to worry about the horrors that Voldemort could bring down on them all.

He locked eyes with his brother-in-law from across the chambers and could see a similar look of contemplation over the man’s face. They would have a lot to discuss in their coming meetings, such as how to ensure that this Minchum character would be what was best for their political agendas. They couldn’t have a Minister who went corrupt due to pockets that opened all too easily. No, they needed someone who would put an end to this problem once and for all, so it would not drag out for decades to come.

It was the end of May before the boys were able to finally make it all the way through a successful iteration of the process of becoming animagi without messing up any of the steps and having to start once again. Something which had happened far too many times over the years for James to want to have to go through again. He loved Remus, the boy was his brother, and he would go through the process as many times as they needed to, to finally get it right. But it didn’t make it any less frustrating each time when they got it wrong and had to repeat the process over again. He swore the taste of mandrake was becoming permanent in his mouth.

It didn’t help at all that for a country that was almost always filled with rain, June didn’t seem to rain at all. It was unusually sunny and dry, meaning the chances of an electrical storm were extremely rare, despite the fact that James and Sirius checked the weather using the necessary spells almost several times a day. It also didn’t help that since they were trying to keep it a secret, they had to sneak out early every morning and late every night to chant the incantation every sunrise and sunset while they waited for the storm to occur.

It meant that the boys had not gotten a lot of sleep lately, and he knew it was beginning to show on their faces by the way Hermione kept shooting them worried looks. He couldn’t tell her though, how could he when he knew what they were doing was dangerous? When she would be scared out of her mind to know why they wanted to become animagi. It was one thing to support their friend who when through the process. It was a completely other thing to want to run around with him month after month so he didn’t have to go through the entire process alone. He knew it was stupid and reckless of them. But he also knew that it wouldn’t be enough to stop them, not when they were tired of watching Remus beat himself up month after month for something he had no control over. Not when they were absolutely tired of watching him get hurt because of it. He deserved far better than that, and he deserved to know that he was loved.

And if they had to go through the entire cycle once more to become an animagi then they would, again and again until they got it right, because Remus deserved to face it with people he loved and knew loved him. He deserved that much. So they would do whatever it took to finally get it right.

“James!” Peter said running into the room, as James sat on his bed, tossing a quaffle into the air as he nearly missed it on its way back down due to the interruption.

“Peter,” he said, as he caught it at the last minute, before sitting up, “What’s up, Mate? You terrified me.”

Peter looked around the dorm quickly, to make sure Remus wasn’t there, and of course he wasn’t. He was busy in the library with his sister doing some last-minute studying for their exams, despite the fact that he knew all too well that neither of them needed it.

“There’s a storm coming,” Peter said, “It got dark all of a sudden before anyone knew it. It should start raining any moment now.”

He stood up quickly and pulled out the potion they had been brewing for the last few months this time around, as he grabbed the set of instructions.

“We need a large place,” James said, “We should go to the Astronomy tower. Not many people go up there during storms, despite it being perfectly safe.”

Peter nodded, as he and James picked up all the supplies.

“Raining!” Sirius said huffing, as he ran into the room and he tried to catch his breath. “It’s time.”

“We need to go,” James nodded, as the boys ran towards the tower, dodging all the students they saw. They ducked around several teachers, not stopping to explain themselves. It would do no good to get caught now. Not when they were so close to finally getting it right.

They made their way up the stairs to the tower, and to their relief, it was perfectly empty. 

The rain began to pour harder, as thunder rumbled in the background when they entered the tower.

“We need to chant the incantation,” Sirius said, reading off their parchment of instructions, “Then drink the potion.”

“That’s it?” Peter squealed.

“Did you want it to be harder?” James asked him with a shake of his head, “After every other step of this process, we could use a simple step.”

They stood around in a circle as they placed their wands to their chest “Amato Animo Animato Animagus,” They chanted in unison as the lighting began to strike around them. “Amato Animo Animato Animagus.”

Their wands glowed brightly and after it died out, Sirius held up his vial of potion, as each of the boys did the same. He held it up to them, “Bottoms up,” he said, and James grinned.

“It’s finally time,” he murmured, before raising his vial of potion to his lips, and drank it slowly.

He tried not to make note of the taste, and before he could say anything, he felt his bones shift inside of him, changing and growing as he felt himself transform for the very first time. He looked around to where Sirius and Peter were standing to see a dog and rat in their places. Whatever he was, he was a lot taller than them both. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the window pane and saw a stag looking back at him. He grinned at the boys as he turned back to his human self.

“We finally did it!” James said, with a cheer. “Now we can join Remus.”

“Now we have to convince Remus to let us join him,” Sirius corrected, and Peter groaned. Because that was probably the hardest step of it all.

“We can’t do anything until September anyways,” James reminded them, “His father will definitely not let us join him. So we tell him then what we’ve done, and we convince him to let us join him.”

They all nodded in agreement. The days of Remus suffering alone were long gone.

Draco sat in their section of the library as he watched Hermione attempt to meditate upon her Animagus form. It wasn’t a step taken by many, as it wasn’t always necessary. However, by doing so, it meant that the two of them would have a bit more control over the form their Animagus shape would take.

And while there was nothing wrong with simply going about the regular process, but by choosing to mediate then they would be able to decide their fate. Or at least be aware of what their form would be before they went through the remainder of the process. If any of them were turning into rats any time soon, at least they would be aware of it.

If they were going to go through all the work to become animagi, then the least they could do was at least carry out all the steps properly to ensure that they did it as were trying to gain a skill that not many full-grown witches and wizards were able to achieve properly. Of course, it did help that they weren’t exactly the average teenage witch or wizard, and far more skills under their robes than many others did.

The only problem involved the fact that it involved meditation, a skill with no way of being able to tell if they were doing it right. Not unless one were completely focused with every single fibre of their being concentrating solely on the animagi process to determine what their shape was.

And for Hermione to have to turn off her mind at any given moment and focus solely on one singular thing was rather hard for her. It was something he knew all too well as he watched her nose scrunch up as she tried hard to focus only on one thing and let her mind forget everything. He watched her try and push out all other thoughts of how she felt with the war beginning to pick up all around them, or why she wanted to become an Animagus so badly. He watched her, knowing her mind was still racing, thinking a billion and a half different things, instead of being able to just recite the incantation over and over again as her mind remained clear and on the task on hand.

She let out a sigh and he couldn’t bring himself to look away at her, as her hair was pushed behind her ears and her face looking exhausted as she tried over and over again to bring herself to concentrate. Her robes were slightly disheveled from having attempted meditating successfully for several hours, with no success. Her lips were chapped from biting, and her eyes looked worn out.

It hit him like a train, as he found himself staring at the girl before him: she was still beautiful, even in her state of exhaustion. It was hard to deny it, especially having been given a past life with her. She was beautiful then, just as she was now.

It wasn’t as if he had ever attempted to deny that fact from himself, at least the older he got. At first, he hated it. He hated the fact that he was so attracted to her, when she was supposed to be his enemy. The girl who was best friends with his nemesis, and who she would most likely end up with. The girl who was everything he was taught to hate, and yet, was everything he wanted. The girl who defied all odds time and time again, and always came out on top. The girl who fought a war for what she believed in. The girl who punched him in the face all those years ago. The girl who had gone back in time with to try and save the world. The only one in the entire universe who knew the truth of what was to come, and the only one who knew the horrors they had faced.

Even when he felt stressed out of his damned mind, she was there to understand just what they had gone through. She was there to allow him to feel as if he wasn’t truly alone and that they would bear it together. They would fight in this together.

It was exactly why he couldn’t tell her the truth of how he felt. That he cared about her, that he had cared about her even before they had left, despite not having the time or emotional strength to figure out that he had feelings for her then. How could he when people were dying all around them? How could he now when people were starting to die around them once more?

It didn’t matter if he cared for her, not when there was a war at their doorsteps. Not when so many would die if he allowed himself to get distracted. How could he even think of telling her about how he felt when he knew that she would never jeopardize the future as a result of his feelings.

They came back to save everyone, not for him to fall in love with her and ruin everything.

It didn’t matter that every time he took her hand in his, he felt safe with her, felt at home with her. It didn’t matter that he would gladly do whatever ridiculous thing she wanted, like run around with a werewolf every full moon. That he would follow her into this battle, fighting right alongside with her.

Now was not the time for his feelings.

Dumbledore paced around his study, growing frustrated as he threw yet another article on his desk about how some writer for the Prophet believed that this so-called Lord Voldemort could be the best thing for politics in a while. That he offered a different suggested to the so called only correct way of thinking.

That it was time for a change, and time that people were allowed to feel about magic the way the wanted to once more, without having fear of retribution. Which was absolutely ridiculous. Dark Magic was dark for a reason. It involved hurting innocents with magic to achieve one’s goal. Something he knew all too well.

He had lost his own Arianna because he had been obsessed with the power that Dark magic could afford him. The power it gave, and the desire to obtain the Deathly Hallows. A power he craved so badly, that his sister had been lost, and his brother stopped talking to him. It was why he stopped being a grey wizard when he stopped practising Dark magic all together, focusing solely on the light. It was why he had brought down Grindelwald, his once love, as he had been corrupted by the darkness, and had lost himself. He had hurt, killed, so many innocents in order to achieve his goals.

Dark magic was evil, it really was. It burned through a witch or wizard and corrupted their very soul. It left only a shell of them behind. And he had seen it happen first hand. It was why he tried to save Britain, by pushing them towards a lighter future. It was why he tried to steer Slytherins away from the darkness, even if it meant unfairly punishing them to get them to see that their ways were wrong. He just wanted to save them from what happened to Gellert. He couldn’t watch yet another person go down that road of darkness, only to return a shadow of who they once were. To be so consumed by the darkness that they couldn’t see what they were doing was incredibly wrong.

And yet, history was repeating itself. Here was a younger wizard, who claimed the same things Gellert did. That it was time they stopped hiding in the shadows from muggles. That they deserved to live in the light once more. That he would do whatever it took for them to save themselves from subjugation.

It was the same things Gellert and he had spewed all those years ago; For The Greater Good. Just wrapped around different words and decades later.

But he had seen the horrors that such words had brought. He had hidden from it for years, unable to see the man whom he had loved, who had killed his sister, knowing that it would have to be him who brought down his love. It would have to be him who stopped him before he went too fall and brought the world down to ashes.

And here it was, happening again decades later.

He had known the moment he laid eyes on Tom Riddle. Known he carried the same darkness that Gellert once carried. That he took carried at one time. That he would go on to do the same horrible things that Gellert once did. That he would want the same power. He saw it when Riddle spoke of how he controlled those kids in the orphanage. How the students at school flocked to his side. How the girls wanted to marry him, and the boys gladly followed every word he said, and did every single thing he instructed. How the teachers were wrapped tightly around his finger. How he was able to spin any tale if necessary. And no one, except he, could see the same shadow of Gellert in him. The desire to bring down the world to its knees.

Perhaps it had been only because he knew Gellert as a child that he could see the same connection.

It was why when this Lord Voldemort surfaced that he knew immediately that it was Tom Riddle. Because he had all but vanished after Dumbledore had refused him the job. And it was only a matter of time before he surfaced, demanding the power he craved. Demanding the world follow him blindly, no matter the consequence.

It was how he also knew that Riddle was involved in all the attacks that had been taking place. It couldn’t be a coincidence; that the moment a man showed up, saying he could save them all from the chains that they had all but been placed in by the Statute, that attacks on the very people who “chained” them occurred.

But he had no proof. He could hardly go to the Minister and let him know what he did. Not when all he had was mere speculation, even if he knew it to be true.

And the Aurors were trying, they really were. But they never knew when the attacks would occur until it was too late. They never knew what would happen until it already did. And by then it was far too late to do anything. It was too late for them to be able to stop the chaos that had already occurred.

It wasn’t enough. Not when there were those in the Ministry who would be happy to follow this Voldemort into battle, regardless of the consequences of such actions. Not when there were those who knew exactly what would happen and did it anyways.

It would be up to him to bring down this Voldemort, just as it had been up to him to bring down Gellert.

But he wasn’t as young as he once was. He knew he still was perhaps the most powerful wizard in the world. But he needed spies to pass him information. He needed more ears that could hear what was happening, and more people with control in the Wizengamot. He needed more wands to fight by his side in order for them to succeed.

He needed something Light to counteract the Darkness. A Light Order that would bring down the darkness once and for all.

Chapter Text

It was nearing the end of the summer of 1975 when their Hogwarts letters came, containing the news that would forever change the way the Marauders reacted to one another. Or at least that was what James and Sirius claimed.

Summers were always harder than the rest of the year for Hermione, as it was two whole months of killing time waiting for the next school year to come around. And as they had collected most of the Horcruxes that they knew had existed at that time and had been hidden, it was hardly as if they could go out of their way to go get more. Not when Voldemort hadn’t placed any of them with the people who were meant to protect them yet.

She had been spending some of her time working on how to destroy the Horcruxes, which was hard given the fact that the only method they had at their disposal was Fiendfyre, which was hardly something she could practise to learn how to control in her free time. Despite not being able to use magic outside of school, she knew that the trace would not pick her up if she were to use it in her family home because her parents were also magical users. But if she were to start setting fire to random things, she was sure the Ministry would figure it out.

And while Basilisk venom was still an option, other than going into the Chamber of Secrets and re-defeating the snake, she hardly had some at her disposal. Plus even if she went down there, she didn’t have the Sword of Godric Gryffindor that she could use to help her by becoming imbued with venom as it had the past time. And Basilisk venom was too dangerous to just carry around in its raw form, sure to be of danger to someone if not all of them. She knew she still had time; she still had to collect the locket, the cup, and the diary. And until she could get all of them together, she couldn’t even begin to start destroying them.

So while her brother and his friends ran amok in her family home, she and Draco sat for hours, looking into different possibilities with books he had brought from the Black family library, spelled to look like any other sort of book. Lily was off with her family on a vacation, while Severus insisted on spending some time with his mother, whom she knew he was worried about. And Regulus happily ran off with his older brother on whatever new thing the boys were up to that day.

Meaning no one even blinked an eye when she told them she would be off in the library. The only thing that raised some questions was Draco spending so much time with her, which James simply raised a brow at. She had rolled her eyes at him, time and time again, because what was there really to say? Draco was her friend, and nothing more. Even if puberty was starting to hit him once more, and she could see him slowly growing up in front of her eyes. Even if her breath sometimes caught in her throat when she would see him take off his shirt when he and the boys played Quidditch. Not that she would ever even admit that to anyone. How could she? Besides, there were more important things for her to be focusing on.

Such as the fact that their Hogwarts letters happened to come today.

“What do you mean you’ve been made a prefect?” Sirius demanded, as Remus’ badge lay in front of all of them at the table that day for breakfast.

“How could you have let this happen?” James asked, looking visibly upset, “We’re supposed to break the rules! Not abide by them!”

“James!” her mother admonished, “Do not speak that way to your friend! You should be proud of him, for accomplishing such an amazing thing. Merlin knows I never expected you to gain that badge, so I’m just glad one of my children got it.”

Remus turned bright red at the idea that her mother thought of him as a second son, and she grinned at Remus.

“I think it’s absolutely brilliant,” she beamed at Remus, “You deserve it! Congratulations Remus.”

“Of course you think it’s amazing,” James muttered, “Some days I’m uncertain if you are his sister or mine.”

She stuck her tongue out at him and James glowered at her.

“How are we supposed to plan pranks if you’re going to take points off of us now?” Sirius bemoaned.

“I don’t think anything, or anyone would ever be able to stop you from doing so,” Remus said dryly, “Though I do suppose that might have been one of the reasons that I was given this badge.”

“That, and the fact that you deserve it,” Draco told him truthfully. “You’ll be a great prefect.”

“Betrayed by my own cousin,” Sirius gasped, looking at him.

“I think it’s rather amazing too,” Peter pipped up. “Imagine, he doesn’t have to rat us out! We have an in with someone who can look the other way and give us points. Five points to Gryffindor because James Potter is absolutely amazing.”

James and Sirius exchanged a look at that, “You know, Peter, I think you might just have a point there.”

“Yes, perhaps this could be the most amazing thing to happen to us since we started school,” Sirius said with a nod.

“I’m not giving you both points for existing,” Remus rolled his eyes.

Her brother almost pouted at that, and Hermione found herself wanting to smack her brother.

“I suppose it is rather brilliant,” James said, begrudgingly. “I’m proud of you Remus.”

“So am I,” Sirius said, seriously. “If anyone deserved it, it’s you.”

“Thanks,” Remus said with a grin at his friends. “Who do you suppose the other prefect is?”

“Lily,” Hermione said instantly. She had already known from the past timeline, but it certainly helped that her friend had written to her that morning, mentioning Severus and she had both been made prefects.

James perked up at that, “Of course she made it,” he said, an almost dreamy expression on his face. “She’s brilliant like that.”

“Oi!” Remus said indignantly, as he smacked his friend, “You were not that proud of me.”

James simply rolled his eyes, “You’re not the love of my life, Remus.”

“I thought I held that title?” Sirius said, mock gasping.

“You’re all ridiculous,” she told them with a shake of her head. “Absolutely bloody ridiculous.”

They all grinned at her, and she couldn’t help but smile back at them.

Fleamont sat in his study as he waited for his brother-in-law to join him for their meeting before the next Wizengamot session so they would be able to strategize a bit before going in. While he knew some ridiculous bill or the other would be attempted to be brought up for discussion, he knew the real problem would be the fact that almost all of their meetings now circulated around this Voldemort and how much of a threat or a saviour he was to them all. And both the light and the dark factions seemed to have very different stances on what they thought of the man in question.

It wouldn’t be long before both sides were too far polarized that they couldn’t reach a consensus or a majority vote in how to act. How could they when more and more families were being recruited by either Dumbledore or by Abraxas on behalf of Voldemort. How could they when he could see the votes swaying more each day, even from those in the grey factions. Especially those who had never stood firmly one way or another in the past were all of a sudden almost always voting in a singular direction.

It didn’t help that the attacks weren’t stopping; hell, if anything they were almost always getting worse.

“Fleamont,” Arcturus said as he entered the room and greeted the man. “How are you doing?”

“Good, Arcturus, and you?”

“I am well,” Arcturus said, hesitating slightly, “And my grandson? How is he doing?”

“Which one?” Fleamont raised a brow, despite having a good feeling about which of the two he was referring to.

“Sirius,” Arcturus sighed, “He and his mother have had a bit of a tense relationship lately, even more so over the past few months as this Voldemort has been gaining more and more power. It seems my family stands divided on the issue. It is only a matter of time before I am sure she will snap and try to expel him from the family.”

“She doesn’t have that authority,” Fleamont said, offering the man a seat and a drink.

“She most certainly does not,” Arcturus said, looking tense. “I will not have my son and his wife try and act as if they have the power of the Head of the House. I do not care what the rumours are in the dark circles. I have no intention to kick my grandson out of the family, regardless of what they want. He is my heir and he will be the head of the house after me.”

“Good to hear,” Fleamont said, having been tense until those words left Arcturus’ mouth. “My wife and I consider Sirius to be like a son to us. He’ll always have a place here with us.”

“I am glad,” Arcturus nodded, “I fear such a day may come where he no longer feels safe in his own house.”

“I pray for his sake it does not,” Fleamont said, frowning. “But to get on to the matter as to why both of us are here today. “To discuss this Voldemort and all we know about him.”

“He appears to have come out of nowhere,” Arcturus muttered, “I cannot find a single record of him before he showed up in Britain. No other families have claimed the Slytherin title since the Gaunts, and Salazar knows their family tree died out years ago.”

“Is it possible that they are related?” Fleamont asked, “They had a daughter, did they not?”

“They did,” Arcturus said, “A squib I believe. But no one seems to know what happened to her. I’ll have to ask around.”

“My bigger question is whether he is who he says he is,” Fleamont mentioned, “He claims to be a descendant of Slytherin, the heir itself. And yet he remains Lord Voldemort and not Lord Slytherin. Why has he not claimed his lordship if he is who he says he is. Merlin knows the title has remained unclaimed for years. It certainly raises questions as to whether he is in fact an actual heir of one of the founders, or it is a title he flaunts around without any actual claim to the family or their legacy.”

“It is a valid point,” Arcturus mentioned, “One I believe should be brought up in Wizengamot the next session. It would certainly help us gain some numbers if we can plant some seeds of doubt in their heads.”

“I agree,” Fleamont nodded, “I will mention it in the morning. So many are quick to jump to either side without much proof of substance on either Dumbledore or Voldemort’s sides. We need to bring them to a more middle ground, to prevent the polarization of any time of magic. We need to ensure that the balance is once again regained between the light and the dark.”

“And yet that proves to be far harder than either of us ever could have intended,” Arcturus sighed. “We need actual proof that he is who he says he is, or that he isn’t. And even if we get that, it might not be enough to sway their opinions. My own grandniece is so taken with him that I don’t think that even proof of his lies would be enough to sway her from his side.”

“It is problematic indeed,” Fleamont frowned. “I’ll have to ask my connections in the other families if they know anything that we could use to help our cause. But for now, I’ll raise the speculation.”

And it was because he did in Wizengamot the next morning that there was an attack the day after.

She was in Diagon Alley when the attack happened, strolling through Flourish and Blotts, trying to pick up some light causal reading as well as all the books she would require for her actual schooling year. She also wanted some more advanced books so she could increase the knowledge of spells she knew, and where better to buy books on the matter than in her favourite bookstore.

Draco had been a few feet away from her, browsing some titles of his own, as well as helping her pick up some books for her lazy brother and his friends, who insisted that they needed to spend more of their time at the Quidditch store, looking over brooms that they didn’t even need. However she knew that despite her dismay, she’d have to go there after with Draco so he could join his cousins and the boys in ogling brooms.

They all already had perfectly good ones, so it just didn’t make any sense to her as to why they would need even more brooms when theirs were perfectly functional.

“It’s not about functionality, Hermione,” James had rolled his eyes. “It’s about the beauty of a newer model. The same reason you insist on buying every edition of Hogwarts: A History, even though there have been very few changes in recent years.”

“That’s different!” She had said indignantly. “How could you even compare the two?”

“Quite easily, you’ll find,” James sighed. “I love you, Hermione, but just as you don’t understand my love of the sport, I don’t understand your love of books. But if they make you happy I’ll gladly buy you entire stores worth of books.”

“I suppose you can go stare at the brooms,” she said, smiling lightly at her brother, knowing Harry would have loved to have a father who would do the same ridiculous thing that he did. She remembered how when the Firebolt had come out that he had considered emptying his entire vaults for it. And if the way James spoiled her was any indication, then she knew Harry would never grow up wanting for anything, as his father would make sure his child was happy by any means. And if he didn’t buy it for Harry, she knew already that she would be more than tempted to do so. Even for something as ridiculous as Quidditch.

The explosion had come suddenly, breaking her entirely out of her reverie, as she saw the glass panes of the windows shatter around them.

“Protego,” Hermione yelled without even a second thought, as a shield rose up to protect the occupants of the store. She could feel her heart racing, as she looked at Draco, knowing instantly what was happening.

“Hermione!” Fleamont said with a panic in his voice as he tried to make his way through the store to see where she was. He had been off, picking up some things for her mother, and she knew the explosion had startled him.

“I’m okay,” she told her father, as the occupants around them tried to shake off the shock they were feeling.

“She’s more than okay,” the shopkeeper said, looking at her full of surprise, “Her quick thinking protected us from being more injured.”

There was another loud sound of an explosion from a nearby shop, and she knew it wasn’t a one-off thing. There was a full blown attack on Diagon Alley.

“I need you to hide somewhere safe,” her father told her firmly, “I’ll go check on it, find your mother and brother, as well as the other boys. But I need you to be safe, Hermione.”

“I can help!” she insisted, as Draco held his wand tightly in his hand. “I can help you fight. Dad. Let me make sure no one else is hurt.”

He cupped her face, “I know you are more than capable, Darling. If anyone was capable of bringing them all to their feet, it would be you. But I need to know you are safe, Hermione. I need to keep my family safe. I will not let them get hurt because of a senseless attack on our streets. Please, Hermione. Just stay hidden.”

“I’ll keep her safe,” Draco assured her father, as he pulled her closer. “I won’t let her get hurt.”

Her father gave him a grateful look and as soon as he ran off into the streets, she turned to glare at him, “How could you promise such a thing?” she asked angrily. “My family is out there, just as yours are. How can we stand back and let them fight and hope no one is hurt?”

“Your father never would have agreed to let you fight,” he said gently, “We know the Death Eaters better than anyone else here. We can fight alongside your father, but he doesn’t need to know we’re helping from the shadows. We’re still only in fourth year, Hermione, and our mission is nowhere near complete. We will not lose this battle, but we cannot afford to be reckless either and lose the entire war by dying today. We need to fight smartly, from the shadows.”

“Okay,” she murmured, as she heard screams from outside. She ducked behind the broken window and cast a stunning spell at one of the Death Eaters, wearing their silver skull masks, and saw them collapse in front of her.

She could hear more screams of horror break out as she watched several witches and wizards fall down, dead, as she felt a cold sensation brush over her. Not the same way a Dementor made her feel cold, but the cold realization of who it was that was casting down witch and wizard in their path.

She wasn’t a fool, she knew her father had been actively raising suspicion in the Wizengamot meetings. She read the papers, even if her father hated talking about politics at home. He was asking the same questions she was: who was this Lord Voldemort, and why was he not Lord Slytherin. And she knew he had come to cause panic and fear. Enough so that the questions stopped speculating and the fear reigned instead. She knew it was him before she even saw him from the first time.

She knew he had come, and if her father crossed paths with him, then he would be in danger.

“No,” Draco said softly, as he pulled her back down, casting a disillusion charm on them both. “You cannot be seen Hermione. Your father isn’t in danger yet. He’s not on the streets anymore. But if you run out there and try and protect him, you will be putting him in danger.”

She could see the figure of Voldemort move closer, but what struck her the most was the human face he had. He was younger than when she faced him, but he looked more like a man and less like a beast. He looked refined, and she could see why the girls had all swooned for him in school. She could see why Draco’s sister was so taken with him. But it didn’t change the fact that he was still a monster.

He walked past them, and she had to hold herself back from hexing him right there and then. They weren’t ready to bring him down, not yet. And it wouldn’t do any good to see a fourth-year student try and fight him. Draco was right, it wouldn’t do her any good dying now.

But it didn’t change the fact that because she wasn’t ready in this moment, that so many more would continue to die. To be hurt. Families would continue to be torn apart, because they only had two out of the five horcruxes that existed in that moment.

He was metres away from her, and she felt her heart race. She could see the fear on the shopkeeper’s face as he tried to run from where he was hiding, and she watched in horror as Voldemort raised his wand and struck him down without even a word.

“Do you fear me yet?” she heard his voice carry out. “Do you not see that I can make your lives better? To rid you of the weak, of the unworthy. Of those who are less than pure. Why do you continue to oppose me when I could be your saviour?”

“My Lord,” a female voice called out, and she saw Draco tense as he recognized his older sister. “The Aurors have come. They are starting to try and round us up.”

“Kill them all,” Voldemort said coldly. “I have other matters to attend to.”

“Of course,” she said, a vicious glee in her voice.”

She saw Voldemort apparate away as the remaining Death Eaters engaged in a battle with the Aurors who had shown up. More and more Death Eaters continued to flee, as the Aurors advanced on them.

“Hermione,” Draco said softly, still leaning close to her, under the window pane. She shot down as many Death Eaters as she could, but she knew it wouldn’t make a difference. For most of them had already fled. “Are you okay?”

She looked down, and saw that she was shaking, so much so that Draco pulled her into a hug. She leaned into him, trying to ground herself, to calm herself down. She held onto him tightly as he rubbed her back.

“He didn’t know who we were this time around,” she murmured softly. “He didn’t see us, and he had no idea of what we are trying to do. Next time we might not be so lucky. If he ever finds out the truth, then we’re all as good as dead.”

“I won’t let that happen,” he promised her and she held him closely. “We’re the only two who know the truth. And I have no intention of letting anyone else find out about us.”

“Neither do I,” she said softly. “But what if he finds out anyways. What if whatever we do is not good enough? What if he finds out anyways?”

“He won’t,” he said firmly. “We’ve already lost too much to fail now. We will win this war, Hermione. We’ll change all of their minds on blood purity, we’ll convince them that they’re wrong. We won’t let Voldemort gain as much support as he did before. We will win this, and we’ll keep everyone we love safe.”

She nodded slightly.

“HERMIONE!” she heard her brother yell as he barrelled into the store. He saw her in Draco’s arms, and she immediately pulled away, before her brother could pull her in tightly for a hug. “Thank Merlin you and Draco are okay. I was so worried when I heard the explosion.”

She saw her friends and her father pile into the store, checking on the both of them. Her father had a cut on his forehead. Fleamont Potter pulled them both into a tight hug. “We’re all okay. We made it. None of us were hurt too badly, nothing your mother won’t be able to patch up in no time. We’re okay. All of us are okay”

Sirius gave Draco a once over, and she almost missed it as he gave him a sly look then looked over at her. But instead of saying anything, she simply rolled her eyes at her friend, before her father made sure to gather all of their belongings.

“I think we’ve had more than enough of an adventure for one day, don’t you?” Her father said, in a worn voice. “It’s time for us to go home.”

Remus’ robes were torn, Peter’s hair looked like it had been slightly burnt, James’ hand had been injured, Sirius had a nick on his chin and Draco had a small cut on his leg. She looked down to appraise her own injures and saw that other than some shards of glass that had cut her robes, she was relatively without any major injures.

“Let’s go home,” she said in agreement.

Chapter Text

To say Hogwarts was buzzing about the attack on Diagon Alley was an understatement. As it had occurred a few days before the first day of school, a large amount of the student body had been present, buying their own school supplies just as he had been. It was the first time any of them had seen one of these attacks happen first hand. And for their generation, stories of the last set of horrors in that of Grindelwald were just that; stories. They had never experienced such horrors first hand, and so many of them were terrified. It was one thing to read about the attacks in the Daily Prophet. It was an entirely other matter to be left hiding in the stores as people are attacked in the streets and explosions occur in the streets.

He could hear people talking the entire train ride, of where they had been when it happened, how they felt, what was going through their heads. There were those who were crying over the events, as they had witnessed things no one should ever have to see. And while he had been far too accustomed to war and fighting, it didn’t mean that it should become the normal.

Even as he sat at the Slytherin table, he could hear those buzzing around him, talking about it, either in support, or in vast opposition of it. And while he knew all too well that not every Slytherin supported Voldemort, it was nice to see far more people than he thought be against him.

He supposed as time went on, and the sides were polarized more, there would be more support for him. After all, it was the light’s insistence that “there's not a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin”. It became synonymous for their house to be Death Eaters.

He sighed to himself as he tuned back into the sorting.

“Knight, Florence,” Professor McGonagall called out. He didn’t think too much of it when the shy looking brunette was sorted into Hufflepuff.

“Lockhart, Gilderoy,” the Deputy Headmistress read off her list next.

He wanted to laugh out loud as he saw the boy dazzle the Great Hall a smile as he walked up to the stool and sat brightly. The hat seemed to be having a conflict with the boy, but he could almost see the hat sigh as it sorted the boy.

“Ravenclaw.”

He nearly choked as he looked over at Hermione and saw her hiding her own laughter. How could he explain why he was laughing at a boy being sorted when he could explain how much of an incompetent idiot the boy would grow up to be, and the things he would do. How he believed that how many times he won an award for smiling was more important than actual Defense Against The Dark Arts questions.

Instead, he held his breath, unable to say anything without drawing unnecessary attention to themselves.

Dumbledore took the stand shortly after, as the last of the new students were sorted into their houses, and he looked up at the entire student body as his crescent shaped glasses rested on the bridge of his nose.

“First and foremost, I wish to welcome all of the new students to our school. And I also wish to welcome all of our returning students back. I hope you all had lovely summers and are ready to get back into another year of learning, of making friendships, and exploring new things. It is no secret that outside our walls there is a darkness. There is a threat to our very lifestyle and the way our world seeks to function. We must not let ourselves be divided by labels and by classifications. We must show we can rise above it. You are the youngest and brightest minds of the next generation. You are the ones who will take charge of the world in few years. We must show that we can be better than out old ways. We must show that we can come together in the face of adversity and that we will not be divided by matters out of our control. Do not allow yourself to get caught up in matters that do not make a difference. Do not get caught up in a narrow frame of mind and allow yourselves to truly explore what it is that makes us unique as witches and wizards, as humans. And then you will truly be able to grow,” Dumbledore said, as his eyes lingered on the Slytherin table for a moment too long.

He heard the third year beside him scoff, “Please, we all know he’s telling us not to go join that madman and think for ourselves. Because if anyone is the threat to house unity, it’s us, and not the man who insists on pointing out how evil our house is at every twist and turn. Why am I evil if I care about success, and yet he, a Gryffindor, is known as the most powerful wizard alive? How is any of that fair.”

“I agree,” Draco said softly, “We should not be divided by the traits that sorted us into our houses. Ambition is not an evil trait.”

“But of course, we are the true villains,” the student, Wilkes, said in a bitter voice. “It’s not fair, but it’s how it goes. We are always the first to be suspected. The first to be punished. The first to be admonished. And yet, we’re expected to sit back and take it every time, and not get upset. Because when we do, we’ve proven their point that we’re indeed, all evil.”

“It’s unfair,” Draco said, “But not all of those believe that we are evil. There are those who do not blame us for the actions of others. Those who do not think we are evil and are ready to suspect us. We just need to rise above it and show we are better than what they think of us.”

Wilkes didn’t look convinced, but he dropped the matter, and Draco didn’t try pushing any harder.

James Potter was nervous. He was incredibly nervous. And that had to do completely with the fact that he, Sirius, and Peter had been trying to become animagi for the better part of their early years at Hogwarts. And now that they had actually succeeded, all that was left was to tell Remus and have him say that he would let them keep him company each full moon. And that he wouldn’t have to spend them alone any longer.

Easier said than done.

The boys had all been exchanging silent looks when Remus entered the room. And he immediately gave them all worried looks, knowing fully well that the only reason they wouldn’t have been saying something aloud is because they were up to something. And to be fair, they were.

“What did you do?” Remus asked, crossing his arms. “Please don’t make me break my duties as a prefect already. It’s only the first day of school. How am I supposed to last another three years as a prefect if you’re already breaking the rules?”

“We didn’t do anything,” Sirius defended. “At least not now anyways.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Remus’ eyes shot to his brows, as he lingered on Sirius for a moment extra. “Whatever it is that you’ve done, just spit it out. I’m too exhausted to deal with all this suspense.”

The boys looked at each other, and all agreed at the same time. There was no easy way to say what they had done. Not without explaining it to Remus. Not yet anyways. It was far easier just to show him what had happened.

So at the same time, all the boys shifted. At that moment, James stood as a stag, while Sirius as a dog, and Peter as a rat in their Hogwarts dorm. And upon looking at Remus’ dumbfounded look, they quickly shifted.

“You became animagi?” Remus managed out, “When? How? Why didn’t you tell me?”

There was a hurt tone in his voice, and James didn’t blame him. They had kept it a secret for the better part of the last four years, without Remus even knowing. They had gone behind his back to do so, not wanting him to know about it until they had already succeeded.

“Because we wanted to surprise you,” Peter squealed, not sensing the hurt in Remus’ voice.

“We did it for you,” Sirius added quickly, as he sat beside Remus on his bed. “We did it for you, Remus.”

“How can you say you did it for me, when you didn’t even tell me. Did you think I wouldn’t want to know? Why wouldn’t you want me to know? Why wouldn’t you want me to be a part of this?” Remus questioned, as his voice shook.

“Because we did it so you wouldn’t be alone,” James intervened, not wanting his friend to get the wrong idea.

“I don’t understand,” Remus said, sounding pained.

“I know you try to hide it, Remus, but we all know each full moon transformation is painful for you. We’ve seen the scars. Seen what it does to your mentality each month. It hurts you to be alone, physically and mentally,” Sirius said gently.

“We don’t want you to be alone,” James said, “We wanted you to know that you have people around you who love you, and never want you to suffer alone.”

“How does you becoming animagi without me help me in any way?” Remus questioned them, sounding confused more than anything.

“We can’t be with you as humans,” Peter pointed out.

“Werewolves are deathly to humans,” Sirius added in.

“But as animagi, we can be with you each full moon. We can run around with you and make sure that you are not hurt. That you never have to face this alone,” James finished.

“You became animagi so you can run around with me each full moon?” Remus’ eyebrows shot up, “Do you have any idea how absolutely idiotic that is? How stupid and reckless that is? Did you think I would magically agree once you became animagi? That it would be too late for me to say absolutely bloody not? Because there is no bloody way I am even about to consider letting you come out with me once a month. I turn into a monster. I’m not about to put anyone in harm’s way. And I’m sure as hell not going to put you lot in harms’ way. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you.”

“Nothing would happen to us,” James said, earnestly. “We’ve done research. Werewolves are not a danger to animals.”

“Animals maybe, but animagi are different. There’s nothing to show that I wouldn’t still hurt you. Nothing to prove that I wouldn’t be able to tell as a werewolf that you are not regular animals, and harm you. And I refuse to find out.”

He stood up at that, and angrily stormed out of the room. Sirius wanted to say something, but James shook his head, knowing his friend needed some time to process what was happening and the offer that James had made to his friend.

“What do we do now?” Peter breathed.

“Nothing,” James said simply.

“So you mean that all of this was a waste?” Peter said, gesturing to them all. “You mean to tell me that it was all for nothing? All of our hard work and effort? Because at the end of the day it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t want us to run around with him. What can we do about that?”

“I never said we don’t do anything,” James said. “We give him space to think about things. And that first full moon, we will be there with him. We will make sure he’s not alone. And he can be angry all he wants, but he can’t do anything about it until the next morning. And the month after we do the same, until he accepts that we really do want what’s best for him.”

Sirius nodded at that, and while Peter looked sceptical, he didn’t argue.

“I don’t think this is going to work,” Peter admitted to the boys as they snuck out of the Gryffindor tower and towards the main grounds of Hogwarts under the invisibility cloak. “Even if we successfully get to the Whomping Willow, how do we even get in without it killing us? And then how do we even know if this Animagus theory will even work? How do we know that we’re not just going to die trying? What if tomorrow morning we wake up and it turns out that we are all werewolves?”

“Merlin, Peter,” James muttered under his breath as they made they existed the school, “You sure are unoptimistic today.”

“I can’t help it,” Peter whined, “We’re doing something absolutely terrifying and it seems as if you guys don’t even seem to care at all.”

“Of course we care!” Sirius said, annoyed. “How can we not know the exact consequences if things go wrong. Do you think that Remus will ever forgive himself if things go wrong tonight? Everything needs to be perfect, or he’ll only hate himself even more and then our entire mission would have failed. We have to be careful, or we’re all in trouble.”

They walked across the grounds, carefully, and stashed the cloak in a bag they had brought with them as they got closer to the tree. It wouldn’t do any good to lose the cloak now, but it didn’t mean they could keep it with them through the night.

“From what I’ve read about the trees, there should be a knot near the base of the tree,” James muttered, and both boys looked at him in shock. “What?” he defended. “I am capable of reading from time to time, you know!”

“I wasn’t all that convinced that you even knew how,” Sirius smirked at him, “I thought Hermione had taken all of the abilities to be able to do so for your family.”

He shook his head at his friend, not even bothering to justify it with a response, “Peter, if you turn into a rat, you’ll have the easiest time getting to the tree and immobilizing it.”

“Me?” he squealed, “You want me to go near that thing? You remember what it did to Davey Gudgeon when he tried to get close to it right?”

“You’re the smallest,” Sirius justified, “James is too large to even bother trying; it’d be easier for him as a human. And I’m not anywhere near small enough. It has to be you Pete.”

The boy muttered something under his breath, but James watched as he turned into the rat, smoother than he had the first time, and ran across the lawn. He watched as Peter dodged every branch that swung his way, smoothly, and ran towards the base of the tree.

It was a long couple of moments, waiting in anticipation to see what would happen but the tree slowed down it’s movement, before stopping moving all together.

“He did it,” Sirius breathed in relief.

“He did,” James said proudly, as the two boys moved towards the base, and slid down in an opening. 

They walked down what seemed to be a passage for a little bit, before emerging in a room.

They heard a howl above them, and the boys looked at each other. Fear filled them, as well as anticipation, excitement, worry, and adrenaline.

“We need to turn now,” James instructed, “Remus has already turned and it’s too dangerous for us to stay like this. We need to be in our Animagus forms so we’re not at risk of being bitten.”

The howl grew closer and the boys looked at each other, before quickly turning into their forms.

It was still a strange feeling for him to be in the form of a stag. The first couple of times he had tried to move after transforming, he had thought too much about it, and had fallen down far too many times to count. It was only after he had stopped thinking about it so much that he had found himself able to stand on his four legs and moved properly.

He looked up to see Remus staring back at him. Except it wasn’t Remus. It was a werewolf, large, and hungry looking at the three of them.

For a moment, he felt his heart racing, as fear filled him once more, letting the other emotions leave his body. If this was how he died, his mother would kill him. Hermione would kill him. Hell, it probably was one of the stupidest ways he could die.

Remus, the wolf, sniffed him, sniffed all of them, before seemingly growing bored. The boys looked at each other, almost all sighing as best as they could in relief.

Sirius was the first to move forward, going up to Remus and nudging him with his nose. The wolf looked confused at first, and tried to swat Sirius away, but instead James moved forward as well and licked Remus.

Peter was next, more hesitant than he or Sirius had been, but he moved forward, crawling up Remus’ wolf leg and nestling himself against their friend.

They could see the conflict and confusion on the wolf, but he did nothing to stop them. Instead, they stayed like that all night long, just staying close to Remus to make sure he knew he wasn’t alone. There would be plenty of time for adventures in the future, but for now their friend needed to know he wasn’t alone any longer. That he had people around him who loved him and cared about him.

Instead, they stayed like that, all night long, as the boys in their animal forms, held onto their friend tightly to let him know everything they wished he would believe. That he was loved and cared for. That they would do anything for him. That they never wanted him to be alone ever again. That they loved him.

And the wolf looked content through it all.

Hermione sat in the window of the Astronomy tower that full moon, watching as she saw three very distinct figures sneak out of the school. Anyone else might not have been as quick to realize just who they were, but it didn’t take a genius for her to figure out that it was indeed her brother who had been sneaking out of the school that day.

“They’ve done it,” she murmured to Draco as she saw Peter transform and run towards the tree. “They’ve turned into animagi.”

“We knew they would accomplish it this year,” Draco reminded her. “It was in the notes we had.”

She looked down at her own newly brewing potion in frustration. It had taken her so long to get to this stage, and it still seemed as if she wouldn’t be successful. They once again had messed up the potion, as it turned the wrong colour, and it didn’t take much for her to figure out that their dew drops must have been tainted.

It was absolutely frustrating, to not be able to accomplish something, regardless of the fact that she was well aware that they were trying to do something extremely difficult.

“Why are we even trying?” she sighed, “They don’t need us to run around with them. They managed to accomplish it on their own. Do they even need our help?”

“Is there any harm in Remus knowing how cared for he is every month?” Draco raised a brow at her, “Besides, we decided it also was a useful skill for us to have. Is that no longer the case? Do you no longer want to be there for your friend? Our friend? Because tell me right now. I want to go through with this, but I also wouldn’t mind getting a night of proper sleep.”

“You’re right,” she sighed, “Of course you’re right.”

The weight of her exhaustion began to hit her all at once, as she tried to push it to the side.

She felt her eyes begin to droop, as she tried to keep them open. It was exhausting having to stay awake for so many hours in the day to try and do all the required incantations, but also manage to keep up with her schoolwork, take on extra research, try and plot out Voldemort’s current moves so they could predict what would happen, and keep the secrets of the future intact.

“Go to sleep for a bit,” Draco murmured to her, as she yawned again, “I’ll wake you up when it’s time.”

She nodded at that, as she leaned on Draco slightly, and he wrapped an arm around her. She closed her eyes slowly, and before she knew it, she had drifted off to sleep, feeling safer and more at peace than she had in a long while.

Remus woke up in the early hours of the morning, as a human, lying on the floor of what was now known as the Shrieking Shack because of his cried screams every full moon.

Usually he felt emotionally drained after each moon, spending each time scratching himself as a way to distract from his urges. He may not have much control over his transformations or his actions, but he knew the wolf hated itself just as much as he did.

But something was different this time around. He felt full of love and energy. He felt better than he ever had after any moon. He felt as if he was ready to take on the day once more and not have a single care in the world.

He sat up startled at that, unsure of why it had been different this time around. Of what was so specifically different this time around. Why didn’t he feel as much pain and sadness as he usually did?

He looked around the room and saw the answer lying there beside him. James, Sirius, and Peter were lying around him, each of the boys holding onto him tightly.

“You’re awake,” James said, stirring slightly. “How do you feel?”

“How do I feel?” Remus said in a tight voice. “Do you want to explain why the three of you are here? I thought I made it plenty clear that I do not want you here for this.”

“Did it help?” Sirius asked eagerly, ignoring the boy. “Did last night go better than it usually goes?”

“That’s beside the point!” Remus all but yelled, “What if something had happened to you? What if you had gotten hurt? What if I scratched you? Then you all would be werewolves too! I could never live with myself if anything had happened to you. If you had gotten hurt because of me!”

“We didn’t,” James said calmly, “We checked after you fell asleep. None of us have any sort of injury to our body, Remus. Not even a bruise. You didn’t do anything last night, all you did was let us hold onto you tightly and comfort you. Admit it, we helped you last night. It was one of the smoothest transformations you’ve ever felt.”

“What if you got hurt?” Remus pressed.

“We didn’t,” Sirius pointed out, “And as we knew, animagi are not in danger around werewolves in their animal forms. You didn’t want anything to do with us. And when we comforted you, you let us. We were never in any danger.”

“You cannot do this again,” Remus said, trying to ignore their logic. “Merlin do you know how much trouble we could all get in?”

“No one will find out,” James insisted, “We came under the cloak. And we’ll leave before Madam Pomfrey gets here to take you back to the hospital wing. And if Dumbledore says anything, we’ll insist that you had no idea. That we came after you turned and wouldn’t leave. And if you don’t give us permission to join you, we’ll just keep sneaking out each full moon to be with you.”

He sighed loudly at that, a thousand and one reasons running through his mind of why they were all crazy, why he should tell them no, and why it was very much a bad idea.

But they were right in saying that it had helped.

And so for that, he found himself agreeing to let them accompany him.

Chapter Text

James Potter was many things, but subtle was not one of them. Hermione supposed it most certainly did help, the fact that she knew about what was going on well before James and his friends had even managed to succeed. But she wondered how it was difficult to figure out that her brother and his friends were running around with a werewolf when they mentioned having top secret plans on the full moon and would try and sneak around after curfew.

It also didn’t help that every time she approached them, they stopped talking almost immediately, and pretended to have other things to be talking about.

“I say for this moon we go out into the forest-” James started, before stopping immediately after seeing Hermione approach them in the common room, “I don’t know how the Tornados will do this season, especially with the way they’ve been playing. It’s a miracle they haven’t been disqualified already, really.”

“Give it up, James,” she rolled her eyes as she sat down beside them, “I already know.”

“Know that the Tornados stand no chance?” Sirius asked her, confused. “I thought you hated Quidditch.”

“I do,” she said simply, “I was referring to your extracurricular activities concerning running around each full moon with Remus.”

“How could you possibly know that?” Peter squealed.

“You just confirmed it,” she smirked, and the boys glared at Peter. “Also it’s hard not to notice the mandrake leaf that had been stuck to your mouth for the better part of several of the last months. That and I conveniently spotted the three of you last month sneaking out on the full moon and looking absolutely exhausted the next morning.”

“We were pulling off a prank,” Sirius stated, staring at her fully, without even blinking.

“Sure you were,” she said in a tone that made it clear that she didn’t believe them in the slightest.

James sighed, “Are you mad?” he asked, defeated.

“No, and I won’t tell Mum or Dad either,” she said, reassuring the boys.

“Why not?” Peter’s eyes narrowed.

“Because I think what you’re doing for Remus is noble,” she said simply.

“You don’t think it’s absolutely reckless?” Sirius asked in disbelief.

“Oh it is,” she reassured him, “But I know you boys are doing it because you love him. And you would be careful about it. You boys care for each other, and that’s all that matters. Of course I’m not going to be mad about that.”

James gave her a tender look, as Remus, who hadn’t sad a single word through the entire conversation simply smiled at her.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

“I mean it, Remus,” she told him carefully, “You deserve to have people around you who love you unconditionally. And we do. I would never fault you for wanting to know you are loved.”

“Which means if Hermione is here, Draco probably knows too, right?” Sirius asked, groaning slightly.

She laughed at that, “Well we did spot you boys together.”

“Why were you with him that late at night?” James eyes narrowed.

“We were studying, Jamie,” she said with a sigh. “Nothing more.”

He didn’t look reassured at that, but thankfully he didn’t argue with her about it.

“This means we can get both of their help,” Sirius said with a grin, “For our problem.”

“What kind of help?” Hermione asked curiously, wanting to know what she would be getting herself into well before she agreed to do anything to help them, especially if it was most certainly reckless

“Nothing bad,” James said quickly. “We need a sort of way of telling where people are when we want to sneak out. Especially Filtch and Mrs Norris. It’s a bloody hassle avoiding them each time. I swear it’s as if they just wait for us in particular and try and target us each time. It’s a bloody nuisance.”

“I’m sure it is,” she said dryly, though she recalled all too well the number of nights she, Harry, and Ron had spent trying to avoid the particular duo. Especially during Umbridge’s tyranny in her fifth year.

“We need a map,” Sirius said, “That shows the entire school and everyone and their movements through the school. Something we can use to sneak out easily, whenever we need to. And we need you and Draco to help us do so. Merlin knows that you two are brilliant.”

Her eyes widened at that, knowing exactly what the boys were talking about. They were referring to the Marauder’s Map, their Hogwarts legacy, one that the Weasley Twins had taken over, and one that had eventually been passed down to Harry. They wanted to create the very parchment that had amazed her with its intricacy for days. They wanted to make the very parchment which she and Harry had used countless times during the war to spot the position of their enemies and to see what was happening despite not even being there in person. And most importantly, they wanted her to help them create such a map. She would help make the map that would aid them for decades to come.

“Gladly,” she grinned at her friends as she pulled out a parchment to begin making notes of all the features that the map in question would need to have. Hell, maybe she would even be able to add a few new features of her own to it.

“You’re not opposing it?” James asked, a little shocked, “You’re not going to tell us that by doing so, we’d be breaking a hundred and one different school rules, then lecture us about how many points we’d be losing.”

“There’s nothing in the rulebook about creating a map that shows you the entire school,” she pointed out, “I’m sure it could be used in conjecture to argue that it would promote more rule breaking as it would allow you to sneak out and do other things which would involve breaking the rules. However, that would be easy to argue against. Besides, I could use a challenge, and it would be rather fun to try and create a map like you want.”

“Of course you would think of it as a fun activity,” James rolled his eyes at her.

“Do you want my help or not,” she crossed her arms, and her brother quickly stopped.

“Of course!” James said quickly, as the boys gave them an amused look.

“Okay, so what’s the first thing this map needs?” she asked, as she listened to them throw out ideas of different things they could include.

Fleamont sat in his study as he took a sip of the firewhisky he had poured out for himself to get through the meetings he would have to. He knew it was only a matter of time before he came to Fleamont, wanting to talk about his alliances. And while Fleamont would never be as rude as to suggest he just didn’t show up that day, it didn’t stop him from wishing he could tell the older man off, saying he had no interest in what he had to say, nor did he care enough to join him on his journey.

But instead, he sat back in his chair. His wife was thankfully out at a society lunch, and he was grateful for that. Not that he suspected she would ever be in danger. But it was always reassuring to know that she wasn’t involved in all of this. Not yet anyways.

He would have to bring her in eventually. He didn’t keep very much from Euphemia in their many years of marriage, and he wasn’t about to start now. She deserved to know the truths about what was happening. That he and her brother believed it could bring true devastation on them all. That they both suspected something was off about Draco and Hermione; not in a threat sort of way, but their magical cores were far more powerful than it should be for their age. It also didn’t help that he knew a war was coming, they all did; so they needed to take certain precautions to ensure that his family would be safe. That she and their children would be safe. Because he could never forgive himself if any of them got hurt because of all of this.

She didn’t know that he was visiting today, and he knew that if she had any idea, she would refuse to leave him alone. It wasn’t as if the two men were enemies; they were on the same side in a way. But Fleamont knew better than to trust the other’s political moves and motives.

The sound of the floo resonated, and Fleamont heard the man step out, and dust himself off lightly.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me Fleamont,” Albus Dumbledore said as he made his way into the study and sat down across from him.

“Your letter sounded rather urgent,” Fleamont said, without rolling his eyes at the man’s dramatics. “What is it that you wished to discuss.”

“You and I both know something greater is coming,” Dumbledore said, jumping straight into it. “All of these political plays and pieces of legislation are mere distractions. In the last two months there have been several attacks on areas with a majority muggle population. It doesn’t take much to put all of these together and make the connection that it’s all related.”

“I too suspected as much,” Fleamont said, trying not to betray himself.

“It’s all related,” Dumbledore repeated, “All of this is just foreshadowing, Fleamont, of what’s to come. It’s not just going to go away. This is going to get far worse from here on out. It will turn into a full-blown war before we even realize that there is an enemy. Before we know it, the lines will be drawn and the sides decided. Before we even know it, we’ll be fighting our friends and our families because of our different beliefs. And we need to stop it before it ever gets that far. We need to stop this, once and for all. Because this path we are about to go down, if no one stops it, will be hard to come back from. It will lead to hatred, injustice, to horrifying actions being committed. We cannot allow it to even get close to that point. We need to stop it before it gets there.”

“And what do you suggest?” Fleamont asked, raising a brow.

“They have their fighters, this Voldemort. He sends them out to wreak havoc on us all. He sends them to cause pain and destruction. To kill. And the Aurors aren’t able to stop it in time more often than not. We need a war council, a group of people who will fight against this all. A group of people who know the enemy and know how to put an end to it a light order that is capable of fighting back against it all. And in doing so, will be able to put an end to the darkness once and for all.”

“No,” Fleamont said simply, and Dumbledore looked caught off guard off that.

“Pardon me?” the older man asked him, unsure of what he was hearing, “Was I unclear while attempting to describe the threat that the Dark poses to us?”

“You were not,” Fleamont said simply, “The Dark isn’t the problem, Albus, it’s Voldemort that is the true threat.”

“They are one and the same!” Dumbledore argued.

“They are not,” Fleamont said, glancing at the man. “I agree with you that there is a very real threat to our society, and if left unchecked, will ruin us al. But I do not agree with you on what the threat is. I’m tired, Dumbledore, of you blaming the Dark for every single problem in our world. You should know better than any of us the importance of a balance in magic. It is why the Wizengamot seats are distributed as they are. The Dark is not to blame for Voldemort just as the light is not immune to joining him.”

“Grindelwald was a dark wizard!” Dumbledore shouted out, “And look what he did to Europe. Do you want that to happen to us?”

 “You forget, that some of us are old enough to remember the stories that you were once his friend,” Fleamont said softly, “That you too believed in his cause. You may pretend to be light, Dumbledore, but some of us know better. Do not attack the dark side because of your own vendetta against them. Once you do that, you’ve already lost this war.”

Dumbledore turned red, as he stood, “I hope you change your mind Fleamont. For the sake of us all.”

And with that he stormed out of the study, not saying another word.

It was Halloween when Hermione noticed the shift in the atmosphere. Halloweens had been relatively uneventful since coming back to the past. She supposed it had a lot to do with the fact that so many people were no longer trying to kill her best friend, which meant for calmer holidays. But it also didn’t change the fact that she could feel something brewing in the air.

She didn’t think she was in danger, she couldn’t feel a sense of dread in her gut that she had started to feel during the war when she knew something bad was about to happen. But it didn’t stop her from being on her guard, knowing all too well that things could shift rather suddenly when she least expected it. It was why she was sitting at the Gryffindor table, with one hand on her wand, and the other she used to eat her dinner carefully, looking around trying to engage in what was going on around her.

She ate carefully as she saw her brother smirk at his friends, and she instantly knew that he was about to pull a prank. But he schooled his face as quickly, and she was left wondering just what insanity he had pulled this year. He looked over at her just then, and gave her a knowing look, as if he knew all too well that she was aware that he was up to something.

In the years since she had come to school, she knew his pranks had greatly changed. They stopped being targeted at specific people, unless of course it was at one of them, and was now aimed at the school in its entirety. Something which she had appreciated, as it meant that Slytherins were no longer left dangling around the school, and instead was something they all experienced together.

She knew there were still people who were not fond of the idea of the pranks, but they weren’t explicitly hurting anyone, and that was all she could ask for. Besides, they could use some lightening up, given how serious the world had become all around them in the past few months.

“Is this the real life, or is this fantasy?” a kid from Hufflepuff stood on the table of his house and began to sing. He looked confused through it all, and by the looks the others shot him, so were they.

“Caught in a landscape, no escape from reality,” a Ravenclaw fourth year sang out, as she looked absolutely puzzled.

“Open your eyes, look up to the skies and see,” A Slytherin third year sang out, and his friends looked confused at him.

One by one, students stood up and sang line after line from Bohemian Rhapsody, a song she knew all too well because of her parent’s love of Queen. She watched in amusement as they all sang together on the choruses, and as the prank spell caused her to stand up and sing her own line, she couldn’t help but make eye contact with Draco.

“Easy come, easy go, will you let me go?” she sang out, standing on the Gryffindor table as the spell forced her to sing it out. Draco in turn, laughed as he smiled at her. And when he stood up to sing his own line, she couldn’t help but laugh in return.

“Bismillah! No, we will not let you go,” Draco sung, looking directly at her.

For the most part, the students looked relatively confused, save a few muggleborns who knew exactly what it was that they were singing out as they had amused looks on their face. Even the professors looked absolutely stunned as they were forced to sing their own lines of the song, and all of them joined in at the chorus once more as the song came to an end.

“Brava, Brava,” Dumbledore said, clapping his hands, “What a treat that was indeed. Five points to each of the students responsible for putting on such a spectacular show.”

James and Sirius grinned at each other, as Remus simply shook his head. She knew all too well the prefect had been involved in the prank, despite having to attempt to be more responsible now that he was in a position of power. However, a small smile cracked on his face despite it all. And Peter was absolutely beaming as his own badly sung lyrics left him feeling ecstatic.

“Nice work,” she murmured to them quietly.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” James said innocently, as McGonagall shot a glare their way.

“Mmhm,” she said, pretending to believe them, “I was going to say that it was absolutely brilliant, but I suppose I won’t since you said you have no idea who was behind such an amazing stunt. I guess no one deserves my praise for such amazing handiwork.”

He looked torn at that and she wanted to laugh, “What a shame really. It was rather brilliant wasn’t it? It’s a shame that they’ll never get the praise they properly deserve, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely,” she said with a nod. “Too bad really. However, at least they’ll have the satisfaction of knowing the managed to pull off such a brilliant feat. It will have to be enough, won’t it?”

He groaned at that, “You and I already know the truth, why am I trying to hide it from you?”

“Plausible deniability,” she grinned. “I’m proud of you, big brother. That was absolutely brilliant.”

He beamed up at her and she laughed as she pushed her wand further back into her robe pockets and began to eat peacefully.

When Hermione brought up the topic of blood magic and family magic to Lily, she had hoped that the curious muggleborn would do just as she had when she was a student at Hogwarts. That her curiosity would get the better of her and that she’d be curious enough to get her blood tested to see which family she belonged to. It was only right, after all, that the girl was given the chance to fully connect with her magic before Voldemort gained too much powers and made it almost impossible for muggleborns to have any such rights to come across such knowledge or even get their lines tested. For it would disprove everything he spewed that they were less powerful, less deserving of their magic. Because without a proper claim to their lines, how could they truly ever be one with their powers truly?

So when Lily came into the library that day, holding an envelope, Hermione closed her book curiously, wanting to see what it was that it contained.

“What is it, Lily?” Hermione asked, as Lily sat down beside her, the envelope on the table beside them.

“I got my blood tested,” she said softly, “You mentioned family magic so many times over the years, and I wanted to know the truth. I went over the summer but I’ve been too afraid to open the results just yet. But I think I’m finally ready to know the truth. I need to know which family I belong to and what it means. I thought my entire life that it shouldn’t matter who my parents are and if they had magic or not. But it matters. It doesn’t make me less than any pureblood or half-blood for not having magical parents. But if I’m not truly grounded to my magic then how can I go about properly trying to get an education? If I’m not applying myself fully, if I am holding myself back because the light forgot the power of family magic and the dark thinks I’m unworthy then I am doing a true injustice to myself. I need to know, Hermione, but I am afraid of what it will say.”

“Why?” Hermione asked her friend softly, wanting to know the reasons her friend was so afraid.

“What if it says something that I am not ready to hear? What if the true truth is something that the world will never be able to accept? What if it’s not some family who has fully died out and that family wants nothing to do with me?” Lily asked in a rushed voice.

“If that family wants nothing to do with you, then it is their loss,” Hermione spoke in a reassuring tone, “As long as you do not betray your family’s magic, you cannot be dispelled from it. You may not be made heir to your line, but that depends truly on your family. It’s the same way Sirius cannot just be kicked out of his family, nor can I or James. We have to do something that truly betrays our family to the point where our Head of House has no choice but to dispel us.”

Lily looked a little calmer at that, but she still had a stressed look on her face so Hermione took her hands in her own.

“And if the world does not accept you, then fight back. We don’t need them to approve. Just because they want to hold you back from knowing does not give them the right to be able to do so. You deserve to know your heritage; to know where you come from and where you belong to. You deserve that, Lily. I’ll stand by your side no matter what, and so will everyone else.”

“If this works, then I won’t stop until every muggleborn knows that it is their right to have their blood tested,” Lily said in a passionate voice. “We all deserve the right to decide to know where we came from. It’s not fair that we are being sheltered from such a life because we aren’t believed deserving to know. I want everyone to know that we have the right to know. Regardless of what they think.”

Hermione smiled at her, “I’ll help you,” she told the older girl. “We’ll make sure everyone knows that they can choose. That they aren’t lesser than half-bloods or purebloods if they don’t do this, but they have the chance to if they want to.”

“Thank you,” Lily looked at her gratefully. “For listening to me through all of this. I know this mustn’t be a big deal for you, given that you’ve always known where you’ve come from. But it means a lot to me that you care enough to listen to me and help me through all of this.”

“Always,” Hermione told her softly. “I’ll listen to you through it all.”

She trembled slightly, holding the envelope in her hands, “I guess I’ve put this off for long enough. I need to know where I’ve come from to know where I need to go after this. If I’m to claim the magic of my ancestors then I at least need to know which ones I come from.”

Hermione nodded, as she held Lily’s hand as she opened the magical parchment, drawing her family tree through it. And at the top lay the name of her earliest, most prominent ancestor. The one who’s family she belonged to, and magic she shared. The name of her family line, despite all the various branches which some had died out, and others barely remained. With her name at the very bottom, she could fully trace her name up all the way.

And the name at the top stood out in large print for her to read as clear as day: Salazar Slytherin.

Chapter Text

“How?” Lily asked in a near whisper. “I can’t be related to a founder. It’s not possible.”

“Lily,” Hermione said softly, “It doesn’t have to change anything if you don’t want it to.”

And it didn’t, not really. She could see the fear in her friend’s face, to be related to someone who had now been painted as so evil because of the manipulations of history. Especially an old, powerful family.

“He hated muggles, Hermione, hated them to their core. He didn’t want any muggleborns at the school, so much so to the point where he built an entire chamber that was designed to have a monster to prevent muggles from entering. How could I, a muggleborn, be his descendant? How does that make any sense? I think something went wrong with the test. I should ask Gringotts to re-do it, because clearly these results are skewed,” Lily said in a panicked voice.

“The test doesn’t lie, Lily,” Hermione said to her. “If it says you’re Slytherin’s descendant, then it’s true. There’s nothing that can change that.”

Her friend shook slightly, and Hermione saw tears of fear streaming down her face, so she decided to intervene.

“Do you know why he hated muggles?” Hermione asked her softly, “It’s not a widely known reason, just that he did.” Lily shook her head, and she decided to elaborate, “Before he joined the other three founders, he lived in a small village in the fens of England. He had a wife and a child, both of whom held magic, in a time where magic was feared and those with it were hunted. His child was young, and wasn’t always able to control his magic, and so he was found out one such day while playing with some other of the village children. And when Slytherin was away, his wife and son were carted up to be executed. By time Slytherin came back, he tried to fight to save them, but it was too late.”

“At that time, muggleborns were killed almost immediately. They didn’t have a chance of surviving because it was hard to keep it a secret from their own families. So by the other three founders making the decision to let them in, as they wanted to shield them from the muggles, posed a serious security risk in Salazar’s eyes. If muggleborns knew about a school, then their parents had to know. And since the Statute didn’t exist, there was nothing stopping muggles from talking to each other about the magic. All they could rely on was hope and their wards. Muggle Repelling Charms were not invented yet, so security around the castle was far laxer than it is now. That’s not to say that it would be easy for them to have broken in. But it was far more possible than it is now. Slytherin hated muggles for what they did to his family, having seen their cruelty first hand. It was common back then to distrust muggles. How could they not when so many of them had murdered their kind? The same kinds of concerns do not necessarily hold true now,” she said to her friend, as Lily listened with understanding.

“I see,” she said softly. “It doesn’t change the fact that if I were to choose to claim my family magic it would cause quite the stir. A Gryffindor who is a descendant of Slytherin?” She was quiet for a few minutes. “The hat gave me a few choices. It asked if I wanted to be Gryffindor for the brave, Slytherin for the ambitious, or Ravenclaw for the studious. I chose Gryffindor.”

“Which means you could have belonged to any of the houses, especially that of your bloodline,” Hermione reminded her. “It doesn’t mean anything. Look at Sirius. His entire family was in Slytherin, and he chose Gryffindor. It doesn’t change anything about you.”

“I don’t have any of their magic,” she murmured, “I cannot speak to snakes nor am I skilled in the dark arts.”

“Have you tried any dark magic?” Hermione questioned, and when the girl shook her head, Hermione continued on. “Sometimes people are born with their traits. Sometimes it gets lost. The Blacks once held powerful metamorphmagus powers, but it died out over the years due to intermarrying. It is possible, however, when you claim your family magic, that you’ll gain that ability. Or you may not.”

“I’m related to him, then, aren’t I?” Lily hesitated, “To Voldemort. To the person who is murdering so many innocents. I’m related to him. He’s the heir of the house.”

“He’s the heir because he is, or was, the only living relative,” Hermione corrected, “But that does not make him Lord Slytherin. I have a feeling magic has rejected what he is doing. Salazar Slytherin’s magic does not support his actions, so he may never become lord of the house.”

“But I could be?” she asked, in a disbelieving tone.

“Maybe,” Hermione said softly, “Or maybe not. Either way, just because you are related to him, does not make you evil. We cannot choose our family. Sometimes we are lucky, and sometimes not so much.”

“I think I want to wait before I claim my magic,” she said with a sigh, “I need some time to process it. And I need even more before I decide if I want to become the head of the house, or at least try to be. It’s all too much.”

“I know,” she said softly, “Take your time, Lily. It’s a big decision to make.”

“But it is the right one,” she said determinedly. “Think of the advantage muggleborns could have, if only we knew about such things? We could have come into the world knowing something, having the same standing as everyone else. Instead we are kept in the dark. I want every muggleborn, or half-blood like Severus to claim their family magic. We deserve the right to know that it is an option.”

She smiled at that, knowing that if she were to have help with getting muggleborns to be more knowledgeable about their magic, then it would be harder for purebloods to oppress them. How could Voldemort claim them to be lesser when they held the same magical powers in their blood? It shouldn’t make a difference if they did or not, but they deserved the chance to at least know it was an option.

Hermione looked at the potion in front of them as a thunderstorm brewed over their heads. It had been months in the making. Months of having to re-do everything, because every time something would go wrong. Every time something would happen and they would be back to square one, having no choice but to re-do what it was that they had accomplished. And she was tired of having to constantly restart the process. She wanted to be an Animagus, and she’d rather they were successful sooner rather than later.

“Are you ready?” Draco asked her, as he handed her the vial of her own mandrake leaf. She took it from him gracefully, as the thunder boomed around them.

“I am,” she murmured. And she was. She wanted to be there for her friend. But she knew she had to admit that it would be a powerful skill to have under her robes. Who knew when such a thing would come in handy? And it was hardly as if they needed to spend time focusing on their education. Not when the curriculum had hardly changed over the last couple of decades, and would not change for a few more

She held her vial as they recited the incantation, “Amato Animo Animato Animagus.”

Both of their wands immediately began to glow brightly for a few minutes, and after it was done, she held her vial up to Draco’s. He nodded at her, and they both drank their potions. Suddenly, she felt her bones begin to shift around her. She felt herself falling all at once, and unconsciously she spread out her arms. To her surprise, she felt herself soar, before landing on the ground. She looked over to see Draco, and where the boy once stood, a large white snake stood in its place.

Of course his Animagus form was a snake.

She looked at her reflection in the window of the Astronomy tower, and to her surprise, she saw an owl staring back at her. It shouldn’t have surprised her, not really. She always was meticulous about her work, so much so to the point where she knew she annoyed others from time to time.

She felt herself shift back then, wanting to be human once more. As Draco did the same, she threw her arms around him.

“We did it,” she breathed, and he sighed against her, as he wrapped his arms around her as well.

“We did,” he said, and even though she couldn’t see it, she knew he was smiling. “We did it Granger.”

She didn’t move for a minute, staying in his embrace as she thought about how content she was just then. He didn’t move his arms either, and she figured if he were uncomfortable he would have said something by this point.

He pressed his lips to her head, and she nearly startled in surprise. But she didn’t say anything as she stayed in his arms.

There was a certain irony to the fact that she hated flying, and yet and Animagus form could do so. She knew Harry, if he were here, would not be able to stop laughing about. And in all honesty, she was certain James too would make fun of her for a similar thing, once she told him the truth.

She knew however, that entailed telling him the truth about what it was they had done and why they had done such a thing. And she knew he would be less than pleased about that fact.

If becoming an Animagus was hard, then trying to tell James Potter was even harder

“What do you mean you became an Animagus?” James asked, his face filling with shock.

“I mean Draco and I practised and now we can turn into animals just like you,” she said crossing her arms.

James looked up at Draco, as if to try and figure out if it was his fault or hers that now the two of them wanted to run around with them each month.

Draco, in turn, raised his hands up and looked at him, “Don’t blame me, mate. It was her idea. I just went along with it.”

She shot him a dirty look and he quickly dropped his hands, “I mean I wanted to do this too! I believe fully in helping out Remus, don’t get me wrong mate. I just meant she wanted to become animagi.”

“Absolutely not,” James said firmly, “You are not running around with us each month.”

Sirius looked amused at that, Remus looked like he wanted to intervene, and Peter looked just plane uncomfortable.

“I am, and you are not stopping me. Remus told you no, and you still did. What makes you think you can stop me?” she asked him firmly.

“I can tell Mum,” he said, looking pleased.

“And I’ll tell her you are an unregistered Animagus as well, James Fleamont Potter,” she placed her hands on her hips. “Don’t think that it is a one-way street. You are doing the exact same thing that you are telling me off for. Remus is my friend, and I wanted to do this for him. Not for you. I started doing this way before I even knew you were. It’s not my fault you were successful before I was.”

“For the record I think it’s a bad idea that any of you are spending time with me around the full moon,” Remus pointed out, and when Hermione glowered, he raised his hands, “But if you boys can do it, I don’t see why it’s unfair to allow Hermione and Draco to do so as well. Merlin knows they’re more responsible than you lot.”

“See, even Remus agrees that I should be allowed to!” Hermione said, all but stomping her foot in her frustration at her brother.

“Remus likes you better than me,” James rolled his eyes. “That wasn’t even a question, Hermione.”

“James,” she said softly, “All my life you’ve been there for me. You’ve kept me safe and made sure time and time again that nothing could happen to me. And I love you for that. I love having a big brother who cares so much about me. But this is my decision to make. I want to do this. So please, support me, instead of fighting me.”

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair, like he often did when he was stressed, unsettled, or trying to simply gather his thoughts.

“Okay. If this is really what you want, then you’re welcome to join us,” he sighed.

She squealed at that and threw her arms around him and he sighed again before hugging her back.

To say the Wizengamot was in an uproar that day would be a large understatement. It seemed as if a certain muggleborn witch, coincidently the same witch his oldest child was very, very, taken with, had taken to informing muggleborns that they could get their blood lines traced and as such, find out which families they once had belonged to.

And it was no surprise that several members of the Wizengamot were less than pleased with this turn of events. Of course they were, how could they not be upset with the fact that muggleborns were no longer going to roll over and accept that they were less worthy than purebloods if they could claim family magic, just as purebloods could? If they could turn the argument that they were just as powerful as purebloods.

Of course, from what Hermione and James had told Fleamont, Lily Evans was an extraordinarily powerful witch, even without access to her family magic. And he knew that the moment she claimed it, she would be a force to be reckoned with.

He knew his son was only fifteen years old, and he still had a long way to go before he reached adulthood, both in age and maturity. But he wanted his son to be successful, and to be happy. And if Lily Evans made him happy, he wanted his son to be with her. There also was the added advantage that her powerful magic would allow for their family line to become stronger.

The Potters were an old family, with the ability to trace back to the Peverell through their line. And while that was common knowledge, what wasn’t was the fact that they could also trace their roots back to Godric Gryffindor.

They had kept it a secret for strategic purposes, after the Potter Massacre of 1756, in which the Potter line had almost completely died out, due to the political battle waged against them by another descendant of the Peverell family, wanting to gain the entirety of the line’s wealth for themselves. The Ravenclaw line had been long lost, for if Helena had any children of her own before her death, she had hidden them well. And the Hufflepuff line was barely alive through the Smiths. The Gaunts had been the last to boast the Slytherin line before they had died out, and now this Voldemort claimed to be the heir to the line.

The Potters did not need to fight a battle of Gryffindor versus Slytherin to win this war. That battle had taken place long ago. But he knew realistically that there was a chance that the truth would need to come out in order for them to win this war. They may just need to access all of their family magic possible to win and use it to gain alliances. He never thought he would need to use his connections to this extreme. But if it was what was needed, then it was what he would do.

“It’s a disgrace!” Odgen stated, furiously, “How dare these muggleborns come into our world and try and claim our magic as their own?”

“They have the right to it!” Augusta Longbottom argued against him, “It belongs to them just as it does to you. If magic has deemed them as worthy, then who are you to go against magic and determine otherwise?”

He looked around the room as they continued to argue and bicker, trying to see who lay on which side of the line. While it was very apparent that those who blatantly supported Voldemort were opposed to the actions of the muggleborns in the school, he was surprised by the amount of wizards who did not believe in such actions.

“Why is it even necessary?” Benjy Fenwick argued. “Why do they need to use family magic to succeed? Are they not capable of doing so on their own? It is an outdated practise and should not be encouraged.”

“Are you not using your family magic when you heal those in St Mungos?” Abraxas sneered at him, “You use your family magic every day without as so much as thinking of it, so do not pretend that it is some savage practise that you wish you had no part in.”

Fenwick sunk further into his seat at that, clearly not having considered his own actions when having made his argument about the practise.

Fleamont Potter was not surprised to see that the Chief Warlock, Albus Dumbledore, looked anything but pleased at the debate, very clearly against the whole notion of muggleborns having gained access to their family magic. Of course he was; as the self-proclaimed champion of muggleborns, they looked up to him as he continued to support their rights and desire to be treated as equals. But if they gained access to their family lines, they could succeed without him by their side. He would lose his core supporters, and thus a great amount of the power he controlled.

“We should be celebrating,” Fleamont spoke out to them all, “For the first time in years we are finding old lines which we long have thought died out to return to our worlds. Old magic, powerful magic, is making its way back into our world. We got into this predicament because of centuries of intermarrying. And now, there are several new lines that have already emerged in the last two weeks. The Sayre family has re-emerged. The Prince line has gained an heir, which they believed would die out, until Severus Snape joined his grandparents in the family. And several more families which have been gone for years have returned once more. Why are we not celebrating this? We need to embrace them into our world, for they have accepted us already. We just need to do the same.”

The members of Wizengamot looked at each other before the fighting went on and on. Fleamont sighed to himself, realizing that it would be an uphill battle.

Peter Pettigrew sighed to himself as he walked down the halls of Hogwarts. Just when he thought he had something to bond with his friends over, Hermione Potter and Draco Black once again managed to worm their way in.

He was sure that James, who had been so frustrated about the entire thing, wouldn’t allow it. How could he in good consciousness allow his sister to run around with a werewolf? And yet, he said nothing.

“Peter Pettigrew, just the very person that we are looking for,” he heard a familiar voice say, breaking him out of his thoughts.

He looked up to see Nott and Avery looking back at him, and he felt himself almost smile in relief. Out of all the people who could have been waiting for him, he was glad that if it could not be his friends, then it could at least be people who seemed to have his back, had people who genuinely cared about him and his wellbeing.

He smiled meekly at them, “What can I do for you?” he asked, almost shyly, unsure of what it was they wanted.

“We wanted to talk to you,” Nott said in a hushed tone, as he gestured for them to all move towards an empty classroom. He followed them in, waiting for them to say something, anything, as he wasn’t all that certain of what it was that they wanted with him at this moment. They didn’t talk to him often and didn’t acknowledge him in the presence of others. But he had no doubt in his mind that they cared for him, truly cared for him. Which was far more than he could say for certain others.

Avery turned around and looked at him then. “We need to discuss some things, Pettigrew. Especially that of the antics of your Gryffindor friend, Evans.”

“What about her?” Peter asked, uncertain of what it was they were talking about.

“How do you feel about her behaviour in regard to attempting to get muggleborns to trace their bloodlines?” Nott questioned.

He frowned at that, “I think it is unwise,” he murmured. “Muggleborns already face so much prejudice in our world. Why would she want to do anything that would rattle that? And why would she stir up the cauldron? Does she really thin that it makes a difference if she try and claims her family magic? She still doesn’t know anything about this world. She still doesn’t belong, not properly. And she can try and gain whatever grades she wants, but she still is an outsider.”

He felt an unsettled feeling in his stomach, unsure of whether he truly believed in the words that he was saying. Did he truly believe that Lily Evans and the rest of her kind didn’t belong in his world?

He couldn’t say he subscribed wholly to the beliefs, not in the extreme way that certain individuals did. He didn’t think they deserved to die, or anything. But they wasted so much of their time doing things just to please muggleborns. Wasted so much time just trying to make them happy. Not that he was much better than muggleborns, given how useless he could be when it came to spells or anything practical really. Merlin knew that if it weren’t for his friends helping him as much as he did, he wouldn’t really stand a chance at any of this.

The two boys looked at each other, before grinning at him, as if he had answered correctly on a test for once in his life. Not that he knew very much about answering things correctly. It was so strange to him, to know that they seemed pleased with what he had said. That Slytherins had been pleased with him.

Did that make him wrong?

He couldn’t help but wonder about it. Was he wrong in his beliefs if they lined up with what Slytherins, what the enemy believed?

But were Nott and Avery really his enemy? How could they be, when they believed in what he did, without even hesitation? How could they be the enemy when they stood by him when his own friends wouldn’t even do that. It seemed wrong to think of them that way, especially given five years of knowing them. Of having five years of them proving that they really did care about him.

“It seems that we might have far more in common than one might believe Peter,” Nott said, grinning at him brightly. “It seems like you might be an ideal person to join something far greater. That you could be destined for far greater.”

“Like what?” he asked, fidgeting nervously. No one had ever thought that he could be destined for anything great, not his parents, not his friends, nor his teachers.

“We know someone who would be very interested in meeting someone like you. Someone who comes from a different background, and yet, still believes the exact same values that our society needs to embrace in order for us not to die out. Someone who had a lot of power and could show you how to do incredible things. All you need to do is say yes.

He didn’t say anything for a few moments, wondering just who it was that could offer him such a chance at greatness. But how could he say now? How could he, Peter Pettigrew, side kick, failure, forgotten friend, say no to the chance to be more?

And so he did the only thing he could think of that was reasonable. He said yes.

Chapter Text

The first time she ran with her brother and his friends during a full moon, she felt freer than she had in her entire life. Well, technically she flew while her brother ran alongside her, and Draco slithered beside them on the ground.

When she joined her brother in the common room as they were about to sneak out for the night, she could tell he still had his own reservations about letting her go with them, but without a proper reason, he really had no reason to say no for why she shouldn’t be joining them.

“I’ll be careful, Jamie,” she murmured softly as she gave him a reassuring hug. Nothing’s gonna happen to me while we’re out tonight. I promise. And besides, if anything looks like it might go wrong, as a bird I’m the safest of you lot.”

He grumbled at that, “I suppose you have a point,” he said, not looking pleased as he was forced to agree with her. Because she did. Out of all of them, except maybe Peter who could hide easily, she was in the safest position. “Are you ready to be involved in a Marauder tradition?”

“It’s only been a few times since you ran with him without me,” she said rolling her eyes at him.

“Still a tradition,” he said stubbornly. “One I’m graciously trying to share with you. You could at least pretend to be a little happy about that fact.”

“So happy,” she said in a mock serious tone as they made their way down the stairs under his cloak.

“It’s a big deal,” Peter said quietly, as he piped in, “We worked hard at this, and now we get to try and help Remus. It’s a big deal that we managed to do this.”

“No one is saying that it isn’t,” Sirius said in a soothing voice. “Don’t bother getting between them Pete. They like having their false arguments. Neither of them are actually serious about how they feel about this. I’ve learned long ago not to take sides, otherwise Jamie here ends up pouting when you don’t take his.”

“I do not pout,” James said, indignantly. “I am a man. I don’t pout. Not ever.”

“Sure, James,” Hermione rolled her eyes, as she and Sirius exchanged a grin. As they got to the entrance of the school, she could see Draco waiting there for them.

“Ready?” she asked him with a grin, and he smiled back, “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Good,” she grinned, “Let’s go be there for Remus.”

“That’s the spirit,” James said with a grin. They went closer to the Whomping Willow, and Peter transformed first, going in to hit the knot at the base of the tree, like she knew he was supposed to do. They slid into the gap between the ground and the tree after him, and immediately the boys transformed, not wanting Remus to catch a scent of them before they had the chance to. And she followed suit, turning into her owl form. She hadn’t been in the secret passage often in her old life, and it surprised her to see just how different it looked. It was still scratched up and torn, but it hadn’t aged well in the nearly two decades between when Remus had used it in school and when she had gone in during her third year.

Draco grinned at her, or as well as a large snake could grin at her, as they moved towards where they knew Remus would be.

As he came into sight, she felt her heart break, as Remus was curled up in his wolf form, looking like he was in pain. As they drew closer, he perked up at the sight of them, and James and Sirius led him out of the room and into the pathway to the forbidden forest. It was hard for them trying to push Remus back out of the hole in the base of the tree, and the wolf gave them looks which could almost be described as exasperated.

She hooted in laughter as she flew out beside them, and they headed out into the Forbidden Forest as the full moon shone brightly above them. Remus howled into the night as he took off running after James, who had gone in first into the forest.

She smiled at the sight, the difference between the Remus that they had seen when they had first entered the room, and the Remus who ran happily through the woods as he seemed to forget all his pain and his problems. He looked as carefree as he could, and he and the boys ran off without as much of a second thought.

Draco shot a look at her, wanting to see if she was okay, as she had perched herself up on a branch as she watched the boys run off, and she nodded at him before taking off to fly alongside the boys. She drew closer to Remus, and he looked at her with a sense of curiosity. As she flew beside him, he raised a paw, and she landed nearby as he touched her carefully, trying to get a sense of what she was. She hooted at him, and he looked slightly startled before howling back at her happily.

James shot her a look of pride and she flew around him too.

It was a strange feeling, flying so freely, as it made all her problems seem far more lesser than they were. For a moment, she could bring herself to forget about her mission, about Voldemort, and the need to save the future. She could just focus on where they were, at that instance, and what it brought them. She could see why Harry, or even James, had loved it for that matter. Because it was truly a way to forget all of one’s problems in the world and focus simply on what was there in front of them at that moment.

She looked down from where she was flying at Remus, and at the sight of the werewolf looking completely calm and happy, she thought, that at that moment, she could do this forever.

It was in the December of that year that Narcissa Black became Narcissa Malfoy, and Draco couldn’t help but feel upset through the entire thing. He had failed. He had failed his mother by letting her go down the same path that she had the first time. He had failed her by letting her marry the man who would bring her death by forcing his family to bow down before a man who cared only for power and nothing for their own happiness or survival. And if Draco Malfoy was ever born, or whatever happened in his place, he prayed that child would not have to go down the same path he did, forced to live a life that entailed them to never get father’s approval despite trying at every turn to be better. He hoped that said child, his now nephew, would never know the same pains that he had as a child.

He sat in his sister’s room, as Andromeda helped her spell her hair into place, while Bellatrix said bored in a corner of the room.

He knew that traditionally, he should have been with the groom, but he couldn’t bring himself to spend any more time with Lucius Malfoy than necessary. Especially given that it was abundantly clear that Lucius Malfoy very much was the same in this life as he had been in the past timeline.

“Does it even matter if her hair is perfect?” Bellatrix crackled, “Lucius will ruin it soon enough tonight.”

Narcissa blushed, and Andromeda shot her an incredulous look. “No need to be crude, Bella. You sister is allowed to look beautiful. This is her big day after all. Let her have this. Don’t listen to her, Narcissa. You look lovely, my darling. Lucius will be lucky to have you.”

Draco knew that out of his sisters, Andromeda disapproved of Narcissa’s marriage the most out of her and Bellatrix. Bella had made it very clear that she had no interest in Rodolphus, even after marrying the man, she had spent more time away from him following her “passions”, than she spent with her husband. But Narcissa was naive. She wanted the fairy tale romance. But she had chosen the wrong man, if she truly believed that it would be her future husband who would be able to give it to her.

“Can I talk to Narcissa alone for a few moments?” Draco asked his sisters. Andromeda gave him a curious look but didn’t push, and Bellatrix shrugged as she left the room without as much as a look back.

“What is it, Draco?” his once mother asked him in a gentle voice. And immediately he was brought back to his childhood. His mother, who had been there for him through every step of the way. Who had kissed his pains away and had held him tightly whenever he had a nightmare. Who had stood up to his father for him, and always made sure he knew that he was loved. His mother had been there for him at every step of the way, and now he was failing her, by letting her, as his sister, marry the man who would ruin her life.

“You don’t need to do this, you know,” he said softly, despite knowing at this point nothing would be able to dissuade his sister from going through with the marriage.

“You know that I do,” she said softly, “I care for him. He’ll give me the marriage I wanted. And in time he could love me. This is the life I want, Draco.”

He wondered at that moment, how his sisters could wind up in wildly different marriages to wildly different men. Ted Tonks, the muggleborn who defied society to marry Andromeda. Rodolphus Lestrange, the man who craved power, but lusted a wife enough to allow her to run around and do whatever he wanted. Lucius Malfoy, the man who’s ambition for power would become the downfall of his wife and son. And Draco couldn’t stop any of it. Well at least the last two anyways.

“I know,” he murmured softly, “But know this, Narcissa. You aren’t alone in this. If you find that you are unhappy in your marriage, the Blacks have primacy over the Malfoys. Talk to Arcturus, or talk to Sirius when he becomes head of the house. Both of them would do anything to help you if you as much as need it. You are not alone. I would do anything for you, Cissy. Please don’t feel as if you need to struggle alone.”

She stood from where she had been sitting and enveloped him in a tight hug. And all of a sudden he felt like he was five again, in his mother’s arms after Lucius had taken out his anger on Draco for not being able to grow up, as he still played with his toys. He felt her protection then, as he felt it now. But now was different, he needed to be the one who protected her from this life she was about to live.

“Thank you, Draco,” she said softly, “I appreciate that you feel that way. I want you to know that while you might be the youngest, you are the one that makes us all proud, every single day. You’re defying all expectations of you and thriving despite it. Do not let anyone tell you what you have to or cannot do. Make the decisions that make your heart feel happy, or you will be filled with regrets. Live your life, Draco.”

He felt his throat constrict as his mother knocked on the door to tell them it was time.

He kissed his sister on the cheek softly, as he made his way down to the grand hall where their celebrations were to take place. The wedding of a Black to a Malfoy was a grand affair, and half of their world had been invited, as well as every single prominent member of society.

Thankfully for him, it meant that Hermione would also be there, sitting on the Blacks side. He moved to where she was, sitting beside her.

“Are you okay?” she asked him gently, and he shook his head. How did he bring himself to explain the mixture of emotion he was feeling? The pain, the regret, and the sorrow? He had failed his mother and now she was marrying the man who would all but sign her execution warrant. And he couldn’t do anything to stop it from happening.

She intertwined her fingers in his and he smiled gratefully as he held her hand tightly, taking comfort in it.

“It will all work out,” she murmured softly. “The Black family fell last time around, and she had no one to turn to when things got tough. This time she has Sirius and Regulus. She has Andromeda, and she has you. You made it so her sister is still in her life. You made it so that Sirius doesn’t hate all of his family. You made it so that the Blacks will be strong. She won’t go through the same things, not this time around. We won’t let that happen.”

He nodded, letting her words wash over him as they calmed him. He knew that she was right. She was Hermione Granger, when was she not?

He watched, as his sister, radiant as ever, made her way down the aisle and towards Lucius Malfoy, who stood proudly on the other end. As they were married to each other, he felt himself holding Hermione’s hand tighter, and she didn’t as much as flinch at the action.

There would be a time and place for his own feelings, but for now, he would take comfort in the kindness she showed him.

He might not be able to stop his sister from getting married to Lucius Malfoy, but he’d be damned if he’d let anything happen to her this time around.

She should have been surprised when James brought it up one day when she and the boys were hanging out in an old classroom as they drew out the prototype for the Marauder’s map. It didn’t have half the charms it would need to, not yet anyways, and the lines were still shaky, but it was a work in progress. And more importantly, she got to help create the legendary map itself.

She raised her wand, to correct the lines Remus had been drawing and he gave her an appreciative grin at that.

“We need cool names,” James said suddenly and she nearly dropped her wand.

“You are aware you already have a name, right?” she asked him softly, and he shook his head at her.

“I don’t mean like that. I mean cool nicknames for each other. We’re the Marauders, well I mean technically Draco and you aren’t but that’s just cause you weren’t there when we made our blood vows.”

“You did what?” she asked voice growing quiet. Blood vows were serious, and James tended to act without properly think things out. And the last thing she needed was for this to be one of those times.

“Uh I mean nothing,” James said quickly as Sirius shot him an incredulous look and Remus shook his head simply.

“What do you mean blood vow?” she asked, her voice dangerously low.

“It was nothing serious, Hermione,” James reassured her. “We just did simple things. Like we’d always be there for the other, we’d die for one another, and so on. And curses on us and our family if we don’t. it was our way of showing each other that we were serious about one another. The curses we inflicted were like becoming ugly and stuff. Nothing major, I promise. Mum made sure I knew the seriousness of such magic early on, you know that.”

She sighed at her brother, wanting to be mad. But it was just such a him thing to do. How could she be mad when she knew three out of four of the boys would die for each other? She couldn’t speak for Peter, but she knew from his increasing distance from her that he probably wouldn’t as inclined to die for his friends. Hell, in the past timeline he sold them all out the moment the chance came along. But she also knew better than to assume that things would follow the same path. Even if Peter was destined for darkness, there was nothing saying the path in which he got there would be the exact same. She couldn’t be the one to drive him there, but she couldn’t discard the fact that it was more likely than not that he would still end up going the same route as before.

“What kind of nicknames,” Sirius asked, perking up at that, “I want one that makes me sound cool! Like the Brave one.”

James threw a quill at him, “We’re all brave. We’re Gryffindors. Except Draco who I’m half convinced is Gryffindor until he does something so blatantly Slytherin. I was thinking we have names related to our forms though. Like I could be Sprinter or something.”

“You sound like one of Santa’s Reindeer,” Hermione snorted.

“Quickfoot?” James asked, trying to brainstorm.

“I want to be Padfoot!” Sirius said quickly, “Cause the bottom of my paws have pads on them!”

“You stole mine!” James accused, “Remus tell him that’s not fair.

“It suits him,” Remus shrugged, giving Sirius a quick smile, “What about Cutetail?”

“No way!” James whined, “That sounds absolutely ridiculous. I want something majestic. If I can’t have it be about my speed then I want it to be about my antlers. They’re great!”

“Do you want to be called Antlers?” Peter asked, looking unsure.

“Sounds dumb,” Draco snorted.

Hermione smiled, knowing fully well which names the boys would be given. But watching them snowball nicknames was on another level of greatness.

“What about Pronghorn?” Remus suggested, “It’s another type of stag species.”

“Too mouthy,” James scrunched his nose, “It doesn’t quite roll off the tongue, you know?”

“Prongs?” Sirius suggested, as he leaned back in his chair. His robes were on the chair, and his shirt unbuttoned. And looking at him, it was clear to see why so many of the girls in their school found him desirable.

“That’s perfect!” James grinned, “I knew you had my back, Padfoot.”

“You both are ridiculous,” Remus rolled his eyes.

“You’re just jealous we haven’t given you one yet. Don’t worry Moony, we haven’t forgotten about you yet,” James grinned.

“Moony?” Remus asked, and immediately the boys looked embarrassed.

“Well we kinda have been calling your werewolf form that for the last few years,” Peter said sheepishly.

“Because you’re still you, even as a wolf, but you’re also not,” James interjected, “It didn’t make sense to call you by the same name.”

“That makes sense,” Remus shrugged, “But why Moony.”

“Because the moon makes you moody,” Peter said. “Not that you don’t have a right to be moody. But you’re kinda always sad so it just stuck.”

“You lot are ridiculous,” Hermione sighed at them, but Remus simply laughed.

“Now Peter,” Remus said, “He needs one still.”

“His tail is slightly strange,” Sirius said, looking at Peter. “I mean most rats have weird tails in honesty. But it kinda looks like a sickly worm.”

“Wormtail!” Sirius and James said in unison as they came to the realisation at the same time.

“I like it,” Peter beamed at them, and Hermione stared at them all in confusion.

“Hermione and Draco need one too,” Sirius said, grinning at them both.

“Oh no,” Hermione shook her head, “I’m perfectly happy without one.”

“Mini Prongs!” James shouted out.

“Definitely not,” Hermione said quickly, “I’m an owl for Merlin’s sake! A beautiful tawny owl. I am not being called Mini Prongs.”

James pouted at her, and she nudged him.

“She has sharp claws,” Sirius said thoughtfully, “She left deep marks in the branch she had been resting on at one point during the night.”

“Sharpclaw?” James asked, and she shook her head.

“Too much like Ravenclaw,” she explained.

“They’re also called talons,” Remus said, and she grinned at that.

“Talons,” James said, looking at her fondly. “It suits you. Sharp and dangerous.”

She smacked him at that, and he gave her a look to show that she proved his point.

“Draco’s turn,” Sirius said in a gleeful voice.

“Slytherhiss,” James grinned.

“No way in hell,” Draco shook his head. “I refuse to let you call me that.”

“Slytherin through and through,” Sirius said fondly. “My baby cousin is literally a snake.”

“Bugger off,” Draco said, in a tone without much anger.

“Poisonscales,” Peter threw out.

“His scales aren’t even poisonous though,” James pointed out. “Hey are you poisonous, Black?”

“Only if I bite hard enough,” Sirius shot him a smirk.

James laughed at that, as Draco rolled his eyes.

“I haven’t exactly tried to bite many things,” Draco said with a shrug, “But I suppose it’s worth investigating.

“Silverfang,” Remus said, “Because literally other than your eyes, you’re completely white in your Animagus and human form.”

“My fangs are white,” Draco said indignantly.

“But Silverfang is so much cooler,” Sirius said with a grin.

“It’s done!” James said excitedly, “We all have cool names.”

She smiled at her brother at that but noticed that the only one who looked less than pleased was Peter. And she knew he was starting to look displeased more and more these days.

Of course Hermione Bloody Potter was now all but a bloody Marauder in name. Peter stormed down the halls of Hogwarts, annoyed out of his goddamn mind. It wasn’t enough that she had to ruin being an Animagus with her interference, but she also had to get her own bloody nickname.

It seemed that these days, his friends would rather be friends with her and Draco Sodding Black out of all people. It was unfair, and he was filled with nothing but resentment. They didn’t even notice all the other students who gave him a hard time when they weren’t around. He didn’t notice the looks of pity people gave him to make it seem like he didn’t belong with them. It wasn’t fair; he was just as worthy as being their friend.

It seemed like these days, only Nott and Avery were interested in being his friend, and the only ones who seemed to truly came about him, without any sort of hidden agenda or ulterior motive.

If only his actual friends felt the same way about him.

It was why he was going to the potions classroom after hours in the dungeons to meet up with Nott and Avery, as apparently they had something very important to talk about. Something they needed him for.

So of course they went there to meet him.

What he didn’t expect was to see Lucius Malfoy standing there, waiting to talk to him.

“I thought you graduated,” he blurted out.

Malfoy shrugged, “I told Slughorn I wanted to speak to a student about possibly mentoring them and giving them the chance to take a path they wouldn’t have before because they didn’t have the right resources.”

“And is that why you’re here?” he asked, stuttering slightly, unsure of why Avery and Nott would have set up a meeting between him and Malfoy.

“I’m here because I’ve heard interesting things about you, little Gryffindor. I’ve heard that you don’t necessary agree with the nonsense Albus Dumbledore is spewing out, and that you’d like a change in the way the world works.”

“So what if I do?” he asked, raising his head, almost defiantly.

Malfoy shot him a wide smile at that, “Well it just so happens, little Gryffindor, that I’m the perfect person to help you get there.”

Chapter Text

It was late January before they finally began to see any real progress on the Marauders Map. Even with her and Draco’s added help in creating such a thing, it still took a significant amount of charms and creativity to get it even remotely working. Charms she hadn’t even considered, just to track magical signatures within the school, and charms to show for things like the moving staircases at any given time. It took a lot of trial and error.

In the beginning James had propositioned adding a charm to every single person in real life just to get it to show up on the map. And they had spent a solid week tagging every single student in her brother’s year in Gryffindor. And that quickly fell apart when someone from the Ministry of magic came to visit and they quickly realized that there would be no possible way of tracking outsiders to the school. And what about students who were new? Students who they didn’t have access to?

The biggest problem by tagging every single person was that while students may not notice a tracking charm, their professors most likely would, and would immediately remove it. And that would remove the whole purpose of having a map that showed the location of every single person at any given time.

And in the process of trying to create such a map, something happened which Hermione never thought she would ever see in her entire life. James Potter and Sirius Black willingly went to the library to conduct research.

She loved her brother, ritual or not. And he was many things, smart in his own way, brave, loyal to a fault, and caring. But never once could he be accused of being studious.

Until such a time when it was required for his extracurricular activities. Then he and Sirius each had a stack of books in front of them, working their way through it as they tried to find a solution to their problem. Even Remus hadn’t made as much progress as the two of them, as they read through book after book, taking note on anything which they thought could be even remotely useful to them, and discarding everything that they thought to be irrelevant.

Madam Pince had not been impressed the first time she saw them entire the library, sure that whatever they were up to must have been due to the fact that they were actively trying to research or partake in a prank. And she had watched them like a hawk, giving Hermione and Remus suspicious looks just for being around them.

Even Lily and Severus had been stunned to see James and Sirius trying, for once in their life. Not that they were even attempting studying for their OWLs as everyone else in their year had begun buckling down for.

She was almost impressed with the sheer amount of work that the boys were putting into it. And while she contributed and helped, she knew that they would be able to achieve it with or without her. But it didn’t mean that she couldn’t help by adding her own embellishments, such as figuring out a way for the map to better disguise itself than looking simply like tattered parchment and looking like a piece of paper which simply contained the steps to creating a cold potion, like some of the other stuff she had charmed to hide. Except it took words to unlock over magical signatures, which was for the best, given that she knew it had ended up one day with the Weasley twins. And while she did not know of the fate of the map this time around, she did not want to limit who would or would not be able to use the map in the future.

“I got it,” Sirius said excitedly as he placed his copy Charms and Cartography for Beginners in the centre of the table, “I found a way that we can track the movement of anyone in the school, and one that doesn’t involve having to tag every single student individually.”

“How?” James said eagerly as he leaned forwardly.

“The Homonculous Charm,” Sirius explained. “It can track the movement of every single individual in a mapped area without fail. And it will work regardless of who the individual is, magic or not. Since our map is a charted area, it will show everyone in the school or on the grounds.”

“That’s perfect,” Remus breathed, looking up at Sirius with pride, “I’m proud of you.”

Sirius beamed at him, “See I can do this whole smart thing too, Moony.”

Remus laughed at that, “Sure you can, Padfoot.”

Peter looked at the map, “So this will show everyone who ever talks to each other?”

James and Sirius looked at each other, similar expressions crossing their face.

“Merlin, think about how much dirt we could gather,” James said with a smirk, “We’d know all about which blokes are getting with which birds. It would be fantastic.”

Peter looked slightly nervous at that, and she couldn’t help but have a sinking feeling in her stomach. Why would he be upset about such a thing if he weren’t already meeting up with certain individuals that he didn’t want anyone knowing about.

It didn’t take a lot for her and Draco to figure out what he had meant by that.

“How fantastic,” Sirius grinned, “Merlin we’d have so much dirt on everyone.”

“More reasons why we need to finish this map,” James said pointedly, “But since you found the spell, Padfood, it should be you who tests it and see if it works.”

Remus nodded in agreement, and Hermione sat forward as he raised his wand over the map and she watched as he cast the spell. And immediately the map lit up with little dots and names and tiny footsteps as people’s movements began being tracked. She saw the six of them huddled together in their section of the library and she beamed.

“You did it,” she said, grinning.

“We did it,” Sirius corrected, “If it weren’t for you and Draco we might not have found half the protective charms that we did.”

Peter looked offput at that, and she knew it had everything to do with the fact that other than some drawing, he had barely been able to properly contribute to the map in any way that stood out.

“Shall we test it?” James tested, wiping the map completely.

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,” the boys said together, holding their wands over the map, and immediately the parchment lit up.

“Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, Prongs, Silverfang, and Mme Talons

Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers

are proud to present

THE MARAUDER'S MAP”

“A bit of a mouthful,” Hermione noted, as the addition of hers and Draco’s name meant that now the introduction was a lot longer. “I thought we weren’t Marauders?”

“It would be difficult wording to exclude you then also add that you helped make the map unless we said something like ‘Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs, Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers are proud to present THE MARAUDER'S MAP, with the help of Talon and Silverfang’” Sirius explained to her.

“And it would take away from everything you did,” Remus added.

“So we decided that just this once you can be considered honourary Marauders,” James beamed at her. “Especially since you are just as involved in our excursions surrounding a monthly event as us.”

“I appreciate it,” Draco said dryly.

“We really did it though,” Sirius breathed, “We accomplished this.”

“We did,” Draco nodded at his cousin.

“I think we need to test out our map still,” James said, a devious look filling his face, “Anyone else curious to see just what we can accomplish now that we have this.”

“You read my mind,” Sirius grinned, and Remus groaned. Peter stood up eagerly as they dragged Remus to his feet.

“You want in?” James asked her and Draco. She shook her head, because while she didn’t have any problem intervening in some things to change the course of history, there were other things she was more than happy to let her brother keep as his own.

He shrugged at her as he left them to their own devices.

“You have no idea what they’re going to do now that they have that,” Draco sighed, “I swear if they turn my hair blue one more time I’ll lose it.”

She laughed at that, watching her brother head out of the library. “Let them have their fun. I always regretted that we had to grow up so fast. Let them enjoy their youth, at least for a little while longer.”

He didn’t say anything about that, and she knew he too regretted how fast they were forced to become adults. She leaned into him slightly, and he sighed as she did. At least the two of them were together, through all of this.

Valentine’s day was never a holiday she had paid much attention to, in either time line. Sure, she had sent the odd card or the other, especially in her second year when she was far more infatuated with a certain Defense Professor than she could explain.  But she had rarely been in a relationship around that time. Even during her fourth year when she was seeing Viktor, the most they did was share a singular kiss in the library. But that relationship had quickly fizzled out due to their distance and cultural differences.

And in this time it was no different. Her first few years she was too young and had to much on her plate to care about. The cards she did get, she sent a thank you note for but never bothered reciprocating. And some were sweet, from her brother and the boys, despite knowing none of them cared for her in that way.

It was why she hadn’t been expecting anything that year either, and yet as she sat in the library, waiting for Draco to join her. And when he showed up, holding a picnic basket full of food, smuggled in under several charms, she had been surprised.

“What’s all this?” she murmured, as he set it up on the table, pulling out some butterbeers and handing her some food he had picked up from the kitchens, including several sandwiches, some tarts, some pastries and some fresh fruit.

“I thought since we’re always in here, I can at least bring you some food,” he shrugged, trying to seem light about it.

She felt a lump in her throat, unsure of what to say to him as her heart began to race.

“Look, it doesn’t have to mean anything,” he murmured softly, “The two of us clearly aren’t going to date anyone else in this time, not easily given everything going on. But that doesn’t mean we can’t celebrate a holiday together as friends.”

Friends. Just like the boys had given her some chocolates and cards.

And yet it was different than that. It was Draco who had given it to her. Draco who no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t consider in the same manner that she did the other boys. Maybe it was their history, or the mission they held, but she couldn’t look at him and think of him the same way that she thought of the others.

But it didn’t feel like they were friends. It very much felt like more. And no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t bring herself to say anything otherwise. To mention that maybe, just maybe, it was because she never wanted him to simply have been a friend to her.

The timing wasn’t right. She couldn’t let whatever she was facing get in the way. Not when the stake of the world lay on the line. There was no place for her own feelings. She couldn’t let it get in the way; she wouldn’t let it get in the way.

So instead she said, “Right, friends,” while forcing a smile on her face. And if he wanted to say anything otherwise, he didn’t bother.

Severus Snape knew very little about his mother’s parents. He knew that when she decided to get married to Tobias Snape, she severed all contact with her family, and never once considered reaching back out to them. Even when things got tough, or money got tight. Even when he was abusive and drunk. Even when she easily could have used magic could defend either her and her son.

But she never did. She never used her magic, the very thing Tobias Snape hated, to save them.

Instead, Severus was left as a boy who hated his father, never sure when at any moment he would lash out and hurt them both. Never sure when something would trigger him into a fit of anger and cause him to hit Severus.

He hated it at home; Salazar words could not even describe how much he hated it at home.

So when Lily had come to him, telling him that he could shed his identity as a Snape. He could claim the Prince family magic if magic itself was agreeable to it. And he could belong to the Prince family life if he willed it. If he wanted, he didn’t need to be a Snape any longer. He could be a Prince.

He could shed the very thing that tied him to his drunk, abusive, father.

It was how he found himself, sitting in the Three Broomsticks, waiting for his grandparents to arrive. He didn’t want to make any rash decisions, didn’t want to claim family magic if it would tie him to yet another family who hated him and wished he didn’t exist. He already had one parent who hated him, and one who had no idea what to do with him. He didn’t need more people who wanted nothing to do with him,

When Eleanor and Richard Prince entered the pub, he found himself sitting up straighter. How could he not when upon seeing them, it was very clear that they belonged to two very different worlds. They were upper class, had money, and status. It showed in the very way they carried themselves. And he barely had enough to buy himself potion ingredients.

“Severus,” his grandmother said, while looking at him appraisingly, but also with a small smile on her face. “It is nice to finally meet you.”

“I wished it could be under better circumstances,” his grandfather sighed, “I hoped for a time your mother would return to us. But it seems unlikely.”

“We are glad you reached out to us,” she said softly, “We have dreamed of meeting you from the moment we heard a Snape had entered Hogwarts. We’ve kept up with all your accomplishments. It is impressive that you were the champion of the Wizarding Schools Potions Championship last year and this year. You must have been the youngest winner in the last couple of decades.”

“You’ve been keeping track of me?” he asked, mouth dry. He didn’t have many people in his life who cared about him, not truly. Lily did, as she was his oldest friend. And Hermione Potter, for all her faults, loved one wholly to a tee, if she decided to. But to hear that his grandparents knew of the competition when his own mother didn’t even care was astounding.

“Of course we did,” Richard said, as if it was ridiculous that he would even consider it otherwise.
“You’re our grandson. Even if we couldn’t be in your life, we could still know what was happening in it. Which I suppose brings us to our next point,” his grandfather said softly, “We are glad you reached out to us, Severus. But we wanted to know what kind of relationship you wanted with us.”

His grandmother rolled her eyes at her husband’s tactics, “What he means is that we are glad you reached out to us, Darling. We want to be here for you in any capacity. If you just want us to correspond via owl, that is fine. Or if you wish to rejoin our family, we will welcome you with open arms. If you wish to never speak to us again, it would pain us, but we would respect your wishes.”

“And if I wanted to claim my family magic?” he asked softly.

“Then we would gladly stand by you as our house gained another member,” Richard said, grinning softly.

“Even if it would effectively make me your heir?” he asked, unsure of the process, and what it would mean for them.

Eleanor smiled at him softly, “Severus, your grandfather and I are getting older. While you are under no obligation to claim the lordship of our house in the future, our line will die out otherwise. We have long since accepted it would happen. Maybe we should have shown your mother that she would always have been welcome, but for whatever reason she left us behind. You do not need to be the Lord of the House of Prince if you do not wish to be. But the title is yours, should magic bless it to be.”

He smiled softly for the first time since meeting them. “I wish to accept then. Not just because of the power it would bestow me or the connections I would gain, but because I would gain you both as family. I wish to get to know you both better.”

They beamed at that, and Richard squeezed his wife’s hand.

“Your mother may not be pleased by such developments. But it is your right to claim your family magic. Just make sure she knows that she and her husband are always welcome back into our family. She never had to leave.”

“My father is not as receptive to magic,” he said softly, “And I am unsure my mother will be willing to come back. She is stubborn and seems to have given up all practise of magic. I will let her know of the offer however.”

They exchanged a look at that, and he wondered if they could pick up what he meant by his words.

“Tell us more about you,” his grandmother said softly, “We wish to get to know you personally, and not just from what we hear about from others.”

He nodded, as he spent the rest of the afternoon with his grandparents, getting to know the first family members who actually seemed to care about him.

Bellatrix winced as Voldemort’s magic flared up, causing him to curse the Death Eater, as they had begun calling themselves, who brought the news that since the mudblood bitch Lily Evans had begun tooting the knowledge that muggleborns could get their magic traced to claim their family magic, that more and more muggleborns had begun to do so.

It seemed that by now, the majority of society was aware of one of the best kept secrets of all times.
It had been decided by their society almost unanimously that once a pureblood tainted their family lines, they lost the rights to their family magic. And their mudblood or half-blood children did not deserve the rights to said magic. If a muggleborn came back into their world, then their magic was still weaker than purebloods, and as such deserved not to be in tune with their family magic. After all, they wouldn’t be a muggleborn if their family didn’t throw a squib out somewhere in the line. Their magic was dirty. It was impure. They didn’t deserve to reclaim the pure magic of their line just because they felt entitled to it. They were not even close to deserving of it.

They did not deserve the right to their family magic, and nothing they mudbloods claimed would justify that they did.

And their Lord was less than pleased by the news that muggleborns seemed to believe they had the right to their ancient magic. Because how could they? How dare they come back into their world and fight for the right to the lines which still had many trueborn heirs to it? How dare they claim that they had a claim over their line, when their magic was tainted and lost. Their magic was undeserving.

It was why they never did as well in their world. They didn’t have the raw power that purebloods had and didn’t have enough strength to succeed. It was why so many muggleborns had low paying jobs and couldn’t get matches with more powerful members of society. Because they didn’t belong in their world.

Their Lord was just trying to make the rest of their world see the truth in it. They were blinded by Dumbledore’s desire to integrate their worlds together, to make them more muggle. It was disgusting.

And now they wanted the same magical powers that the rest of them had?

How dare they even come close to thinking that they had the right to want such a thing. They didn’t deserve their magic, let alone their family’s magic. Not when their family had lost their magic for a reason. It had deemed them unworthy and stripped their lines of their magic. Why did they think they had the chance to reclaim it now?

“We need to put an end to this,” Voldemort all but snarled at them all. “Malfoy, why have you not brought this up to the Wizengamot yet? I demand to see legislation against such a thing.”

“It appears as the Grey and the Light factions are siding with the muggleborns,” Abraxas said softly, “Even some of the Dark families view it as positive. It is hard to convey the message of just how wrong it is that these mudbloods are stealing our magic.”

“Then we must make them pay,” Voldemort said, angrily, eyes glowing. “We must make them see just why muggleborns do not belong in our world. Their lines died out for a reason. We must ensure they remain dead. Even if it involves the extinction of certain individuals.”

She grinned brightly as her lord spoke passionately. She may be a married woman, but it was only in name. Merlin knew that she and Rodolphus barely slept in the same bed. She may preform her marital duties, but that didn’t mean that her heart didn’t lie elsewhere.

How could it not belong to the brave man before them, when he was so charming, so handsome, and dangerous? When she could sense the raw power radiating off of him. All she wanted to do was serve him, in any way that he would let her. She would be his warrior, his wand hand, his woman. She would be his everything if he only asked, gladly ready to lay down her life, and the life of any children she and her husband may have for her lord and for their cause.

“In the meantime, we must make sure the other families feel the same way. That it is a curse to have these filthy mudbloods stealing our magic and taking the power from the families who had been unfortunate enough to have squibs over the years, yet still managed to keep their branch of the family strong. They do not deserve this. None of us deserve this,” Voldemort snarked. “IF they become the Lord of the House when they do not belong to the line, what does it say about our world? That one can steal the power as such. It is a practise that needs to be stopped. And it needs to be stopped immediately, or our world will die.”

“Yes my lord,” Abraxas agreed with him, as his sister’s father-in-law nodded, “We must not let such prominent families get tainted. Perhaps we need to make sure that the other families understand the exact consequences of allowing such practises.”

Lord Voldemort nodded at him, “See to it that they do. I do not want to hear about this any longer. Make sure it is dealt with and dealt with soon. The less families tainted, the better. In the meantime, we have much to discuss about our future, my loyal followers.”

Chapter Text

Regulus Black was on his way back to the dorms after classes when he found himself surrounded by a group of Slytherins, both his age and younger.

In his four years of schooling, he had made enough acquaintances to be able to recognize them and talk to them on a last name basis. He wasn’t like Sirius, who everyone ran to, wanting to be friends with due his popularity and good looks. Nor was he like Draco, who seemed to befriend those regardless of their house or social standing, without any notion of how it could affect his social standing.

And perhaps that made him the most Slytherin of all, making alliances which those he knew could be useful.

He knew that his cousin truly did care for his friends. It was hard not to know that he truly cared about Hermione Potter. And it wouldn’t surprise him if he approached her with a formal courtship offer in the years to come. How could he not when he clearly looked at her like she was the brightest star in the sky?

But even with that, he knew that Draco had a harder time making friends in Slytherin due to his ability to befriend those in other houses. It was he, Regulus, who perhaps knew the most Slytherins out of the boys in the Black family. Because no one could doubt that Bellatrix terrified them all into submission, Andromeda was stern but fair in how she commanded those younger than her, and they bent to Narcissa’s will due to her beauty and charm.

Perhaps the fact that he was closer to the age of the boys who approached them helped the fact that they did not look nearly as terrified.

“Can we talk?” Wilkes said, as the other students nodded. There must have been at least ten or more, and he couldn’t help but wonder to himself what this was about.

He entered the classroom that was closest to them and closed the door after they all had entered.

“What is this about?” Regulus asked, frowning.

“You must know that there is a war coming,” one of the younger girls, Amara Zabini said softly. “There is news of attacks every day, of more and more destruction and deaths. It is coming faster than we know what to do about it.”

“I am aware,” he said, frowning softly. How could he not when every time he picked up a newspaper, it was filled with reports of attacks by a group that called themselves Death Eaters.

“Then you must know that they are recruiting, actively so from Slytherin especially,” Wilkes said again, looking at him. “It is only a matter of time before we are asked. You are a Black, Regulus. They will approach your family soon and demand your loyalty.”

“It will be up to the Head of our House to decide if we swear allegiance to this Lord Voldemort or not,” Regulus said.

“Will he?” Zabini pressed, “Will he declare your family to fight by Voldemort’s side in this war?”

“I don’t know,” he sighed. He had been thinking over it for the last several months, knowing that his family would make a stance eventually. But would it be one that he agreed with? Because how could he agree to the senseless deaths of muggles and muggleborns alike? It wasn’t right.

“We don’t want to swear allegiance to him,” Wilkes said softly. “I stand by my Slytherin values. I believe in ambition, in cunningness, and everything our house stands for. But I will not fight in this war against muggles. Not when we worked so hard to separate ourselves from them. Why would we risk everything now? We’re at peace, finally at peace. There is no need for this war.”

“But I cannot support Dumbledore either,” Zabini said softly. “We cannot pretend that he does not look at us with disdained expressions at every turn. We cannot pretend that it is not clear to us that he hates us. That he is certain we’ll roll over and join Voldemort at any given turn. We are to evil because of our ambition. We are not evil because we want to succeed. I want no place in this war. I do not want to fight for either of them. It is like choosing the lesser evil. And honestly if I was forced to choose, I would choose Voldemort since he at least does us the courtesy of not pretending we are monsters for our alliance to our house.”

“I agree,” Regulus sighed frustrated. “My grandfather has been voting neutrally in recent matters, not siding with either the Light or the Dark. Perhaps if our families align, then it will be easier to fight this. I will talk to Draco about this. He’ll know what we should do. He’s gotten through to my grandfather before and gotten him to agree to things we never thought he would. He can get through to him about this too. I am sure of it.”

Zabini smiled at him softly, “Thank you, Regulus,” she said, as she placed a hand on his shoulder. “It means a lot that you would do this for us.”

The younger students nodded.

“I don’t want to die for something I don’t believe in,” a young boy said, shaking. He couldn’t have been more than twelve. He felt anger fill his chest; kids had no place in this war. They should not have been worrying about anything other than homework or who would win the next quidditch match. Not the fate of the world.

“None of us will,” Regulus promised him. “We will fight this; we will not join any battles we do not want to. We will not fight a war that has no right to occur. Not when we do not stand for any of the values and would only be fighting out of the desire to live.”

“Thank you,” Wilkes said with a grateful nod. “We appreciate it, Black.”

Regulus nodded back; he had a lot of thinking to do.

In a rare turn of events, Hermione found herself alone in the library with Lily Evans. Her brother and the boys had decided to play a game of quidditch amongst themselves, and had invited Draco and Regulus to join them, while Severus was off attempting to brew a new potion and had insisted on not being interrupted or having either of them help him.

Not that she minded; Lily Evans, beyond being the mother of her once best friend, and love interest of her brother, was great company. She understood the need for silence while working, but also enjoyed talking to Hermione about things she couldn’t talk to anyone else about.

Recently so, how she decided to break up with Amos Diggory, who was getting far too annoyed with the fact that she had male friends. Specifically, however, that she was friends with James Potter, who had made his interest in her very clear.

And James would never try and do anything to ruin Lily’s happiness, insisting that he would win her heart, fairly, and in time. He had backed off asking her out, due to the fact that he knew it would make her unhappy given the fact that she and Amos were doing well together. And for the first time in a while, Lily and James were able to be in the same room without her cursing him out of annoyance.

It also didn’t help that Amos didn’t seem to think that Lily should have to try very hard in school, constantly doubting her intelligence. As a year older than her, he wasn’t in most of her classes, and didn’t see her brilliance on a constant basis. But her brains were hardly a secret. The fact that Amos constantly seemed to doubt her was taking a toll on her.

“Why are you with him?” Hermione asked softly. “You should be with someone who makes you feel like you are the most important thing in the world. Someone who would do anything for you and your happiness. And he is not doing that.”

“I know,” she sighed, “I’m going to end it. I can’t deal with his constant snide remarks any longer. It’s not fair to me, and I deserve far better than that.”

“You do,” Hermione told her softly. “You deserve everything, Lily. You deserve to be happy with someone who matches your intelligence. Someone who can hold a conversation with you, and someone who would never judge you.”

“Sounds like you’re describing Remus,” Lily said, scrunching her nose, and Hermione nearly had a heart attack. Oh Merlin, did she accidently set up Lily with Remus?

“Relax Hermione,” Lily laughed, “I love Remus, but I don’t see him that way, and I doubt he sees me as such either.”

She paused for a second, “Do you?” Lily asked her, “See Remus that way? Or perhaps Sirius? There is a cliché about falling for your brother’s friends for a reason.”

“Merlin no!” Hermione spluttered out, “They’re like brothers to me. Annoying older brothers. I could never feel for them that way! It would be wrong! Plus Sirius is technically my cousin. It’s too close a relationship. And on top of that, it’s disgusting!”

Lily laughed, “Perhaps it is another Black who has caught your eye? A certain Draco Black, perhaps?”

She blushed slightly at that. Was she that obvious in the fact that she had fallen for him?

“You are close to him,” Lily noted. “You became friends almost as quick as Sev and I did, and we didn’t have the houses to separate us until after years of friendship. Do you feel anything for him?”

“He’s a friend,” she said quickly, and Lily noted the fact that she was avoiding her eyes at that.

“There’s nothing wrong with falling for a friend,” Lily said softly. “It makes for a solid relationship foundation. You already know each other, know about all the highs and lows in one’s life. You know what each other likes, and you care for each other.”

“It doesn’t matter what I feel,” Hermione said softly, “It would ruin everything if I said anything. There’s far too much at stake for me to be blinded by my feelings.”

It didn’t matter that she cared about him, more than just a partner in this insane mission, more than a friend who she had spent nearly four years with in this new time, more than a person who understood everything about her, the only one who knew everything about her. She couldn’t get blinded by her feelings. There was far too much at stake for her feelings to get in the way and destroy the mission. Too many lives counted on it. Lily Evans, who was sitting in front of her, life depended on it.

“Are you talking about your friendship?” Lily asked her softly, “Because I’ve seen how he looks at you Hermione. I know he feels the same way about you too. His eyes light up when you enter the room, and he is constantly watching you when you’re not looking, trying to make sure you’re doing okay. When you were injured, he was a wreck. He cares about you too, even if neither of you are ready to admit it. I’m not saying that you need to rush or force yourself into a relationship with him. I’m just saying you shouldn’t let your fear stop you from finding happiness. You deserve that much.”

Hermione swallowed softly, unable to say anything. How could she, when all she wanted to do was act? How could she when she felt something for Draco Black? How could she when she felt something for Draco Malfoy. The boy who had tormented her. Who had bullied her for years. Who had saved her during the war. Who had fought with her. Who came back in time with her. She couldn’t say anything; there was over a decade of a relationship between the two of them.

Instead she nodded simply, and thankfully for her, Lily dropped the subject, understanding that she didn’t want to talk about it any longer.

It was March of 1976 when the news of the Wolfsbane potion came out, and Hermione let out a breath that she had been holding for a long time.

Finally, news of Damocles’ potion had come to light, saying it was a brilliant new invention which allowed for a werewolf to keep their mind during the potion. And all through Hermione had long since known of the potion, she couldn’t bring herself to steal another person’s work when it hadn’t officially been invented.

Remus, however, seemed unresponsive when she had shown him the article, grinning as this was the most advancement that had been made in lycanthropy research ever. Not only was it in regard for werewolves’ well-being, it was something that could genuinely help them and be life changing.

“It doesn’t matter,” he had said, voice void of emotion. “It probably is unsafe to use. For all we know, this is secretly a way to kill all werewolves or something. And even if it did work, I doubt it would make much of a difference anyways. It cannot stop the transformation. Why would I want to remember and be aware of the worst part of my month? I’d rather be blissfully ignorant so I can separate myself from the wolf and not have to pretend that they’re both the same person. It’s even worse if I know I’m the wolf.”

She had been despondent at that, really thinking

James had pulled her aside later and told her that it wasn’t that he wasn’t as enthusiastic about the potion, but that he didn’t truly believe the potion would work. And even if he did, the ingredients were rather expensive, and he didn’t have nearly enough potions skills to be able to do it himself.

“But we can pay for it,” Hermione told James softly, “It’s hardly something that would break us. And it would make his life easier.”

“The money isn’t the problem for me,” James shook his head, “But none of the boys or I have the skills to brew it, or we would have done it ages ago.”

“I could,” Hermione said softly, “I could ask Lily and Severus for help. I don’t think they’d mind.”

James smiled at her as he kissed her forehead, “Okay,” he told her. “I’ll arrange for the potion ingredients to come in every month, if you can brew it successfully. But don’t beat yourself up over it if it doesn’t work. We’ll find another way.”

Lily was easy to convince, ready to do anything and everything necessary to help their friend.

“I was going to ask you about it,” Lily said with a grin, “I checked though, and some of the ingredients were rather expensive and I couldn’t take care of it myself.”

“James already offered to help pay for it,” Hermione told them, and Severus looked up, rather puzzled by that.

“He did?” Lily breathed. “Merlin. I mean I know money isn’t a big issue for your family, but it’s still a generous thing for him to do for his friend.”

“There’s nothing James wouldn’t do for those he cares about,” Hermione said seriously, “And that includes the two of you. He cares about you both. He would do the same if it were either of you.”

“I doubt it,” Severus scoffed, but he didn’t have nearly enough disdain in his voice.

“He would,” Lily said, smiling softly.

“Fine,” Severus sighed, “At least it will be a challenge. Merlin knows I need one after the joke that is this year’s potions curriculum. I need a challenge, and I don’t have anything on my plate now that the Potions competition this year is over. At least this will give me something to keep me busy.”

She hugged him, and he looked stunned by the action.

“You’re a strange one, Hermione Potter,” he simply said when she pulled away. But there was a certain fondness in his voice, and she couldn’t help but be grateful for his help. It wasn’t that she couldn’t do it alone. But it certainly helped to have others help her. Especially as Severus was a potions prodigy.

He had gained a certain confidence over the last couple of months, and she knew it stemmed from reaching out to his grandparents and being welcomed back into the Prince family line. He had been made the heir of his house, and while his clothes improved, she knew he wasn’t letting it change him. She wondered if he thought that he could lose it at any given moment.

She had seen the same actions in Harry, when having gained the Potter fortune, being wise only to spend it on absolute necessities, and small indulgences like candy.

She would make sure her nephew, while grounded, was given everything he deserved this time around.

“So when do we start?” Severus asked, and Hermione pulled out the ingredients list with a grin.

“I’ve already gained permission from Professor Slughorn to use his classroom. I told him we wanted to try brewing the potion, but that we would be donating it to St Mungos. My mother is on the board there, and she can distribute it to anyone who needed it. He doesn’t need to know that it’s going to Remus. Beside we can always distribute any left overs,” Hermione grinned.

“Clever,” Severus said, as he looked over the instructions. “This doesn’t look all that difficult. We should be able to brew it in time for the next full moon without any complications. Of course, we need to make sure it’s safe before we give it to Lupin, but I think between the three of us, we won’t run into any major complications.”

“Perfect,” Hermione grinned. For so long it had hurt her to know that she couldn’t do anything each month, and now she was joining him as an Animagus, and had ensured that he would be able to get the potion each month which he hadn’t been able to before.

Bellatrix felt herself bristle with excitement as she headed off into her brother-in-law’s study. She had been informed that her lord had wanted to see her for a private meeting, and she couldn’t help but beam with excitement. He wanted to see her, without anyone else other than Lucius Malfoy there.

He had been pleased with her, that much was certain. She had seen what happened to the Death Eaters that had displeased him. She had seen the very public punishments they had faced, seen them beg for mercy as she felt herself bristle, knowing she would never let him down like such. She would never disappoint him or do anything that would make him doubt her loyalty.

Unlike Andromeda, she had been pleased by Narcissa’s choice of a husband. Even if she disagreed with her sister’s desire to only be a society wife, at least she had chosen a worthy husband who would do anything for their cause. At least she had chosen wisely and aligned herself with a powerful family, bringing even more prestige for the Blacks, as they continued to thrive.

“You wanted to see me, my Lord?” she said softly as she entered Lucius Malfoy’s study. Her lord was sitting behind the desk, as Lucius sat on the other side. She took a seat beside her brother-in-law, filled with curiosity as to what he wanted to see her about.

“Welcome Bella,” Her lord said softly as he assessed her.

She sat in silence, waiting for him to say something, as her heart raced with possibilities for what he could want from her.

“Would the two of you say that you are loyal to me and me alone?” Lord Voldemort said softly.

“Yes,” she said immediately, and Lucius nodded feverently. “Of course my Lord.”

“Would you do anything I asked of you? Even if it meant hiding things from your spouses?” her lord asked of her again.

“Anything,” she said without hesitation, knowing fully well that she would prefer the man in front of her over the man she shared a bed and surname with.”

Lucius hesitated, thinking clearly of her sister, and how she would react to such a thing.

She looked at her brother-in-law incredulously. She loved her sister as much as he did, but how could he deny his lord anything?

“Of course,” Lucius said finally, as Lord Voldemort’s eyes narrowed at him.

“As you know this war is progressing more and more each day. With every day that passes we make more advances, we take more strides, and gain more support. But we also gain more and more opposition with every victory. And in such trying times, I need to ensure the survive the survival of my cause. Of my survival should the wrong person get too close and have an opportunity to take me down, and thus destroy our very cause. I cannot have that happening.”

“I won’t,” Bellatrix promised him, “I would sooner die than allow harm to befall you my Lord. I would never let any one even come close to hurting you.”

“I know you would, Bella,” Her lord smiled at her, and she preened under his praise for her. “It is why I have asked you and Lucius here today. Because I need your help in protecting something which will ensure my safety. It will ensure that if anything were to happen to me, that it would not be my end. That I would return and ensure our cause is realized, and that we win this war. I will not allow for anything to happen to myself, nor can I take the chance that even with my skills and abilities, that I am immortal.”

“I will guard it with my life,” she promised. “I will never allow it into the wrong hands.”

“Nor will I,” Lucius promised immediately, knowing that her quickness in response would not look good on his part if he took too long to respond in regard to questions about his loyalty.

“I am glad you both feel that way,” Lord Voldemort smiled at them both before placing two items on the desk in front of him. In front of Lucius, he placed an old looking diary, and in front of Bellatrix, a beautiful, and ancient looking cup.

“Is this the Cup of Helga Hufflepuff?” she breathed, unsure of whether she was truly seeing the ancient artifact in front of her. She could sense magic from it. Dark, powerful magic, drawing her close.

“Indeed it is,” Voldemort said with a smile. “These two objects in front of you will ensure my safety. I trust the two of you will guard them with your lives, and never let them fall into the wrong hands.

“I will guard it with my life,” she promised him. “I’ll place it in the Lestrange family vault. No one but my husband or I will ever be able to access it. And while he will not know the true power of it, he will not question me when I tell him it must remain there if he asks. It will be safe there.”

“No one can enter my house without my permission,” Lucius said, “The wards are too high. And even now, I am the only one who has access to this study. You are here because I allowed the wards to let you in due to the blood magic on them. It will be safe here.”

“Good,” Voldemort said, standing. “I trust the both of you. Do not let me down by allowing them to fall into the hands of our enemies. They would kill for these items. And if you do, you will be punished, thoroughly.”

She felt herself shiver, nodding in agreement. If she failed her lord, she would punish herself for such a thing

The cup would be safe with her. But it wouldn’t matter anyways. Because she refused to let anything come close to hurting the man before her.

Chapter Text

It was April by time Hermione realized that an important event due to happen in her brother’s fifth year of school never actually occurred. And that was an incident involving Sirius, Remus, and Severus Snape.

She didn’t have too many memories to fall back on in regard to what happened while James and the boys were in school and relied primarily on the accounts that had been given to her before they had left and gone back in time. But in the memories that she did possess, she knew that a terrible event had happened, something which had nearly broken apart her brother and his friends.

And that was the Werewolf Incident of 1976.

It had stemmed from years of hatred between the Marauders and Severus, years of pranks, and horrible fights between the two, causing distaste and absolute loathing towards one another. Anything to get the other party in trouble, anything which would make sure that they had the upper hand.

And the worst part was, that both parties believed that they were fully in the right, that the other were evil, and they were just doing what was right; what they had to do.

So much so that Severus knew that the boys had been up to something each month and had tried to follow them to figure out what it was. And so much so that Sirius wanted to punish him and had all but led Severus in the general direction of where they would be, so Severus could see what they were up to. He had known however, that Severus would see Remus as a wolf, and hoped that it would frighten him.

Honestly, if it weren’t for her brother in the old timeline, there was a serious chance that Remus could have hurt Severus or much worse, killed him.

She knew such a thing would never happen anymore. For one, Severus already knew about Remus’ affliction, and it didn’t bother him. Secondly, there wasn’t a deep distrust and detestation towards the other. Not when she had made sure that the two had reconciled the misunderstandings between the two of them.

She knew however, that it had done a lot more harm that simply furthering the rift between Severus and the Marauders. When Sirius had made the decision to tell Severus about Remus, he had not only betrayed the bonds the boys had but had betrayed Remus himself. He had not only put Severus in danger, but Remus. If anything had happened, anything at all, then Remus would have been expelled, and possibly thrown into Azkaban. His entire life would be over, and there would be nothing that anyone could have done to have stopped it.

The incident had caused the boys to stop talking for a few months, before reconciling before their OWLs in June had occurred. She knew it had been hard on them, from the way Sirius had talked about it before his death, she knew it was one of his biggest regrets in life, preceded only by allowing Peter to be the secret keeper.

She knew it also had damaged the relationship between Remus and Sirius forever. While they had become friends again, the trust between the two of them was shattered and it had broken whatever chance the two of them had from finding happiness to come to pass.

It hadn’t been obvious to her until a few months ago, that there was something between the two boys she considered to be like her brothers. A few glances when they were sure no one else was looking. The occasional brush of a few fingers. The small smiles they exchanged when they were sure no one else was looking.

And once she could see it, she wondered how it had been impossible to have missed before. How did she not see the two of them, caring deeply for one another before? Had she been blinded by the mission that had guided her for so long, that she hadn’t even been able to tell that there had been a development progressing right in front of her?

Or had it been that she didn’t think she should be looking for something. After all, Remus and Sirius had been friends when she knew their older selves, and Remus had married Tonks a few years into knowing him. She had never really considered what relationships the boys had had before while they were in school.

She knew they must have however. Sirius had been known for being a ladies’ man, flirting with which ever girl caught his fancy. But she knew he also flirted with blokes from time to time. She had seen him throw a wink in James’ direction playfully, but the two of them were brothers so she never thought anything of it. And she had applied that same logic to whenever she had seen him flirting with Remus.

Except that she had been wrong.

Remus and Sirius might not officially be in a relationship as of yet, but she could tell, just by sitting on the grounds of the school, and seeing the two of them together, smiling brightly as Sirius had his arm around Remus and Remus beamed brightly at him and at the world that the two of them were happy.

No werewolf incident meant that Sirius had never betrayed Remus, and Remus who had never been able to recover from that betrayal before, had no reason now not to love Sirius with every fiber of his being.

Because the Remus and Sirius of the past timeline were gone. The ones in front of her were brighter, filled with less anger, and more at peace with their natures.

She wondered if this time around would be different for the two boys. If they would have a chance at happiness together this time around, and what it would mean for Nymphadora Tonks as a result.

She supposed she would find out in time, however both boys were happy, and there was absolutely nothing wrong with that.

Hermione gleefully shoved the vial of the potion in her pocket, pleased that she had been able to get it done in time for the full moon. It had been a long month of brewing and testing and ensuring that the three of them had gotten the consistency right. After all, the last thing she needed was to accidently Remus, or Merlin forbid, make it worse for him during the full moon.

And three days before the full moon, they had gotten it working, and were 100% sure that it was safe. She had been so proud of them, and despite knowing if she had to, she probably could have figured out how to brew it herself, it was definitely helpful to have a potions prodigy and Lily who was extremely talented at the subject as well, help her.

She didn’t say anything the entire way down to the Whomping Willow, despite Draco having a pretty good idea of what was going on, and James and Sirius already more than aware that she was trying to brew the potion for him.

She knew she would have to be quick in giving Remus the potion; they only ever had a few moments before he turned into the wolf, and more often than not they were already in their Animagus form before approaching him, knowing it was safer. But this time they had tried to plan to go as early as they could without Madam Pomfrey seeing them, but still giving them more than enough time to give him the potion.

“What are you doing here?” Remus asked, concerned as he saw the rest of them enter the room. “Madam Pomfrey literally just left! What if she had seen you?”

“We needed to come a little earlier,” Hermione explained, “I have something for you that I wanted to give to you before you transformed.”

He looked at her, confused, as she pulled out the vial from her robes. “It’s the wolfsbane potions,” she said softly. “I brewed it with Severus’ and Lily’s help. We tested it too, and know it works. We wanted to make it for you so you would at least be able to have the choice of whether you wanted to be in control during the full moon or if you were fine with the way things were. We just wanted you to be able to have a choice instead of having on made for you.”

He looked speechless as he took the potion from her. “I can’t accept this. It must have been expensive for you to brew.  You didn’t have to do this for me. You don’t have to be doing any of this for me.”

“I wanted to,” she said softly, “We all wanted to, Remus. You’re our friend and we’d do anything to help you. Your happiness is worth far more that the cost of this potion. And if this helps you, then we want you to be able to have it. You deserve that much.”

He pulled her into his arms, and she held him tightly as he shook against her. “Thank you,” he said softly. He kissed her on the cheek then, and she smiled up at him, as she pulled away from him.

Her eyes caught Draco’s then and she could see him flare slightly but she shook her head at him, before taking his hand in hers.

Remus took the potion then, and she smiled as he gave her a grateful look. She could see him begin to turn, so she pulled away from Draco, knowing that even with the potion in his system, it was better to change anyways into their Animagus forms just in case. She looked up at Remus and she saw the wolf smile up at her then.

As James led them out of the tree, she felt herself soar, knowing that the potion had worked. That Remus would be in control this month. And when they ran with him, or in her case flew, she swore he looked lighter than she had ever seen him. He ran through the woods, splashed through old puddles, and jumped over fallen trees. She knew he was having the time of her life, and she wondered if maybe, just maybe, he would be able to slowly let go of the hatred he felt for the wolf. Because whether he liked it or not, it was still a part of him. It would always be a part of him. And at least if he came to peace with it, then he would be less filled with self-hatred.

The world still wouldn’t make things easy for him, and she would be damned if she let that stop her from making it better. She would push every legislation forward she could, and make sure that he never experienced the same injustices in this world that he did in the past. He would get to be happier. He would come to peace with his world and his reality, and she’d make damn sure of it.

The morning after, she headed up to her dorm room, exhausted and grateful more than anything that it was a weekend and that she didn’t have class in the morning. But before she could climb up the stairs and fall into bed, James pulled her aside.

“You did a nice thing,” he told her softly. “You don’t always see Remus the morning after full moons; he’s filled with pain, and with hatred, and so much anger. It takes him the better part of the day before he’ll even look at us. Even after we became animagi, he still had a hard time talking right away. But last night was different. I’ve never seen him so light and filled with happiness. That’s because of you, Hermione. You should be very proud of yourself, because I know that I am.”

She hugged her brother tightly, and he kissed her on the forehead. “My little sister is growing up so fast,” he said softly. “And more and more so each day, I am proud to be your older brother.”

“I love you, James,” she whispered.

“I love you too, Hermione,” he murmured. “Now go get some sleep. You deserve it.”

She nodded at him gratefully, as she treaded up the stairs, ready more than anything, just to get some sleep.

For the first time since he started school, or so he claimed, James Potter found himself without the company of either his friends or his sister.

It was rare that such a thing happened. For James was almost always with one of his friends, planning a prank, playing chess, lamenting over his love for Lily Evans, or just plain lazing around ad doing absolutely nothing.

But with Peter off on one of his individual quests of trying to find himself, and Remus and Sirius off pretending that they were simply studying or whatever excuse they had given him for the two of them wanting to spend time together, James Potter found himself with absolutely no one to spend the evening with. And it was a strange feeling, one which he had no idea what to do about.

“Where are your friends?” he heard a musical voice call out, and he looked up to see Lily hovering over him as he lay down in a saddened heap on the sofa of the common room. He quickly sat up, and Lily looked amused as she sat down beside him.

This was probably the first time she hadn’t looked at him like she was completely and utterly annoyed with him. He couldn’t blow it, not when she was talking to him willingly, and not just to ask him where his sister was, before sauntering off like a beautiful doe.

“Remus and Sirius are off probably snogging in the Astronomy tower,” James scoffed.

“Oh,” Lily said in surprise, “Are the two of them together then? I had no idea they swung that way.”

“Is that a problem?” he asked quickly, because while she may be the love of his life, he would defend his friends to death.

And while it may not be the biggest deal in the wizarding world to fancy one’s own gender, given blood adoption rituals that could be used to gain legitimate heirs, he knew that muggleborns often had difficulties accepting the practise due to how muggle society worked.

“Of course not,” she scoffed. “They’re still the same people I befriended. If I wouldn’t disown Remus for his furry little problem, then why would this be enough to dissuade me? They’re both lovely people, when they aren’t running around with you wreaking havoc with your pranks.”

He didn’t say anything, looking at her, as he tried to gage her honest reaction.

“I suppose it makes sense,” she said after a moment. “They balance each other well. Remus is too serious, and Sirius, well, he could use Remus to keep him grounded when he gets too eccentric.”

“Not that either of them have bothered telling me,” he sighed. “They probably think it’s far too new to bother sharing. I just wish they would tell me already. I love them both like brothers; I want them to know that I love and support them. And that it doesn’t change a thing.”

“Just give them time,” she said with a smile, “Those boys love you too; it’s as clear as day to anyone who even spends a minute around you all. I doubt they’ll be able to keep it a secret for long.”

“I hope you’re right,” he said, smiling at the girl who he had loved for the better part of the last couple of years.

“How about your sister?” Lily asked. “She’s not studying with us tonight, and she’s often with you when she’s not with us.”

“Off with Draco studying,” he said, sounding frustrated at the last word.

Lily’s eyebrows raised at his tone, and he knew why. He wasn’t blinded by the fact that he loved his sister, nor was he oblivious to the fact that the entire school knew that he would do anything for Hermione. But the two of them rarely fought ever, so for him to be annoyed was enough for Lily Evans to be shocked.

“You know the two of them are friends, right?” Lily asked. “It is perfectly natural that they’d want to spend time together from time to time.”

“We both know that those two have feelings for each other,” he sighed, “It’s only a matter of time before they decide to act on their feelings and get together.”

“Does that bother you?” she asked, her shoulder brushing against his. “The two of them make each other happy. I’m pretty sure she became friends with Draco even before she did with any of the rest of us. She’s always been drawn to him. And you know better than the rest of us that she often looks like she’s carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. Would it be so wrong for her to find happiness with him?”

He sat in silence for a few moments, “He’s a good kid,” James admitted. “Despite what worries I had about him years ago, I know he’s good for her. I know she keeps things from me sometimes, things that only the two of them know, and that she won’t tell me, or can’t tell me, I don’t know. But she has someone she can talk to, and that makes me happy.

“But?” Lily prodded.

“She’s my little sister,” he sighed again. “I want her to be happy, but that doesn’t make it any easier on me. I want to keep her safe, to make sure no one can ever hurt her. And I want to protect her, even if she doesn’t need it. She’s my little sister; I’ve been watching over Hermione her entire life. It’s hard to see her grow up.”

Lily smiled at him, “You’re a good brother,” she said softly. “Hermione’s lucky to have you.”

“And I am to have her,” he smiled.

“So tell me about the newest prank you’re planning,” Lily said, and when James gave her a look of false confusion she rolled her eyes. “Please, you’re hardly as secretive as you think you are.”

He laughed; perhaps it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to confide in her about the prank they were planning for the end of the week.

Draco was home for the Easter holidays when the discussion he was sure was going to happen for months finally did.

It started when Arcturus called for a family meeting the day before he was supposed to return to school, wanting to discuss a pressing matter with the family, without giving them any indication of what it was that he wanted to discuss.

And as it turned out, the meeting was just for the immediate members of the Black family, meaning none of his sister’s husbands were allowed at the meeting. He supposed it was a double standard, for if any of them took wives, then the women would be allowed into the meeting, however because each of the men had their own house which they belonged to, they were not allowed to make decisions alongside the rest of them.

Because while it was still Arcturus that would make whatever decision, the rest of them were all allowed to give their perspectives.

“Do you know what this is about?” Andromeda whispered to him as he sat down beside his sister at the table. Narcissa was on the other side of him, while Regulus, Sirius, and Bella sat across from them.

He shook his head, not wanting to give away his suspicions on what he was sure the meeting would be about.

“I have gathered you here today because we need to discuss a pressing matter,” Arcturus said, with a serious look on his face. “All of you have heard of the attacks that have happened on our world. Attacks which have left hundreds injured, and many dead at the hands of a man who wishes to bring purity to our world.”

Draco sat up straighter, wanting to know what it was that his grandfather would have to say on the matter.

“I have recently been approached by some members of the Dark faction of Wizengamot who wish for the Blacks to pledge our loyalty to this Lord Voldemort, heir of Slytherin,” Arcturus said, and the room immediately filled with tension. He could see Sirius ready to jump in and protest, however it was Bellatrix who got to it first.

“We must,” She said, sounding eager. Draco looked at his sister’s arm, which was conveniently covered by her robes. But despite that, he didn’t need to see her forearm to know what marred her skin. “My husband and his brother have already pled their allegiance to him. And I wouldn’t be surprised if Lucius Malfoy has done the same. Our alliances all believe in what he has to offer. We must pledge our allegiance to him and offer him everything that we can.”

“Does anyone have any other opinions?” Arcturus asked, and he could see Walburga glaring at Sirius, demanding he didn’t speak up and saw what they all knew he would.

“I disagree with my sister,” Draco said, as Druella gave him a look that all but demanded he did not speak. And why wouldn’t she? He knew that his parents and Sirius parents were all for supporting the man, which was the main reason Sirius was thrown out of the family and Regulus forced into joining.

Arcturus looked at him, interestedly, as if he had been waiting for Draco to have an objection. Taking note of the fact that his cousins and grandfather were looking at him, wanting him to continue, so he did.

“I do not believe it would be the best move for our family,” Draco said. “He claims to be the heir of Slytherin. Yet his family line has died out, meaning he has no one else to challenge him for the title of Lord Slytherin. So why has he not claimed it? I’ve been curious about that for many months and researched the Slytherin family line. It was the Gaunts who claimed last to have the blood of Slytherin run through them. And yet none of them claimed the title themselves.”

“I am aware,” Arcturus nodded, “There were rumours that magic had deemed them unworthy of the title.”

“Marvolo Gaunt is rumoured to have died alone, while Morfin died in prison for the murder of a muggle family,” Draco said, remembering what Harry had told him and Hermione both. “But there is no clear knowledge of what happened to Merope Gaunt, other than the rumour that she ran off with none other than the same son of the muggle whose death Morfin would later end up charged with. That is, the Riddle family.”

Orion Black looked interested at that, “There was a Tom Riddle at school while I was there,” he noted. “A half-blood wizard, who despite that, was the most brilliant in the entire school. Head Boy too in his final year. He was terrifying, but brilliant.”

Bellatrix looked like she did not like the dots that Draco had caused to be connected.

“Does it matter what this Tom Riddle’s blood status was?” she said dismissively. “Lord Voldemort is brilliant. He believes in removing the impurities in our world. The ones that ruin families and leave them as less than pure. He wants to save us.”

Arcturus laughed at that, “He wants to wipe out magic,” he said, and raised his hand when Bellatrix tried to argue. “Magic does not discriminate based on who one’s parents are, or their blood. Andromeda’s own husband was able to reclaim his magic and be connected to his roots. Every individual with magic deserves their magic. This Voldemort does not understand magic fully if he discriminates as such. The Blacks will not stand with him.”

Orion looked to argue, and Arcturus raised his hand, “We will not join Dumbledore either. Salazar knows that fool will ruin us all. No, we will fight for our own side; a grey side.”

“There are many that would support that,” Regulus said for the first time since the meeting had started, and he could see Sirius looking interested at that. “I have had many younger years approach me, saying they do not wish to be on either extreme. If their parents stand with you, then we have a chance of avoiding a war.”

Arcturus looked proud of him then, “I agree,” he said, sounding fond of his youngest grandchild.

“We have to stand with him!” Bellatrix said furiously. “How can we not? Toujours Pur! It is what we believe in!”

“We believe in the purity of magic, not blood,” Sirius corrected her.

“We will not stand with him, and that is final,” Arcturus said firmly. “He will bring the ruination of our world, and that is unacceptable.”

Bellatrix stood in anger, and marched out, while Draco sat back in his chair, trying to take in all that had happened. Perhaps there would be hope for the Black family after all.

Chapter Text

It was June before James Potter finally cornered Hermione on her way back to her dorms. And in all honesty, it was something she never planned on having to talk to her brother about.

It had been a relatively busy month, what with her older friends beginning their OWLs and studying for it constantly. Even James and Sirius, who she was certain never opened a book in their life, managed to crack down and get in some studying. At least more studying than she ever expected that they would do.

“I need to talk to you, Hermione,” James said, with a sense of urgency; enough so that she was left panicking, wondering what it was that James possibly had to say that was so important. “Not here,” he said, looking around, as he dragged her toward an empty classroom.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, fearing the worst. Despite the rising tensions in the wizarding world, there hadn’t been anything that happened in the past few days. Had something happened to her parents? Was that what James had pulled her aside to talk about? “Has something happened to Mum and Dad?”

James shook his head quickly, “It’s nothing like that Hermione. I just wanted to talk to you.”

“About what?” she said, fear leaving her.

He slumped slightly. “I don’t know how to say this,” he said softly, running his fingers through his hair. “This isn’t easy for me.”

“What is it,” she pushed.

“Do you have feelings for Draco?” he asked after a moment.

“What?” she spluttered out, never expecting her brother to have asked her that. “Why would you ask me that?”

“Do you?” He pushed again.

“Of course not,” she scoffed, trying to push aside the panic that was filling her chest. If her brother, who despite being overprotective of her, could be rather oblivious to matters of the heart, had noticed, then who else had? And more importantly, had Draco noticed?

“You do,” he said, without taking his eyes off of her. “You know, this is the second time in our lives that you’ve ever lied to me?”

She looked down, not wanting to meet her brother’s eyes.

“I understood the first time. Merlin knows Sirius and I have been in more than enough trouble in our life time, and if you couldn’t talk about it, then I’m sure you had an important reason for it.” James said softly. “But why are you denying the truth about this?”

“Because I can’t have feelings for him!” she said suddenly. “You don’t understand, Jamie. It would ruin everything if something went wrong. And there’s more important things at stake than my feelings for him. Like our-” she hesitated, “our friendship. It’s too important to risk over feelings he probably doesn’t even reciprocate.”

“You and I both know that even if something went wrong, Draco would still be there for you. Nothing could stop that boy from being in your life. Not even if you told him you cared for him,” James said softly, tilting her head up.

She didn’t say anything at that, and how could she? She loved her brother, but she couldn’t tell him the truth. She hadn’t ruled out telling her family one day; they did deserve to know, and she trusted them more than anything. But she couldn’t tell them; not yet. And until she could, how could her brother even possibly begin to understand what it was that she was feeling, or the amount of conflict running through her head on a constant basis? How could he understand that it was more complicated than her feelings for him? How could she make him understand how much was at stake without telling him the truth?

She knew it was unfair to him; he needed to know, and until he did, he wouldn’t ever truly understand how she felt on a constant basis. He wouldn’t understand the fear coursing through her at any given basis. How she tried so hard to be Peter’s friend, yet she still saw her brother’s murderer when she looked at him. How she couldn’t even be in the same room as Bellatrix without having a panic attack. How she had no idea where half the remaining horcruxes were, no did she have any idea how to even destroy them if she had them. How she knew that this time around, it would be up to her and Draco to fight Voldemort in the end, and she was so afraid of what would happen when that day came. And if they failed, the future they tried so hard to prevent would come to pass anyways, regardless.

“He cares about you too, Hermione,” James said, mistaking her silence for mere fear about her feelings for Draco.

But despite her fear about the future, she knew he did have a point about her fear for telling him the truth. Because despite living until her twenties and then living an additional few years in this time, she still had the mind of a teenager. All those stupid insecurities about romance and her feelings plagued her, and she was terrified that if she told him she cared for him and he didn’t return her feelings, she’d be left heartbroken.

“I don’t like it,” James said after a moment. “I don’t like thinking about you in a relationship, because you’re my baby sister. I remember holding your hand when we went to that muggle fair when you were four. I remember teaching you how to fly and you holding me tightly the entire time. I remember reading to you when you were too young to read. I don’t want to think of you in a relationship because it means you’re growing up. But I love you, and I know that you have feelings for Draco Black, even if you don’t know how to admit it to yourself. And I know that beyond anything, he has feelings for you too. The two of you have always been close, closer than you’ve been with the rest of your friends. I’m not surprised you have feelings for him. I want you to be happy, Hermione. And he makes you happy.”

“I just wish it was that simple,” she sighed. “I wish it was only about my feelings for him, and then maybe I could do something about it. But it’s so much more than that.”

He pulled her into a hug, and she held him tightly, “It’ll be okay,” he whispered, “And I’ll be here for you through it all. Whatever happens, good or bad, I’ll be there to support you.”

She held on tightly to her older brother, taking comfort in his embrace and his words.

She may have feelings for Draco Malfoy. But that very much did not mean that she had to do anything about it.

Whatever feelings Severus Snape might have held for Lily had long since faded from when he were younger.

It was hard not for him to confuse the love he felt for her. How could he not, when he didn’t love very many people in his life until that point? His father was hard to love; always drunk and angry, and far too quick to take out his anger on anyone who disappointed him. And Severus disappointed him on a constant basis as a child, half the time simply for existing.

He loved his mother in a way. She wasn’t outwardly abusive. She never said a negative word to him, nor did she ever hurt him the same way his father was so quick to do. But she never stopped it either. She never made sure he was alright after one of his father’s drunken episodes, nor did she defend him during one. She never checked to see if his wounds were healing correctly or try and heal him using magic.

When she found out he got his Hogwarts letter, she had a look of disappointment on her face; she had wanted him to be normal, and he had proved to be anything but once more.

But then had come along Lily Evans. She had been so pure, so filled with love. And he loved her more than anything. She never had judged him for being different; instead she had been astounded, wanting to learn everything he knew about magic.

He knew he probably was slightly at fault for Petunia Evan’s distaste for her sister. But Petunia already had the look of jealousy in her eye when he met her. He knew it only would have been a matter of time before her jealousy trumped her love for her sister.

Lily was heartbroken by it, and how could she not be?

He loved Lily Evans, and he had been heartbroken for her, never wanting her to know the same pain he knew from having family despise him. He wanted her life to be happy and to continue to be pure.

It had been easy for him to think he was in love with her; that is until he met Hermione Potter and grew to love her in the same way. He loved them both; wanting to keep them safe and free of harm. Hermione Potter who he had been so quick to judge for her brother’s misdeeds. Hermione Potter who didn’t care that he was a Slytherin or a half-blood. Hermione Potter who wormed her way into his heart despite it all.

He loved them both, and for the first time, he realized it wasn’t that he was in love with either of them, but that he loved them wholeheartedly. That they were his family long before he had become Severus Prince and met his grandparents.

And he had grown to care for others too in the past few years. The younger Black cousins, who despite their pureblood status, looked up to him and asked him for help without feeling the need to boast about how much purer they were than him, as some of the others often took to doing. Lupin, who despite having a horrid condition, never lashed out on others or used it as an excuse for falling behind a few days a month. Even Potter and Black, the elders, who he had hated for his first year, had become something of acquaintances to him. There was still teasing, and Merlin knew he was aware that it would never stop. But the two teased everyone, especially Hermione Potter and Draco Black. It had been their way of letting them know they cared.

But Peter Pettigrew had always struck him as a strange addition to the group. He wasn’t studious like Lupin or Hermione. Nor was he athletic like Black and Potter. He wasn’t particularly exceptional at any one thing, and yet no one seemed to care how out of place he was at times with the rest of them. He knew that Hermione offered to tutor him more than once, and every now and then he took her up on it. And he knew that James and Sirius never excluded him from their games of quidditch when they played outside of school. Nor was he ever excluded from pranks, despite not contributing much to them intellectually as the other boys all did. He was just there.

He didn’t miss the flashes of disappointment on the boy’s face when Remus left him to go study with Hermione, Severus and Lily. Or when Sirius and James got into detention without him for something they didn’t include him in. Or when teachers always seemed to give him pitying looks when they handed back the boy’s assignments.

He was an outsider, something Severus was all too familiar with. And he could see the anger that flashed on the boy’s face from time to time, more so as the years drew on. He could tell that it was really only a matter of time before the boy lashed out. That it was only really a matter of time before he either found his own niche, or he lashed out on his friends for being ‘lesser’.

But he had been surprised still when Peter did.

Hermione smiled to herself as she saw her brother come out of the Great Hall, having finished his OWL exam in Defense Against the Dark Arts. She knew he hadn’t been worried about it; why would he be when it was one of the subjects that came naturally to him? He was so like Harry in that sense, that it made her heart burst just thinking about her friend and how he would have loved to have known even that small comparison to his father.

She would tell him one day; of all the ways he was similar to his parents. Even if it didn’t make the same impact on him, she would make sure he knew every day just how loved he was.

“What did you think of question ten, Moony?” she heard Sirius ask as her brother greeted her with a bright smile. She could see Lily and Severus walking behind the two of them, going over their answers for the test, trying to make sure they had both come up with the same thing.

She would have loved to have someone to do that with back in her time.

“Loved it,” Remus said, slightly briskly. “‘Give five signs that identify the werewolf.’ Excellent question.”

“D’you think you managed to get all the signs?” James teased him and she laughed at that.

“Think I did,” Remus said, sounding serious. “One: He’s sitting on my chair. Two: He’s wearing my clothes. Three: his name is Remus Lupin.”

Her eyes crinkled at that, as the boys laughed in response. Even Lily gave them a small smile as she looked up from her comparison of answers with Severus.

It was Peter who did not laugh at that, as he started stating the signs he had written on the test. And James had been confused to say in the least at that, asking how he didn’t know. And he did have a fair point, given their extracurricular activities.

“Keep your voice down!” Remus implored, as he looked around to see if anyone had heard. But as they made their way out onto the grounds, she could tell that there weren’t too many people who cared.

She spotted Draco and Regulus sitting over at the lake, and they headed over as Draco waved to her, with Peter trailing behind them all.

As she sat down, James pulled out a snitch from his pocket and began playing with it, while Remus pulled out a book, and she pulled out her own assignment to work on it with Draco and Regulus.

“Where did you get that?” she asked her brother suspiciously.

“Borrowed it?” he asked, looking slightly sheepish. But the grin he exchanged with Sirius alerted her otherwise.

“Right,” she rolled her eyes. She didn’t watch as he released it into the air, and let it fly around, always catching it before it got too far for him to do so. Despite his position of Chaser, she knew that he always did have a small fascination with the snitch in the game.

She tried not to grimace as Peter laughed and cheered loudly each time James caught the Snitch. And while she knew her brother wasn’t doing it to get the other boy’s awe, she could tell he wasn’t about to discourage him from it any time soon.

“Put it away,” Lily said, rolling her eyes at the boy, as she looked over her OWL paper with Severus. “You’re distracting Potter.”

“Are you too distracted by my good looks to study?” James teased, and Lily flushed at that.

“Of course not! I’m just trying to get some work done!” she said quickly. “We have more examinations soon! I can’t afford to be distracted.”

“Right,” James said in a mock serious tone.

“Give it a rest, Pettigrew,” one of the Ravenclaws sitting nearby said in an annoyed tone. “You’re annoying the rest of us.”

“Let him be,” Sirius rolled his eyes. “He’s having fun. Tone it down a bit Pete,” Sirius said in direction at Peter.

The boy blushed at that, and she knew he was embarrassed of being called out.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, as he clamped his hands in his lap.

“I don’t get why they let you hang out with them,” one of the Ravenclaws said in a mocking tone as they came over to them. “You’re clearly a bother to them; just as you are to the rest of us; what with the way you clamper behind them like an annoying dog.”

“Hey!” James said, standing up, annoyed with what they were saying. “Don’t speak to him like that.”

“Or what?” the Ravenclaw, Davey Gudgeon, taunted. “You’ll prank us?”

“Just walk away,” Remus said, standing then. “We all have better things to be doing than this.”

“I don’t think so,” the Ravenclaw laughed, and those behind him seem to be watching with anticipation, laughing to themselves. “I’m having fun.”

Peter, who had been scrambling to stand up at that moment, looking angry and upset, was quickly knocked off his feet.

“Impedimenta,” Gudgeon said, pointing his wand at Peter.

“Look at him, scampering to stand back up. He can barely hold his own without the rest of you helping him every step of the way. Merlin knows he wouldn’t even be passing any of his classes if it weren’t for the rest of you helping him every sad step of the way. He probably would accidently hex himself. I’m surprised he hasn’t lost any body parts or been held back by a few years,” Gudgeon said with a laugh to his friends.

“Leave him ALONE,” Lily said, furiously standing to defend Peter, trying to help him back up to his feet.

“I think I’m having fun,” Gudgeon said with a smirk. “A bit of stress relief from all the OWLs we’ve been forced to take. Levicorpus.”

Peter began to hang from the air, dangling in the air, as fat legs showed out from under his robes and his underwear shown out to everyone before them

“Stupefy!” James shouted then, knocking the boy off his feet, causing Peter to fall to the ground.

“LEAVE HIM ALONE,” Lily yelled, as she tried to help Peter back up to his feet.

Sirius and Remus had their wands trained on Gudgeon, as Hermione kept her hand on hers, ready to draw it if it a full-on fight started.

“You’re lucky you have to many people here to protect you,” Gudgeon blinked, clearly no longer liking his odds.

“I don’t need help from mudbloods and blood traitors like them,” Peter spat out, clearly frustrated at the turn of events, and humiliated from the abuse he had suffered.

And in that moment, everything went silent. James, Remus and Sirius looked stunned, Lily like she had been slapped in the face. Even Hermione didn’t know what to say.

“Peter,” James said in a strained voice. “Say you didn’t mean it.”

“No,” Peter said, holding his face up, despite the pain he had suffered. “I don’t want the help of people like you. Not when there are others who think I’m worthy the way I am. Why would I want to be friends with people who think of me as nothing more than a dog who follows them around? Gudgeon was right.”

“We’re your friends,” Sirius said, sounding shocked at Peter’s words.

“Not anymore you’re not,” Peter said, as he turned at walked away from them all.

And just like that, Hermione felt as if she had failed to truly save Peter Pettigrew from his fate.

Peter Pettigrew was fuming.

It had been hours since he had allowed his façade to fade and he had lashed out against the people he had considered friends for years.

He had lashed out and yelled at the people who thought they were protecting him, but were suffocating him.

Because they were; he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t even get a word in without the rest of them being so quick to jump to his helpless defense. He knew he was weak; he knew that he was passing school by the skin of his teeth. He knew that he could study for days on end and never manage to get more than a Acceptabe if he was lucky.

He knew he would never be athletic either; the Gryffindor Quidditch team would never have a spot for him.

Nor would he be able to actually plan out a prank from top to bottom.

Whether he liked it or not, he didn’t fit in with James, Sirius, or Remus. And while they never went out of their way to make him feel bad about it, they all knew that Peter wasn’t as good at anything as they were. Except maybe chess. And that was hardly anything to brag about.

But Nott and Avery had always been there for him. They had never made him feel like he was lesser like the boys did. He never felt inferior when he hung out with them. They included him, showed him that he was special. That he could achieve great things.

They would be there for him today too, through his worst day in his life. They had offered sympathetic glances to him already, and he knew he could count on them.

It wasn’t as if he could go back to his dorm tonight. How could he after the day he just had? He didn’t want to see any of the boys again. He didn’t want to deal with the look of confirmation from Hermione Potter that she had constantly been right in her judgement of him. He didn’t want to have the boys try and talk to him to see what it was that was going on with him. They wouldn’t take the hint; that he was so much more than what they thought he was and that others finally saw it even if they couldn’t.

“You wanted to see us?” Avery said, as he and Nott slinked out of the Slytherin dungeons to meet him.

“I need a place to sleep tonight,” Peter said softly, “I can’t go back. No one in the tower will even look at me, and I can’t face the boys after everything that just happened. Please, just let me sleep here until the term is over. I’ll figure out something for next year over the summer.”

“Of course,” Nott said quickly as he and Avery exchanged a glance. “It couldn’t have been easy to confront them today and tell them how you really felt. But it was unfair that you had to hide it all. They’re a disgrace to our world, polluting it with their love for muggles, then they act as if we are the enemy for trying to preserve our heritage. Plus Gryffindors have a way of being especially righteous about the whole thing. It’s disgusting really.”

Avery nodded, “Stay for as long as you need, Mate. Maybe we can even talk to our parents and see about getting you transferred into a different dorm for next year. Merlin knows that it would be torture to spend two more years with that lot.”

“Thank you,” Peter said gratefully, as the boys moved to open the passage to the Slytherin common room.

He hesitated for a moment, knowing there was more he had to tell them.

“What is it, Peter?” Nott asked, sounding concerned.

“There’s something you need to know,” Peter said, still a little bit unsure of what he was about to do. “About Remus Lupin.”

“Which is?” Avery prodded, and Peter fidgeted.

This was it. There would be no going back once he told them the truth. The boys would never forgive him.

“He’s-” Peter started, but the words didn’t come out as he felt a sharp pain.

His eyes widened in shock as the remembered the stupid bond he had made with the boys after they had all learned the truth about Remus, wanting to reassure him that they would never be able spill his secret.

“You can’t tell us,” Nott realized then.

“He’s hiding something,” Peter gasped, trying to get out as much as he could, before feeling himself grow weak.

“We’ll figure it out,” Avery promised. “But for now, let’s go to bed. Whatever it is can wait.”

Peter nodded as he followed the boys up to their dorm. Things for him were about to get a lot harder, but at least he was with people who truly cared for him.

Chapter Text

When Sirius woke up that morning, he didn’t expect things to get so out of control. Why would he when it was just another morning that summer when things didn’t seem to be going his way?

It had been the same for him with his family ever since he had started at Hogwarts and had been no longer able to hide his true feelings on certain matters, such as blood purity and how he did not believe in it whatsoever.

In all honestly, it had surprised him when his cousin confronted him all those years ago, insisting that he loved him regardless of which house he was sorted in. And that Draco did not feel the same way as either of their parents felt about him. And later on, he was surprised to find that his brother felt the exact same way. That neither of them hated him because he did not feel the same way as his family did in regard to who deserved to be in the wizarding world and who didn’t.

It had been so simple to his younger self; he was the lone wolf in fighting the crusade his family raged against those they deemed to be lesser than themselves. Those like Remus, who they believed people like him were half-breeds, even if they didn’t know about his condition. Or people like Lily Evans who was the smartest witch in their year but a muggleborn despite that. James, who the others in Slytherin were so quick to classify as a blood-traitor.

He hadn’t counted on having his younger brother and cousin on his side. He hadn’t expected Andromeda being able to remain in the family despite her choice of a husband. He hadn’t expected their grandfather to be on their side over his parents or aunt and uncle. All of a sudden, he hadn’t felt so alone, and believed that maybe, just maybe, he would get to be the kind of head of the house of Black that he could truly believe in. One which shifted their family’s stance on certain matters and one that fought for the good of their family over anything else.

He had forgotten that his parents would be a lot harder to convince to come around. That over anything and anyone else, they would pose the largest hardship in Sirius being able to be the kind of man he wanted to be.

He was reminded of it so rudely when his mother threw down a letter in front of him, perhaps from one of the many society wives she kept in contact with.

“Why am I receiving a letter from Lady Nott that you have so rudely cast aside one of your friends?” his mother said, in a deceptively calm voice. His mother, who always was the first to yell or lash out against him, was calm. And he knew whatever she was about to say could not be good. “A friend who has stood by your side for years, simply because he believes in the old ways. Because he believes that we are better than the rest of the scum you associate with. She says her poor son has had to console your friend since the end of school.”

“He said unforgiveable things,” Sirius said, jaw clenching at the thought of Peter, lashing out on all of them, and the hateful things he had said that they never had seen coming.

“He was wise enough to realize that he is above the rest of his lot. Something which you have not been able to do as of yet,” his mother hissed. “It would you do good to take a leaf from his book. Leave your blood-traitors and mudbloods behind. You are to be the head of this house, Sirius. How can you be expected to lead us when you do not even properly convey our values? Regulus would make a far better Head than you would! Draco would make a far better Head of this house. Instead we get you,” she spat at him.

“And I will lead this family in a direction that will lead to our betterment,” he said, standing up against his mother.

“How dare you speak back at me?” she shrieked at him as she drew her wand at him. “You dare tell me that you know better for our house than I? That you would be better suited to lead the house than your brother or cousin? You would bring us to ruination! You would destroy us! You have no place in our family. No place now, or ever! And you best remember that! Crucio!”

He braced himself as she shot the spell at him, and he immediately fell to the ground in pain. But he would not give her the benefit of screaming. He knew better that she would only take satisfaction from it. So he remained silent.

“You will take the Dark Mark,” Walburga spat at him, “Just as the rest of the Slytherins have done. Just as your former friend will do. It is time that you stop acting selfishly and think of this family for once! I don’t care what your grandfather had to say on the matter, it will be the only thing that saves us when all of this goes to hell. You will take that mark and for once in your life do something that will lead towards the betterment of our family!”

“Never!” he hissed, and he felt another shot of pain shoot through him. “I will not take the mark. I will not go against Grandfather, nor will I watch as innocent lives are slaughtered for a cause I do not believe in, nor do I support. It will only lead to the worsening of our world. It will lead to death and destruction. I will not take it.”

“You can and you will!” Walburga said once more, as he felt more pain in his body. “I will arrange it with your cousin for you to meet the Dark Lord and swear our family’s loyalty. You will beg him, a much greater man than yourself, for a chance to serve him. For a chance to make our world great.”

“No!” he said, trying to stand back, only to be knocked right down to his feet once more as his mother looked on at him with a murderous expression.

“I wish I never had you!” she yelled. “Draco would make a much better heir to this house. Regulus would make a much better head of this house. Instead, all I get is you, running around and making a mockery of our name and our family. All I get is shame in you.

“What are you doing?” he heard his younger brother gasp, as Regulus ran into the room, having heard all the yelling. Sirius he felt himself be hit for the third or fourth time with the spell. “Stop! You’re going to kill him, Mother!”

“Good,” she spat. “Then perhaps we can have an heir to this house that is actually worthy, instead of this disgrace.”

“You cannot kill him!” Regulus argued back, as he ran to the fireplace. He picked up a handful of dust. “Black Castle!”

A small part of him was aware of where his brother must have been going with his actions, but could not comprehend it in the moment.

He felt himself slipping out of consciousness, but the next thing he knew his grandfather was standing in their house, while Regulus tried to help him sit up.

“You dare hurt my grandson? The heir to our house?” Arcturus Black seethed as he pointed his wand at his daughter-in-law.

“He is a disgrace to our entire family,” she spat in Sirius’ direction. “He has no place in our family. Not now, or ever. I wanted him gone.”

“It is not your right to decide such a thing,” his grandfather thundered. “I am still the Head of this House. I am Lord Black. The decision is something which still lays solely with me. It is not up to you to kill the heir to our house, your own son.”

“How can you allow him to be when he will ruin everything?” Walburga yelled. “We should have taken the mark as the other families are doing. Bellatrix was right, he would bring us honour if we fought by his side. For the purity of our world. Instead you are letting us be left behind. For our family to not be a part of the future. For our family to lost. Sirius should be begging to take the mark. Regulus should be gifted with that honour. Instead they are prevented from doing so.”

“He will lead us to a path of death,” Arcturus said firmly. “Do not think that I made the decision lightly. I knew exactly what it would mean for our house to not do so. I knew that it would mean our survival not to. Do not question me, Walburga.”

“I do not want him to rule,” Walburga spat, raising her wand back up at Sirius, “He is a disgrace and I should have killed him years ago. I will not fail this time.”

Regulus pushed Sirius behind him, and he felt fear fill his entire body. His mother would never kill Regulus, her perfect son. But she had also never come this far in her punishments of him.

“You will not be given another chance to do so,” Arcturus said firmly. “Sirius is the heir to this house and I will not name another. If you kill him then I will let the Black family line die with him.”

Sirius was sure his grandfather was bluffing, but he did not falter in his gaze at his daughter-in-law.

“Fine,” Walburga seethed. “I will not kill him. Sirius, return to your room. Do not leave until I decide you can.”

“Do you honestly think I would allow him to live here after what I have just witnessed?” Arcturus asked him incredulously. “Sirius, Regulus, pack your bags. You will not remain in this house any longer. I cannot be certain you will remain unharmed if you remain here.”

Sirius shot a look at his younger brother, knowing his grandfather was right. The moment Arcturus would leave, his mother would go back to torturing him, not quite killing him, but coming as close as. And as long as she followed the orders not to kill him, she would not be disobeying the head of the house. Whatever instruction Arcturus would give her, she would find a way around it.

So he stood up and packed his trunk with things he would need or anything he wanted to bring. For he had a feeling he wouldn’t be returning to Grimmauld place any time soon.

He found himself in his grandfather’s study with Regulus a little over an hour later, his grandfather looking exhausted over the events of the past few hours.

“I wish to apologise to you both,” Arcturus said softly. “I had no idea that she ever would have done such a thing to either of you. If I had, I never would have allowed either of you to remain in that house.”

“You didn’t know,” Sirius said stiffly, unsure of what else to say to his grandfather who had rescued him from an abusive mother.

“What happens to us now?” Regulus asked in a worried voice. “Where will we stay?”

“There are a few options for that,” Arcturus said with a nod. “You are more than welcome to spend your summers or holidays with me. However I am aware that may sound dreary. It has been a while since anyone other than myself have lived here since the death of your grandmother. If you wish I may speak to my sister about letting you stay with her. She is still a Black despite her marriage and can take legal guardianship of you both until you come of age.”

“Do you mean?” Sirius breathed, as he heard where his grandfather was going with the question.

“How would you like to live with the Potters?” Arcturus asked.

Hermione knew in her last life that Sirius Black had run away from home when he was sixteen due to the fact that his mother had tried to kill him one night for not becoming a Death Eater.

However that had been her old life. In this one, Arcturus, according to Draco had all but insisted that their family had nothing to do with Voldemort. It had been surprising to her, but according to Draco, even without his own persuasions, it seemed as if his granduncle did not seem eager to take the mark and bow down to the Dark Lord.

So when Arcturus had shown up with a grim expression on his face, and Sirius and Regulus Black tailing behind him, it hadn’t taken her long to have figured out what happened.

“Arcturus,” her mother said with a gasp, looking at Sirius who had so clearly been tortured. “What happened?”

“His mother,” Arcturus said tightly. “Can I talk to you and Fleamont, Euphemia? There are some things we need to discuss.”

“Of course!” Euphemia said swiftly, as she ushered the children inside. “Hermione, James, please see to it that the boys are taken care of, won’t you?”

She nodded at her mother as the adults quickly left the room to head to go to her father’s study.

“What happened?” James asked, looking at Sirius, a look of anger crossing his face.

“My mother,” Sirius said tightly, not wanting to elaborate. “Grandfather is asking if Regulus and I may stay here for the time being.”

“Of course,” Hermione said softly, “This is your home as much as it is ours. We’re family.”

Regulus smiled softly at her, “Thank you, Hermione.”

She pulled Sirius tightly into a hug, and he stiffened against her before relaxing slightly. “I’m sorry,” she murmured to him.

“You don’t deserve what she did to you,” James said, placing a hand on his friend’s back.

Her mother and father had erupted from the study moments later, her mother pulling both Blacks into a tight hug, and her father looking furious at Walburga’s actions, before they confirmed the boys would be staying with them for as long as they liked.

That had been two weeks ago. And since that time Draco had chosen to join them, under the guise of wanting to show familial support, but really because he had been worried about Sirius, who had refused to speak about what had been done to him exactly.

She knew it had been rough on all the boys. Regulus who had confided in her later that he had been so sure that his mother would kill his brother. He had been terrified in that moment, knowing that if he chose not to act it could have been the end of his life. And he, who never disobeyed his mother, had done so and as such would never be able to return home.

She knew that he didn’t want to regardless, that he couldn’t go back to a mother that would be so quick to murder her own child for disobedience. But it still had hurt him to know that things had escalated the way that they had. All because of Peter; the boy who her brother refused to even talk about, and Sirius couldn’t even stand to look at old pictures of. The boy who was used as a match in the argument against his mother, despite them all knowing that it would have been something or the other that set her off. The boy who had broken her brothers’ hearts.

She had tried, and she had failed. Peter hadn’t even tried to hide his true allegiances this time around. He hadn’t even tried to pretend that he was their friend while going behind their backs.

The days past, and slowly Sirius came more into himself, hiding himself less and less, and slowly gaining the same composure he once held.

Lily and Severus had come over for August, as they did in years past, and she found herself in Lily’s company one day while the boys were off playing Quidditch, while Severus had some Prince family matters to attend to. She had been proud of him, for taking it all in stride and rising up to every challenge that came his way. He didn’t live with his parents any more, and she knew that he had begged his mother to come with him but she had refused. So Severus put his own life and happiness first for once.

“I did it,” Lily said softly to her, as they sat on the bench in the garden, surrounded by flowers her mother had loved. She had spent so many hours there, reading books, while she were younger, and it was one of the places she truly felt at peace.

“I claimed my family magic,” Lily confessed. “I am now in the Slytherin family. I cannot claim heir as that title has already been given out. However I can try to be the Lady of the house if I wish to. It means contesting the current heir, but magic would decide who was worthy.”

“Will you?” Hermione asked curiously. Because for Lily to claim the Lordship of Slytherin would be a direct contestation for the title that Voldemort claimed to hold. And it would mean that she would be claiming the power that he claimed he had.

It would change up the world as she knew it.

“Not yet,” Lily said, “Maybe not ever. I don’t want people to know that I claimed his magic, not yet. There are a lot of misconceptions about Salazar Slytherin from the readings I’ve been doing. And I don’t think I’m ready to face the criticisms that come with it yet. Nor am I ready to challenge this Lord Voldemort. There’s no way he won’t view me, a muggleborn, claiming the Lordship he covets as a threat. I need to prepare for that sort of thing before I even consider it.”

“That’s smart of you,” Hermione smiled. “But just know that you deserve it. It’s your family magic and you have every right to it. No matter what anyone says to you.”

“I know,” Lily said, staring off into the distance, as the two fell into a silence.

Things were already so much different from the time she had left behind. And she couldn’t hope but believe that maybe, just maybe, she was slowly changing things for the better.

She wasn’t avoiding Draco Malfoy, or Draco Black she supposed. She wasn’t. She was just busy.

How could she, when both James and Lily had cornered her in the last few months and told her they knew she had feelings for Draco? How could she even look at him without her mind jumping back to their words, how she had feelings or him, or how she new she could never act on it because things in their lives were far, far too complicated for her to ever even consider acting on it?

She should have known that it really would only be a matter of time before Draco would give up and corner her himself and insist that she stop avoiding him.

“Why is it that the two of us can never manage to be in the same room anymore?” he had asked her, as he entered the library, knowing fully well that no one else was there at the time.

“I’ve been busy,” she shrugged. “I’ve been spending the last month making sure Sirius and Regulus are okay after having to move out from their home. That Lily is okay with the fact that she now possesses the Slytherin family magic and there’s a good chance Voldemort won’t be pleased when he finds out. That Severus continues to thrive even if his mother and father aren’t by his side.”

“I think you’re avoiding me” he said, drawing closer until he was just a foot away from her.

“Why would I be doing that?” she asked defensively. “We’re friends, Draco.”

“Yes, friends,” he said, sneering almost slightly at the last word. “That’s all we are, aren’t we?”

“Draco,” she murmured, “Please.”

“I can’t tip toe around it any longer!” he said, looking her right in the eyes. “You and I both know that whatever this is between us, it’s more than friendship. When we went back in time we didn’t do so with the intention of becoming friends. And yet we did. We became friends and we have been working together all this time. We both know this isn’t friendship, Hermione.”

“Then what is it?” she asked him, desperately. “We’re friends, we have to be friends!”

“I’m in love with you,” he shouted at her. “For Salazar’s sake, I’m in love with you, Hermione Granger, Hermione Potter, whoever you are, I’m in love with you. And I’m tired of pretending that I’m not. That I’m content merely being your friend, because I’m not. I’m in love with you and I cannot pretend that I’m not.

“You have to,” she said softly, gaze dropping. “You can’t love me. We have more important things going on, Draco. There’s a war going on out there. We can’t fail; we can’t be blinded be something so trivial as love.”

He scoffed at that, and she felt herself shaking at that.

“You know what I mean, Draco. We can’t fail. Not knowing what we know,” she said desperate to make him understand. “That world can never come to be. Can you sit by knowing your family will die when we can stop it? We have to! We can’t become distracted by our feelings when the fate of the entire world rests in our hands! We need to stop Voldemort from winning! We cannot let him gain any more power than he already has! You have to understand!”

“So we stop living then?” He asked her. “We sacrifice ourselves for this cause? We sacrifice our happiness? Do we not matter too, Hermione? What is the point in trying to make the world a better place if we do not get to enjoy it? What is the point in trying to save everyone else if we lose ourselves in the process? Potter would never have wanted you to have died trying to save his parents and everyone else. He would have wanted you to be happy. Merlin, I hated the boy, but I knew he cared about you. He never wanted you to lose yourself for this mission.”

She knew he was right. Harry wouldn’t have wanted that for her. He would have hated that she was so single-mindedly focusing on the mission and setting aside her own feelings. How could he expect her to when he himself had fallen in love during a war? It happens, and he would simply quote a Dumbledorian line about the world needing more love.

She couldn’t say anything, feeling herself grow desperate to do something, needing to do something.

“Tell me you don’t love me, and I’ll drop all of this. I’ll keep to our mission, and after this is all over, I’ll never bother you again. You can live out your life, marry whoever you want, or don’t want, and be happy. Tell me you don’t care for me and I’ll never speak of this again,” Draco said, using a finger to gently lift her face.

She felt her heart drop. The only thing worse than the end of the world would be that she would never see Draco again.

She had grown to need him in the last few years. Grown to depend on him, and care for him. How could she live with herself if she never saw him again?

“I can’t,” she whispered. “I can’t say that, Draco.”

He didn’t say anything, and she felt a tear fall down her cheek. “I can’t say that I don’t love you, because if I did, it would be a lie. I love you, Draco, so much that it hurts. You’re the only one who understands my pain, who knows everything about me. The only one who has stayed by my side through this all. You’re more than some partner working with me on a mission. You’re everything to me. I love you, and I can’t pretend that I don’t.”

His lips crashed against hers before she even knew what was happening. She wrapped her fingers through his hair, bringing him closer as his arms snaked around her waist to pull her against him.

She was tired of pretending that she didn’t love him when she did. He made her happy, and for now, that was enough.

Chapter Text

Sirius sat on the grounds of the Potter estate, knees held tightly to his chest as he stared out at the world in front of him.

He didn’t know what to do, what to say, and he needed some time for himself.

He was tired of telling everyone he was okay when they asked, of letting them think that he wasn’t hurt in the slightest. He was tired of hiding the pain he felt.

Because while he may no longer be physically injured, he still hurt inside. It still hurt to think about the fact that his mother wanted him dead for not believing in the same messed up ideals that she believed in. It hurt to think that she would rather him dead for not agreeing with him than alive for disagreeing. It hurt to know she could cause her own child so much pain just because he had not wanted people dead for their blood status. What kind of parent did that make her? What kind of child was he that he could have a mother hate him so much just for existing. Just for being different from her own ideals.

He wanted to scream, or to hex something, or to cry; he didn’t really know. He was just filled with so much pain and anger, and he needed to do something about it.

He didn’t know how; he couldn’t talk to James about it, no matter how hard he tried. James understood what his mother was like, but he could never truly understand the pain Sirius was going through. How could he when his mother and father loved him so unconditionally? When they were disappointed with him, they simply let him know why he was wrong, and they always were actually right. They loved him so wholly and purely.

Not like Sirius, whose parents hated him from the moment he began to develop his own brain and thoughts. Whose parents mocked him and demeaned him at any given chance. Who hated him for not wanting to be like the rest of the family.

James could listen, but he could never truly understand.

“Sirius,” Remus said, as he came up to where he was sitting. “I came as soon as I was allowed. I wish I could have come sooner but there was a full moon and my father didn’t want me anywhere near good people around that time. I’m so, so sorry.”

He sat beside Sirius on the ground placing a gentle hand on his.

“She tried to kill me, Moony,” Sirius said, voice breaking slightly. “She wanted me dead because I didn’t want to join Voldemort. Because I couldn’t be like Peter and denounce you or James and kill people like Lily. She wanted to kill me.”

“You didn’t deserve that,” he told Sirius feverently. “She was wrong to have done that to you. So wrong to have tried and hurt you at all. She’s your mother and she never should have done anything to endanger her child. No parent should put their own happiness or beliefs first if it means causing direct damage to their child.”

From anyone else, Sirius would have just shrugged. Because how could they truly understand the pain it caused when a parent hurt their child with the intention of doing so?

But Remus wasn’t like most people. Remus, whose father locked him up on a regular basis. Who distanced himself from his son and believed him to be a monster. Remus who suffered for years by himself in silence because he couldn’t trust anyone to know his secret.

Remus wrapped an arm around him and Sirius leaned in, resting against his chest.

“I just wish I could have been born to a family who loved me. A family like the Potters who love their children so much. Who would do anything for their children,” Sirius said as Remus held him tighter. “To know true parental love.”

“We can’t choose our biological family,” Remus told him gently, “But we can choose who we claim as ours. Who we want to surround yourselves with and devote our love to. We can choose who we let into our lives. The Potters are more your family than your mother ever will be. Hermione loves you like an older brother, and James has long since claimed you as his own brother. And I choose you, Sirius. In this world or any world, I would always choose you.”

He pressed his lips against Sirius’ head, and for a moment, he felt the constant pain lift off of him, as the love Remus gave him was allowed to warm his heart. For a moment he didn’t feel as alone, and he believed that maybe things could get better after all.

In the weeks following her admittance of her feelings for Draco, she felt herself grow lighter than ever before.

It wasn’t as if the weight of the world no longer rested on her shoulders, because it did. Every day she was reminded of what would happen should she not succeed. Every day she was reminded of the horrors that were to come. And she was absolutely terrified.

But since that time, she had found herself in the company of Draco, who never let her feel alone. Who insisted on her knowing that she was there for him.

It seemed foolish in hindsight, to think that a boy could distract her from their mission. She had never let it do so before. Yes, she had been hurt when Ron accused her of supporting the competition when she and Viktor dated in her fourth year. And it had hurt when Ron had accused her of choosing Harry over him when they were horcrux hunting before he had left.

But it had never been about her personal feelings in either of those cases. She liked Viktor; he was the first boy to ever make her feel like something more than just a brain. But she would never have supported him over Harry in anything. Not when Harry was her family. And she had cared for Ron once, but she never would have chosen her feelings for him over the fate of the world and why they had been on the run in the first place.

It had been a late summer day when their Hogwarts letters finally came, the family sitting around the breakfast table, as James and Sirius discussed the latest match loudly, Hermione, Remus, and Lily discussed the newest magical article that had been released a few days ago which they had eagerly been awaiting. Severus had been called back to his familial home for personal business, and she knew it was really that his grandparents had missed him and wanted to spend some more time with their newly acquainted grandson before he spent another year at school. All while Regulus and Draco discussed the upcoming school year and how they would secure certain family alliances to their grandfather’s cause.

Regulus had been quiet for the week of their arrival, not knowing how to process the fact that his mother had almost killed her brother. That her mother would have succeeded in killing her brother had he not intervened. And if he hadn’t been fast enough, then the person he looked up to could be dead.

It had taken Sirius sitting with him for hours, insisting that he was fine. That he wouldn’t be hurt like that ever again; that their grandfather wouldn’t allow it. The Potters wouldn’t allow it. For Arcturus Black had made it abundantly clear that if anyone tried anything that it would be seen as an act of aggression on the Heir of the House and he would cast them out of the family without as much as a second thought

“The Hogwarts letters are here!” Hermione said excitedly as she sat up when the sight of a flock of owls came their way. Euphemia stood up and opened the breakfast room’s windows as owls landed on the perch she conjured up for them. One by one, she plucked the letters out of their claws, before she moved to distribute them.

“Regulus, Sirius here are your letters,” Her mother said, handing each of them their own. “James, try not to destroy yours this year, alright? It makes it rather difficult to know what supplies you need.”

“It was one time,” her brother whined, “I didn’t mean to. I spilled pumpkin juice on it and while trying to dry it, it may have caught on fire.”

Lily had laughed at that, and James blushed slightly. Draco stared at her brother incredulously and Hermione simply shook her head.

“Here you go, Darling,” Her mother handed her the letter as she kissed her forehead. There was a knowing look on her face, and she couldn’t help but feel suspicious.

With the last of the letters distributed, Hermione gingerly opened hers. She saw something fall out of it, but before she could catch it, Draco had done so swiftly and held it up to her.

“My hero,” she said with a laugh and he winked at her.

“You haven’t even seen what it was, have you?” he asked, smirking.

She looked down at his hands and saw a red and gold badge in it and let out a gasp.

“Is that?” she asked softly.

“You’ve been made a prefect!” Lily said loudly, “That’s fantastic, Hermione!”

“Congratulations,” Remus said with a beam, “Merlin knows we could use the help wrangling in your brother and Sirius.”

“Oi!” James protested. “How could you do this to me, Hermione?” he asked sounding dramatically hurt. “My own sister. A prefect. How will I be able to face anyone at school now that my sister is a responsible authoritative figure. It will utterly ruin the reputation I’ve worked so hard to maintain.”

“I’ll have you know that I was a prefect,” her mother said, looking unamused by her son’s antics. “And while I have no doubt in my mind that Remus deserved it out of all of you lot, it seems like my son did not seem fit to act appropriately enough at school to be given a similar honour.”

“It’s no fun being a prefect,” James whined, “You have to do rounds! You have to be responsible!”

“Merlin forbid you ever have to do that,” her mother rolled her eyes.

“Congratulations, Hermione,” Draco said quietly, “Seems you’re a swot in any time line.”

She shook her head with an amused look as she looked at his own envelope. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you had something in yours as well.”

Before he had a chance to say anything, Sirius snatched the envelope out of his hands and opened it.

“BETRAYAL,” Sirius said loudly holding up the green and silver badge, “BY MY OWN BLOOD.”

“Congratulations guys,” Lily beamed at them both. “You’ll be brilliant at it.”

“I feel so betrayed,” James shook his head and Sirius sighed dramatically.

“You haven’t even opened yours yet,” Lily said, eyeing his strangely.

“What difference does it make?” James sighed, “Books, books, and more books. And some robes. That’s all it’s going to say right?”

“Open your letter, James,” his mother said, exasperatedly. “We need to know what to buy you exactly and we can’t do that without your letter.”

James looked off put but opened his anyways, pulling out the letter without even seeing the silver badge fall out.

“James,” Sirius said, seriously. “Is that?”

His eyes widened. “Merlin.”

She looked over and saw him holding a badge of his own in his hand, “I’ve been made quidditch captain,” he said, slightly stunned.

“You deserve it,” she beamed at her older brother. Because he did. No one in their house cared more about the sport than he had.”

“Congrats, James,” Lily said, a small smile on her face.

“I-uh, thanks,” he said quickly.

She shook her head, laughing at her brother internally. He eyed the badge in wonder and she wondered if he even knew how much he deserved it.

Draco knew many things in regard to his current mission. He knew that it was one of the most important things he would ever do in his life. He knew that if he failed, his mother would die once more. He knew that if he failed, a version of himself, would suffer the same life he once had. He knew that his sister was on a dark path already, and Bellatrix may not be able to be saved. He knew Dumbledore watched over his every action with an air of suspicion. He knew his grandfather had a good idea that there was something very different about him and Hermione Potter. He knew that one day he would need their help, and when that day came, he had no idea how they would react to their news.

 He knew that him becoming a prefect in this life was good. Unlike his past, when he misused the privilege to make Potter and his friends’ lives miserable, in this one he could use it for serious good. He could use his new power to show the younger Slytherins that they could look up to him as a role model. That they didn’t need to blindly follow the other Slytherins who had already turned to Voldemort and were actively recruiting. Because there was another war coming, not just between the Light and the Dark, but between friends and families. In the past Slytherin had almost unanimously turned to Voldemort, and why wouldn’t they with Dumbledore and the Light isolating them at every turn? But in this life, they would be offered somewhere else to turn. Somewhere neutral.

He also knew that he cared for Hermione, be it as a Granger or a Potter. He had cared for her in school and hated himself that he felt anything at all for her. He cared about her when his aunt tortured her on his childhood home’s floor, and he couldn’t do anything about it. He had cared for her when they were fighting against his father and his reign of terror. He cared about her when they had left everything they knew behind.

And as they grew closer as friends, it was harder to pretend that he didn’t care for her. How could he not, when she was so brilliant, so bright, and full of love? When she was so compassionate, and tried to save everyone, even those who didn’t deserve to be saved? His godfather, who had lived a miserable life before now knew his family, now had friends who had his best interests at heart. He had people who cared about him and didn’t need to turn to Voldemort for power. Because even if Severus Snape didn’t deliver the prophecy in this life, there was no guarantee that someone else wouldn’t, if the prophecy even came to be.

He loved her, plain and simple. He loved how she became an Animagus for Remus even though it didn’t directly impact their mission. He loved that she showed Regulus that he didn’t need to feel alone and gave his cousin enough confidence that Regulus was thriving in Slytherin, not as a follower, but as a leader. He was no longer the boy who needed to denounce his brother and prove his worthiness, but one who chose his own path.

But loving Hermione also meant that he would have to face everyone else who cared about her and cared about her wellbeing.

It was how he found himself locked in one of the many rooms of the Potter manor with James Potter, who had a wand raised to his throat.

“What are your intentions with my younger sister?” James asked, eyes narrowing at him. “Is she a conquest to you? A rite of passage? Some sort of initiation?”

“What?” Draco spat out, “Why would she be anything of the sort? How repulsive. What kind of wizard do you take me for?”

“You’re dating my sister,” James said, without lowering his wand. “I want to know why.”

“Because I love her,” Draco said with a sneer, “Because I can’t live without her. Because she’s my best friend, and the only one who understands me properly. Because a life without her is not a life worth living. She makes me happy and as long as she allows me to be with her, I’ll gladly do everything I can to make her as happy as possible.”

“Do you really think you could keep her happy?” James’ eyes narrowed. “What makes you think you’re even worthy of her?”

“I’m not,” Draco rolled his eyes and James faltered at that, lowering his wand. “No one is worthy of her. She’s too good for all of us. She’s the strongest person I know, the smartest person I know. She’s the bravest, and the kindest. She’s too good for all of us, and I won’t even pretend to think that I am deserving of her. But she makes me happy, and I want nothing more than to be with her.”

James laughed at that, “You’re right about that, Mate. She is far better than all of us. Merlin knows that without her I probably would have done a lot of worse things in my life. I probably would have half the school hating me if she didn’t bring me down to earth. She deserves the world, but so do you, Draco. You’re a good kid. And despite that interrogating I just gave you, I know the two of you make each other happy. I’ve known it for years that you would get together eventually. I’ve just been waiting for you lot to figure it out for yourselves. You’re good for her, and I support the two of you.”

“Thank you,” Draco said softly, not sure how to react to the fact that Potter’s father, Hermione’s now brother, supported him and James’ sister in a relationship.

“That being said, don’t think for a second that I wouldn’t make your life miserable if you hurt her,” James threatened.

“I wouldn’t dare think otherwise,” Draco said drily, and James rolled his eyes at him.

“Sirius wants to play a game of Quidditch before dinner,” James said with a laugh, “Let’s go join him.”

Draco shook his head amused but followed the older boy out of the room.

They didn’t see Peter for the entire ride back to the school, and James couldn’t help but feel disappointed. All their letters over the summer had come back, unopened and without a reply of their own, and all attempts to contact the boy were met with silence.

It had been infuriating, to say in the least. What was it that happened to their friend that had caused him to turn his back so suddenly on everything they were, and say such horrible things? He couldn’t understand it, no matter how much he thought about it. When did Peter turn from the sweet boy they had befriended to one who spat in their faces over an argument which hadn’t even been their fault?

Sure he could have told Peter to cool it when he was overenthusiastic after their OWL exam, but why would he have done such a thing? The boy was their friend, and despite his immature behaviour, he cared about them, and respected them. And in an instant, that love for them had shifted to something different. It shifted from love to pure hatred.

All through the welcome dinner, Peter kept his distance, practically sitting at the other side of the table, and avoided all eye contact with them no matter how hard he tried to catch the boy’s eye.

He could see others whispering about it. He knew the school knew about what had happened. Why wouldn’t the fact that Peter Pettigrew spewed hate speech to his friends not be popular gossip?

He had never set out to become popular. He had just wanted to be liked. He had come to school, not knowing many others, and had in his first day, made three friends.

He knew as he grew older, that his ‘popularity’ had come from how he and his friends had actively sought to gain attention. Through pranks and smart remarks in class, they had made a name for themselves. And as he and Sirius played quidditch their popularity had grown. Even Remus, who hated the attention due to his condition, had gained a significant amount due to his brilliance and ‘dashing looks’ as his little sister once had put it.

He never wanted the popularity, but he had loved having it.

But he’d trade it all in a minute if it meant that Peter would talk to him again. To explain what the hell had happened that day. To explain how he could make such horrid comments about them; about his own friends. If he could explain what it was that happened and why he had said the things he had said.

And as Peter avoided them all through dinner, he couldn’t avoid them as they all still shared the same dorm room.

So when Peter entered the room, he, Remus, and Sirius were waiting there for him, arms crossed.

“Why have you been avoiding us, Peter?” James asked, looking hurt. “We’ve tried talking to you all summer, but you haven’t sent us a single word of a response.”

“Maybe you should have taken a hint then,” Peter said with a shrug. “I was busy. I had better things to do. I didn’t want to. Take your pick.”

“Peter,” Sirius said in a pained voice. “We’re your friends. We’re brothers! Does that not mean anything to you? After everything that happened, you owe us an explanation. You owe us the truth of what possessed you to say those horrible things.”

“Brothers?” Peter spat out, “We’re not family. We’re not even friends. Not anymore, anyways. Why would we be when for the better part of the last few years, you’ve all but ignored me when it wasn’t convenient for you? When you all had better things to do, like play Quidditch or excluding me from your study group.”

“You were always invited to play when we did recreationally,” James said, the first to recover from Peter’s words.

“You were never excluded from studying,” Remus said for the first time. “You were never interested. Do you think any of us would have cared if you came? Hermione would have been thrilled. I would have been thrilled. You’re my friend, why wouldn’t I have wanted you to have come? You were never interested.”

“Why would I want to come when I would be a hindrance?” Peter rolled his eyes, “It’s not a secret that I am not as smart as you lot. Even Hermione and the Blacks are a year younger than me, and far above my level. I wouldn’t have been welcome so why would I come?”

“You cannot put words into our mouths and refuse to come because you felt a certain way without talking to any of us. No one said you weren’t welcome. You just decided you weren’t,” Remus said.

“Even if you hated how we treated you, it doesn’t change what you said,” Sirius said, firmly. “You called us blood traitors. You called Lily a mudblood. Why would you say such horrible words simply because you felt left out?”

“Because you are,” Peter spat out. “Because you turn your backs on magic and tradition and embrace the muggle world. You’re wizards! And when you were busy excluding me, I found others who cared about me and my wellbeing. And don’t even say that you didn’t exclude me, because it’s a lie. How many times did you run off together because of something that came up and you couldn’t have been bothered to have waited for me? How many times did I get attacked for your pranks when you weren’t around? Because it happened a lot. And there were others there for me when you weren’t.”

“Peter,” James said slowly. “Just because they offered you help doesn’t make them good people.”

“They’re better than you lot,” Peter snarled. “They care about me. they make sure I’m doing okay. And they have never abandoned me. They’re far better than you. Far purer than you. I heard what your mother did to you, Sirius. You should have just done what she wanted, and then none of it would have happened.”

“Get. Out.” Sirius said, and James felt his heart drop at his friend’s words. Because it was clear that Peter had made up his mind. He had no intention of being their friend once more.  He had no intention of allowing things to return to how they once were. The words he uttered those months ago weren’t a mistake or because of a stray Imperius curse or any of the possibilities he had thought of.

They were because Peter Pettigrew had changed from the once shy, caring boy, to one who hated them.

Chapter Text

It was September when Lily tossed the letter her mother had written her on the table, looking frustrated and unhappy at whatever the contents were.

“What did it say?” Hermione asked, concerned as her friend let out a sigh of exasperation. “Is everything alright, Lily?”

“Everything is fine,” Lily sighed. “Normal, boring and utterly dull.”

She must have looked as confused as she felt at why that would be a bad thing because Lily sighed once more before choosing to elaborate.

“My sister has taken a clerical job,” Lily explained. “At Grunnings. A company that makes drills. She moved out of home to go to live in London so she could pursue a perfectly normal job and have a perfectly normal life without having anything that made her different in her life. She couldn’t stand to live at home anymore. Not when it’s a constant reminder of just how abnormal everything in her family can be. Of how abnormal I am and how different her family is from what she wished it were. She wants her life to be everything I’m not. Stable, dull, boring, and not at all related to magic.”

“Is she still not talking to you?” Hermione asked her curiously, wondering what her currently relationship with her sister was, as she knew the two of them hardly had the best relationship in the past.

“No,” Lily said softly, “She talks to me if Mum or Dad are in the room because they hate that the two of us aren’t close anymore. But even then it’s usually small sentences about medial things, or snide remarks about something or the other. We don’t talk about real things. She has no idea about our world and what’s happening in it, nor does she care. She doesn’t care that I’ve been made a prefect, she doesn’t care that I’m the top in my year. She doesn’t care about the fact that there is a war coming. I told them that we were related to a founder of the school. I explained family magic to them, and what it entailed beyond just his name when I claimed Slytherin’s magic. I explained that I could challenge to become the Head of the house if I wanted to. I explained how big of a deal it was and that I couldn’t even tell anyone yet because it wasn’t safe. Do you know what she said in response? She rolled her eyes and was annoyed that it was yet another barrier in her way to living a regular, normal, life. As if it was my fault that we were related to Slytherin.”

“I’m sorry,” Hermione said softly, placing a hand on Lily’s. “That isn’t fair of her to do. You shouldn’t have to go through that. You just wanted to know where you came from. You just wanted to have the same magical rights and advantages as the rest of us. It isn’t your fault that you found out where you came from and she didn’t like the answer.”

“She would never admit it, but she was jealous when she found out about magic and that she didn’t have any,” Lily confessed, “Severus found that she had written to Dumbledore begging him to let her come to the school. Dumbledore had refused, in the nicest way possible, because there is no way she could come here. She doesn’t have magic. And she hates that our family is descended from someone who had it, but she didn’t get the ability. That it wasn’t some random chance that I had magic, but genetic.”

She almost felt bad for Petunia Evans at that, but she remembered just how much that jealousy had affected her. She had isolated her younger sister out of it. She pushed Lily away, further and further each day. She hated her nephew enough to try and force him to live a “normal” life and locked him up several times over the years to prevent him from being who he was meant to be.

 “I don’t think the two of us will ever be close again,” Lily said softly, “No matter how hard I try, how hard I wish it could happen, the two of us have too much distance between us. Too much has happened. She hates me, Hermione. And nothing I do will ever be able to change that. The minute I chose to come to this school, I lost her.”

Lily was quiet for a moment, “I’ve always envied you and James. He’s always been so supportive of you, and it seems like nothing could make him mad at you. He’s proud of you, as he should be, for everything you do, and is so protective of you. He’d fight a war to keep you safe, Hermione. James Potter, who before you started school, hated Slytherins more than anything. But when you were afraid of being one, he promised that he would still love you anyways. He changed for you, because of you. He’d do anything for your happiness. And I just wish I had a sibling who cared about me like that.”

“I’ve always thought of you as an older sister,” Hermione confessed. “I know it’s not the same thing. I know we’re not actually related, nor does it make what your sister has done to you any better. But I love you as a sister and only want you to be happy. I would do anything for that, Lily.”

“Oh Hermione,” Lily said softly, as she pulled the younger girl into a tight hug. “You’re sweet. I do care for you too. I would always choose you as a sister, if that option was ever given to me to decide. I know I can’t change how Petunia feels about me, or the fact that she will never be able to move past what has happened between the two of us. But I know that family isn’t always just those who are related to us. I’m honoured you consider me to be like a sister to you. Because I feel the same way about you.”

She grinned at the older girl, knowing that in time those words would no longer just be honorary, and would be legal. And she couldn’t wait for the day her brother got his head out of his arse and started courting Lily properly.

Ever since Peter Pettigrew had hinted to Avery and Nott that something was different about Remus, the boys had promised him that they would do everything in their power to be able to figure out exactly what it was that the boy was keeping a secret from the rest of the school.

He hated so much that he had made a vow to keep it a secret, but he was thankful that they had been younger when they made the vow and hadn’t been as careful with their wording. He could never talk to another soul about what Remus’ secret was. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t lead others to come to the same conclusion by themselves. He just needed to be smart in how they did so. Because there had to be a way for him to be able to clue them in without harming himself in the process.

He couldn’t even as much as talk about the full moon. He had tried, going up to them, but the minute he tried to get the words out, he began gasping for air.

“Today,” he wheezed out, and the two boys exchanged a look, thankfully understanding exactly what it was that he was trying to tell them.

“We’ll be ready,” Avery said with a nod. “When?”

“Night,” he breathed out, unable to say another word without breaking the vow he had so recklessly made so many years ago. How would he have known that such a thing would come back and bite him in the arse so spectacularly?

“He knew he couldn’t risk the boys seeing him with the two Slytherins as the boys attempted to see what it was that Remus was hiding. But he would be able to hide from a safe distance and watch. How they were going to immobilize the tree without him, he didn’t know. Perhaps Lupin would have to spend the full moon alone for the first time in a while.

It was better that way, really. When he and the boys, and to his dismay later Hermione, joined him, they ran wildly through the Forbidden Forest without a care in the world. Without a care that any reckless student out late at night could be in the forest. People could die, all because they wanted a laugh.

They had to be better than that. They had to care more about what it was that they were doing. And yet, they refused. They lived life by their own rules and screw anyone else who thought otherwise. He had admired it so much in the beginning, wanting nothing more than to be like them, but he hated it now. Hated how reckless they were. Hated how little they cared about anyone other than themselves. They deserved what was coming their way.

It was how he found himself tailing behind the boys, who in turn had been tailing after James, Sirius, and Hermione, as they headed down towards the front entrance to meet Black the younger.

He knew he had to remain far enough away that he wouldn’t raise any suspicion. Not when the boys were using the map to see where any teachers were at any given time. But of course, he couldn’t exactly talk about the map either, could he? Not when Hermione Bloody Potter made it a magical clause that a majority of the parties involved needed to agree if anyone else was told about it or suffer dire consequences. He had no idea what kind of magic she had infused in it, but he wouldn’t be surprised if it were something dangerous.

It was how when he finally approached the front gate of the school he saw James whip his head up in time to spot Avery and Nott approaching them.

“Don’t come any closer,” James threatened, raising his wand at the two Slytherins.

“Or what?” Avery sneered. “Are you going to prank us, Potter?”

“Believe it or not, I am the top in our year in Defense,” James said coolly, and Peter felt his hatred grow even more as he nonchalantly spoke.

“It’s not like it will do you any good,” Nott smirked, “Not when we have knowledge of magic you couldn’t even begin to dream of.”

“Just deal with them,” Sirius said, impatiently. “It’s getting late.”

James smirked at the boys, “Well you see, my friend here is right. We have plans for tonight. Plans that don’t include snakes. So if you don’t mind.”

“Expelliarmus!” Hermione said quickly, as she must have spotted Avery about to hex them.

“Nice thinking,” James beamed at her, and it made him sick.

“You should have done that in the beginning,” she scolded him, as if she were disappointed in his dueling skills. Of course she always had to be superior at everything, didn’t she?

“You’re right,” James sighed, as Black approached them.

“Stupefy!” James said, and Peter watched as Avery and Nott fell to the ground. “You lot go ahead. I’m going to drop these two off in the infirmary. I’ll take the cloak so Madam Pomfery doesn’t see me and ask any questions. We shouldn’t leave Remus alone for any longer. Merlin knows this full moon is going to be hard enough without Peter joining us.”

Sirius placed a hand on James’ shoulder, and Peter almost thought they seemed upset at his absence. As if.

He was furious. Furious that Potter and Black managed to catch onto what they were doing. He should have known it would have been harder than simply having the two Slytherins tailing after them. They would have to work far harder if they wanted to catch them red handed. Only then could he get Remus properly expelled and away from the school.

Albus Dumbledore had his reasoning for why he didn’t trust Slytherins. He wasn’t biased for no reason. He had seen it time and time again; trusting Slytherins, only to have them turn around and prove him wrong.

He had tried his best to trust Tom Riddle, even though everything in his gut told him he was wrong and shouldn’t trust the boy. And he had been right; the boy murdered a student and had gone on to become this Dark Lord.

He had trusted other students, trying to give them the benefit of the doubt, only for them to hex others they believed to be lesser than them.

He had tried to treat all of them fairly, but perhaps too many decades at the school had shown him time and time again that there was a reason that so many students in that house ended up going dark. Because there was nothing wrong with being ambitious, but ambition was a trait that often lead to the willingness to do anything for power, and absolutely anything to obtain it.

They all clouded themselves with Dark magic, magic that was used more often than not to harm others. Magic that countered everything he believed in.

Grindelwald himself had succumbed to the darkness and had killed his sister. He nearly had as well. Ariana had saved him that day. Because as much as he hated the fact that she was dead, and as much as he wished more than anything that he could bring her back, he knew that without her death, he would have fallen to the darkness as well.

It was why it had been up to him to destroy his friend. It was why he had hidden himself away for so long, trying hard not to have to face his former friend; his former lover.

Because it had hurt, knowing that the two of them who had been so close for so long, had been thrown apart because of one fight. Because of his sister’s death.

It had been why he had never sought power after that moment. He settled himself in as a school teacher and had turned down every offer to become the next Minister of Magic. Because he had enough power as it was, and he didn’t need anymore. Not when he knew what horrors desires such as ambition brought.

If he knew one thing, it was how to identify the craze for power. He had seen it in Grindelwald. He had seen it in Tom Riddle. And he could see it now in Regulus Black.

And while the young student hardly was an up and coming dark lord, he had every all the right markers of someone who he knew he should watch out for. He had connections; it was no secret that the younger Slytherins looked up to both of the Black cousins in the house.

While it wasn’t rare for there to be a student in the house who held as much power, it happened very rarely where such a student commanded the respect of students from other houses.

While he knew that Draco Black had his acquaintance to Hermione Potter and several other Gryffindors, it was Regulus who held the Slytherin’s loyalty in a way he hadn’t seen before.

The boy who had been shy his first year, ducking his head down at every turn, now easily wandered around the hallway with confidence, as the students in his year and younger looked up to the boy. It certainly helped that he was gifted in his classes, and while not the top in the year, certainly brilliant in his own right. And between that, and being the seeker on the Slytherin team, he had popularity in his own right.

It wasn’t that Dumbledore no longer feared the acquaintance between Draco Black and Hermione Potter, for that was dangerous in its own right. While the two of them were the top in their year, and from what reports the teachers had given him, easily two of the most brilliant students in upper years as well. If they wanted to, several professors had no doubts that they could easily pass their OWLs even at this point in the year, without studying for them.

 But it was that so many students were loyal to both Blacks that bothered him. That it seemed Sirius Black was no longer some rogue member of the house, but a representation of how the Dark house’s direction seemed to be going.

Because it was certainly dangerous to have so many Blacks garnering the support of the younger years. It showed that their views, especially in current times, were challenging.

Regardless of their stance on muggle issues, the Blacks were a dark, pureblood family. And even if they weren’t pledging their loyalty to Voldmort, they would never support any of the Light legislation he needed to pass in order to ensure Tom Riddle never gained control of the wizarding world.

And yet, Regulus Black seemed to hold the ears of so many children of the Grey and Dark vote, votes that he sometimes could swing in his direction, and certainly needed to if he were to succeed. Worse, votes such as the Potters and Longbottoms and their supporters were now siding with the Blacks. And he had no doubt that the friendship between the Blacks and Potters in his school had quite a bit to do with such a thing.

Regulus Black was playing a dangerous game; one he may not even fully understand the ramifications of at this current time. Perhaps none of this was his or even Draco Black’s game at all. But the game of someone much older, controlling the strings. Arcturus Black, who had been a thorn in his side for years in the Wizengamot.

But at the end of the day it barely mattered who had decided to start this game of power. All that mattered was who controlled it, and what they did with it. And if Albus Dumbledore wanted any chance of winning the war that was to come, he would need to make sure he came out on top.

When Hermione Potter went down to breakfast the morning of Halloween, she immediately knew something was up. It didn’t take much for her to figure it out, what with the sneaky looks her brother and his friends were giving each other, combined with the fact that almost every other year they had done something on this day.

She eyed her juice suspiciously, “Do I want to know what it is that you did to this?” she asked, and he laughed in response.

“Why would you think I did anything, dear Hermione?” James asked, giving her an innocent look. “Does my own sister doubt me? I’m wounded. Wounded.”

“The betrayal,” Sirius said dramatically. “To be hurt by one’s own sister. It’s absolutely devastating really.”

“Shut up, Sirius,” Hermione rolled her eyes. “Is the juice safe to drink?”

“The juice is just fine,” James said giving her an innocent look. And when she looked at him absolutely sceptically, he raised his own glass and took a sip out of it. “See just fine!”

“That hardly assures me,” She rolled her eyes. “How could it when I know you would willingly allow yourself to be pranked just so I would let my guard down and allow you to prank me however you saw fit.”

“The juice is fine, Hermione,” Remus reassured her. “I promise on my prefect badge that James and Sirius have not touched the juice.”

She sighed, “There’s really no point trying to avoid whatever your prank was, is there? If not the juice, then you did something to the other foods.”

James simply grinned at her, “Eat up, little sister.”

She shook her head instead, and took a bite of the toast gingerly, as if it would turn her to a zombie or something else. And when nothing happened she took a sip of her own drink, just as she saw James turn bright yellow.

“You did spike the juice!” she accused them. “Remus you swore!”

Remus smirked at her, “I promised James and Sirius did not touch the juice. I never said I didn’t.”

“I trusted you,” she groaned. “What colour am I now? What did you do?”

“Ever heard of the muggle trend, mood rings?” James asked her. “They somehow magically change colours based on whatever the user is feeling! How cool is it that muggles were able to do such a thing even though they don’t actually possess magic?”

“Muggles,” Sirius said solemnly, “They’re absolutely brilliant.”

She resisted the urge to point out that the rings contained no magic at all, and instead simply changed colours based on the temperature of the wearer, and that it was all just science really.

She did have to admit their spell was brilliant, even if she wasn’t pleased about being a different colour.

“Why are you red?” Draco asked as he came over to their table. “Did your brother and my cousin pull a prank again?”

She saw her hand turn pink as Draco came over and she beamed at him, “Did they not get to you too?” she asked him with a slight pout. “Am I the only one who turned a different colour.”

He pressed his lips against hers and she saw him turn pink as well.

“Ugh I did not think this through,” James sighed, “I might like the two of you together but that doesn’t mean I need to see the two of you being all affectionate over breakfast!”

Sirius wagged his brows, turning pink right away, as he leaned over and planted a sloppy kiss on Remus who immediately turned pink.

“Not you two,” James complained out loud as Marlene gave him a sympathetic look.

“It’s rough isn’t it,” she said sighing, “Seeing everyone so in love. While the person you want has no idea you even exist, or they simply don’t care enough to notice your feelings.”

Lily sighed at that and Hermione looked over in surprise to see the girl turn slightly pink as she must have been dwelling in her own feelings at that own moment.

“Lily?” Hermione asked her in surprise, “Are you okay?”

“Yes, why?” Lily asked, sounding unsure.

“Because you turned pink,” Marlene said, looking thrilled at that. “My roommate and friend has a crush, and she didn’t even tell me about it!”

“I uh,” she stammered, and James looked up at her in surprise, and curiously. “I have to go,” she said, blushing harder as she looked at James.

Hermione grinned at that, and Draco shook his head at her.

“I’m not interfering,” she shook her head in a quiet voice. “They’ll figure it out all on their own.”

He simply nodded in agreement as he sat down beside her and pressed a kiss onto her head.

“Potter why am I red?” Severus asked as he marched over angrily, while the rest of the school looked amused at the fact that they changed colours. She heard other students try and figure out what it meant.

“I think it suits you,” Marlene flirted and Severus rolled his eyes.

“Hardly,” he scoffed.

“You look ravishing,” she winked at him, and Severus flushed slightly.

“See, the lady says you look lovely,” James smirked. “It suits you, Prince.”

“Whatever, Potter,” Severus rolled his eyes. “Draco if you sit with them, you’re only encouraging their pranks.”

“Maybe I don’t mind them,” Draco drawled. “I have a beautiful girl beside me, who very clearly, according to her pink state, likes me just as much as I like her.”

“You’re nauseating,” Severus scoffed.

“Besides, he’s my cousin,” Sirius argued, “Maybe he enjoys my pranks!”

“Doubtful,” Severus said, “Your own brother was unimpressed when he turned gold this morning. His house started teasing him for turning into your own colours.

“Please the Slytherins love him,” Sirius scoffed. “They’d follow him anywhere.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to turn a different colour,” Severus snapped. “Undo it, Black.”

“It’ll wear off in time,” James assured him. “Just enjoy it until then. And maybe notice a bit more when someone is flirting with you.”

He looked off in Marlene’s direction then, and she blew a kiss at him.

Severus simply shook his head and walked away.

“Can’t help them all,” Draco shrugged.

None of them noticed the Headmaster staring at their interaction closely.

Chapter Text

If the mood ring prank that her brother had cast on the school had not been enough to inform Hermione that her friend was certainly hiding something in regard to her feelings, then the way she would be unable to hold a conversation with her brother for longer than five minutes without a slight blush forming on her face before she ran out of the room would be more than enough to do so.

And James, her poor naïve brother, was none the wiser, still believing that Lily simply tolerated him out of her friendship to Hermione and Remus, and still pined away for her, wanting nothing more than that,

But to her watching in, it was painfully obvious just how the two of them felt for each other. It was painfully obvious to see the two of them pine away for each other, when really, they could have been together this entire time.

Merlin.

Had she and Draco been that bad?

Was that why so many people had taken to talking to her about her feelings before the two of them had finally gotten together?

It was no wonder really, because it was an absolute nightmare to watch two people like them, who she knew very well would end up together and live a happy, even if a short, life together. If only they could get it together.

“Do you like my brother?” she asked Lily abruptly in one of their study sessions, and Lily, poor Lily, who hadn’t even seen the question coming, knocked over her pot of ink all over the table and her notes.

“Look what you made me do,” Lily complained, and Hermione lifted up her wand, vanishing the damage away.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Hermione reminded her, and she was grateful that it was one of the rare occasions that the two of them were alone, as Severus, Regulus, and Draco had some sort of meeting with their house in order to decide how they would proceed over certain issues, as apparently Slytherins usually did. And James and Sirius were off with Remus, trying to convince the boy to play quidditch with them.

“Why are you even asking me such a thing?” Lily asked defensively, “Isn’t it weird for you to think of your brother having any sort of romantic feelings? Doesn’t it go against the sibling code or something, where you just don’t talk about that sort of thing?”

Hermione all but snorted, “James Potter, the boy who has been very showy about his feelings for you, trying to hide his feelings from me? The same brother who all but told me that I should date Draco because he made me happy and I was only hurting myself by denying my feelings? We might not talk about all our feelings on a constant basis, but I know enough about him to know how he feels about something or someone.”

“It’s not that simple,” Lily murmured. “James and I are complicated. We started hating each other because of some sort of misunderstanding. Then we became acquaintances because we both care about you. Then he started asking me out as some sort of joke that he couldn’t let go of when he realized I’d keep saying no and he had fun with it. We’re barely friends and he doesn’t care about me, not truly.”

“You spend half your summers at my home,” Hermione pointed out. “And out of the majority of that time, you spent a decent amount with my brother, even if I am not there. You might not be as close as you or Severus or him and the boys, but I think you can safely say that you’re friends.”

“That doesn’t mean he cares about me,” Lily scoffed. “Just that we’re friends! And our friendship is so complicated, you can’t deny that, Hermione. There’s so much history and so much at stake. I’m hardly about to mess that up because of stupid teenage emotions that mean absolutely nothing in the long run. I’m sure we can all laugh about how stupid and naïve I was in ten years.”

“Maybe in terms how much you deny your feelings for him,” Hermione said wryly.

She knew she was supposed to let it happen naturally, organically. She wouldn’t interfere, she wouldn’t force the two of them together. But her friend clearly needed someone to talk to about her feelings. And if Lily wanted to keep denying them to herself, then it was up to her. But eventually it would become too much for her to hide from.

“For all I know this is all some sort of game to him!” Lily argued back. “He thinks it’s funny to ask me out but has no intention of actually dating me. I’ll make a fool of myself and the entire school will make some sort of mockery of me.”

Hermione shook her head, “I admit he has been over the top in how he approaches you,” she sighed, “I mean five hundred lilies for your birthday that one year, really? But that doesn’t mean his feelings for you are any less fake, Lily. He’s so in love with you he can’t make head or tails of it. He talks about it constantly, how amazing you are, how brilliant you are, and how he wishes you would just go out with him to Hogsmeade just once. I’m not here to tell you that you owe it to my brother to date him. You can tell him to bugger off if it’s what you want. It’s your right to do so. But at least be honest with yourself about your feelings.”

Lily sighed softly, without saying anything else, and Hermione decided to drop the conversation for now. She would not push the two of them together. But at least she could give them a helpful nudge.

Regulus Black had never understood Peter Pettigrew. Not truly. Despite the fact that the boy had always been best friends with his older brother, there was something that had always been off about him.

His brother was the non-caring kind of popular, who could walk into a room and leave those in it swooning after him with his nonchalance. He was a flirt, especially when he had been single, hitting on anything and everything in sight, always making out with someone between classes in broom closets or late at night in the Astronomy Tower.

James Potter was the opposite kind of popular, but still popular in his own right. He was the kind of person whom everyone wanted to befriend because of his outgoingness and ability to make quick remarks back in class, always cheeky in his responses. And despite Sirius’ ability to flirt with everything, James Potter had always had his sights set on one girl, even if she had wanted nothing to do with him in the past.

Remus Lupin was different; he was calmer than both the boys, mysterious even. He had scars on his body and vanished once a month due to his mother’s illness. And while he had long since known the truth of the matter, it didn’t stop the rumours around the school about why the boy had vanished so often. He was easily the most studious of the lot, cared the most about the rules, despite being known to partake in pranks, and aside from Hermione Potter, was probably the reason none of the others had been expelled or killed yet.

But Peter Pettigrew was just there. He wasn’t smooth, outgoing, or intelligent. He was just there, following around his brother and his friends, in amazement at every single thing they did or said, and their number one fan. However, in terms of popularity, he didn’t contribute anything to their group.

He knew Gryffindors were different; they didn’t make friends solely on connections or beneficial reasons. They made friends because of their hearts and their need to save everything and everyone. It was why they were friends with Peter, despite the fact that he didn’t really contribute anything to their friendship.

He had met the boy of course, hung out with them on several instances, especially during the summer. But unlike James or Remus who wanted to make sure Sirius’ brother felt included and made sure they knew they didn’t just do it out of obligation, Peter was different. He rolled his eyes whenever James or Sirius tried to include Hermione, Draco, and Regulus in whatever it was that they were doing. Something he found himself appreciating more and more once his mother had all but tried to kill his older brother. But Peter saw it as an obligation, and he knew the boy complained behind their backs. Merlin knew he complained more and more to their faces.

He wasn’t all that surprised when Peter Pettigrew had a falling out with his friends. But what did surprise him was the fact that it wasn’t over the fact that he simply felt left out or that he wanted to be more included. No, he had also brought blood purity in to it, stating that he didn’t want to associate with mudbloods or blood traitors.

And now, here was Peter Pettigrew, sitting in the Slytherin common room with Avery and Nott, talking as if they were lifelong best friends. He didn’t need to be able to know what they were saying to know what it was about.

“I don’t like it,” Regulus murmured to Draco. “Why is he here? He isn’t a Slytherin, no matter how much his house may dislike him. He has no place in our house, where he wasn’t sorted and has no actual right to be here.”

“I don’t like it either,” his cousin said with a slight frown on his face, as he looked over at the boy in question. “But I do not suppose he feels welcome in his own dorm room anymore, after everything that must have happened last year. Hermione mentioned that the boys tried to reach out to him once they came back to school and Pettigrew just brushed them off. He doesn’t sleep in their dorm room most nights, but I can’t imagine why any of them would want him to given everything that happened. It’s one thing to never have made close friends with your dorm mates. It’s another thing to have fallen out the way they did.”

“I would hate to be in that situation,” Regulus shuddered. “Sirius was upset all summer long when Peter didn’t even respond to any of their letters and sent them all back unopened. I think it was almost as bad to him as what Mother tried to do. Because he always saw it coming that she would try something like it one day. But he never saw what Peter did coming.”

“It’s a good thing,” Draco murmured. “He always would have felt this way. At least he made it clear where he stood and didn’t keep pretending to be their friend. It’s better to have a snake in plain sight than a snake hidden in the grass where you cannot see it. If he is here, then we know what he is up to. Would you prefer if he were with your brother still pretending to be their friend while doing Merlin knows what behind their backs?”

Regulus frowned at that, “I see your point. I suppose it is better if he is here as it means that he’s not going to be able to betray them in the long run. Especially given everything that is happening.”

Fleamont Potter sat in his study surrounded by more people he would have thought possible. His brother-in-law, Arcturus Black, was right by his side of course, as he had been through the entirety of this ordeal. Alongside him was Augusta Longbottom, who after the passing of her husband, had taken on the Regent Head of the Household until Frank Longbottom came of age, due to the fact that she was only a Longbottom by marriage. There was also Fabian and Gideon Prewett, Caradoc Dearborn, Thomas Burke, and, Minerva McGonagall, whom was a family friend of his wife.

He knew that Arcturus was also in talks of joining to their alliance some friends of his youngest grandchild, Regulus, whose parents had been unsure of where to side as they did not particularly believe in either of the extreme’s ideals, however it was taking more time than either of them had initially expected.

“We all know why we are here today,” Fleamont said in a grim voice, “There has been yet another attack on muggle London, this time on a small family who had gone out with their youngest child to watch a show. The muggle police found their blood splattered all over the alley, made by a weapon not consistent with anything in their database. The Aurors confirmed it to have been several dark hexes which ripped their limps apart. “

“We know who was responsible,” Fabian said angrily, “It is the work of those horrible Death Eaters, targeting a single family who had simply gone out for a night of enjoyment. Instead they became the entertainment to a horrible group of witches and wizards. And for what? Who they were? What their blood status is? It’s absolutely outrageous.”

“Our sister just had her third child,” Gideon said, a little shaken by the report, “What if such a thing happens to her or her husband or children the next time they go out to Diagon Alley? The Death Eaters have made it plenty clear that they have no problem targeting witches and wizards who disagree with their ideals as well. What will keep them safe?”

“There’s only one thing we can do,” Augusta Longbottom said sternly, “If they are going to attack us, then we must fight them back. We must fight fire with fire, curses with curses. How else can any of us expect to be safe otherwise if we need to constantly watch over our shoulders whenever we as much as go out for a bought of shopping? If this so-called Voldemort character would like to curse me on the street, I should be able to curse them back. Is it not my right to be able to do such a thing to protect myself from them and their actions?”

“It is,” Arcturus nodded, “However that will not solve our larger problem. He has a large following regardless of what their reasons are, they follow him, and believe in him. While this Voldemort must also be brought down, we must ensure his followers do not carry on his work while he is gone. So many people willingly fight by his side because they feel threatened. It is up to us to show them why violence will not solve anything, why it will only lead to their downfall, to all of their downfalls.”

“What can we do to dissuade them?” Minerva asked looking unconvinced. “They have already made up their mind, long before they even decided to join Voldemort. They decided that certain witches and wizards were far less deserving than themselves simply because of whom their parents are. It’s going to take a lot more to change their minds.”

“They believe they are losing their heritage,” Fleamont corrected, “But they do not need to be. Just because we allow muggleborns into the school does not mean we are changing how our society works. We still use our family magic, whenever we can. However we do not share this knowledge with younger students because Dumbledore has removed it from the curriculum. Would it not be beneficial to everyone to bring it back? Muggleborns would feel more connected to this world they just entered, and us who have been born into it would not be made to feel as if we are doing something wrong by having different strengths based on our family heritage.”

“Family magic is more important than that,” Arcturus said with a nod, “It could be the key to this entire war. Why does Voldemort not claim his Headship of Slytherin House if he is the heir? Why make up a new name and a false lordship to try and rule over with? Does he not have the access to his magic?”

“The last of the Slytherin line died out in the Gaunts,” Augusta snorted. “Not that any of them could claim it either.”

“Consider if Merope Gaunt had a child with the muggle she was rumoured to have run off with, he would then be the last of the Gaunt line, would he not?” Dearborn asked.

“Tom Riddle,” Minerva said in shock, “He is of the Gaunt line? Is he who this Lord Voldemort really is?”

“You knew him?” Fabian, surprised.

“He went to Hogwarts a few years before me,” she admitted, “I never met him, but the student and professors told stories about him long after he left. He had been a brilliant student.”

 “A half-blood is trying to push for blood purity?” Burke sneered. “Did no one even question where he came from?”

“Apparently,” Fleamont said. “We just need to make sure the truth gets out there. Enough so that we could cripple his credibility and hopefully stop so many from following him without a question.”

“Would it be enough?” McGonagall asked him with a brow raised. “Just because we tell the truth wouldn’t stop those from standing by his side. They finally have a powerful Dark Wizard on their side willing to fight for what they believe in.”

“It wouldn’t be enough,” Arcturus said, “But it would be a starting point. It would at least cause others to question his cause and if we’re lucky, maybe be enough to curb the amount of new people joining him.

Fleamont, “In the meant time, we need to make sure he isn’t able to pass the new legislation on werewolves.”

As the weather grew colder with each passing day, Draco couldn’t help but wonder for just how much longer they would be able to keep their secret from their family members.

He knew it would not yet be wise to inform everyone of the truth. But the fact of the matter was that they already had secured several Hocruxes and in the five years they had been here, they were no closer to trying to find a way to destroy them than they were before. Sooner or later there would come a time when they would need to seek out either Fleamont Potter or Arcturus Black and see if their family had any known methods of destroying such dark magic. Especially given what other stuff one could find in the Black Family Library, he held little doubt that there would be something in there which contained the answers he and Hermione so desperately needed.

And yet, they still were no closer to locating the locket, the cup, or the diary. If any of them were even in play as of yet.

How much longer would they have to wait to find the last three horcruxes? How many more would die before they could destroy them? Would it be months, years, decades?

It was such thoughts that plagued him, day after day, unknowing of what to do. Hermione was no better off, what with trying to balance her brother and their friends’ reactions to Pettigrew’s betrayal alongside everything else. And how could she tell them what a blessing it was, to find out now that Peter felt this way, rather than in a few years when Voldemort walked through their front door because they had still trusted him?

He knew that she had tried to save him, tried to show him that she too was a friend to him. But in the end it hadn’t been enough. He still had turned on the rest of them, still had shown his true colours to the entire school.

It was such thoughts that occupied his mind to the point where he barely even noticed the owl in front of him drop a letter by his food. The black branded own pecked at him, impatiently, in order to get his attention.

“Something on your mind, Cousin?” Regulus asked, as Draco finally noticed his oldest sister’s owl in front of him.

He frowned, “What is she writing to me about?”

Regulus shrugged, a tense look on his face as well. He had never had the closest relationship to his sister, so he highly doubted she was reaching out just to check in on how he was doing.

Dearest Brother,

I write to you as the world changes before our very eyes. It happens slowly every day, where the world is moving towards its future; bright and full of hope. The Dark Lord is making it so, bringing us to the future all of us so clearly desire, trying to give us all the life we’ve always wanted, and not restricted by those foolish muggle lovers such as Dumbledore.

I write to you today to warn you to remain true to our cause and our very nature. Do not place all of your hope in our cousin as the head of the house. He has disgraced us all by running off to live with those blood traitors and in doing so he has shown that he does not care for our family or our values. He would rather destroy this family than lead it. We both know that this is the truth of the matter.

Do not get too close to him. He is only the heir of our house, and we never know how long that will last. You should not be so quick to follow either him, or our Head of the House. Life happens, accidents happen. One day Arcturus Black will not be around to make decisions for our house. One day Sirius Black may not be around to do so either. We never know what will happen, and it is a possibility that the Ancient and Noble house of Black might find themselves without either an heir or head of house. And if such an instance were to occur, it is your duty to step forward and to set us back on the path to enlightenment. The path which would free us of the constraints placed on us by those who wish to constrain us. To limit us. We need a head who would be perfect for the day of reckoning to come. Who would fight for us and our right to practice magic as we desire, without the fear of letting mudbloods feel left out and have to dumb ourselves down as such.

I have been given the favour of the Dark Lord. I serve him well, and he trusts me to help bring his cause to fruition. He had given me several tasks and I have delivered them all to him without fail. I am doing my part for this cause, Draco, as you one day must as well. It is the desire of our parents, of our uncle and aunt, even if Grandfather is too old and incompetent to see it. It is how our family must proceed in order to stay in control of our fate.

He trusts me implicitly, has given me many honours and privileges for serving him dutifully. And if you join as I have, you can work your way up as well, and earn the same honour as I have. The honour of protecting the Dark Lord’s secrets and to take his confidence.

Your Sister,

Bellatrix Lestrange

Draco’s eyes widened as he read the letter which all but confirmed she had no problem murdering their grandfather or cousin in order to set their family onto a path of “enlightment”.

But it was the last few paragraphs which led to him standing up abruptly, catching Hermione’s eye, and leading her out of the Great Hall.

When they were far enough, he stopped and placed up privacy spells.

“What is it?” she asked him, looking slightly worried. He held up the letter to her, and she read it silently to herself, covering her mouth in shock as she read the blatant disregard for the life of their family.

“She has the cup of Helga Hufflepuff,” Hermione said in shock, coming to the same realization as Draco. “She has the horcrux.”

Chapter Text

To say breaking into Gringotts was on their list of things not to do this time around was an absolute understatement. It had barely gone well when Hermione, Potter, and Weasley had done it the first time around and he would be damned if he had to ride out of the wizarding bank on the back of a dragon.

“What other choice do we have?” Hermione asked, sounding frustrated. “We need to get the Horcrux one way or another. And we do not have Bellatrix’s wand or even a sample of her hair. But we need to get it if we have any chance of being able to break in and get the cup.”

“The Black family has primacy over the Lestranges,” Draco reminded her. “When Bellatrix married Rodolphus it was a given that they would still report to our family over theirs and swear loyalty to whatever we decide to do. It is why Arcturus can demand Bellatrix not join Voldemort, and why she has to obey.”

“We both know she already joined him,” Hermione retorted.

“And thus broke the bond of her marriage vows in which it was sworn that they would continue to follow the Head of the Black family,” Draco smirked. “Our family is far more ancient and noble than theirs and we can demand such things. I wouldn’t be surprised too if the cup was not in the marital account that Arcturus had set up for her to provide them a provision of money to set up their life together. As such, Arcturus also has access to the account. We have more than enough between the primacy and account holder to be able to get into the account legally.”

“Which means bringing your grandfather on board,” Hermione said with a sigh.

“Do you know any better way?” Draco asked her softly, taking her hand in his. “You did what you had to do last time, Hermione. And no one is doubting how brilliantly you pulled it off, all things considered. But we do not want to draw attention to us, not yet. We still don’t have the locket and the diary even if we are successful today. We need to make sure he doesn’t panic and create anything else. The best thing to do is to talk to Grandfather.”

“We’ll have to tell my father eventually then too,” Hermione sighed. “It wouldn’t be right to keep it from one and not the other.”

“I agree,” Draco nodded. “So we talk to Grandfather. Give him the bare minimum details for now. Just that there is a dark object, we need to get it, and it is tied to Voldemort’s survival and demise. After we get it, we’ll tell them both the truth. The entire truth. It’s time we told them.

When they gathered Arcturus, asking for a private meeting with him during the Christmas holidays, Draco’s grandfather had frowned but nodded, leading them both into his study.

“Should I ask what it is about that the two of you wish to meet with me about,” Arcturus asked after a few moments of silence. “Is there something you wish to tell me about the nature of your relationship?”

Hermione blushed immediately at the implication, and Draco simply shook his head, though smirking internally.

“That is not what we are here to discuss, Grandfather,” Draco said softly. “Bellatrix has sent me a letter. I think it is better that you read it directly.”

Arcturus frowned, as his eyes moved over the parchment that Draco had handed him.

“I see. I feared she would join him anyways, regardless of what I asked of her. I am saddened to see direct proof that she disobeyed my orders and joined him. I am even more unhappy with the implications in her letter about mine and Sirius’ lives,” Arcturus said, tensely. “However I take it that this is not all. You would not both have come for something as such.”

“You are correct,” Draco said softly. “The confidence he placed in her isn’t simply in emotions. He has given her a dark object. A horcrux, which his very mortality is tied to. The only way to ever bring down Voldemort is to destroy all of them.”

“How is it that you have come upon this information?” Arcturus asked, sounding stunned.

“I cannot tell you,” Draco said softly. “Not yet. I promise, Hermione and I will reveal everything in time. But it is critical we obtain this object as soon as possible, if we are to have any chance of one day bringing down Voldemort.”

“I see,” Arcturus said, looking at the two of them, and Draco could see him thinking carefully over his next actions. “And I believe you have come to me because you need me to help you obtain this object? Due to being the one who created her vault, and being able to use primacy of marriage to do so?”

“Yes, Grandfather,” Draco nodded.

Arcturus nodded pensively. “We shall go first thing in the morning. Make sure you are both ready by then and I shall pick you up in order to do so.”

He had arrived early that morning, enough so that Fleamont had raised questions about what it was that his daughter needed to be off doing in private with him and his grandfather. But Arcturus hadn’t said anything, simply mentioning to him to come by later that afternoon, and that everything would be discussed then. Fleamont had looked unhappy, but hadn’t bothered fighting it any more than that, allowing his daughter to go off on whatever mission.

“I would like to check in on the Lestrange account,” Arcturus said calmly, and Draco placed his hand in Hermione’s, knowing she was tense as she remembered he last time they had gone down to the vault. “The one I set up for my granddaughter for her marriage. I would like to see how it is faring and make note of some of the inventory.”

“Wand please,” the goblin at the counter said, without question. It wasn’t an uncommon thing to do for a Head of House to check on marital vaults, and Draco knew from his sister that his grandfather had generously added more money to their marital vault after the birth of Nymphadora.

Arcturus handed over his wand and after a few minutes of examination, the goblin nodded. “Follow me.”

Draco led Hermione behind his grandfather as they sat in the carts to head toward the vault in question.

“It’s going to be okay,” Draco murmured to her in a low voice that neither the goblin nor Arcturus could hear. “What happened last time will not happen this time around. We are not thieves, we are entering legally.”

She nodded softly, and he squeezed her hand tightly in reassurance.

The cart came to a halt as the Goblin opened the vault and remained behind as the patrons entered.

“What is it that we are looking for?” Arcturus asked, as he entered first.

“The cup of Helga Hufflepuff,” Hermione said, and Arcturus raised a brow.

“He couldn’t have chosen a simple gauntlet?” Arcturus asked in exasperation. “He would choose something of the sort.”

“Sir if I may, the cup should be placed on a precarious position on the top of a plate set to topple over,” Hermione said softly, “If we simply levitate it off we should be able to get the cup.”

“Do I want to ask how you know such a thing if this is the first time you have entered this vault?” Arcturus asked her.

“Later, Grandfather,” Draco assured him. “Later, we will explain everything.”

He simply shook his head as Hermione made her way carefully through the vault. Despite the fact that they had been granted access, he would not put it past his sister to have placed hexes on the objects in her vault.

“There!” Hermione cried out, as she pointed to the cup, exactly where she had described it to be. Gingerly, she levitated it down, until it was at the same level as the three of them.

“We need somewhere we can store it,” Draco said, remembering what Hermione had mentioned about a Flagrante Curse placed on the contents of the vault.

Arcturus pulled out sack from his robes. “This will keep it safe,” he explained to them. “It is an old family heirloom to protect against dark magic. Salazar knows we have enough cursed objects in our own vaults.”

Hermione nodded as she levitated the cup over the sack.

“Wait,” Draco stopped them. “We need to leave something here so she doesn’t suspect we have taken it. We cannot have Voldemort knowing yet what has happened. Not until we have all the horcruxes destroyed. Geminio.”

The cup duplicated, and Draco levitated it carefully back to where the original had been, while Hermione dropped the horcrux into the bag carefully.

“It is a shame he imbued such evil magic into such a significant object,” Arcturus grimaced. They headed towards the door of the vault carefully, where the goblin remained.

“Please transfer the sum of galleons I had set up in here upon my granddaughter’s marriage back into the Black family vault,” Arcturus instructed. “Leave anything which she acquired on her own in here. She no longer has the right to the Black family fortune.”

“Grandfather?” Draco questioned, and Arcturus shook his head. “Later. First we must drop Hermione off with her father. Then we must have a family meeting to discuss what this will mean for our family.”

Hermione didn’t say anything as Fleamont side-alone apparated her back to her house.

“We will discuss what happened here later,” Arcturus told the two of them sternly. “I see we have much to discuss. However I need to take care of some family business first.”

’

Said family business occurred a few hours later when Draco found himself in the Black Manor surrounded by his siblings, cousins, parents, and aunt and uncle. Walburga was glaring viciously at Sirius, sure that the meeting must have something to do with him, while Sirius looked passive, despite the fact that he feared the same. Andromeda sat at the table, holding her child in her arms, while Narcissa sat there, poised as perfectly as usual.

“It has come to my intention that there are those who have not heeded my stance on this war and have gone behind my back to disobey my orders,” Arcturus said as he approached the room, throwing the letter Draco had showed him onto the table.

His sister instantly paled, as she recognized her own hand on the table.

“Bellatrix Lestrange, do you deny sending such a letter to your brother?” Arcturus asked in a deep, but calm voice.

“No,” she said, anger filling her, as she must have realized that it was he who had shown Grandfather the letter.

“Do you deny that you have taken part in such an organization? That you have taken part in the murder and torture of innocents?”

“No,” Bellatrix’s voice rose. “I do not deny it. Why should I when it was doing what was right? I am making a difference in this world! I am taking a stand for what I believe in! Why should I be denied my right to do so? I will not be ashamed for such a thing!”

“What about the fact that you all but declared that mine and my heir’s death could be made to look like an unfortunate accident?” Arcturus said, radiating anger. “You have directly disobeyed my orders. You have gone against what this family has stood for. You have planned the treacherous murder of both myself and my heir, thus threatening the House of Black. And as such, you no longer have a place in this family. It is my duty to announce that you no longer are a Black, by name, by law, and by magic itself.”

The family looked rattled, Sirius never having seen it coming, Regulus stunned by what their grandfather had said. Andromeda saddened, and Narcissa stoic as ever. The parents looked displeased by Arcturus actions.

“You cannot do that!” Bellatrix argued. “I am a Black! You cannot take my magic from me.”

“You should have thought of that before you dishonoured our house. I fear there is no place for you here anymore. Let this be a lesson to all those who decide to disobey my will.”

Bellatrix stood, trying to raise her wand in protest, but found herself unable to cast any spells.

“This room is only for Blacks,” Arcturus shook his head. “Your magic is useless here, Bellatrix.”

His sister turned and angrily left the room.

Hermione sat nervously in Arcturus’ study as her mother sat beside her. Both of them were looking at her carefully, trying to figure out what it was that she and Draco had been keeping a secret from them, and what it had been that caused her to have to go out with Draco and his grandfather just a few days after Christmas.

“It’s going to be okay,” her mother said softly, “Whatever it is, your father and I are here for you, my Darling.”

“I know,” she said, as her mother squeezed her hand and smiled at her gently.

“Euphemia, Fleamont,” Arcturus said, with a voice of surprise as he entered the room followed by Draco. “I must admit I am surprised to see you, Sister.”

“It’s my fault,” Hermione interjected softly, “I don’t want to exclude her from this. She has every right to know the truth of what Draco and I are about to say. It concerns her too, unfortunately.”

“Is this about you and Draco being together?” Her father asked, with a slight frown.

“No, not in the way you think,” Hermione said softly, “It has to do with Draco and I, but not our relationship now.”

Draco nodded, “It’s hard to explain,” he said with a sigh, as he sat down beside her, and Arcturus took his behind the desk.

“Start at the beginning,” her mother said, in an encouraging tone.

“I’m not your daughter,” Hermione murmured softly, causing Euphemia and Fleamont to frown at her.

“Of course you are,” Euphemia said, looking confused. “I carried you for nine months. I gave birth to you. Of course you are my daughter.”

“I’m your daughter, but not because of how time was supposed to happen,” Hermione said, slightly unsure of how she should proceed. “Draco and I cast a spell in the year 2000, to come back in time, me as a child of the House of Potter, and Draco as a child of House of Black.”

“Why?” Fleamont asked, sounding slightly stunned. “If what you say is true, why did you need to come back in time to be born as our children?”

“There was a war,” Draco said softly, taking over for Hermione as he could tell it was difficult for her to talk about. This war, the war that is going on all around us.”

“It lasts that long?” Arcturus asked, displeasure colouring his tone. “Nothing was able to end it before then?”

“It ended in 1981,” Hermione said. “After Voldemort listened to a prophecy claiming that there was one who could defeat him. Born to a couple who defied him three times, born in either late July or early August. And on October 31^st, 1981, it ended when Voldemort sought out that couple and the child, murdering them, but unable to kill the child when his magic rebounded and hit him instead.”

“Who,” Euphemia whispered. “Who was the couple, and the child?”

“James and Lily Potter, died trying to protect their son, Harry James Potter,” Hermione said and her mother broke out into sobs.

Fleamont put his arm around her. “Tell us everything,” he instructed his daughter. “Please, Hermione. Tell us everything that happened, and why you had to come back in time. It must not have been the end of it if the both of you are here.”

“Harry grew up with his aunt and uncle,” Hermione said, throat closing. “Lily’s sister. They weren’t kind to him, and he did not know the truth of his heritage until Hagrid showed up on his eleventh birthday with his Hogwarts letter. I was born Hermione Granger, a muggleborn, and I met him on the Hogwarts Express. We weren’t friends right away, I was a bit-”

She cut off and Draco looked at her fondly.

“Swooty,” he filled in, and she looked at him affronted.

“I was not swooty!” she argued.

“You were, Hermione,” he said with a grin. “Weasley thought you were a know it all, and Potter didn’t say anything contrary.”

“Voldemort wasn’t defeated permanently that day in 1981,” Hermione said, getting back to the story. “He left Harry marked, with a lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead. He didn’t do anything however, until our first year, 1991, when he held possession of a professor at the school. He wanted to try and obtain the Philosopher’s stone, which Dumbledore had taken possession of from Nicholas Flammel to hide in the school. We became friends when Harry and Ron Weasley saved me from a troll that Quirrel, the possessed professor, used it as a distraction to try and go after the stone,” Hermione said. “He tried many times that year, failing ultimately when the boys and I went after him ourselves, as Dumbledore was gone from the school and the professors didn’t believe us. Harry saved us all, when Quirrell tried to take the stone from him, as he had a protection spell around him from Lily, as she died protecting him.”

“You were just children,” Euphemia whispered. “It shouldn’t have been up to you.”

“Harry often had to carry the burden of the world,” Hermione said sadly, “He should have had a better life; he deserved far more.”

“It gets worse, doesn’t it?” Arcturus asked, closing his eyes.

“With every year,” Draco nodded. “I was born Draco Malfoy.”

“Narcissa’s child?” Arcturus asked, and Draco nodded. “Was that why you were against her marriage to him?”

He nodded, and she knew he couldn’t explain; not yet anyways. “In second year, my father released a diary into the school through Ginny Weasley. One belonging to Tom Riddle. It possessed his memory, and it possessed the girl, causing her to open the Chamber of Secrets.”

“I as petrified,” Hermione said softly. “By the basilisk in the chamber. Dumbledore was ousted from the school by the Board of Governors. Harry and Ron went to the chamber when Riddle brought Ginny into it, meant to take her life magic and bring himself back. They defeated the serpent, destroyed the diary and saved Ginny.”

“It happened like that year after year,” Draco explained, as he told the story of the fate of Sirius Black.

“He wouldn’t do that,” Euphemia jumped to the boy’s defense. “Sirius is his brother. He would never betray him that way.”

“He didn’t,” Hermione assured her mother. “He was meant to be a ruse to protect the true Secret Keeper, Peter Pettigrew. But Pettigrew betrayed James and sold them out to Voldemort. No one knew of the ruse, and Sirius was falsely imprisoned. He was never claimed innocent until his death.”

Arcturus looked furious at that. “Why did I never clear his name?”

“There was no evidence, and well, the two of you weren’t on good terms. Dumbledore claimed him to be a traitor, and it was believed,” Draco said softly.

“Voldemort was resurrected in our fourth year, using Horcruxes. They contained pieces of his soul so he was immortal. He kept his return a secret for a year, and Harry was slandered by the Ministry who didn’t want to believe he could be back. By our sixth year, the war was brewing and it was similar to now, with attacks on muggles, on witches and wizards, and everyone who opposed him. By our seventh year it was a war,” Hermione said softly. “We had to leave school, Harry, Ron and I. It wasn’t safe for muggleborns anymore. And well, it was well known that Ron and I were friends with Harry, so we went with him to help him bring down Voldemort”

Draco snorted, “He would have been dead in a minute without you by his side.”

She smiled at him, “Harry was everything to me. He was my brother, my best friend, my closest confidant. I loved him more than anything. We hunted the horcruxes down, destroy them, as the sword of Godric Gryffindor had been imbued with basilisk venom when Harry had slayed it with the sword. We stood against Voldemort on May 2^nd, 1998, and Voldemort ultimately fell.”

“It didn’t end though,” Draco said quietly. “The damage was done. The side that followed him believed too strongly in his views and wanted to continue on. Harry Potter had been a horcrux himself, a piece of Voldemort’s soul trapped in him in 1981 when Voldemort sought him out. He had gone to Voldemort, to give himself up so everyone else still had a chance to live. My mother, she had lied to Voldemort when asked to confirm if Harry had died. And for that, after it all was over, Bellatrix killed her, while my father watched and said nothing. He took over the Ministry of Magic and brought laws to prevent muggleborns from succeeding. Their voices were silenced. He employed the Aurors to prevent them from doing anything. And eventually he stopped them from entering the wizarding world all together. It turned to a war once more, and what was worse was that magic was dying. There was not enough new blood coming in, and too many deaths had occurred. Our world as we knew it would soon end.”

“Draco found a ritual in the Black library which would allow him to come back in time, to the Black family in 1972. I didn’t have any family I could go back to, not any that would make a difference. But Harry, he was my brother, my family. He couldn’t go back, claiming it would be too painful. And after the life he lived, he deserved not to keep fighting any longer. He used magic to adopt me, so I would be his sister in magic as well. And as such I could come back as Potter. The day we woke up, it was 1972, and we were about to start school.”

Her throat closed, “I’m sorry, Mum, Dad. I’ve been lying to you all these years. Letting you think I was your daughter when I really wasn’t. But you’ve been so wonderful to me, and I love you so much.”

She hadn’t even noticed she was crying until her mother wiped her tears.

“Ritual or not, you still are my daughter, Darling. Magic gave you to us. You have made our lives so much better, and we have cherished every day we had with you and your brother. I wouldn’t trade it for anything,” she murmured to her.

“You are ours,” Fleamont said feverently. “It doesn’t matter how it was that it came to be. You are still my daughter. And you’ve had to face a terrible burden on your own.”

“We have known that there was something different about the two of you for a long time,” Arcturus told them gently, “We did not know what, but it explains the difference in your aura. We will help you in your quest, for we too have spent many months trying to bring an end to this Voldemort.”

“How many of these horcruxes do you have now?” Fleamont asked them. “I assume it was what you were doing today?”

“We have obtained the cup of Helga Hufflepuff, the ring of the Gaunts, and the diadem of Ravenclaw. In our time, there was seven, including the Diary of Tom Riddle, the Locket of Salazar Slytherin, his pet snake, and Harry himself. As the last two do not still exist, there are still two more we need to obtain,” Hermione said softly.

“What’s changed?” Euphemia asked carefully. “It is clear Pettigrew will not be a secret keeper this time around if it comes to it.”

“Bellatrix has been ousted from the family,” Draco offered, and Hermione looked at him in surprise. “It just happened. And Severus is friends with us this time around, meaning that he cannot deliver the prophecy to Voldemort. Regulus will not be pressured into being made a Death Eater, and as such will not be given a horcrux as he was last time around. He’s also gathered support within his own house of those willing to stand with us, instead of just following orders.”

“Are you going to face him?” Fleamont asked, looking angry all of a sudden. “At the end of all of this, are you going up against him?”

“Dad,” she said softly, “I have to. It has to be us. We need to bring him down. I can’t let Jamie die knowing what I know.”

“You are a child!” he said furiously. “Why is it up to you?”

“She’s also lived longer than she may appear,” her mother said softly, “She had reached age of maturity already before coming back. This was always hers and Draco’s mission, even if we don’t like it.”

Fleamont took a deep breath, “Then you will be trained over the summer. You and your brother both. It’s time you learned how to use your family magic.”

She nodded and Draco squeezed her hand. At least it had gone far better than she had hopped.

Chapter Text

Bellatrix Lestrange was furious to say in the least. Furious that she had been kicked out of her family, simply for following her heart and doing what it was that made her happy. She had just been living her life and make the most of the situation that had been given to her.

Why was it when Andromeda followed her heart and married a mudblood, the family praised her? When she got knocked up with a half-blood, her family welcomed it in with welcome arms, her own mother cooing over her first grandchild, and her father, her cold stoic father, moved slightly by the toddler who could change her hair and appearance at will.

Narcissa was allowed to marry her wanker of a husband and live a simple life where all she would be good for was popping out children and throwing society parties with all the other good pureblood wives, having no importance in society and being forgotten as quickly.

Even her youngest sibling, Draco, was free to have his own thoughts and opinions. But when it came from him, her grandfather listened eagerly, curious to see what it was that the young boy had to say without question. It was because of her younger brother and his own naïve opinions that Arcturus had decided not to stand with her Dark Lord, knowing fully well that it was the only thing that Bellatrix had wanted. She had gotten married so she could stand with him. She had left her family for him. And here they were, turning their back on her, simply because it was not what they wanted.

And she hated it.

It was unfair.

Why was it that when she wanted to have something for her own, to live a life of her own, she had gotten in trouble for it? Why was it that she was being punished simply for wanting something so different from her family?

When had they turned so good?

It was the Black family legacy she had grown up on. On dark curses and hexes; on killing of innocent lives simply because they had bothered coming onto Black property. On how her family was ancient enough to remember that muggles brought nothing but pain, death, and destruction to their doorsteps. That they had killed so many innocent wizards and witches. And her family, her family who had once nearly been killed completely by muggles, the same family who had pushed for the Statute of Secrecy to defend themselves, the family who had members who turned muggle hunting into a pass-time, when really it was a therapy based on their history; that family, wanted to stand with the muggles? The muggles who if they even knew about their existence still, would be campaigning for their death?

Why was she in the wrong simply because she had listened to the stories told to her while growing up? Because she remembered the pain that came with muggles. And because she wanted nothing to do with them?

And it had gotten her kicked out of the family.

“I don’t get why you’re making such a big deal of it.” Rodolphus said, as he came behind her in their bedroom. One of the many stipulations of their marriage, that they would share a room and a bed. “You haven’t been a Black since you married me. You still have my name, Bella.”

“They took my family magic!” she turned at him angrily. “It’s not just about the name that they stripped me of! They took the part of my magic that gives me the ability to fight as well as I do.”

“You still have been just as vicious in battle,” Rodolphus tried to assure her.

“Only because it is of my own talent,” she snarled. “I have lost everything. My marital vault contents that Grandfather passed to me, my right to the Black properties and inheritances, my name, my access to our magic. All because I know what is best for our family. And that old fool cannot see that his salvation is right in front of him. Instead he fights at every turn, blocks our legislation at every turn.”

“You are not left empty handed,” he reminded her, “The Lestranges may not be as ancient or noble, but we do have decent vaults ourselves. We have our own inheritances, and titles. Our own magic and strengths. Just because they cast you out does not mean you are left with nothing.”

“It means everything to me,” she whispered. “I cannot use your family magic as you can, Rodolpus. It was never mine to use. Our children one day could. But not me. I am left as powerless as a mudblood.”

“We both know you could never be as weak as one of them,” he said, wrapping his arms around her in reassurance. “Your strength is not solely from your family magic, but from yourself. You are just as capable of a witch with it as you are without it.”

She leaned against her husband. He may not hold her heart, not anywhere near the same way that her Lord did. But he was hers in name, and he was the one offering her comfort at this moment.

“I want him dead,” she said, hissing slightly against him. “I want him and Sirius both dead. Mother and Father would pressure Draco into bringing me back into the family. They wouldn’t let me remain without a name. But more importantly, I want him dead for what he put me through. I want him dead because of the pain he made me feel. And I want to make him hurt just as badly.”

Her husband nodded at her, as he kissed her shoulder gently, and pushed her straps of her nightgown in a downwards direction.

“Okay,” he said between peppered kisses against her skin. “If it is what you want, then we will kill him. I don’t think the Dark Lord will disagree, especially if it helps deliver him the Blacks into his fold. We’ll make sure he suffers for the pain he put you through.”

She moaned at his words, and not just from the way he was ushering her towards their bed, and she let her anger consume her as she pulled her husband on top of her.

Victory would be hers.

Prefect duty for Hermione Granger had been the epitome of happiness. It had been someone showing that they trusted her with power and responsibility and entrusting her to carry out the school rules in their place. It had been teachers placing their faith in her to be fair to those of all houses, and to ensure that she would not disabuse her power, such as one Draco Malfoy would and had indeed done.

Of course, it had lost its enticement early on as soon as Umbridge had stood first at that podium and all but said the school was now under Ministry control, and she had put into play her own set of student leaders who were meant to carry out her rule. The Inquisitorial Squad, who had been allowed to do whatever they wanted, and wreak havoc on the school.

However this time around as Hermione Potter, there was no evil professor controlling their every moves. Because as annoying and opinionated as Dumbledore was, who went out of his way to shame Slytherin at every turn, he do as much harm as Umbridge had done.

But the thing about being Hermione Potter with prefect duty was that she also happened to be assigned Draco Black. And as they hardly could discuss their plans for the looming future ahead of them, especially when they had been tasked with making sure they were no students out of bed or breaking any other house rules in the process, it meant she simply got to spend time with her boyfriend.

And as Draco slipped his hand through hers, she smiled softly.

“What’s got you in such a good mood?” he asked her teasingly as she blushed softly.

“I’m just,” she started softly, “I’m glad we get to do this. I was wrong before when I thought I needed to run away from my feelings because they were distracting. You were right, it is important to live in our new world too. And I’m glad I get to have even a moment with you where we can simply just pretend we’re normal students.”

He stopped and cupped his hand on her face, as she drew near to him.

“We can always pretend to be regular students a little more,” he murmured, “There’s a corner at the end of this hall, an alcove that’s relatively hidden from sight if you would like to go there and experience being a true student with me.”

“Are you asking me to snog you in the school after curfew when we’re supposed to be on prefect duty?” she asked slightly affronted.

“Which means we have every right to be in these halls,” he nudged her gently, “Besides, we’ll still finish our rounds after. But right now, I would much rather be doing other stuff with you, especially given how little time I had to spend with you over the break.”

She nodded slightly at that. Her mother and father had let Sirius and Regulus stay over for the break, but after her revelation to them, they had wanted to make sure that she understood that they cared for her and insisted on family bonding activities. It had been sweet of them, if not a little tiring after a while. But she had appreciated why they were doing it.

He pulled her hand gently towards the corner, and when they drew closer she was met with the sight of Remus and Sirius, dishevelled as Sirius had his hands over Remus’ arse, and Remus was very much trying to tug of Sirius’ shirt.

“Please stop!” she said suddenly, causing the two boys to break apart from each other and give her a sheepish look.

“I didn’t know you were on prefect duty tonight, Hermione,” Remus said, scratching the back of his head as he looked sheepish.

“Would it have stopped you?” she retorted, “You’re supposed to be a prefect! Not standing there breaking the rules, with Sirius.”

“Are you jealous, Kitten?” Sirius asked winking at her. “Would you rather it was you here instead with me, instead of Remus? I hate to break it to you, Love, but I am happily very much spoken for.”

Remus shook his head, but a smile graced his face. “We both know she doesn’t want you, Sirius. She’s happy with your cousin.”

“And it’s gross,” she said face turning. “You’re my brother’s friends! You’re both practically my brothers! I don’t want to kiss either of you.”

“I should hope not,” Draco said, giving his cousin an unamused look. “I’d rather you not try and seduce my girlfriend, thank you very much. I had a hard enough of a time convincing her to go out with me. I don’t need you trying to take her away when we both know you are very much happy with your own partner.”

“I don’t want to date him!” she exclaimed looking at Draco. “Just go to bed, please, the both of you!”

“Or what?” Sirius asked her teasingly.

“Or I’ll tell Jamie what I caught the two of you doing and that you nearly soiled my innocent mind,” she said blinking as she gave Sirius a doe eyed expression, knowing very much that he would be terrified of what James would do in such a case.

“Very good point,” Sirius nodded solemnly, “We shall see you both in the morning at breakfast.”

“Don’t let us catch you anywhere else!” Draco yelled after his cousin.

She sighed after they both had left, “I can’t believe Sirius! He’s practically my brother! And Harry’s godfather! That’s disgusting.”

“How about we stop talking about my cousin,” Draco asked her softly, as he nudged her towards him, wrapping his arms around her waist and drawing her close to him. “I could think of some other things to do with you instead.”

“Oh?” she said breathlessly, and he pulled her close as his lips crashed against hers. And just like that, prefect duty, and all thoughts of Sirius Black were set aside.

It was near the end of January when Draco sat beside her on their spot in the library where they went when they didn’t want to be disturbed. He pulled his chair next to hers, as she looked up from the book she had been reading and smiled at him. He had passed a note to her between classes asking to meet at their spot after dinner and knew fully well if anyone else saw it they would simply think that the two of them were off snogging.

He quickly put of all their wards and spells to secure the area and she closed her book gingerly.

“I’ve been thinking,” he murmured to her, as he turned to face her. “We knew that the cup and the diary probably came into play around the same time, given that they were given to Lucius and Bella. The fact that Bellatrix had the cup means that both it and the diary would have been given out in this time then. So if Bella had the cup, and we know that by now Lucius is most likely a Death Eater, then it stands to reason that he most likely has the diary already. And if such is the case, we should be able to acquire it shortly, and hopefully without him realizing it.”

She nodded along, as she figured it would make sense that at the time Voldemort entrusted two of his horcruxes to his most two trustworthy followers.

“Except for one thing,” Hermione reminded him gently. “That day when we were captured all those years ago and brought to Malfoy Manor, your aunt was stunned to see that we had the Sword of Godric Gryffindor since she placed it in her vault for safe keeping. And she was worried of what else we could have taken. She trusted her vault as the safest place to keep her possessions, and as such would have been likely to have kept the sword there from the beginning. It was that logic we used to assume that the Cup would have still been there at this time, as if she had it and wanted to keep it safe, it would be the best place for it.”

“But that being said,” she continued after a moment, “We never knew where your father kept the Diary before it entered Ginny’s possession. Just that he wanted to discredit Arthur Weasley due to the fact that he was working on the Muggle Protection Act. He also was hoping it would get rid of Dumbledore. But he never knew the truth of what the item was, just that it was dark and given to him by the Dark Lord for safe keeping. And while Voldemort is confirmed to be alive, there isn’t a chance in Hell that Lucius would try such a thing. Even if it was for his own advancement.”

Draco sighed at that. “You’re right. I didn’t think about that.”

“You are right about the fact that there is a good chance Voldemort has given the diary to your father then,” Hermione acknowledged. “Do you ever remember seeing it growing up? I highly doubt he would have left it laying around were anyone could find it. But was it ever in his study or anywhere else that you could think of that he might have used for safe keeping?”

Draco shook his head at that, “I was never allowed into his study as a child. Father didn’t want me in his way when I was younger. He always made sure to mention that I was far too young to get involved, so Mother raised me for the most part. Despite that, he still hated when she coddled me, and would insist that I would never properly grow up. Only his business associates were ever allowed in there, but I guess now that I’m older, I realize they weren’t just business associates half the time, but those who once also served under Voldemort with him.”

Hermione looked at him curiously. He rarely talked about his upbringing in the past, and she found that she had known very little about it. She knew that he loved his mother, so the fact that she had raised him by herself didn’t surprise Hermione. He had always spoken about his mother in a gentle tone in comparison to the anger he had felt for Lucius.

“Do you think your Grandfather would be able to do anything similar to what he did with Bellatrix and pull primacy?” Hermione asked, with the faintest amount of hope. “Given the fact that the Malfoys are not as old of a family as the Blacks?”

Draco shook his head, “They might not be, but the Malfoys are far wealthier and influential in society than the Blacks. While neither family explicitly has primacy over the other, it wouldn’t work if Grandfather tried anything since they could as easily dispute the claim. And given the fact that we have no idea where the diary is hiding, we wouldn’t be able to do it as easily. Not without tipping off Voldemort of what we were up to. And without the locket, it isn’t worth considering doing. Especially given the fact that Voldemort could as easily make more horcruxes if he were worried.

“I don’t know why he would want to,” Hermione shuddered, “It does horrible things to one’s soul to create them. By him making so many Horcruxes, he leaves himself with very little humanity. I’m surprised he hasn’t been driven insane.”

“He hunted down a baby,” Draco pointed out, “Harry only defeated him because his mother died to save him. But if Lily didn’t die, then Harry would have been a goner. In no universe is an unarmed baby any threat to a Dark Lord. And yet, Voldemort hunted him down as if he were one anyways.”

She nodded at that.

“Maybe we can use his paranoia to our advantage when it is time. Stop him from hunting down others. Plus it will help bring down the amount of fear around him if there were rumours of someone or something that could defeat him,” Hermione said softly.

“We’ll deal with that when we get to it,” Draco said, squeezing her hand. “But for now, we need to figure out how best to get close to my father so we can get the horcrux.”

She nodded. The last two horcruxes would be the hardest to obtain, and she knew what they faced after would be far worse.

Lily Evans was nervous. Well, nervous would be an understatement to how she was feeling. She was going to be sick, really. Why did she think that this was a good idea? It was a terrible idea. She should turn around now, crawl into bed, and pretend that she never had this horrible idea in her mind.

It was Hermione Potter’s fault really. She had gone and put it into her mind that maybe she hadn’t been utterly ridiculous in her feelings for James Potter, and maybe there was a chance that the boy had cared for her too, genuinely cared for her and not just pursued her out of some sort of amusement, just as she felt for him. And now she was standing there, waiting for James to return from detention where he had landed himself after being smart with Professor McGonagall about why he hadn’t finished his homework.

It was one of the rare times where James would be alone, what with Remus and Sirius off in some corner of the school together, and Hermione busy with Regulus and Draco Black as they studied for their upcoming OWLs.

He came in looking tired, as he had his glasses off and he rubbed his eyes. She felt her heart soar slightly at the sight of how cute he looked, and for a fleeting second she considered not saying anything and just letting it be. He was clearly tired after all. But she quickly crushed the thought. She owed it to herself to at least try and see if he returned her feelings. And if he didn’t, she would pretend she had never did anything about it, regardless of how much he may tease her about it.

“Can I speak to you for a second?” she felt herself asking, as she approached him. She felt her heart racing as James blinked at her in surprise.

“Is this about Sirius sneaking into the girls dorm to steal shampoo since he ran out? Because I had nothing to do with that, honest,” James said looking sheepish.

“He did that?” she raised her brow, “Marlene has been furious that her favourite shampoo ran out and she’s been accusing the other girls of taking hers. Dorcas hexed her after the accusation.”

“Er-no, pretend I said nothing then,” James quickly covered.

The two of them headed out of the common room, her blood pounding as she pulled him towards a hidden corner where others tended not to walk by.

“I’m starting to think you brought me here to murder me, Evans,” he joked, eyes twinkling. “You didn’t actually bring me here to murder me, did you? Because I think Hermione might be slightly upset with you. Merlin knows I’d probably deserve it though.”

“I’m to murder you!” she said heatedly. Merlin, maybe this was a bad idea. “I just. I don’t know what do to anymore, Potter. You just…you’re just so you. You’re so bloody annoying and I can’t take it anymore. You’re an absolute prat! You’re constantly disrupting class! You got detention for it today and everything! And your pranks! They’re constantly in the way and end up affecting our days so much in ways you can’t understand.”

“Did you just bring me here to rant about how much you can’t stand me?” he asked, raising a brow at her. “Because I completely understand if you did, but I probably should sit down if so, cause that could take a while.”

She ignored him, continuing on. “And you just care so much for Hermione, it’s amazing. My sister doesn’t love me a fraction of how much you love her. You’d do anything for her, if just to make her smile for a moment. I’ve seen you, even when others aren’t around to notice. You’re the first to make sure she is doing okay and the first to fight for her. But you also respect her and her boundaries even if it kills you. And then you are so brilliant, even if you apply it to the wrong areas. You’re funny and kind, and it’s so annoying because I want to dislike you, or at least pretend you don’t exist, or even just be your friend. But I can’t. I can’t because it’s just too much with how you are. You’re amazing and it terrifies me, and Merlin I can’t believe you haven’t said anything given how stupid I’ve been acting and the stupid bloody mood ring spell which left me turning pink any time I as much as looked at you or thought of you and I just don’t know what to do anymore.”

He blinked at her, trying to process the babbling mess she had just uttered.

“Lily, do you fancy me?” he asked her slowly, as a grin broke out onto his face.

She felt herself blush instantly at that, and she cursed her complexion for its ability to turn red so quickly.

But James simply beamed at her as he stepped forward to close the gap and brought her face towards his, as her lips moved against his. And in that moment, all talk of how much she fancied him was gone, and just the two of them remained; together.

Chapter Text

As Valentines Day drew closer, Hermione felt herself grow butterflies. It wasn’t that she’d never had a boyfriend before, but she never really had the chance to have a proper boyfriend. How could she when she was busy chasing after Harry and Ron and trying to make sure neither died doing something stupid?

But Draco had asked her on the Hogsmeade weekend, and she found herself standing at her mirror, trying to make sure she looked okay.

She had never cared that much before, but she still felt nervous as she got ready for one of her first actual Valentines dates.

Snogging Victor Krum in the library in her fourth year hardly counted.

“You look fine, Hermione,” Mary told her with a smile, “Draco won’t know what hit him. Now go meet him, I’m sure he’s waiting for you.”

She nodded at her friend. It wasn’t as if it were their first date after all, it had been months since they had started dating. And he knew her better than anyone else.

She took a deep breath as she started down the stairs, only to see James waiting there nervously himself.

“Are you going out with Draco?” he asked her suddenly, as he saw her. “I better not see the two of you snogging behind any stores, Hermione!  I might love you more than anything, but there are definitely some things I do not need to ever see. And that is the number one thing on my list of things I never wish to see.”

“I’m not going to snog him in public,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I could never be one of those people who are okay with that much affection in public.”

“Good,” James said firmly, “Now go on. I’m sure he’s just as nervous as you are. First big date for the both of you, after all.”

She smiled at that, “I’ll see you later, Jamie.”

He kissed her forehead, and she pulled away after a moment to head down to the Great Hall to meet Draco. She felt her heart flutter as she saw him waiting there, his own eyes lighting up at the sight of her.

“You look beautiful,” he said, giving her a soft smile. “Are you ready to go?”

He held his arm out to her, and she slipped hers through his, “What a gentleman,” she teased him.

“My mother did raise me to know how properly to treat a lady,” he said with a smirk. “Anything less is unbefitting for a man of my status.”

“Of course,” she deadpanned, “Why would I have expected anything else?”

“I have no idea,” he grinned at her, as they headed down to the carriages. “How has your morning been so far?”

“The Gryffindor dorms are a mess,” she said with a laugh. “Do you know how many girls were running around trying to find outfits that were perfect for their dates? As if they would be instantly dumped if they looked anything less than perfect. Merlin if one more girl asked me to spell their hair, I might have lost it.”

He helped her into a carriage just then, and she closed the door, grateful to be alone with him and not with other couples.

“What about you?” he asked her with a teasing grin, “Were you not nervous about me dumping you?”

“I’d probably hex you if you dumped me over my hair,” she retorted. “You know how my hair is. You’ve seen it in both lives.”

“True, it’s always been a disaster,” he said seriously. “Merlin, maybe I should have dumped you over your hair. Could you imagine if we had children and they had my hair colour but your hair style? They would look like madmen.”

She hit him lightly, “Our children would have beautiful hair. And if they have hair that’s a disaster, well then they’d just have to learn to live with it, wouldn’t they?”

He pressed his lips to her cheek, “I suppose they would.”

As they arrived in town, he took her hand and led her down a path she hadn’t been to in some time. At least not this way.

“The Shrieking Shack, really?” she asked in surprise as she recognized the route to where they were heading.

“Would you prefer Madam Puddifoot's?” he asked, raising a brow at her, “I know quite a few couples will be there right now, including Regulus and Lucinda Talkalot.”

“Isn’t she far too,” Hermione asked, trying to find a word to describe the rough girl.

“Scary?” Draco supplied, “Terrifying? Demanding? Powerful?”

“She terrifies me a little,” Hermione admitted, “I’ve seen her when you boys play Quidditch. I’m always terrified she’ll knock a bludger and James and hit him off his broom.”

“And yet they went to the cuddliest shop in town,” Draco laughed as they grew closer to the shack.

“You know, the last time the two of us were here together, you were trying to make fun of Ron and I?” Hermione asked her boyfriend. “Until Harry showed up and threw snowballs at you from under his cloak. Merlin, you believed this place was haunted for a moment then.”

“Never mention you and Weasley being together again,” Draco said, pulling a face at her.

“Are you jealous?” she teased, stopping to face him.

“Never,” he said in denial. “I hated Potter and Weasley back then. I hated them so much for how lucky they were to have true friends in each other and in you. In having the Weasleys who genuinely loved and supported them, even though they were too poor to afford anything of value. And yet they still had each other. And you, who was everything my father had drilled in me to hate, and yet everything you did proved him wrong. You were brilliant, strong, and opinionated. You were always right in class, and so far above the rest of us. You were beautiful even when you chose not to care about what anyone else thought of you. You were everything I was supposed to hate, and everything I’ve always wanted.”

“I hated you too,” she said softly, “Even when you fought by our side, because you had stood with them for so long, but I knew you never believed it. I knew you didn’t believe in it when you had to kill Dumbledore. When they made you do those things during the war. Or when you watched when Bellatrix tortured me. But I wanted you more than anything. When we were sent back together I was grateful it was you. Because you understood what was at stake as much as anyone, and you’d fight to make sure it never happened.”

“I hated Potter that day too,” he murmured, “Because I genuinely was terrified while he stood there under an invisible cloak throwing snow balls at me. And the entire time I was convinced the shack really was haunted.”

“I’d protect you,” she said teasingly as she stood on her tip toes to press her lips against his. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

He grinned against her lips as he pulled her back closer to him, his hands wandering down her waist.

“I love you,” he murmured, breathing in. “I love you, Hermione Granger.”

“I love you too, Draco Malfoy,” she said softly.

It was time for them to leave Hogsmeade and she found herself wandering back towards the carriages, her hand in Draco’s as she rested against his shoulder.

Her cheeks were rosy from the snogging and the cold and she knew her hair was probably a lot messier than it had been when she left, but when had her hair ever cooperated with her? She doubted it would be enough for anyone to grow suspicious over such a thing. Besides, all they had done was snog, even if it had gotten slightly heated.

She stopped dead in her tracks however when she saw something in the distance, behind Honeydukes, and Draco halted behind her.

“What is it?” he asked her in surprise, not having expected her sudden stop.

“See something, Kitten?” Sirius asked as he came up from behind her, Remus looking thoroughly snogged as well. Remus blushed slightly when he saw her notice and tried to fix his hair and straighten his robes.

“I see you’ve been busy, Cousin,” Draco noted, smirking at their appearance.

“The same can be said for you,” Sirius retorted, gesturing towards Hermione and she blushed as well. “Now what was it that was so interesting that you stopped dead in your tracks.”

“I thought I saw James behind Honeydukes,” she said, eyes widening. “Do you think he’s here on a date as well?”

“He didn’t say anything,” Remus frowned, “But I suppose it is likely. He didn’t say anything to us, however.”

“We need to go find out!” Sirius exclaimed, as he grabbed hers and Remus’ hand and immediately began pulling them towards the back of the shop. “It’s our duty as Marauders, really!”

“We’re not Mauraders,” Draco pointed out.

“Semantics,” Sirius waved his hand. “You helped out with the map. And you join us once a month. You are as good as.”

She followed him behind the store and gasped as she saw James standing there, with Lily pressed against the store, his hands on her hips as his lips were busy moving against hers.

“IT’S ABOUT TIME!” Sirius exclaimed loudly, and Lily and James broke apart quickly at the source of the noise.

“Er,” James said, running his hands through his hair. “Good to see you guys?”

 “How long has this been going on?” Remus asked smiling at the both of them. “Are you together now, officially?”

“First official outing that didn’t involve a broom closet or any other hidden space,” James said proudly.

“James!” Lily hissed as she smacked him lightly.

“We’ve been together a month,” he said, ignoring her, as he grinned brightly. “She all but told me she was in love with me. Couldn’t resist me really, after that Halloween pranks, so I guess our pranks did help after all!”

“I didn’t say that,” she rolled her eyes, “He’s exaggerating.”

“You like me anyways,” he teased her, and she melted softly.

“I do,” she admitted, and Sirius cheered loudly.

“Nice going mate!” he exclaimed. “You finally landed the bird!”

“Hermione?” Lily said, looking at her nervously.

“I’m glad the two of you are together,” she quickly assured her friend, “Merlin knows I’ve been rooting for the two of you for long enough. Besides, I can always use another hand keeping him in line.”

“Hey!” James complained, and she grinned at him innocently.

“You lectured me about snogging behind stores,” Hermione said dryly, though feeling secretly pleased as she beamed at the sight of them together. Sure, they had gotten together faster than in the last timeline by about a year, but it was about bloody time. “It hardly seems fair, Jamie.”

“Instead the two of you just snogged by the Shrieking Shack,” Sirius snickered, and she grew slightly pale.

“You saw?” she squeaked. And Remus simply gave her a pitying look.

“I made him leave before he had the chance to say anything,” Remus assured her. “I didn’t want him to interrupt when he could have been doing other things.”

“I made the ultimate sacrifice,” Sirius said solemnly, “Choosing to snog my boyfriend over make fun of my little sister.”

She rolled her eyes at that, but she couldn’t help but feel elated. Even if it were only for a moment, her friends were genuinely happy with each other. Even Regulus was on a date, even if she wasn’t sure how she felt about the girl in question. But if it made him happy, then it was worth it in the end. And Severus who despite being immune to Marlene’s flirting seemed to soften slightly at the mention of the girl. Maybe she was over thinking it, but they all did deserve happiness, especially given what was still to come their way.

Peter Pettigrew was annoyed, and that was saying something.

It took a lot to set him off. He hadn’t gotten annoyed when James, Sirius, and Remus had gone off for years talking about how petty their problems were. Not James who complained about Lily Evans not wanting him, without even realizing how sickenly perfect his life was, with a mother and father who adored him and a sister who looked up to him. Or Sirius who would whine about his parents and whatever they said to hurt his feelings without even stopping to think that for even a second that maybe they had a point. That muggleborns were slowly ruining their world by try to make them more muggle so they felt more comfortable. And Remus, who would sit there, mopping over the full moon without realizing how stupid he was being by endangering them all. Like it wasn’t his own fault that they were all joining him every month out of pity.

And he now had found himself bound by a stupid vow he had made years ago in the heat of the moment, thinking that truly it was for the best. That his friends would have been there for him regardless of what they went through.

But they weren’t.

They weren’t there when he was falling so far behind in his classes that his McGonagall penned a letter to his mother in worry. Nor were they there when he was bullied by members from every other house, including their own, for pranks he barely played a role in. Nor were they there when the whispers about how useless he was were spoken behind his back, but always loud enough that he could hear what they were saying, and always enough so that he knew that they did it intentionally.

They weren’t there for him, not like Avery or Nott always were.  And he was annoyed at the fact that the two people who had been there for him through everything were unable to find out the secret that he could not share, simply because of a stupid vow he had made when he was younger.

It seemed to him that something always happened conveniently whenever they had gotten close. And he was thankful, he truly was, that somehow the other boys had not caught on what he was trying to do. He might spend the majority of his time with the Slytherins, but he couldn’t officially move in with them. He still slept in the Gryffindor dorm, but he refused to have anything to do with them. Even though they still pushed and prodded trying to get him to talk to them. Why couldn’t they just take the hint? But the last thing he needed was for them to find out the truth. That he was trying to reveal Remus’ secret and save them all. Because they probably never would forgive him when they found out.

And if they played it right, then Avery and Nott could make the “discovery” on their own and share the information with the right parties.

He snuck behind the two of them, a disillusion charm over them so no one would spot them. He knew the map still posed a danger and he had been working on trying to steal it, but it was proving to be a lot harder than he had hoped. So he always had to stay far enough away that he did not look like he was with them.

They had made it onto the grounds successfully without any of the boys seeing them on the map, and as James put it away, the three of them moved closer, eager to see what it was that happened next.

He watched as Hermione drew her wand and cast a spell that he couldn’t hear, and immediately the tree stopped moving.

“How did she do that?” Avery demanded, looking suspicious. And Peter watched helplessly. It seemed they truly did not need him anymore, as they once had to slip under the branches and touch the knot at the base of the tree to freeze it. One by one they slipped through the opening, leaving Hermione for last as she slipped down.

“It’s still stationary,” Nott breathed, “This could be our chance! We just need to follow them down!”

Peter nodded eagerly. Yes! They were so close to being able to finally get to the truth of what was happening. They just needed to move fast enough. He tried to pick up his pace, running after Avery and Nott, as the two took off sprinting.

Only to land on his face five seconds later, as he tripped over a rock.

For Merlin’s sake! Why couldn’t he even run properly, without wheezing or tripping over bloody everything. He stood quickly, dusting himself off as he took off once more. But they had been a lot further than the others and he knew it would be hard for them to catch up. Not as quickly anyways.

“We’re almost there!” Nott exclaimed. “We just need to get a little further! Then we can finally see what it is that they’re hiding!”

Peter beamed, feeling proud. It had taken months, but they would finally see the truth. They would finally know the horrible secret that he had been forced to keep all this time. He just needed to get a little closer. And then the truth would come out, for good. He moved quicker now, and he was so close he could feel the victory.

“Oh bloody hell!” Avery said, and Peter looked up right as the tree began to move again. But it was too late, they were too close now. So instead, he watched in horror as a massive branch suddenly swung towards them knocking them off their feet and sent them flying backwards.

Merlin that had hurt. He groaned, as he heard Nott swear once more, right as another branch swung their way. And that was the last thing he remembered before darkness overtook him.

Lily Evans was nervous, and she couldn’t help but feel jittery as she sat beside James in the Great Hall.

The two of them had given up keeping their relationship a secret, what was the point when everyone already knew? Marlene, of course, had squealed when she found out, and had exclaimed that she had always known that this was coming. And Severus, who once would have been furious at her for such a thing and simply shaken his head, said it was about time, and returned to his potions book where he rapidly was scribbling notes. Regulus had been indifferent to it, saying that the only couple that had been more insufferable to watch get together had been his cousin and Hermione.

She liked James. She liked that he was goofy and carefree. But he knew when to be serious if the time came. He knew when to joke around and when she truly needed someone to talk to. He listened when she told him about her sister and how insufferable Petunia was being. How she had acted over the winter break and some of the horrid things she had said to Lily. He listened, and he cared about her.

And she was hiding something from him.

“Are you okay?” he murmured to her, as he slipped his hand through hers under the table.

“I need to tell you something,” she whispered, terrified of how he would react.

“Okay?” he asked, not understanding the significance.

“Not here,” she said, desperately. “Can we go somewhere? Anywhere?”

He nodded as he took her hand again gently, and led her out of the hall, the entire time her heat pounded in her chest. She walked with him until they were in an empty classroom and he gently shut the door behind them.

“Are you okay?” he asked her softly, and she looked up at him, unsure of how to tell him the truth about her lineage.

“I haven’t told you something,” she said softly. “I haven’t told anyone really, other than my parents and Hermione. Because I’m not ready for them to know the truth, and I don’t others would react well. But you’re important to me, James. I care about you. I like you. And I want to tell you the truth.”

He cupped her face, “Whatever it is, it won’t change how I feel about you, Lily. We may be young, but I know you’re it for me. Nothing could ever change how much I adore you.”

“I got my lineage traced,” she said softly. “I was talking to Hermione one day, ranting about blood purity and something that had happened, and I was so mad that they were acting as if I’m anything less than them because of who my parents are.”

“You’re not,” he said firmly. “You’re amazing. More talented than all of us, truly.”

“But family magic matters, doesn’t it?” she said, and he didn’t respond. “It matters because it ties us to our bloodlines. It has nothing to do with blood purity but everything to do with where we come from. It’s why inbreeding can cause magic to die out, because there’s not enough new magic coming in. It causes birth defects. It matters. And Hermione explained it to me.”

“My sister did?” James asked in surprise, and she nodded at him.

“She wanted me to understand why it was important. Because no one has ever talked to us about it before. No one tells muggleborns that they can trace their magic. It is why I’ve been trying to encourage others to do so as well. Because it matters. It’s our family, our ancestry. So I got my blood line traced.” Lily murmured. “I’m related to Salazar Slytherin.”

His eyes widened in shock, “I understand why you were afraid,” he said softly.

“You aren’t mad?” she asked, voice wavering slightly. “That it’s him I’m related to? Out of all the families, I’m related to the one who hated muggles more than anything.”

“So does Sirius’ parents,” James said softly, “But Sirius is just fine, isn’t he? Besides, he hated them in a different time. Muggles were a genuine threat to us back then. They killed us just for existing. It’s hardly the same now when we are nothing more than a folklore to them. I could never hate you for who your family is, Lily. But I understand why you wanted to keep it quiet. There are a lot of people who wouldn’t be happy to know. Especially given half the wizarding world is against any sort of half-bloods or muggleborns. And their leader is claiming to be his heir as well.”

“And if somehow I get lordship of the house, I’m a threat,” she said swallowing. “I’m a direct threat to this Lord Voldemort. He’s probably my closest wizarding relative and he might want me dead if he finds out the truth.”

“I would never let anything happen to you,” He said strongly, pulling her into his arms, and wiping away tears she hadn’t even realized were falling. “None of us would.”

She rested her head on his chest, feeling slightly lighter now that she had told him the truth, and he tightened his arms around her.

“You know, my family is related to Godric Gryffindor? Very distantly of course, but related nonetheless,” James said softly.

“Really?” She asked in surprise. “How come no one has ever claimed the lordship?”

“Because a daughter of the house married into the Potter line,” James said. “But no one has been around from the Gryffindor line in a long time, so if we wanted, we have enough claim to it that it could be ours. It’s not our primary family though, so we haven’t. I suppose I could claim it if I wanted and have both. But that would be too much power. It could always go to a second child, like Hermione if she decided to ever claim it. Or even my second child one day if they did.”

“So if we had children, they’d have both Slytherin and Gryffindor blood?” Lily asked, blushing slightly.

“The founders would roll in their graves,” James laughed. “But they were good friends once. So perhaps they’d be happy to see their two houses reconciling after so long.”

“Thank you,” she said softly, kissing him gently. “For being so unbelievably perfect. For listening. For not judging me. And just for being here for me.”

“Always,” he said gently. “I’ll always be here for you, Lily Evans.”

She rested her head against him once more, and he pulled her in closer.

Chapter Text

It was March when Peter Pettigrew began to wonder for the first time in almost a year if he had made the wrong decision of abandoning his friends behind because of their flaws. Because for everything wrong with their relationship, they still had a lot of fun together in the past. He had enjoyed being a part of their group, of planning elaborate pranks and watching the face of amusement of their peers. He had enjoyed getting their envious looks when he walked by. He enjoyed seeing girls look their way longingly, and boys jealously. He had enjoyed getting the praise of teachers, albeit subtly for they could never express the amusement at their pranks openly. He had enjoyed it far more than he’d ever have cared to admit. And now, he was on the outside.

He was on the outside, watching in as James, Remus, and Sirius continued their pranks together. As they seemed not to let it bother them anymore that he wasn’t a part of their group. That they didn’t understand his choice still, but respected that he had made it and stopped pushing. After all, they could only beg him to come back so much.

And now they were almost all coupled up, Hermione with Draco, James with Lily, Remus and Sirius, which he still didn’t understand. It seemed only two of the Slytherins remained unmatched, and yet unnerved by it.

There truly was no place for Peter Pettigrew by their side, even if he wished he still was there with them.

They didn’t seem to miss him anymore, and for some reason that made him hate them all the more. It might have been his decision to leave, yet he had always expected that they would still be begging him to come back. That it would have startled some revelation in them about how right he had been the entire time about his mistreatment. About how right he was about the side they chose to fight on.

And yet all they had done was prove him right. That they truly didn’t need him, and it showed.

Which was why Peter Pettigrew was surprised when Avery and Nott approached him one day when he was sitting in their dorm room, playing a game of gobstones with one of their roommates.

“We need to talk,” Avery said gravely, “And I do not think you are going to like it.”

“What about?” Peter asked, voice shaking. Were they going to tell him to leave as they had tired of his company? Or did it have to do with something else?

“We need to ask you to take on something, a mission of sorts that will be important in the long run. Your first mission for him. It’s something only you can do, and it is important. But it will be hard, given everything that has happened,” Nott said.

Peter sat up straighter. The Dark Lord had personally given him a mission? He had been stunned by that, knowing that the Dark Lord was a busy man, and the lower downs very rarely received their own personal missions, as opposed to being involved in the raids that the higher ups organized.

“What is it?” Peter asked, wavering slightly, wondering just what it was that the Dark Lord could ask him to do.

“You knew Fleamont Potter, correct?” Avery asked, and Peter nodded at that. “He and Arcturus Black are causing quite the uprising in the Wizengamot. And we need someone on the inside who can help pass information about what the two of them are up to. It is rumoured that they often meet in the Potter Manor for their plans. A place I believe, when you were close to Potter, you spent a decent amount of your holidays at.”

“We want you to spy on Fleamont Potter by becoming friends once more with Potter,” Nott said and Peter gulped at that.

Would he be able to do it? Even if they wanted him back as a friend, how did he go back to pretending that nothing was wrong. That the last year hadn’t happened, and that he didn’t despise everything they had stood for? It would be tough to pretend that nothing was wrong. Because deep down, he did miss them.

“You cannot fall for the trap that they will lay on you,” Avery warned. “It is a tough mission. You’ll want to revert to old patterns and let them walk all over you once more. But you cannot do that. Look where it landed you before. And it will be worse in the future. James Potter and Sirius Black are both from wealthy families. And if nothing happen to them, they will be the future Lords of their houses. Remus Lupin, despite his lack of wealth had a decent family standing and is absolutely brilliant. He’ll make it far in the Wizarding world. Easily becoming the head of his own department one day, for whatever it is he chooses to do. Even the mudblood Evans will make it far by her own brains, and with the help of the Potter estate behind her. Hermione Potter and Draco Black, despite being second in line, are rather brilliant themselves, and I would not be surprised if they did not claim a secondary family title to inherit. Regulus Black won’t join our cause, he’s clearly fighting for his Grandfather, and will likely be in politics in the future. Even Severus has claimed his maternal family’s line because he knows it will get him farther than his muggle father’s name. And where will you be if you stay with them?”

“There is no room for you by their side,” Nott sighed softly, “Not as their friend. But both families are ultimately going to side with Dumbledore and against our Lord. You can change things. You can bring them down. You just need to earn their trust once more. And knowing Gryffindors, it should not be hard to do.”

Peter nodded slightly, allowing their words to wash over him. Because they were right. Of course they were.

But what none of them knew was that in the shadows of the Slytherin dorms, their conversation had been overheard by someone else.

Lily Evans was ever so slightly frustrated with her boyfriend. And that had everything to do with the fact that he was once again being absolutely ridiculous in his relationship with her.

On their one-week public anniversary, he had tried to give her a priceless family heirloom, before Hermione had scolded him, saying he should have asked their mother before doing so, much to her relief.

On their one-month anniversary, he had stood up and declared his love for her, as a dozen owls delivered her boxes of chocolates.

On their two-month anniversary, he had gotten fireworks from Zonko’s so he could declare their love in the sky for the world to see.

And now on his birthday he had filled their dorm with hundreds of lilies, because ‘the only present he needed was her undying love’.

And she cared for him, she truly did.

She never felt happier than she had when she was with him. She cared deeply for him, watching him fly, as he didn’t have a care in the word. Or when he truly tried to study, and his hair would get ruffled and ink all over his face from holding his quill to it while he was thinking. Or how his eyes would light up as he pulled off a prank and it went well. Or when a professor asked him a question when they thought he wasn’t paying attention but he got the right answer anyways, and he would beam to himself, truly proud.

He was an absolute dork.

But she liked him anyways.

However she did not need all the attention he insisted on showering on her. Not when there was something almost daily, so he could declare how much he cared about her, and how much he just wanted the world to know.

Bloody Hell, she wouldn’t be surprised if he took out the entire front page of the Daily Prophet one day just so he could declare his affection for her.

And that was everything she did not need. Even if she cared about him.

“James,” Lily said softly, as she entered his dorm room. “Happy Birthday.”

He grinned at her, as he kissed her tenderly. “Did you like my present?”

“I’m the one supposed to be getting you something,” she murmured softly. “It is your birthday, after all.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, “I told you, I don’t need anything but you this year. It’s more than enough.”

She felt her heart flutter at that, as his words washed over her. He was so sweet and so caring, and here she was, feeling annoyed at the ways he showed his affection for her. When really, he was so romantic and just wanted her to know that he cared about her, that he truly cared about her.

“Can I talk to you about something,” she said softly.

He nodded eagerly, as his fingers intertwined with hers. She took a deep breath and looked up at him as she cupped his face softly with her hand.

“James, I don’t need you to keep doing all these grand acts of declaration,” she said softly. “I know how you feel about me. I know how I feel about you. And I won’t forget how I feel about you if you do not do something or the other each day to declare how you feel about me. Nothing will change, I promise.”

His eyes widened in surprise, “Do you not like it?” he asked her, stunned. “I just wanted everyone to know how I feel about you. I had no idea that it was bothering you so much. I never would have done it otherwise.”

She pulled him in for a light kiss, “James, I don’t want you to misunderstand me. I care about you more than anything. You’ve been a brilliant boyfriend, far better than anyone I’ve dated before. You respect me, don’t try to change me, make me laugh, make me smile, and I feel truly myself around you. I’ve never been happier than I have been these last few months. I love you, James Potter, and nothing is going to change how I feel about you. If you did not shower me in public affection every five minutes, I will not stop loving you. I’m not going to leave you if you do not do extreme things to keep my attention. I love you.”

He broke out into a smile as she said those words to him for the first time, confessing how she truly felt for him.

“I love you too, Lily Evans,” James beamed, as he pulled her in lightly for another kiss. “And if it truly bothers you that I am doing all these things, then I promise I’ll stop. Or at least tone it down and make it far more personal to the two of us. I can’t promise I’ll stop getting excited over things such as all our anniversaries or wanting you to know just how much I love you. Because I do love you. I’ve loved you for years, and I can finally tell you freely how much I do. And I never want to stop telling you how much I love you. Or stop showing you how much I love you. But I will promise that the ways I show you will be less, well, obnoxious.”

She stroked his cheeks with her palm, “I’d never want you to stop showing me you love me. We wouldn’t be us if there weren’t some still public displays of how you feel, as you’ve done it plenty of times in the past. But maybe limit the occasions that it’s public. I, however, will not stop you if you want to do things between just the two of us for occasions you still find to be important. Like the third anniversary of the first time I told you I liked your hair even in its messy state.”

“That is a very important anniversary,” James said solemnly, and she laughed.

“Now I still do owe you a birthday present,” she reminded him, “Even if you claim otherwise. And I think you’ll like it.”

His eyes lit up and she led him to the common room where Remus, Sirius, and Hermione, had helped her set up their room to have several dozen types of desserts from the kitchens set up and a giant sign that said “I am sweet on you. Happy Birthday James Potter” hanging up, and the entire House present, shouting happy birthday to him.

He turned to her and beamed brightly at her own display of affection for him, pulling her deeply into a kiss.

“I love you, Lily Evans,” he said softly, and she sank into him as Sirius and Remus hooted and Hermione beamed brightly at them.

Regulus Black felt slightly nervous as he watched Peter Pettigrew move around the Great Hall, staring over at where his brother and his friends were sitting. He knew the boy had been up to no good far before his loud outburst the year before about just how much.

And now, he watched the boy sulk, day after day, as the rest of his house began to push him away, clearly not wanting anything to do with the boy who had made it very clear just how he felt about his own friends, ones who had his back for years. Why would any of the rest of them want to befriend him after that?

He had been watching the boy for weeks after overhearing a conversation he wasn’t meant to, wondering just when Pettigrew would make his move.

It wouldn’t do good for him to act out before anything had happened. No, if he acted before, then it would not make as big of as impact when Pettigrew finally tried something. It would make a bigger landing if Pettigrew tried something, only to be discovered after.

He didn’t want to hurt his brother, or James or Remus. The boys were naïve at times, young and still relatively untainted by the world. Even Sirius, who had seen the horrors his family had inflicted on him first hand, was still naïve and trusting his friends. Who could never find their flaws.

And if Pettigrew were to apologise, there was a very good chance the Marauders would forgive him and welcome him back into their arms.

But if they discovered then that he was lying, the betrayal would be too much for them to ever be able to move past and forgive him. Good. Pettigrew wanted to betray them anyways.

So he sat on the information, until a late March date when Pettigrew approached them nervously on the Hogwarts grounds while Hermione and Draco were studying with him for their OWLs, Lily trying to teach James something while he nodded his head eagerly, clearly not listening to anything but only studying her face instead. And Remus and Sirius were busy with Remus trying to study and Sirius distracting him with light kisses.

“Can I talk to you lot?” Pettigrew asked softly as he wrung his hands carefully.

Hermione immediately sat upright, and Regulus could see a glint of mistrust in her eyes, while Draco simply looked impassive. Almost as if the two of them trusted him as little as they did.

“Do you need something, Peter?” James said, his voice cool, but the confusion was apparent in his face, questioning what it was Pettigrew wanted with them after so long of ignoring them.

“I’m sorry,” Peter breathed. “For everything. I’m sorry for what I said and how I acted. I never should have said those horrible things. But I had been feeling so insecure lately, and when those Ravenclaws said those horrible things, I snapped. It was wrong of me. I don’t even believe what I said. And after I didn’t know how to apologise. I didn’t know how to come back from it. So I pulled away. But it’s been constantly on my mind for the last year. And I can’t pretend it hasn’t been anymore. I’m sorry.”

“Peter,” Sirius said softly, and Regulus could see his brother begin to melt already under his words.

No.

He’d be damned if Peter wiggled his way back into their life after everything.

Better a snake in plain sight than hidden in the grass, right?

“Did you come up with that apology by yourself, or did Avery and Nott feed it to you?” Regulus said coolly.

“Regulus!” Sirius snapped at him.

“What?” Regulus asked back growing irate. “He spends half his time in my common room. If he thought he can plot with those two to get back into your good graces without it going unnoticed he is wrong.”

“What are you talking about?” James demanded, looking between the two of them as Peter looked uncomfortable.

“I heard him talk to the both of them about trying to get back into your lives so he could spy on your father, James, and my grandfather. He wants inside information. He’s been given the task from Voldemort directly,” Regulus said coldly, “He has no intention of being your friend once more, nor does he feel any remorse what happened. He meant everything he said that day.”

“There’s no way,” Sirius scoffed, while Remus looked unsure. “He wouldn’t be working for Voldemort. Peter isn’t like that.”

“Roll up his sleeve then,” Regulus said with a shrug. “If I’m wrong there should be nothing there. And if I’m right, then at least you know the truth.”

James looked at Peter expectantly, and the boy began to squirm, “Peter?”

When Peter refused to move, James looked more confused. “Just roll it up and show Regulus that he was wrong.”

“He won’t,” Regulus said smugly.

James moved towards the boy and grabbed his left hand, rolling up his sleeve.

And true enough there was the dark mark. Something he had seen in images, left in the aftermath after every attack conducted by Voldemort and his Death Eaters. A symbol he marked his followers with.

And Pettigrew’s arm was branded with it.

“Get out,” James said coldly.

“Never approach us ever again,” Sirius added. “Not unless you’re truly sorry for everything.”

“But I doubt that will happen,” Remus said, looking truly disappointed.

Hermione looked relieved then, as if she was glad her brother and his friends no longer trusted Pettigrew. And as she should be. Pettigrew couldn’t be trusted, and he refused to let the boy hurt his brother any more than he already had.

Lily Evans took a deep breath as she stood in front of the Gryffindor common room, several muggleborns and half-blooded students in front of her.

Ever since Hermione Potter had helped her see that there was far more to the picture than either Dumbledore or the blood purists had led her to believe.

Because she could feel the shift in her magic. She could feel herself grow more powerful and she could feel her connection to magic stronger than she had ever been able to before.

And why should she be the only one who got to experience the difference? Why should she be the only one who go to know the truth? That there was far more to it, that they could be far more, if only the information was out there for others to know and use. And if they decided after that that they did not want to take advantage of their true power, then that was their prerogative. But they deserved the right to know about their magic, and then make the decision.

And so she stood in front of the room, having gathered all those in her own house who could be affected.

Sure, she should share the knowledge more freely, but she wanted to start small at first; see how her own house reacted to the news, before she went and informed others. And hopefully, they would see that there was far more to it. Why would they let others belittle them for the blood status, when at the end of the day they were all the exact same; they all bled red. And that was all that mattered, wasn’t it?

“I need to talk to you guys,” Lily said, taking a deep breath. Hermione smiled at her from the crowd while James stood nearby. She had asked Hermione to be the one to explain it; it had made so much sense when she had been the one who spoke the words. But Hermione insisted it come from her; from someone who understood it and what it had been like to be on the other end of the wand. Who understood what the people she was talking to were going through. And James was off to the side because this was her time to shed the truth. And he supported her, but he wanted her to be the centre of attention, not him.

“Is there a reason we’re here?” Mary McDonald asked, shyly. “We have OWLs coming up, and I don’t know if I’m going to be prepared in time.”

“I swear if this is you trying to gain Potter’s attention by pulling off some stunt I’m not here for this,” a seventh-year boy scoffed. “You two are sickenly sweet and while I’m happy for you, I have better things to be doing.”

“It’s not that sort of thing!” Lily said quickly. “I wanted to talk to you about family magic.”

“So blood purity?” a third year asked looking angry. “Do we not get bullied enough because of that? You want us to discuss it with you too now?”

“No,” Lily shook her head, “I thought it was the same as you. Because Dumbledore instilled it in our heads that your family doesn’t matter, but your abilities. However, that isn’t strictly the truth. It doesn’t matter what your parents were, purebloods, half-bloods, muggleborns, or muggles. That isn’t what affects your magical ability. However, magic is not simply made, as we were lead to believe. Muggleborns do not simply gain magic. It is a gene in our bodies that is activated. We came from magic at one point.”

Hermione gave her an encouraging nod, and Lily smiled at her.

“And what this truly means, is that our ancestors, no matter how many generations ago, came from magic. That we have magical lineage too, just as purebloods and half-bloods. And as such, we are eligible to claim our family magic,” Lily said and the room looked slightly stunned by that.

“What does that mean?” a fourth-year girl asked.

“It means that if we claim our family lines, we can claim the lines of houses that either still existed or died out. For example, Severus Snape’s mother was a Prince, and while his father was a muggle, he could reclaim his Prince heritage. He is now the heir of the house given the lack of others in the house. He claimed everything that comes with being a Prince, the name, the family members, the wealth, and more importantly, the family magic.”

“Family magic?” Mary asked her quietly.

“Each family has different magics which they are talented in, based on their typical uses of magic. The Princes, for example, are notoriously talented Potion brewers,” Lily explained.

“So which family do you come from then?” someone asked curiously. “You speak of Snape frequently, however what about you?”

Lily stammered, “I cannot speak of that,” Lily said softly, “Not yet anyways. I traced my line, however I do not believe it to be safe to talk about at the time, given the current political climate. However I do intend on coming forward with it in the future. But I encourage all of you to seriously consider getting your lines traced. You can do this easily at Gringotts. It is your decision after all, but you deserve the knowledge of what it entails, and to decide if you wish to do so.”

She could see the room break out into murmurs, discussing everything from what it was Lily was hiding, to the possibility of getting their own lines traced, and she felt herself grow nervous. She couldn’t have anyone find out the truth about her, not while she was still unsure of what she was going to do. But she refused to hide it as well, not forever anyways. The truth should come out, one way or another.

She just needed some more time.

James took her hand just then, looking proud of her and she smiled softly at him. Everything would work itself out in the end.

Chapter Text

Hermione stood in front of her mirror in her childhood bedroom as she surveyed herself in it. She was currently home for the Easter holidays, and standing nervously as she tried to adjust her dress.

It wasn’t that she all of a sudden felt the need to dress nicely, now that she had a boyfriend. But it didn’t change the fact that in her old life she had very few reasons to dress up, and very few people to dress up for. And with the Prince ball occurring in a few hours where they planned on formally introducing Severus into society, she wanted to make sure she looked the part.

“Hermione, it’s time to go,” James said softly as he knocked on her door before entering.

“I’m ready,” she murmured, and he took a look at her before smiling.

“You look beautiful, little sister,” he grinned at her as he held out a hand for her to take.

She slipped her own through his, and he walked her down the staircase where the rest of her family, Lily, and the Blacks were waiting. And as she and James descended down the stairs, she could see Draco catch her eyes, lighting up at the sight of her, and his eyes never leaving hers until James passed her gently over to him.

“You look wonderful,” Draco told her softly, as he she slipped her fingers through his.

“Are we all ready to go?” Fleamont asked them. “The Princes will be expecting us shortly.”

Euphemia looked over them all, trying to fix James’ hair slightly as it continued to stand out in different directions, before sighing. As they made their way over to the floo, Fleamont went first, grabbing a handful of powder and dropping it in. She watched as James and Sirius, followed by Regulus, and Draco went through. After Lily had as well, her mother turned to her.

“It’s your turn, Darling,” her mother said, smiling at her, as she handed her the pot which held the floo powder. Hermione grabbed a handful and tossed it into the fire place as she spoke the words for the Prince Estate, and green flames engulfed her.

As she reached her destination, Draco held out his hand to her helped her out of the floo.

“I’m glad you could make it,” she heard Severus say, and she looked up to see her friend waiting to greet them. He was dressed in formal black robes, and his usually greasy hair from potion brewing was clean and pulled back, allowing his face to be shown clearly. She beamed up at him at the sight.

“You look amazing, Severus,” Lily said with a smile.

“Thank you,” he said giving her a small smile. “If I may, I would like to formally introduce you to my grandparents, Lord and Lady Prince.” He said, as his grandparents stepped forward and smiled at them all.

“It is wonderful to finally meet you all,” Lord Prince said, smiling at them. “We are pleased that you were able to attend our family ball this year, especially given the reason for it.”

His grandmother looked at Lily and Hermione, and smiled at the both of them, “I especially would like to extend my gratitude to the both of you. Severus tells me that it was with your support that he was able to come back into contact with us. We owe you our thanks for allowing us to have a relationship with our grandson which we wouldn’t have been able to have had otherwise.”

Her father smiled at the both of them, “We have always considered Severus family. And we are pleased that he was able to unite with his own.”

“We have much to discuss, Lord Potter,” Severus’ grandfather said with a nod. “But that is something for a later time. For now, please enjoy the ball.”

Euphemia smiled at them in acknowledgement, as she and Fleamont walked arm in arm into the ballroom, with all her children behind her.

Hermione’s eyes widened as she entered the ballroom, which had high arching ceilings, and several chandeliers hanging over the room in different, but symmetrical places, and a larger one in the centre of the room. The walls were made of marble, with several gold trims over the room.

She had been in the Potter ballroom often enough, but there was something lovely about seeing how different families constructed their ballrooms, as it showed their family showcased in one room.

“Would you dance with me, Hermione?” Draco said, extending his hand out to his as he gestured to the other couples on the floor.

She smiled softly at him, “I would love to,” she said, placing her hand in his, as they walked out to the dance floor. She placed a hand on his shoulder and he placed his on her waist, as they waltzed across the floor, moving the way her mother had taught her so many years ago.

Her eyes met his, and she felt her heart beat quicken, knowing that he was always there to hold her, to fight with her, to stay with her, through thick and thin, and through everything they would have to face.

The music slowed slightly, and she moved in place with him, dancing as their bodies grew close to each other. She could see his chest move with every breath he took. He had a look of affection in his eyes, and even though neither of them said a word, she knew he felt the same way for her as she did for him.

In that moment, she felt safe, full of love and happiness. And she found herself wondering if maybe, just maybe they could stay like that forever, forgetting the war that raged on in the outside world, and the mission they had to complete, or the circumstances of it all. Because if only just for a night, she could let herself forget, and just enjoy the moment with Draco by her side.

Fleamont Potter stood at the edge of the room, watching as his children were out on the dance floor. He could see Hermione dancing alongside Draco, which once upon a time he would have stepped in for, thinking her to be too young. But she was growing up, whether he liked it or not, and Draco was good for her. He would keep her safe, and Fleamont knew that with everything that had happened in their pasts, they deserved a chance at happiness.

And James, still beaming brightly to himself as Lily Evans, the young lady he had pursued for so long, danced with him, with a gaze of affection for his son he knew was genuine.

While Sirius was alone, for Remus was unable to join them for these holidays, he could see his surrogate son with Andromeda Tonks, beaming at the sight of her daughter, and insisting on spending the evening with Nymphadora while Ted and Andromeda danced.

Even Regulus was off, with the Talkalot heiress, beaming brightly as she regaled him with tales of something or the other.

“They’re growing up fast, aren’t they?” Arcturus said, coming up behind him, as he handed him a glass of firewhisky.

“They’re coming into themselves brilliantly,” Fleamont said with a sigh. “It’s bittersweet, really. I’m proud of the people they are becoming, but I am unsure of the times the world is entering. Is it selfish of me for wanting to protect them from it all? Especially given all that we now know of what is to come?”

“Not at all,” Arcturus said, as they watched while Eldon Prince approached them.

“Lord Prince,” Fleamont acknowledged. “I wish to extend my congratulations to both you and Lady Helen on reuniting with your grandson and gaining an heir to the house.”

“It is because of your house and your children that I was able to do so,” Eldon said with a smile. “We owe you our gratitude.”

“I do not suppose that is why you have approached us now,” Arcturus said, raising a brow, as he saw that Eldon seemingly had a greater agenda in mind than simply reiterating words of thanks to the Potter family for all they had done for Severus over the years.

“You are right,” Eldon said with a nod. “We have known each other a long time, Arcturus. And Fleamont, while we never were friends we still attended school together. We saw what happened the last time a Dark Lord came and raised an army? We saw the devastation that followed. And while the war had yet to break English soil, we all knew it was a matter of time before Grindelwald came. If Dumbledore hadn’t fought him, the war would have devastated our lands as well.”

“I remember,” Fleamont said, looking over the man, as he tried to gage an understanding of what it was that Eldon wanted. For while the Prince family more often than not stood with the Dark factions, he wondered if they may just be swayed to a greyer alternative.

“None of us want that to happen,” Eldon said, raising a brow at his suspicion. “I may not always vote your way in Wizengamot, but that does not mean I am unaware of the dangers that can come with this new Dark Lord who is coming. I know that he wishes to only bring war and destruction, without a care of those he destroys and kills. He does not want to save the world as he claims. He wishes to destroy it and rule it. And if we are not careful, it will bring the ruination of us all.”

“And what is it you wish of us?” Arcturus asked, eyes scanning the ballroom.

“I wish to propose an alliance,” Eldon said firmly. “I know the two of you have been working together, not on either the light or dark side, thus you are not working for Dumbledore or Voldemort. I know that neither families support either, as I have heard from the rumours that circle. And I know that you are gathering supporters, away from either side. Not quite forcing them to switch factions, as we all know that would be impossible to sway but convincing them to at least side with your grey faction. And I know you are picking up political clout, making you a threat. Many of the older families are dying out, because like ours, we lost our heir. Our lines are dying. And yet, with Severus, we have found hope. And many of the older families are desperate to keep their lines alive; they would welcome any family which can claim their blood magic. I can bring the support of such families, such as the Blishwick, Gamps, and MacDougals.”

“And what is it you would need of us?” Arcturus asked, raising a brow.

“Allow me to join your alliance,” Eldon said firmly. “I am not asking for your undying trust; I know such a thing is rare to give out all of one’s family’s secrets. But allow me and my family to stand by your side. Our families are already connected through our kin and would fight together. Allow our alliance to become official.”

Fleamont nodded, “It is done. I, Fleamont Potter, of house Potter, formally acknowledge the bond of alliance between the Potters and the Princes. So mote it be.”

“So mote it be,” Eldon said, sealing the bond between their houses.

“I, Arcturus Black, of house Black, formally acknowledge the bond of alliance between the blacks and Princes. So mote it be.”

“So mote it be,” Eldon repeated. And a subtle band of gold magic swirled over them, briefly, to seal their bonds.

“I must ask,” Eldon said after a moment, “Severus is good friends with Lily Evans. However she seems to be a muggleborn, but is radiating strong, powerful magic. Are either of you aware of the circumstances?”

“I am not,” Fleamont said, “However if anyone were to know, it would be Hermione. I would bet regardless that it is likely that she has claimed her family magic. Especially given the rumours I have heard of more and more Hogwarts students claiming their lineages through her prompting.”

“She must belong to a powerful house,” Arcturus noted, “Especially if she is keeping it a secret from her surrogate family.”

Fleamont nodded, “It is what I believe. However when she does chose to reveal the truth of her lineage, the Potters will stand behind her.

“As will the Blacks,” Arcturus said giving him a soft smile. “After all, our houses seem to be tied in more ways than one.”

“So will the Princes,” Eldon acknowledged, “She had done us a great service by being there for Severus when no one else was. She has our support.”

“Then I suppose we must simply wait and see,” Fleamont said. “Only time will tell.”

She supposed it was really only a matter of time before she found herself being questioned over her house loyalty.

How could she not, when she had friends in Slytherin as well as was dating one of them.

It shouldn’t have come to any surprise when she found out that the first time her house loyalty was tested, aside from that time Dumbledore told her that all Slytherins were no good, was when it came down to Quidditch.

Specifically, as it came down to a match between Slytherin and Gryffindor. And given the fact that her brother and surrogate brother were both chasers on the Gryffindor team, while Regulus was the seeker and her boyfriend a chaser on the Slytherin team, she really should not have been surprised when on the morning of the quidditch match, she found herself all of a sudden sandwiched by James and Sirius.

“Good morning, little sister,” James said, as he reached to grab a pastry from the plate in front of him and took a bite out of it. “Great day for a quidditch match, wouldn’t you say?”

“I think it’s the perfect sort of day,” Sirius said, in agreement. “The weather is beautiful, and we have fans who are offering us their undying support.”

He winked at Remus at that, and the other boy simply shook his head, despite the smile on his face.

James nodded, “Good point. Perhaps I can get a kiss for good luck from one of my fans?” he asked, giving Lily a flirty look.

Lily laughed at that, but she reached over and placed a peck on his cheek, “There,” she said grinning, “For good luck.”

“Is that all?” he asked, pouting slightly as he looked at her, “What if I need more good luck than just that?”

“Then perhaps you should win the match,” Lily suggested, “And see what kind of rewards you can get if you do.”

Hermione grinned at the two of them, “You’re ridiculous,” she said, telling Sirius and James.

“So which team are you going to be supporting, Hermione?” Lily asked her, and James froze.

“What do you mean by that?” he asked, confused. “Why would she support any team other than Gryffindor? It’s her own house.”

“But her boyfriend is on the Slytherin team,” Lily reminded him, “It isn’t unlikely that she would want Draco to do well too because she cares for him.”

“Blasphemous!” James said, looking at Hermione in shock. “I refuse. I would rather a sister who was uninterested in the sport entirely than one who supported our rival teams. And anything less than that is entirely unacceptable. I will not let you support Slytherin, Hermione! Over my dying body!”

“Mum was a Slytherin,” Hermione reminded him, teasingly. “How do you think she would feel to know that you are sitting here slandering her house? I remember her being quite unhappy with your attempts in the past. What do you think would happen if I wrote her and said that you were forcing me to support your team while slandering her house?”

He paled at that, “You wouldn’t,” he whispered, and Lily looked amused at that.

“You’re right,” she laughed lightly, “I wouldn’t do that to you, James. Not over quidditch anyways.”

“So you’ll support us?” James asked, giving her a hopeful look.

“I might love Draco,” Hermione started and James pulled a face, even if she knew he was making it without any malicious intent, “But I am still a Gryffindor through and through. And while I want him to do well, that doesn’t mean I do not want for us to win any less. So you and Sirius better give it your all today.”

James grinned brightly, and Hermione felt warmth fill her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, “I knew you would be loyal to the cause! My sister could never let me down by supporting Slytherin in quidditch of all things.”

“She’s a loyal supporter,” Sirius said seriously. “Well, we mustn’t let our fans down, right Prongs?”

“Of course not, Padfoot,” James grinned back at him.

She shook her head at them, as she followed Lily out to the Quidditch stands, while James and Sirius headed down to the changing rooms, getting ready for the match. And this time, while the game occurred, she found herself only pulling out her book minimally, during quick breaks, or while it seemed like nothing really was happening. But more often than not, she found herself on her feet, cheering loudly for her team, even if part of her heart still wanted Draco to do well as she silently cheered over every goal he scored. And when he looked her way, she beamed brightly at him, and his lips curled as he nodded at her.

It was in the end when Gryffindor won, at a score of 250 to 240 before the snitch had been caught, that she found herself cheering loudly for her team, pleased that Gryffindor had managed to win. And later, when Draco pulled her into his arms, she kissed him tenderly, before telling him just how brilliantly she thought he had played.

It was the first weekend of May when Hermione found herself in the Three Broomsticks, surrounded by Draco, James, Sirius, Remus, and Lily. Regulus had been off on another date with Lucinda, someone who Hermione had to admit, she found herself wanting to know more about. After all, if despite her own opinions on the girl, Regulus found himself infatuated with her, then she must have been rather special.

“To another year, almost complete,” James said, raising his glass, and Hermione groaned.

“Easy for you to say. Draco and I still have OWLs to complete,” she sighed. Because while she wasn’t as worried academically as she had been the first time around, that didn’t mean she still didn’t want to do well. These scores would still affect her in this new life she lived here, and it was still rather important that she did well on them.

“Please,” Sirius scoffed, “I’m sure the two of you could have written them last year with us without studying and still have pulled all O’s.”

She blushed lightly at that and Draco put a hand on hers, “You know Hermione. She’ll always stress over her marks, even if she had no reason to do so.”

“You say that as if you haven’t spent the last few months studying with me almost every night until curfew,” she said, giving him a pointed look.

“As long as studying is all the two of you are doing,” James said, giving them a slightly protective look.

“We save the other stuff until our prefect rounds,” Hermione said, grinning at her brother, “When no one else is around.”

He sighed at that, “Why do I even try? You’re too much like me for your own good.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” she said with a slight grin, and he was about to retort, when she heard a loud bang from outside.

She immediately grabbed her wand, as she began to hear screams flood the village. Draco shot her a look, and she knew immediately that something was wrong.

She began to run outside when James grabbed her, “Where are you going?” he demanded, “You can’t go out there! Not with what’s happening. We both know who is out there, Hermione.”

Because it didn’t take much to hear from the screaming that the Death Eaters were attacking Hogsmeade.

“I have to help, James!” she pleaded, “Innocents are going to get hurt. I can’t hide away and pretend like everything is fine.”

“And what if you get hurt?” he asked her desperately, “I can’t bear to see anything happen to you.”

“We both know that I can take care of myself,” she said softly, “I am more than capable of fighting a few Death Eaters. Please, James. You are going to be fighting right there too, we know you won’t stand aside. Do not ask me to do the same thing.”

“Okay,” he said softly, “You’re right. I-well. You’re right. Just be careful, okay?”

She nodded and ran out the doors onto the street. Stores were set ablaze as she saw Death Eaters fighting and torturing innocent students and villagers.

“Well if it isn’t my little brother,” she heard Bellatrix cracked as she came into sight and saw Draco in front of her. “How are you doing, Draco? Have you been well? I certainly hope so. It will make my revenge all the sweeter when I get to hurt you just as you hurt me. Do not think that I do not know that it was because of you that Grandfather has kicked me out of the family.”

“I do not know what you are talking about,” Draco said stoically, drawing his wand to face his elder sister.

“Please,” she sighed, “We both know how you felt about my involvement with the Dark Lord. And we certainly know your opinions on it. If you had not urged Grandfather to consider our family’s stance, then none of this would have happened. I would still be a Black in blood and in magic. And because of you now I am neither.”

“Go,” Draco urged Hermione. “Go help others. I can take care of this.”

“Draco,” she said, heart racing as she saw Bellatrix standing in front of them. While this was not the same insane woman who once tortured Hermione, she knew that Bellatrix was still a rather large threat.

“We need to get as many students to safety as possible,” Draco said softly, “I can handle my sister. You go.”

She nodded slightly, knowing he was right. Because while Bellatrix might want to hurt Draco, he was still her best chance in her mind at swaying Arcturus to side with Voldemort. Even if it never would happen. And she knew Draco could hold his own. They had been practicing for years.

So she ran forward, away from Draco and Bellatrix, despite everything telling her to stay, and ran towards where a wounded third year Hufflepuff was laying on the ground.

“It’s going to be okay,” she murmured to the young boy, as she healed his injuries quickly. It wasn’t perfect, but she knew he would be able to stand.

“You must be the young Hermione Potter who I have heard far too much about,” a cold voice said, and she found herself grow still. She knew that voice, one that had filled her with terror so many times in her past life. Someone who she and Draco had avoided for so long, who now stood in front of her.

Lord Voldemort.

“I am,” she said, gripping her wand tightly, as she stood to face him. “What does it matter to you.”

He chuckled at that. “I am not here to fight you, young Potter. I have heard many things about you. How you hide your magical power, and do not apply yourself as much as you could. Out of fear or preservation maybe. But that you are far more powerful than you would let anyone believe. And I know you have bee uniting Slytherins and Gryffindors alike, without an ounce of prejudice that the rest of your house seems to harbour. I know that you are easily one of the most powerful witches in your school, and even standing here, I can feel the magic radiating from your core. I am not here to fight you, Miss Potter. Instead, I wish to offer you a position standing by my side. At changing the Wizarding World forever and making it greater than what it is now.”

“Never,” she said, keeping her voice from shaking.

He didn’t seem surprised by her answer, “I will give you some time to consider it,” he said, cocking his head at her. “I know you are hardly a fan of Dumbledore either. Consider who it is that you wish to ally with in this war to come. And when you chose my side, we will welcome you with open arms. Now I must go. It seems as if Dumbledore and his little Order are on the way, and well, I have some other things I need to be doing.”

She wondered if this was what Voldemort must have been like before he knew of anyone who could be his weakness. Before Harry. Filled with confidence and authority.

She watched as he left, unable to stop him, knowing it wouldn’t do any good. Not when they were still missing two horcruxes. So she let him go, instead drawing her wand to fight any remaining Death Eaters as more and more Aurors arrived on site.

She ran forward, as she heard a familiar voice scream out from an ally near her and her heart stopped as she ran down it in time to see Mulciber smirk at her as he apparated away, leaving her brother lying on the ground, bleeding out in front of her.

“JAMES!” she screamed out, as she ran over to him. She knelt down, and pulled his head onto her lap, trying to figure out what had been done to him and how to stop him from bleeding.

“Hermione,” he coughed out, as his body shook. “Hermione.”

“I’m here, Jamie,” she said softly, “It’s going to be okay. I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“I love you,” he said softly, looking at her gently, before his eyes closed and his body went limp.

Chapter Text

Hermione felt tears streaming down her face as she sat beside her brother in the hospital wing. It had been hours since he had been brought in after the fight in Hogsmeade, and she remembered having to wait there while help came. It had been far too dangerous to move him any more so St Mungo’s wasn’t an option. Not if they wanted the best chance at James making it through this alive.

It had been horrifying, and despite her best attempts, she couldn’t heal all his wounds, not knowing which curses had been used on him.

Her parents had come first thing, her mother pulling her into a tight hug as Hermione cried into her chest, while her father held them both as they stood over James.

And despite Madam Pomfrey insisting that everything was going to be okay, she couldn’t help but feel terrified for her brother.

Voldemort had come for them. For her and for Draco, because despite Bellatrix’s need for vengeance, he was too important for her to be able to kill. And after the offer he had made to her, Voldemort had found Bellatrix battling Draco, and reprimanded her lightly as he extended a similar offer to Draco for him to think upon. At the arrival of the Aurors, Voldemort had left, leaving Bellatrix to ‘clean up the mess’.

She had tossed up a privacy spell, mainly because she didn’t want her crying to bother any of the other patients in the hospital wing at the moment. She had been allowed to stay, but that didn’t make her pain any worse than the rest of theirs.

“It’s going to be okay, Hermione,” Draco said to her softly as he slipped in the chair beside her.  Her parents had long since retired for the night at the Mediwitch’s insistence, despite promising to be back first thing. And if it weren’t for the tear faced expression Hermione had, having seen what happened to James first hand, she was sure she too would have been forced to leave for the night.

“How can you say that?” she hiccupped. “Voldemort was there for us, Draco! He attacked because he wanted to recruit us. Because despite our attempts to stay under the radar as much as possible, he still knew we were hiding our potential. He knew that we were stronger than we let on. James got hurt because of it. It was never supposed to happen, not like this anyways. And you! You were tortured by your own sister. You’re lucky that your worst injury is a broken arm,” she said, gesturing to his arm which was in a sling. And she knew with magic, it would be healed by morning, but it didn’t make her feel any better.

“And I damaged her leg,” Draco said, firmly. “Before Voldemort showed up. Any damage she was able to do after his orders were severely reduced because of her inability to move as much as she might have liked. And despite her best attempts, her husband still forced her to flee. All things considered, it wasn’t as bad as it could have been.”

He sighed softly, taking her hand in his, “I know you are blaming yourself, Hermione. This attack wasn’t supposed to happen. But we knew when we came back that we would be changing the timeline, for good. Which would mean that certain things were never supposed to happen. And as such, other things certainly would. Peter showed his true colours sooner. Sirius was never kicked out of the family, and look at Regulus, recruiting half the Slytherins to stand against either factions. As horrible as it is, it is not hard to see that an attack would have happened because of the way we are changing things.”

“Are we even making a difference,” she said, looking at her brother. “What if he died today? Then everything we were working so hard for would have gone to waste. What difference does it make trying to save everyone if we lose him? What if we are really doing more harm than good?”

“Hermione,” Draco said softly, “We’ve been in a war for the better part of the last few decades. We can’t save everyone, no matter how hard we try. That’s not to say that your brother or any of our friends or family need to die. But at the same time, we cannot control all the pieces. We do not know how every action will impact us, despite our best calculations. We are making a difference. Severus will never reveal the prophecy. Regulus will not die trying to do the right thing in the end. Peter will never be able to fatally betray his friends. And James and Lily will survive. Of that much I am certain.”

Perhaps if she had been more attune to the privacy spell she put up, she would have realized that it wasn’t just her and Draco the spell encompassed, but also the party lying on the bed in front of her. And while that should not have made as much of a difference as it should have, the fact that said party, who wasn’t supposed to wake up until the morning, was currently shifting in his bed, in a way she knew all too well. It was the way he shifted when he was pretending to sleep when their parents checked in on them at night, but he secretly had other things he wanted to do.

“James,” she breathed slightly, and her brother must have known that she saw right through him. So he blinked open his eyes and stared at the two of them.

“Hermione,” he said, giving her a soft smile.

“You’re okay,” she said, shaking slightly. “I was so worried, Jamie.”

Her brother tried to sit up in his bed, and he reached out to grab her hand. All she wanted to do was hug him tightly, never letting her older brother go, but she knew he still was in pain, and hardly wanted to contribute more to it.

“I’m okay, Hermione,” he told her gently. “In pain still, but I’ll live.”

Draco was silent for a few moments, and she bit her lip, unsure of what to say.

“How much did you hear?” Draco said finally, and Hermione wanted to glare at her boyfriend. However, it was important to know what James had heard them say.

“Most of it,” her brother admitted, wincing as he tried to shift positions. “I’ll admit it doesn’t make all that much sense to me, however.”

“We should tell him the truth,” Hermione said softly. “He deserves to know. Especially after today, he deserves to know.”

Draco nodded at her, trusting her judgement. Because James, however badly he may react, would never hurt her nor would he do anything to endanger her.

“I’ve been keeping something from you,” she spoke softly, and James looked at her, slightly concerned. “We weren’t siblings. Not always.”

“Hermione?” he asked her, sounding confused. “I think you better start from the beginning, because you are losing me.”

“Draco and I are from the year 2000,” she said taking a deep breath. “I was once Hermione Granger, a muggleborn student, who attended Hogwarts alongside her two friends, Harry James Potter and Ronald Weasley. You grew up an only child in this world, James, and Mum and Dad loved you for you were the only child they were able to have. In that time, you were friends with Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew, tight as could be. You were like brothers, you were brothers. However certain things that happened in this time never happened then. You never made amends with Severus Snape, nor did Sirius with his brother. And as such, Lily and you were not friends, until what is known as the Snape incident when he called her a mudblood in front of the entire school. Because Slytherins in that time were only ever shunned by everyone but those who seemed to follow Voldemort. So Regulus and Severus found solace there.”

James closed his eyes, trying to process all of what she was trying to tell him.

“Sirius was kicked out of the family by his mother, but Arcturus never was able to step in for him. And Remus never had access to the Wolfsbane potion. You still dated Lily,” Hermione said softly, “The two of you were always meant to be. It just took longer for you to get there. You got married too, a few years out of school, and were the parents to Harry Potter, my best friend, and later, adopted brother. But the war was still going on in the outside world.”

“There was a prophecy,” Draco said, as Hermione trailed off. “Of a child who could defeat Voldemort. And Severus didn’t know when he delivered that prophecy that it would be talking about your son. That Harry was the key to defeating Voldemort.”

“You chose a secret keeper,” Hermione said, “As you had to go into hiding. And you believed Sirius to have been an easy target, as there was a spy in the organization you had joined to bring him down. And without telling anyone, you and Sirius switched the keeper to Peter Pettigrew, who at the first chance he had ran off to tell Voldemort. You and Lily died on October 31^st, 1981, while Harry survived, and Voldemort vanquished.”

She shook slightly then, and James paled considerably.

“He was raised by Lily’s sister, and I met him on the Hogwarts Express. You would have been so proud of your son, Jamie. Youngest seeker in history. And trouble always did have a way of following the three of us around. He was brilliant, and my best friend. It wasn’t until that year when Voldemort started to show up once more. Harry defeated him that year, and again his second year. And in his fourth year, Voldemort restored his physical body, returning once more. We fought a war against him until 1998, when he was finally defeated. But the damage had already been done. The world torn in half; divided more than ever.”

“My father, Lucius Malfoy, took over the world, with my aunt, Bellatrix, by his side,” Draco spat out. “They murdered my mother, and everyone who stood by their side. Because the world was so divided it was easy for them to do so.”

“We had to come back. We used a ritual, so we could have been born into this time,” she said softly. “Harry couldn’t do it; I think he was tired of fighting all these years, of carrying the burden. And how could I blame him? So he and I did a blood ritual where he was able to claim me into his family, so I could be born as your sister. And Draco went back to be born as his mother’s brother. So we could save the future from ever happening.”

“I wish I could say that this was some sort of elaborate prank,” James said, after a moment of trying to process everything. “But it would certainly make a lot of things make sense. This is what you couldn’t tell me about? When a few years ago, Draco was injured, and you couldn’t say why? And you begged me not to ask? Because you were doing something dangerous as a part of this mission of yours?”

Her eyes welled up, “Yes,” she said simply, unable to contain her pain any longer. He was her last link to Harry; her brother whom had been there for her in this life, and it would break her if he didn’t want anything to do with her any more.

He looked at her gently, “Hermione, you know that you are still my little sister, right? I still love you no matter what. Ritual or not, you are still my family, and I love you. I know why you have been hiding it all these years, but you do not have not, not anymore. I love you, and nothing will ever change that.”

He held his arm out to her, and she moved from her chair to hug her brother gently, needing his comfort.

“Whatever it is that the two of you have to do, know that I will be fighting by your side,” he told them both. “And that I don’t blame you for Peter. I know you tried over the years to be civil to him, which would have been hard for you, knowing what you know. If you had told me back then not to trust him, I don’t think I would have believed you. I know you tried to save him, tried to include him. But I suppose he was always meant to join forces with Voldemort. And if that is just what saves our lives, then it is perfectly fine with me.”

She didn’t say anything for a few moments, laying her head against her brother’s shoulder lightly, and he kissed her forehead.

“I love you, Hermione,” he told her once more. “You always will be my sister. My son cast this ritual with you as his sister because he loved you dearly. Blood magic cannot be done otherwise for adoptions. Feelings must be genuine and there for the party doing the adoption. And he loved you enough to send you back. And while I do expect more detailed stories about my son, I am grateful that you are here to make sure he never has to go through half the things in the future.”

“He won’t,” Hermione promised him. “I’ll never let anything happen to you or Lily. And if by some horrible chance it did, I’ll make sure Harry lives a safe, normal life, where he is shown he is loved every day.”

James smiled at her, “So tell me more about him being the youngest seeker of all times.”

She groaned at that, but she felt elated as she broke out into the story, Draco interjected at parts he felt were unfair to him, and James listened raptly to the stories of his future son.

Hermione sat next to Draco in their corner of the library silently, unsure of what she was currently about to say.

“What are you thinking about?” Draco asked her softly, as he placed his hand gently over hers.

“I think we need to talk to Dumbledore,” she said carefully, “With everything that has been going on lately, we need him to know. We need his help, otherwise we won’t be able to keep fighting this war. With the attack that happened, we can’t keep pretending that we can do this without outside help. My father and your grandfather are trying politically to bring him down, but we need more fighters on our side fighting with us.”

“Are you sure that’s wise?” Draco asked, raising a brow. “To tell him everything?”

“No,” she whispered. “I still don’t trust him. Not given his stance on the dark side and how he believes them to be completely evil. But he could be useful. I don’t think we should trust him with everything. But maybe if we can convince him to stand with us, even if we don’t agree on all his ideals or he on ours, then we might have a chance.”

He nodded, “He does have access to knowledge and information that we don’t even know about. But at the same time, I worry that if we tell him that we need to change the future, he will not allow us, claiming it to be dangerous.”

“I know,” she said softly. “But I think it could be worth it. We still have no idea how to get the locket or the diary. We have no idea how to destroy any of them. And all the while the dark and light sides are growing further apart as Voldemort continues to terrorize the world and Dumbledore continues to villainize the dark side, even those who are not associated with him. And Regulus, you, and Severus are doing your part to show Slytherins and others that it doesn’t matter, while Lily has become the champion for muggleborns alike. But we need more still. Dumbledore already knows something is different between us, he doesn’t trust us, but he knows something is different. Maybe if we tell him the truth it will be enough.”

He looked at her softly, “If you want to do this then we will. I am not sure if we should trust him with everything. It may be better to leave out certain things, such as the horcruxes, until we know for sure he believes us. The time travelling part we cannot exactly leave out. But we can leave out the fate of certain individuals, so he cannot manipulate them back to how it once was. I refuse to sit back and let him take lead. We will work with him, but not for him.”

She nodded, “He will try and control what happens. He will want to either view or memories or know the full story, telling us that he must trust us to be able to help us. But despite the risks, it will be worth it for him to know in the long run. But with the attacks increasing, we need all the help we can get. If we can any of them, then lives can be saved.”

He sighed, nodding in agreement, “You’re right. Of course, you’re right. Okay, we’ll tell him. But if he doesn’t agree to help, then we’ll continue on how we’ve been, without him or the Order behind us.

It was how they currently found themselves climbing up the staircase to Albus Dumbledore’s office, sighing as she was still unsure of whether they were making the right decision or not. They had made it five years without his help. Was now really the right time to bring him in, after everything that had happened? Would it help them in any way to do so?

But it didn’t matter. Voldemort knew some version of who she and Draco were. Voldemort was actively trying to recruit spies on the light side. And even if Peter had failed to be embedded, Merlin knew how many others there were. Dumbledore was ostracizing anyone who didn’t follow his ideals. Her brother nearly was killed. And in a few years, they would be done school. It was already 1977, and in four years, Voldmort was to hunt down her brother and sister-in-law. And yet they still were far off from defeating him.

So she took a deep breath and knocked. And once Dumbledore had summoned them in, sitting at his desk, looking at the two of them expectantly, Hermione started.

“I know you do not trust either of us currently, as made abundantly clear through the years, but we need your help, Professor Dumbledore,” Hermione said softly. “My real name is Hermione Granger, and I am from the year 2000.”

Bellatrix wondered what it was that her lord wanted to speak to her about as she approached his study in the estate that he had set himself up in with the help of Lucius and her husband. It had been one of the many ways they had proved themselves to be loyal to the cause, and she knew that they would continue to do whatever it took to prove themselves loyal to her lord.

“My Lord?” she asked, as she approached his open study, waiting for permission from him to enter.

“Ah Bellatrix,” the Dark Lord said as he gestured for her to enter the study and sit before him. He was standing at the desk, looking formidable, and she felt her heart stutter at the sight of how powerful he looked, wanting nothing more than to be able to offer the world to him if she could.

“May I ask if this is about my brother?” she asked, hesitating. For she knew that her Lord wished to recruit Draco and turn him into the possible future Lord Black. And if he was successful, she would be able to plead her case to Draco to have her reinstated into the family. It would also allow the Dark Lord to have another powerful family behind him, as he continued his strong conquest of the wizarding world.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Both he and Hermione Potter will be dealt with in the future. They will either come to join my side, standing strongly beside me, or they will face punishment for their insubordination. I wished to speak to you about a matter that has come to my attention in the past few months. Something which I admit that I am having difficulty deciding how to proceed.”

She felt her heart race. He trusted her, enough to ask her for her opinion on a matter which he did not know what to do. She almost smiled at the fact that she alone, and not even Lucius, held the Dark Lord’s confidence enough for him to come to her with a matter that was important to him.

“What is it, My Lord?” she asked him softly, wondering what it was that could have left him so puzzled as to how to act.

“As you know, I have ears in many places. It is good for someone of my status to be informed of what it is that is going on in the wizarding world. Especially with so many who stand opposed to us, and do not wish for us to succeed in what it is that we have set out to do,” the Dark Lord started, looking over at her. “One of my spies as such, work at Gringotts. I have heard from such a goblin that there are rumours circulating the bank. Rumours which have not yet been heard by any other witch or wizard other than myself until you now. Rumours which I wish for you to confirm the validity of, so I may deal with the situation accordingly.”

“What sort of rumours, My Lord?” she asked, growing curious as what it was that had him wanting her to pursue such a lead.

“There are rumours that there is one other, a teenage witch at Hogwarts, who claims the Slytherin lineage. Rumours that she has already claimed her family magic, and that she has plans to attempt to claim the lordship herself in a few years. Rumours, where if proved true, could threaten my magic,” he said, deeply as he looked over at her, to see if she understood the full nature of what he was saying.

“It cannot be possible!” she said immediately, “There is no one but yourself who is able to claim such a powerful line. No one else is worthy of such a feat. And even if they were, then they would never be able to challenge you for the Lordship. They could never be more powerful than you are, my lord. That title belongs to you, and not some upstart mudblood who wishes to claim a line that they have no right to.”

“Perhaps,” her lord shrugged, seeming disinterested in it all. “That is not what I wish to know, Bella. I wish for you to find out who this witch is, and if there are any truth to the rumours. For if there are, we may find ourselves with a powerful ally. Imagine, if instead of just me with the Slytherin heritage, if we had another who was able to harness the power of Salazar Slytherin and channel his magic? We would be unstoppable. But for that, we need this witch to stand by our side. Dumbledore and his little Order will have no idea what hit them when we strike. And if she were by my side, then perhaps this little war will end far sooner than we could have hoped for it to.”

“And if she refuses?” Bella asked, already feeling as if she knew the answer to the question before it had even been asked.

Lord Voldemort gave her a smile then, not one full of happiness, but filled with power and cruelness, enough to cause her heart to beat faster as she grew enamoured with him more by the second.

“I hardly think we will have to worry about such a thing. She is family after all. However, if she were to reject us for some reason, then I’ll have to see to it that she does not have the chance to side against us. I would rather murder every member of my family than have them oppose me,” he said then, and she felt her own lips curl up.

“I will not let you down, My Lord,” she said, standing as she could feel him ready to dismiss her. “I will bring her to you and help her see how beneficial it would be for her to stand with us.”

“Thank you, Bella,” he said with a smile at her, “You continue to serve me loyally.”

She nodded, as she left the room, her mission in her mind. She would not fail.

Chapter Text

Hermione stared around the room, as she took a seat opposite from Albus Dumbledore, still wondering if she was about to do the right thing. Draco reached from his chair to squeeze her hand lightly and she gave him a small squeeze.

“I think you’d better explain yourself, Miss Potter,” Dumbledore said, after sitting down beside her. “It seems as if we have much to discuss. Perhaps you’d better elaborate on your claim from being from the future, and indeed, not a Potter whatsoever?”

“You can already tell that there is a war going outside, Professor,” Hermione said, looking at him levelly. “A war which if it wages on for another few decades, would have catastrophic disasters. A war in which the Light and Dark sides are becoming more and more polarized with each day that passes. The Light side has begun insisting that the Dark side is all completely evil and everything they do goes against the nature of magic itself. And the Dark side is starting to claim that the Light side are extremists who wish to stomp out the very nature of magic which defines them.”

“And yet your Heads of House seem to be dead set on creating a Grey faction,” Dumbledore said, with a twinkle in his eyes as if to chaise them over matters they did not even begin to understand.

“Because each side is pushing the other further away,” Draco said. “They are trying to unify the sides, because where we are from, the two are both too different to ever reconcile in regard to matters which affect the fate of the world. And if you continue to push Slytherins away and treat them like they are all the villains, then you are pushing them straight towards Voldemort’s side. And he will win the war. Even when it ends, even when we defeat him, his side would have gained enough power and political clout because of the outcome of the war where his survival is no longer necessary for them to win. And they do win. But magic is too damaged, too torn apart at that time. It’s dying, because the balance between the Light and Dark is damaged. And what you are doing now, is contributing to that problem.”

“Are you saying that my stance against the monstrosities that man is committing is wrong?” Dumbledore asked. “That I should stand back and simply allow him to continue to murder hundreds of innocents, like your friend Ms Evans, or Ms MacDonald who all fall under the category of whom he deems unworthy.”

“We are simply saying that in your stance against him, for all you preach house unity, you are the first to push away innocent Slytherin students. You called me into your office years ago to warn me about my friendship to Draco. You always punish Slytherins far more harshly than similar atrocities committed by members of other houses. You throw the first stone, after insisting we all remain united. What kind of message is that sending out?” Hermione said, taking a deep breath.

“Did you come and reveal yourselves to me, simply because you wish for me to treat Slytherins differently?” Dumbledore asked her, sounding a little stunned. “For you still have yet to share exact details with me. How did you come back? What happened that was so horrible that you needed to return? For you seem like an intelligent girl, Miss Granger. What was it that caused you to need to meddle with time? For you must know that-”

“-Bad things happen to those who meddle with time,” Hermione finished for him, “I know. You told me when I was in my third year of schooling. But we had no choice Professor, we had to change what happened. The future we lived in, it was unimaginable. You must understand that we cannot tell you the exact detail of things that happens. But Voldemort takes over the Ministry and the school. Many die; and I can’t tell you who, but people important to me in that time, and in this time. My best friend defeated him in the end, but it wasn’t enough.”

“Okay,” he said with a nod. “I assume you’ve been back for quite a while, given how strong of a foothold you have in this time. You both have established yourselves with strong connections. So why is it that you are coming to me now? Why not earlier? What is different at this time?”

“Because the war is heating up,” Hermione said softly. “People are dying, on both sides, unnecessarily. And you have numbers on your side. You have the Order, and the Aurors will listen to you if you talk to the Minister of Magic. You can stop the attacks and save lives. Because while I know what happens in the future, I do not command the same political sway that you have.”

“So you want my help simply because you think I can help you win fights?” Dumbledore said, sounding sceptical. “Not because you think I can help you bring down Voldemort.”

“We know how to bring him down,” Draco said softly, “We did it the first time around. But even then, it wasn’t enough. We need to ensure that both the Light and Dark are nowhere near as polarized as they were last time around and once the war ends, that balance can be restored to magic. That the Light and Dark can exist in harmony. Because whether you like it or not, when you defeated Grindelwald, your politics shifted magic to be Lighter, and while you are not solely responsible for the rise of Voldemort, that shift helped him gain footing with the Dark who supports him.”

“You cannot keep pushing away Slytherin students and treating them like an enemy, when that is not the case. Regulus Black, a boy who has no idea what is coming is fighting with us because it is what is right. He has no ulterior motives. And he has found a lot of people to stand by his side within our house. Yet if you keep pushing them and Voldemort accepts them, they will run straight to his side,” Hermione finished.

“You sound a lot like your father, with his beliefs on Light and Dark,” Dumbledore said with a sigh, and she blushed slightly at that. “You are right that I might have been a bit haste to think that all Slytherins will follow him, as he is the heir to their house. And maybe past experiences have taught me to be warier. Dark magic is seductive, and can be a deep hole if you fall in.”

“So is Light magic,” Draco pointed out, “But you have been sitting on a throne of it for the last few decades. You have a First Class Order of Merlin, are the Headmaster of Hogwarts, and hold the titles of Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. All magic can be seductive, but it is learning how to balance it between the necessities and demands. But that is how everything in life goes.”

Dumbledore nodded, “You are wiser than your age might suggest. Very well. I hope in time you can trust me with more information of your past life, for it might make more a difference than you know. However, it seems that trust between us needs to be established, as it has been long since broken.”

She nodded, “Thank you, Professor. We’ll see ourselves out.”

“Miss Potter,” Dumbledore called out while she and Draco were about to exit the room. “In case you change your mind, please remember that I’ll be here at any time. I will keep your secret, but if you wish to trust me further, then perhaps it will be more useful than you seem to believe it could be.”

Hermione nodded without saying a word, and as they exited the room Draco let out a breath.

“Manipulative Old Goat,” he muttered, and Hermione laughed lightly.

“It still went far better than what I expected,” she said with a sigh. “At least he didn’t demand to know exact details, or at least respected our decision not to tell him.”

He nodded at that. “But for now, your brother will be waiting for us. And if we don’t want Sirius to make any insinuations as to why it took us so long to get to the Hogwarts Express, we probably should head out now. Even with your brother knowing the truth, I doubt he wouldn’t kill me if he thought I was acting dishonourable in any way whatsoever towards you.”

She nudged him slightly, “Looks like we need to catch a train then and head home before you are killed then.”

Hermione sat down beside her brother in their father’s study. She knew that it wasn’t that she was never allowed in the room, for her and her brother had spent many days while younger playing make pretend in the room. But it seemed lately that she found herself in it far more than she ever had.

“Not that I don’t love you and seeing you Dad, but why are we here?” James asked, getting straight to the point.

Her father shook his head at him, in slight amusement.

“Hermione has told me that you know the truth now,” Fleamont Potter said, looking at James, “About the circumstances of her existence in our time, and why it was necessary for her to return.”

“Yes,” he said softly, as he took Hermione’s hand in his own. “It doesn’t matter to me. She’s still my little sister, and nothing will ever be able to change that. I’ll always protect her, no matter what.”

“Good,” Fleamont nodded. “Family should always stand together. That is why I have you both in this room today. But we need to discuss more than just that. We need to discuss the fact that because of the nature of your sister’s mission, she will one day have to face Voldemort, regardless of any of our thoughts on the matter.”

“I don’t have a choice,” she said softly, looking at them both, pleading them to understand. And in that moment, she never understood more how Harry must have felt before he went to face Voldemort in the forest, knowing that it was the only way, even if it terrified him and those who loved him. “It has to be Draco and I. We’re the only ones who know what happen.”

“That doesn’t mean you need to be the one who kills him,” James said strongly. “You could simply destroy all his horcruxes, then let me face him.”

“I will not lose you to him again!” she hissed, and he looked affronted.

“So it’s okay for me to lose you?” James snapped. “Because that’s not a better solution to me, Hermione. Why is it so hard for you to accept that just because you wish to protect everyone doesn’t mean that we don’t also want to protect you? I get that you feel the need to face Voldemort, Hermione. I understand responsibility all too well. But if you are going to do this, then I’ll be damned if I let you do this alone. I’m always going to be here, by your side, protecting you and fighting with you.”

She reached over and hugged James tightly at that, and he kissed her on the forehead. She was lucky, to have a brother in this time who would do anything for her to protect her. He would be a great father one day, and she knew that Harry would grow up feeling more loved than ever. And she felt a lump in her throat at the thought, wanting nothing more than for her friend to grow up with his family.

“We are not here to discuss this,” Fleamont reminded them. “I do not want to lose either of you to Voldemort. That is why we are here. We are here to discuss what either of you facing Voldemort means.”

“What does it mean?” James asked.

“It means you are terribly unprepared,” Fleamont said, and when they both began to argue, he raised his hand. “Don’t argue with me. You are. Neither of you have ever trained for combat properly. You might have duelled before, or fought before, but neither of you have ever used the Potter family magic knowingly to do so. You might have drawn from it subconsciously, but never knowingly. And I think you are both old enough to do so. James, you’re seventeen already and Hermione, you’ll soon be an adult. With what you are both about to face, it’s time you are both properly and completely trained to be able to do so, using the Potter Family Magic.”

“Dueling magic,” James said quietly, drawing from his lessons. “Fighting magic. That’s what the Potter family is known for, is it not?”

“It is,” Fleamont said with a nod. “And I think it is time that the two of you are properly trained to channel your magic. If you are going to go against Voldemort, then you deserve to have every edge in doing so. This summer is critical, you will both train for several hours each day.”

James looked slightly soured at that, but he did not argue as he knew the importance of what they were doing, so he did not question it.

“How does it work?” Hermione asked slightly, and Fleamont smiled at her.

“You’ve most likely been channelling it for years, without realizing. To be able to properly channel your magic, you must connect with it deeply. You must feel it flowing through you. It requires effort and practise to be able to do so properly. But unlike many of the muggleborns who have been cut off from their family magic and need to regain that connection, yours has always been a part of you. Your mother and I will train you to be able to connect with your magic and channel it. Because it requires practice while dueling to be able to use it properly, and more importantly for it to give you an edge.”

“How?” James asked desperately. “How do I connect to it? What do I need to do to be able to feel the Potter magic? You haven’t told us yet how it works or what needs to be done. Just that we need to practise to be able to connect to it. What does that even mean?”

“It means like all things, it takes practise. Just as becoming an Animagus did, you both will need to put in dedication and commitment to such a task.” Fleamont said, looking at them both.

James gave her a look, as if she had sold them out to her father but she shook her head in disbelief.

“Did you think your mother and I wouldn’t notice our children shifting into animals?” Fleamont asked in amusement. “And using nicknames for each other which are very indicative of what you are? Neither of you are subtle, but I suppose you get that from me. But that is besides the point. You will train. We will start off small, with the two of you first trying to connect to your magic, to simply feel it flowing through you. Then we will practise simple spells and get you to channel that magic to be able cast simple defensive spells.”

“Hermione still is underage,” James pointed out, “She isn’t allowed to practice magic at home.”

Fleamont shook his head, “I believe saving the world is more important than simple underage magic. Besides, they’ll never be able to trace it here anyways. Do not think for one moment that I am not aware that the two of you have been casting spells at home for years.”

“I don’t think Hermione should be using the Potter family magic,” James said softly, “Not solely anyways.”

She gave him a questioning look, wondering where he was going with it.

“We have the Gryffindor Line, Dad. And yet none of us have claimed it for years, out of fear and out of preservation. But now, more than ever, it is important for us to use every single spell in our spell book. She should claim the Gryffindor line, and as such be able to claim the magic that comes with it. It will give her more power and strength to be able to fight Voldemort with.”

“I don’t think I have that right,” she said softly. “The Gryffindor line belongs to this family. And I am not supposed to be a part of it, not really. You should keep it, James. Maybe your children can use it one day.”

“Exactly,” James said with a nod. “It belongs to this family. And you are just as much a part of this family as I am. You deserve the magic as much as any of us. I want you to take the line. Not only because of the edge that it would give you, but because I want you to have it as your own. No one deserves the Gryffindor line more than you, Hermione. You have every virtue and trait of a Gryffindor, and you would honour the title well. Besides, you have always looked out for our family. You have protected me from myself and others on more than one occasion. You watched over my son every step of the way. And while I think it also would have been cool if my son came back so I could meet him, you protected him from the pain it would have caused him to do so. You are giving him the chance to have a regular life. You are just as much a part of this family as the rest of us.”

Fleamont smiled at them both, “I believe it is a wonderful idea. Hermione, while it is your right to decide if you wish to claim the line or not, I strongly would urge for you to do so. For all the reasons your brother gave you and more. Your mother and I would be proud for you to accept the line.”

Her eyes welled up with tears as she nodded at them both, “I’ll think about it. But thank you both for accepting me.”

Her father walked around the table and pulled both of them into a hug. “I’ll do anything it takes to keep you both safe. You are my children, and I cannot bear the thought of losing you.”

She took comfort in the arms of her brother and father, knowing that she was a lot less alone than she had been a few short years ago.

Hermione Potter knew that the day the Hogwarts letters came, her brother would lose it.

It had been why she specifically did not say a thing that morning at all, simply sipping her cup of tea and asking her mother to pass her the Daily Prophet as she read through it, trying to get a gage on what was happening in the wizarding world.

The summer had been long, to say in the least. Using family magic had been exactly as difficult as her father had insisted it would be. It had been long months of her trying to reach down and channel her magic to do anything, from a simple lumos to a disarming charm, had been difficult.

And on top of that, Draco was gone the entire summer, alongside Regulus and Sirius, as Arcturus Black, similarly to her father, had decided to train them all in using Black family magic for the years that were to come their way.

She remembered the first time she even was able to cast a simple lumos using her family magic, the light starting out as bright as it usually was, before glowing brighter and brighter and nearly blinding them all. James had burst out into laughter, while Fleamont had blinked but congratulated her. And her mother had told her how proud she had been for even being able to do as much as quickly as she had, before James had said he always knew she was bright.

She was glad, however, that Draco was back, at least for a few days before having to return home once more to continue his training. And as he sat beside her, Sirius and Remus sat opposite to them, while James rubbed his eyes, exhausted and Lily took a bite of the eggs that had been prepared for them that morning, before talking to Remus about some new theory she had heard about.

That had been when the owls had arrived, carrying the letters from Hogwarts, and Hermione suddenly sat up straighter in her seat, as her mother collected the letters and distributed them between the children in front of her.

She put hers down however, not wanting to open it right away. It wasn’t as if her would contain any sort of news beyond the usual anyways.

James frowned at his as he opened it gently and pulled out a letter, as before him fell a golden badge. He picked it up, looking confused.

“I must have opened your letter by accident, Moony,” James said before handing Remus the badge.

Remus shook his head, “My letter was addressed to me, James. I don’t have anything saying I’m Head Boy. It’s not mine.”

“Read your letter, James,” Hermione said softly.

James looked confused as he pulled out his letter and began reading it, “Dear Mr Potter, We are pleased to inform you that you have been named Head Boy-”

Sirius doubled over in laughter at that and James frowned even more. “That’s absolutely perfect,” Sirius said, wiping a tear from his eye as he laughed harder, “James Potter. Head Boy. Dumbledore’s absolutely lost it.”

“There must have been some sort of mistake. I can’t be Head Boy! I’m not even a prefect! Dumbledore must have sent this to me by mistake. I’ll send him a letter and straighten this all out.”

“It’s not a mistake,” Hermione said with a smirk. “It’s not necessary to be a prefect to become a Head student. He chose you for a reason, Jamie. You’re a natural born leader and students respect you. You were chosen for a reason, James. You deserve it, and I’m proud of you.”

“Besides,” Lily said grinning at him as she raised her own badge at him, “You’ll have me to keep you in line if you ever forget what you are supposed to be doing.”

He grinned at her, “Perfect. Looks like the two of us will have plenty of alone time during patrols.”

Sirius looked stricken at that, “My best friend and boyfriend are now in positions of power. What will happen to the Marauders from here on out? Are we doomed to obey the rules now?”

“Nothing can keep the two of you in line,” Remus said dryly. “I hardly expect this to make any difference in your behaviour. I expect if anything it will only increase the pranks that the two of you pull off.”

James grinned, “Don’t worry, Padfoot. They can try and reel us in and make them conform to their rules, but we will never be broken as such.” He caught her eye then and winked and she rolled her eyes. She knew he was amused by the fact that he had been made Head Boy, and not annoyed with her for not letting him know that it was coming his way.”

“You know,” James said, smirking back at her just as she had at him when the letter had first arrived. “As Head Boy, this means that I now am in charge of you. I can boss you around and get you to do anything I’d like. I can even make sure you and Draco never have patrol together. I know what Prefects really get up to on those rounds.”

She wrinkled her nose, “I’d like to see you try. Lily never would let you misuse your power like that.”

Lily grinned, “Definitely not. Besides I like your sister more than you anyways.”

James sighed, “That’s fair. She’s far more likeable than me.”

Her mother laughed at that and kissed James on the head, “We’re proud of you, James. You’ll make a brilliant Head Boy.”

“That he will,” Fleamont said fondly. “Congratulations, James.”

James grinned at them and Hermione smiled back. Her brother’s final year of school would definitely be an interesting one.

Chapter Text

For the better part of the last two years, Draco Black had spent his holidays somewhere other than the Potter family home. He knew why it was that Arcturus Black had called his grandsons and Draco to stay with him for a few weeks, even if Sirius or Regulus couldn’t understand it. With him knowing the truth now, he felt like it was his duty to prepare his family for what was to come. And that meant training them all to fight.

So he did so without protest. He read the books on family magic that Arcturus insisted on, he practised the spells that Arcturus had insisted on. All without as much as a complaint.

Whereas his cousins did not necessarily react the same way. But why would they? Neither of them knew the truth of what was happening. And while James Potter knew, Draco still was unsure of whether informing any more people would be necessary. It wasn’t that they couldn’t trust the Black brothers. But the more people who knew their secret, then the more people were in danger if Voldemort ever found out. And it would absolutely kill him to see his cousins tortured because of him.

“I don’t understand,” Sirius said with a sigh one day, alerting their grandfather of his exasperation. “Why is this necessary for us to even learn? It’s not like it’s anything that can help us anyways.”

“You do not think your family history and magic is worth learning?” Arcturus asked, sitting up and looking at him. “Tell me, what do you think our magic is for, if not utilizing? It is a skill presented to us and gives us a chance to be able to use it to protect ourselves and the ones we love. Do you even know what our magic specializes in?”

“Dark magic,” Sirius muttered.

“More specifically?” Arcturus prompted. “Do you know what else? Because Dark Magic is still a broad subject.”

Sirius didn’t say anything at that, and Regulus pipped in instead.

“Hexes,” he said, “Curses. The Black family is known for their spells that are based on blood and such. Our magic is channelled through our bloods and sometimes we use that blood to make our spells more potent.”

“Good,” Arcturus said in approval. “Sirius, it would do you good, to learn this as well. I asked you all here for a reason this summer. You will learn of your family magic and how to access it. You will learn spells and curses which will help you in the future. And you will learn this all without any argument on your part.”

“Do I have a choice?” Sirius sighed and Arcturus looked at him sharply.

“Am I wrong in assuming your plans for after Hogwarts will be something that involves fighting in this war in some way or another?” Arcturus asked, and Sirius looked down, slightly ashamed. “I know you, Sirius. I know you and James Potter are hardly going to sit back and wait for this war to end. You both are going to find some way or another to fight, and if you do, I’m hardly going to send you out into the world without knowing all of the powers you have at your advantage. You will learn this.”

Sirius sighed, “But Blood magic is-”

“So help me if you say anything which seems like it could have come out of Dumbledore’s misguided and manipulative mouth,” Arcturus warned, and Sirius closed his mouth quicker than ever before.

“Blood magic is one of the rawest forms of magic,” Draco said softly, “Because instead of simply channelling one’s magic into the spell, it involves the blood where the magic is contained. It’s filled with more intent and emotions than any other spell. That’s why it is feared; because it could be used to curse an entire family line or used simply to create wards which protects oneself.”

“Good,” Arcturus said, looking at Draco approvingly. “Sirius it would do you good to care as well. I do not give a damn what your mother says or claims. You are still my heir, and you will continue to be until you take over as Head of the House.  It is time you grew up and accepted the responsibility which comes with such a thing. And that means learning how to cast certain spells. It means accepting our family Grimoire and protecting it until you pass it onto your heirs.”

Draco’s breath hitched at the mention of the Black Grimoire, and his grandfather looked at him knowingly. It had been from there where Draco had found the ritual in the first place to be able to come back in time. Black Family magic had sent them back in time, and Black Family magic might just save them from the future that still might come.

“You’re right,” Sirius said with a sigh, and for one of the first times Draco looked up at his cousin to see him looking older than he had in a while. “You’re right. Whether I like it or not, I will lead this house. I have come to accept over the years that I do not necessarily need to lead it in a direction which our parents would prefer. And that I would have the support of the majority of my family if I chose to do so. How can I lead a house if I refuse to try to learn anything about it.”

“You are correct,” Arcturus said, giving him a proud smile. “You will do great things for this house, Sirius. And your family will support you every step of the way. You do not need to worry that any changes you make would be unsupported.”

Regulus nodded at his older brother eagerly, wanting him to know that he stood behind Sirius with every step of the way, and Draco felt himself nodding as well. Sirius had changed so much over the last few years, from the boy who avoided responsibility at every turn, desperate to escape his family, to one who was willing to stand by them and fight for what was right.

Things would be different this time around. They would be prepared. And they would win.

Narcissa Malfoy had dreamed of a marriage to a noble man for as long as she could remember. All she had wanted was a man who would provide her a marriage like something straight out of a muggle romance novel that her mother had banned her from reading. She wanted a husband who would provide for her, while she would give him sons and daughters, and throw grand balls for charity for those less fortunate for her.

And Lucius Malfoy had been everything straight out of one of those romance novels. A man who wasn’t meant to be hers, and yet circumstances pushed them together. He was charming and sweet. During their courting, he had sent her many gifts and letters filled with soft and kind words. He had promised her a life where she would be left wanting nothing. A life full of love and happiness.

And she had fallen in love with him.

It was why she couldn’t understand it when her brother asked her time and time again to break the arrangement off, to leave Lucius and marry anyone else. How could she when the man she saw was nothing but kind and filled with love for her? It hadn’t made any sense, and she had tried to sooth Draco and promise him that she would always be happy with Lucius.

And she had been happy, for a while anyways. Their first few months of marriage were filled with bliss. She would wake up next to him every morning and he would kiss her tenderly. He’d have elves summoned, bringing her favourite breakfast foods to her. He would take her to Paris for dinner and Italy for dessert. He’d bring her home jewellery that he saw on his way home from his outings. He would hold her tenderly until she fell asleep, surrounded by his warmth and safe embrace.

But then he started getting more and more involved with The Dark Lord. Staying out later for his meetings, trying do anything to please the man who was meant to save their world from the horrors it was facing. Who would put pureblood families back on top, where they belonged.

And her husband was passionate about the issue. She knew he was, with how strong he fought each day for what he believed in. For how much he preached the issue to her day after day of why he couldn’t come home earlier at night and why he returned with cuts and bruises that he couldn’t explain.

He might not have told her the truth of what it was that he did, but she knew the truth in it. She read the Daily Prophet as did everyone else, and she read of the attacks on innocent muggles and their children. She read of the attacks in Diagon Alley and in Hogsmeade where her brother had been. She knew her older sister was wrapped up in this mess as well, and it broke her heart to know that she was involved in whatever this was.

And she noticed that it was taking a toll on him. That he was changing from the man she loved once with her entire heart, without the sting of pain hurting her as she thought about it. And she hated how her heart hurt thinking about it.

He got angry whenever she tried to ask him about it, as she had once again just a few moments ago.

“Why does it need to be you?” she had asked him softly, as she healed his cut arm tenderly. “Why must it be you who fights day after day? Why must it be you gets hurt?”

“Because I am fighting for us, Narcissa!” Lucius said, getting a bit irritated as he moved away from her attempts to heal his leg.

“Sit still,” she said, as she gently pushed him back into place, to heal his leg for him.

“You must stop questioning what I am fighting for,” Lucius said, looking at her with irritation. “How many times can you ask the same question? I am fighting for us! Because I believe in us! I am fighting for us to have a future where our children are not subjected to biases simply because the world is more accommodating to those who do not belong in it. Do they not have a right to grow up in a world where they are respected for their status?”

“At what cost?” she asked softly. “The cost of your life? This isn’t worth dying over.”

“Just because your grandfather is too weak to pledge his allegiance does not make it the wrong thing to do,” Lucius sneered at her. “You sister can see why we must do this. She fights alongside us every day because she is aware that it is the right thing to do. And make no mistake, your brother will come around and join us as well, as will Regulus. This is what we must do for having a chance at a better future.”

“Draco will not join,” Narcissa said firmly, “He believes in his cousin. And Sirius would never fight for such a cause.”

“Do not underestimate our plans,” Lucius hissed, standing up. “I will not have you questioning every decision I make. I am your husband. In a few years I will be Lord Malfoy. It is not your place to question me. I thought your family raised you better than that. But clearly their education was lacking.”

He stood up and she tried to protest, but before she knew it, his hand came and hit across her face, as the pain stung her in the aftermath.

She held her breath, watching her husband leave the room. And once the door shut behind him, she fell to the ground, weeping as her reality set in.

Lily stared at the letter in her hands in disbelief, wondering what could have happened that she would have to find out about such a thing through the words of her mother.

Merlin.

It seemed as if the words escaped her as she tried to process the handwriting on the page in front of her that her Mother had sent.

She knew she and her sister were never close, but to find out from her mother, who so innocently assumed she knew of the pending nuptials was something else altogether. It was her sister, in her highest form, pretending that Lily didn’t exist.

It was Petunia Evans giving Lily a metaphorical middle finger; it was Petunia Evans clarifying all at once how little Lily had meant to her, and how their relationship was so badly damaged that she couldn’t even bother writing to her to tell her the news.

She didn’t say a word, crumpling the letter and throwing it into her bag, because maybe then she could pretend this ridiculous situation wasn’t happening and that maybe there was some sort of big misunderstanding.

She must have had a look of exasperation on her face, because James pulled her aside shortly after their last class of the day, into an empty classroom.

“James, I swear if you pulled me in here so we can snog-” she started, trying to pretend that nothing was wrong.

“As much as I love snogging you in empty classrooms, I want you to tell me what’s going on, Lily,” James said, cupping her face gently. “You’ve been silent all morning after you read through that letter you got. You’ve hardly said a word, even when Slughorn praised yours and Severus’ potion, or when McGonagall asked a question which I know for a fact you know the answer to. So what’s going on and why are you upset?”

“It’s nothing,” she said, trying to shrug it off, unsure of how to talk to him about it. Because he knew that she and her sister hardly got along, but this, well this was something else altogether.

“It’s not nothing,” James argued. “It clearly has you upset. And I refuse to stand by and pretend that it is okay. I love you, Lily. And if something is bothering you, I want to know so I can help. So I can make you feel better.”

“You can’t help!” she said suddenly. “You can’t even begin to understand, because you would never do anything as horrible. You’re too kind and sweet and Merlin I hate my sister so bloody much.”

He looked a little shocked at that, and simply looked at her, “Try me,” he said softly, stroking her face gently.

“How could you even begin to understand, James?” Lily asked, a shaking. “You love your sister more than anything in the world. You would do anything for her to ensure she’s happy. It’s one of the first things I noticed about you. That you would burn down the world to make her happy, and I know she’d do the same for you. You love her so strongly that whenever she’s hurt, you rush to her side, whenever she’s upset, you go out of your way to cheer her up. You support her through everything, and make sure that there is nothing that upsets her. You would have changed the entire social rules of this school if she was sorted into Slytherin, and you did simply because she had friends in the house.”

“Because I love her,” James said simply, “I’d do the same for you too, Lily. I’m trying to do the same for you. Please, let me in and tell me what’s wrong. I want to help you.”

“Why doesn’t she love me the way you love Hermione,” Lily said in an almost whisper. And James must have realized right away who she’d been talking about, as he pulls her into a tight hug letting her sob against him.

“She can’t see how utterly brilliant you are, Lily,” James said softly, “And that’s her loss.”

“She’s getting married, James,” Lily said with a sob, “In December. My mother wrote to me telling me how wonderful it was that in a few short months her eldest daughter would be married and that there was so much that we needed to do to prepare. She was writing to me as if it was old news and that I must have known for months now. This is the first I’ve heard of it. Petunia didn’t even bother telling me that she was getting married. And if I’m even invited, it would only be because Mum and Dad would want her to invite me. Not because she actually wants me to be there. Mum told me how she chose her best friend as her Maid of Honour because Janice had her as a Maid of Honour for her own wedding. And since Dursley is choosing three of his college mates as his groomsmen, Petunia wants to balance it out with her own friends. I’m not even in the wedding party. I’ll probably be seated at the back where I can do minimal damage to her on her special day.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, squeezing her tightly, “You don’t deserve to be treated this. Sometimes, family can be the people who hurt us the most. Look at Sirius and his mother, or Remus and his father, or even Severus and his parents for that. But at the same time, you have so many people who love you in your life. Your parents will always love you. Hermione looks up at you as the sister she never had, and honestly, I wonder if she loves you more than me at times. Remus and Sirius would do anything for you. And I love you so much that it hurts to think that someone as brilliant as you could be hurt by a cow such as your sister. Petunia doesn’t deserve to have you in her life and she has no idea what she’s missing. You deserve so much more, Lily,” James told her, and Lily nodded.

“Thank you, James,” she sighed, as she rested her head against his chest, “You’ve given me so much, and I don’t even know what I would do without you in my life.”

“It’s a good think I’m not going anywhere then,” James told her strongly.

She nodded as he held her tighter. Even if her sister couldn’t love her, at least there were others who did.

If Hermione Potter loved one thing, it was being able to fly freely in her Animagus form each full moon. Sure, nothing stopped her from doing so the rest of the month, but it was the full moon when she felt most alive as Talons. When she was able to roam free and watch as her brother and his friends ran under her. Even Draco, in his large snake form, slithering through the forest without a care in the world, as they accompanied Remus through one of the nights a month where he was at his most vulnerable.

The potion had made a severe difference in his life. And by brewing it for him, she could already see the changes to his physical demeanour. He no longer looked as torn up each month, wondering if he’d hurt anyone, since he could remember what had happened. He looked free, running as he kept his own mind.

And instead of looking exhausted the next day, spending it in the hospital wing to recover, he was able to return to his daily life, as he simply slept through the majority of the night, with his family by his side.

If Madam Pomfrey noticed the large differences, she definitely did not say anything; not to Dumbledore, not to Remus, and not to any of them. Perhaps the Mediwitch was simply happy to see Remus doing better, so much more than he had back when they were in their earlier years of schooling. Because he was no longer alone, and he knew how much others had loved him.

He ran with purpose, playing as Padfoot jumped across him and Prongs nudged them with his antlers. The rays of the moon shone through the forest, lighting their way as they ran around the Forbidden Forest. They knew which areas were safe from the other creatures, and they ensured they did not cross any lines. The last thing they needed was a pack of angry centaurs after them.

She was grateful that Peter was gone; she never trusted him in his rat form, and she was grateful for whatever idiotic bond the boys made as children, as it meant that Peter could hardly go around spilling Remus’ secret to those who could cause serious issues for them if he heard. For a werewolf to be running around at night on school grounds, especially with other students, would cause a lot of heads to roll, and the last thing any of them needed was to get Remus in trouble for something which he wasn’t doing wrong, and over something he had very little control over.

As the moon began to shift, she could feel herself growing tired. And as she flew downwards, landing on her brother’s back, she could see the weariness begin to hit them too. She hooted at them and they seemed to understand what she was saying as they turned to head back towards the Shrieking Shack to spend the remainder of the night there. The flight back was short and peaceful, and she landed next to her brother on the grounds of the Shack. Moony lay resting on the middle of the floor, while Padfoot snuggled up against him, as Moony gave the dog a warm look of affection. The wolf, despite his animal form, had love in his eyes, for all of them, as clear as day, as she nestled against her brother’s side, and Draco curled up next to her.

She knew they would only get a few short hours of sleep before they were forced to sneak out, but whatever they got would be enough. It would be more time with Remus, and less time the poor boy had to spend alone by himself. And he deserved their love and affection, especially on the full moon, more than ever. He deserved to know that he wasn’t alone and that he didn’t need to spend the night as a wolf by himself, as she knew he had so often in the past, and even the future when Sirius and James were gone.

She couldn’t help but wonder to herself what would happen to Remus next year. When he was still a wolf yet had nowhere to run each full moon. Where he would live after school, and if the boys would still join him for runs. Whether she would be able to still join him.

It would be harder for sure, given the fact that she spent so much time at the school, and with her brother and the boys graduated, what would happen then?

She tried not to think about it too much; what good would it do to worry about things that were still far away? They had time to figure such things out, and she couldn’t let herself worry about stuff she had no control over; especially when there were so many other things she needed to worry about.

So she stayed there, resting against her brother, closing her eyes for some sleep, trying to let all her fears and worries wash away, even if just for a few hours. And when the rays of sunlight came into the Shack early the next morning, and Remus had transformed back, she stood, changing back into her human form, shook the other boys awake, and they snuck out, allowing Remus to get a few more hours of sleep before Madam Pomfrey came to check on him. Merlin knew he certainly deserved it.

Chapter Text

Chapter 57

Bellatrix stood furiously in Gringotts, waiting to speak to a Goblin. It had been months since the Dark Lord had tasked her with finding out who else was trying to claim the Slytherin Lordship away from her Lord. Months since he had given her the task, and somehow, she seemingly failed each time. It didn’t make any sense to her how it was possible. How hard could it be to figure out who had claimed the Slytherin line as their own?

A line such as that, which was old and powerful, in the hands of a mudblood. She was surprised she hadn’t heard a thing about it yet. Mudbloods were uncouth at times, and she knew if one had claimed the line, then they would certainly be bragging about such a thing for everyone to hear.

And all it took was finding the right person, hearing the right whisper for her to find out the truth. Because even rumours have basis in the truth. She just needed to find the right thread to unravel, and the entire thing would fall apart in front of her.

Instead, it was as if the mudblood who had learned the truth was choosing to hide it. As if they didn’t want the whole world to know the truth about them. As if they were choosing to actually be smart about it, knowing what it would mean to claim the title away from her Lord.

And as optimistic as the Dark Lord was, if the person who claimed the line was truly loyal, then they would have thrown themselves at her Lord’s mercy, promising to follow him, as they helped her Lord make the world a better place. They would have sworn allegiance to him, as the rightful Head of the House. And they would have followed his word.

Instead, they hid, either out of fear of their life, or out of blatant disobedience, not wanting to follow the Dark Lord on his mission, one of which the Hogwarts Founder himself would have supported openheartedly.

“Mrs Lestrange,” a Goblin said, as he tilted his glasses down to glance at her speculatively. “You wished to speak to a bloodlines specialist?”

She looked over at the Goblin, contempt in her eyes, “Yes, and I have been waiting for far too long.”

The Goblin didn’t seem amused, but he led her towards a back room, wanting to clearly hear what it was that she had to say. He gestured to a seat in front of his desk and he climbed up to stand levelly to her gaze.

“What is it you wished to talk about?” he asked, peering over at her.

“I know the Slytherin line has been claimed recently. I am coming on the bequest of my Lord, another member of the house who wishes to reach out and reclaim his lost family member. I wish to know who it was who claimed the line,” Bellatrix said in a cool tone.

“I see,” the Goblin said, sounding bemused, “I am sorry you made the trip here to be let down, Mrs Lestrange. Unfortunately, only a member of the line can claim that knowledge even under ideal circumstances. And the individual who has claimed the line has wished for it to remain hidden for now, so we are not at liberty to discuss that information with you at this time.”

“But you are aware of who it is,” Bellatrix said, trying to gage as much information as possible before she wasted her time. “You know who it is who is trying to claim the Slytherin Line as their own.”

The Goblin did not look impressed with her, simply walking towards the door. “If that is all, Mrs Lestrange, I must ask you to leave. I have other clients I need to discuss matters with this afternoon.”

“Oh, but I am nowhere near done yet,” Bellatrix crackled lightly. “I still have much to discuss with you, Goblin.”

She stood, drawing her wand in front of her, and the Goblin looked ready to activate a charm, however she was quicker.

“Crucio,” she said, and she watched the Goblin fall over in delight, withering in pain. And she knew that his screams would go unheard in the name of privacy. No one would know what she was doing in here. Nor would they be able to do anything about it. The Goblin was at her mercy, until she was done with him. And there was not a thing in the world that they would be able to do about it.

“Tell me who it was who claimed the line,” Bellatrix demanded, and the Goblin simply let out a hurt sound in front of her. The Goblin tried to reach for his charm, but she ripped it off his neck, and threw it off to the side. It wouldn’t do any good for him to summon help.

“Tell me!” she screamed, casting another Cruciatus at the Goblin, only for him to fall back down in anguish.  “Who was it who claimed the Slytherin Line! You will tell me if you ever want any of this pain to stop. Otherwise I will keep going.”

The Goblin didn’t seem to be giving in, and she felt anger rise in her chest once more. How dare this Goblin keep the truth to themselves, when they so clearly knew the truth of the matter? Instead, they insisted on keeping it a secret, when they had no right to do so.

“Imperio,” she hissed at the Goblin. “You will tell me who it is who claimed the Slytherin Line!”

“I…cannot,” the Goblin managed to wince out. “I cannot reveal it, as my magic binds me. Our laws bind me. To do so would be to go against my very being. I cannot reveal who it is who claimed the line.”

Her eyes grew murderous at that, realizing that the lead she had followed had led to a dead end.

“Diffindo,” she spat out, and watched as the Goblin tore apart in front of her, as she realized he was no longer good to her.

And with that, she walked out of the room, straightened her robes, and wiped her appointment off the books. It would hardly do any good for others to learn what she had done and ban her from access to her remaining vaults, now would it?

She would find out who claimed the line, if it was the last thing she did.

Lily fidgeted nervously as she waited for her Potions class to come to an end.

“Lily!” Severus hissed at her as she stirred the Potion below her. “You’re about to overstir! Stop!”

“Oh Bullocks,” she winced, quickly stopping the action. “I’m so sorry, Severus.”

“It’s okay,” he said, giving her a confused look. “The Potion is done. Why don’t you let me bottle it up while you start packing up for the day?”

“Okay,” she murmured, “That sounds like a good plan.”

She began to gather up her things, as Severus handed in their potion. As the class came to an end, she gathered up her books and began to head out of the room, still unsure of what she was doing. But Severus seemed to take note.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, pulling her into an empty room and throwing up a privacy charm around them. “I’ve never seen you so distracted before.”

“I’ve been keeping something from you, Sev,” she said softly. “For two years. I don’t think I’ve ever kept a secret from you for longer than a day. Even when I first had feelings for James, you were the first to know. The first person I told about my Hogwarts letter. The first person who I told about my sister and her cruelty. The first person who knew about any of it.”

“You know you can tell me anything Lil,” Severus told her gently. “You’re my family. My sister. Anything that’s on your mind. Nothing could ever change between us.”

“I know which line I come from,” she said softly. “I know I said I wanted to wait until after Hogwarts so I could get through on my own merit, but at the same time, I was curious. It’s a part of me, and I wanted to know the truth. I needed to know my heritage.”

“You don’t have to explain it to me, Lily,” he said softly. “I know what it means to claim back family that you didn’t think you had before. I understand more than anyone, Lily.”

“But you won’t understand that I claimed my family magic already,” she said softly, “That I’ve known for two years, and claimed my family magic last summer. That I could become the Head of the House if magic accepts me, and if it were something I wanted. That I’ve kept this from you all this time, because I’ve been terrified out of my mind.”

“I understand, Lily,” Severus told her gently. “For it to be something that terrifies you as such, means that it is a big deal. And of course I stand by your side, regardless of what the truth is. I would never not stand with you. I would never forsake you over family. Merlin knows we’ve both had our own issues with families over the years. Whatever it is, I’m here for you.”

“Even if I was related to Salazar Slytherin?” she said softly, not able to meet his eyes.

He looked a little taken aback at that, and how could she blame him when she had the same reaction when she had found out. that if it weren’t for Hermione Potter, she’d probably still be panicking over it.

“Merlin,” he breathed out. “Of course you would be related to him. You never were one for doing things conventionally, were you, Lily?”

She let out a small laugh at the truth of his statement. Why couldn’t she be like Ted Tonks and be related to a family that was long since gone? Or even Severus where his family accepted him with open arms.

Instead, she’s related to the mass murderer who outside the walls of the school, was slaughtering everyone.

He pulled her in for a tight hug, and she felt some of the tension leave her at that moment, despite still being full of confusion and worry.

“I would never stop being your friend, Lily,” Severus told her insistently, “Especially over something like this. However I understand why you didn’t tell me. It’s hardly an ideal situation, is it?”

“No,” she breathed out, “It really isn’t.”

“You were one of my first friends, Evans. You were the first one who I ever connected to on a deep basis, and the first person who I feel truly and completely understood me. And even when Society told us that the two of us shouldn’t be friends for many times over the last decade, we still made it work. Because I love you, and I know you love me too. I meant it when I said you were my sister. You’re my family, regardless of what our blood says. And I know that your heritage is dangerous, and that you are more than aware of such a thing. So be careful, but know that no matter what, I’ll be by your side through it all. And Merlin help us but that gaggle of Gryffindors will never let anything happen to you either.”

She smiled at the thought of their friends, so fiercely protective. That James and Hermione, Remus, and Severus, and even Regulus and Draco, would be willing to do anything to keep her safe, almost to a fault.

“So Slytherin?” he asked, raising a brow at her. “I told you that my house was the best. Even when you try to join another house, you still end up as a Slytherin.”

She laughed at that, “I guess you’re right now, aren’t you? Perhaps a part of me was always meant to be a Slytherin.”

Arcturus Black sat in his study, awaiting his meeting with his grandson-in-law. To say he felt a meeting of such coming for a long time would be an understatement. He had always known that it was only a matter of time before Voldemort came knocking on his door demanding that he hand over his family and his wealth to him in order to make the world “a better place” or whatever other nonsense he seemed to be spinning these days.

So instead of ignoring Lucius’ extension for a meeting, he had responded. Better to know what the Devil had wanted than trying to figure it out from the shadows. And if it placed a target on their back then so be it. Voldemort was already hunting down those who turned their back on him. Already hunting down anyone who dared oppose him. And Arcturus Black refused to submit and join him simply because he was afraid for his own house. He was a Black and Blacks bowed to no one. Especially not a Dark Lord who tried to claim his family as a subordinate of his.

“Lord Black,” Lucius said, entering his study and sitting down in front of him, “I thank you for agreeing to meet me.”

“Lucius,” Arcturus said coolly, “What can I do for you today? I hope all is well with my granddaughter?”

A flash of irritation flitted across Lucius’ face briefly at the mention of his wife, and Arcturus felt himself curiously wondering if his granddaughter’s marriage was as happy as she made it seem to be. Had Lucius been mistreating his wife from the day of their marriage to the day she died? Anger filled him, even if he knew he could not do anything unless Narcissa claimed mistreatment.

“I have come for other matters,” Lucius said smoothly, hiding his previous irritation.

“Oh?” Arcturus asked, raising a brow, “Do tell, son.”

“I have come to formally extend an invitation to you to join Lord Voldemort’s ranks and help cleanse our world of the impurities within it,” Lucius said with an air of superiority. “You and your family’s immense resources could make quite a difference to our fight. We would be able to do things that we currently are unable to now. You and Lord Potter have secured an impressive amount of seats in Wizengamot through the loyalties of other houses. Imagine what could happen if we combined all those seats? We could accomplish feats beyond belief.”

“I politely have to decline your offer,” Arcturus said with a bow of his head, “It is not a cause that I wish for my family or my allies to join, as none of us believe in such a thing.”

And with that, the pretense of politeness dropped, as Lucius sneered at him.

“So you would turn your back on your family and friends?” Lucius asked him, incredulously. “You would betray us? We are trying to make the world one of all our desires. One where we stand on top, where we belong! And instead, you are choosing to stand with the enemy. With the mudbloods who hold no proper stance in our world. Why would you choose not to stand with us, after everything this world has offered you?”

“You and your Lord Voldemort are playing a dangerous game,” Arcturus said, without as much of a look of regret. “You are trying to shift the balance of magic, and such a thing can be devastating to our society. Dumbledore has been doing so for years, shifting our magic more and more light, breaking the balance to the dark. But what Voldmort is doing would forever upset the balance between light and dark. It would devastate our world, kill hundreds of innocents, and forever break the way magic works. And I will have no part in a group that aims to do so. Magic must always remain balanced.”

Lucius looked sour at his words, as if what Arcturus had said seemed ridiculous to him.

“You are nothing but a naïve old man,” Lucius hissed, as he glared at Arcturus. “You forget that magic serves us. That it is nothing but a tool that we use to help us succeed in life. It is there for us to use, because we deserve it. Because we are better than mudbloods and the other creatures that roam this earth. We are at the top, where we deserve to be. Magic doesn’t care about something as stupid as a balance. It is nothing more than an old wives’ tale, meant to help us understand concepts and used to scare wizards into keeping them in check.”

“It seems to me that your father has failed to raise you properly,” Arcturus said, tilting his head at him. “He has not deemed it necessary to teach you properly how magic works and why it works. I hope for your children’s sake that Narcissa deems it necessary to pass on such knowledge to them, or your children will be at a severe disadvantage. Imagine not knowing how magic works then preaching to others of their own misguided beliefs. It would be terribly embarrassing, do you not think?”

“You should worry about your own house, Lord Black,” Lucius spat out at him, as he stood suddenly. “And perhaps you had better come to a different decision as to which side you chose to stand on. For the sake of your own house, you see. I’d hate for my wife to find that all of a sudden she is down a few cousins or siblings, simply because they followed their Grandfather’s old and misguided beliefs, when in fact it is our side which is trying to give them the world they deserve to live in and raise their children in.”

“It is time for you to leave, Heir Malfoy,” Arcturus said firmly, “Give my granddaughter my love for me.”

Lucius sneered at him, before turning and walking out of the room, no doubt to head straight back to his Lord and tell him exactly what had happened.

For once in her life, Hermione Potter was prepared for the Halloween of 1977. She knew that there was a 99.9% chance that her brother, Sirius and Remus, would pull off something or the other and that there was a chance she either wouldn’t look like herself at the end of dinner, or that she would be stuck doing some sort of action which she had no control over.

The smart part of her knew that it was better to avoid the meal all together; she had several essays to write and couldn’t really afford a day where she was stuck some sort of creature or the other. But at the same time, she loved James. And as irking as his pranks could be at times, they were always brilliant and left her full of amazement at their creativity and ability to come up with such different things.

So she dragged herself to dinner, sitting beside Lily as she waited for whatever it was that was about to happen to happen.

She waited for the meal to begin, and to her surprise the boys and Regulus were nowhere in sight.

“Where are they?” Lily murmured, confused, “Halloween is usually the day they enjoy pranking people on more than any other day.”

“Maybe becoming Head Boy means James has finally put it past him?” Marlene asked, slightly hopeful. “Merlin knows I don’t want my hair turning another colour again. Do you know how long it took to wash out the red?”

Hermione laughed, remembering the time James had turned everyone’s hair red in an attempt to match the beautiful shade that was Lily Evan’s hair. Clear to say no one had been impressed. Not even Lily.

But the food appeared before them, and the boys were still nowhere in sight, and Hermione felt herself grow slightly worried. Where were they? What was the reason that they were so late to dinner? Even on regular days, they were some of the first to the meal, ready to eat whatever was put in front of them.

She saw others begin to eat, albeit all somewhat wary. But the absence of the Marauders seemed to give the majority of the students enough comfort to eat the food. And she wondered then if that had been their plan all along. To cause everyone to drop their guard once and for all, so they could trick them to falling for whatever prank they had planned out.

She sighed as she began to fill her plate with the Yorkshire pudding, as well as some chicken and vegetables. She looked around the room, trying to see if anything had happened yet to the others who had begun to eat the food. And when she saw them all looking relatively human still, she began to eat.

“Brave girl,” Marlene muttered as she stared out at the food longingly. “I’m still not convinced it’s worth it. I’m going to wait and see what happens first before I even start eating. No point in turning into some sort of bumbling mess. Merlin knows what that would cause me to admit if I was forced to spill the truth out to others.”

She looked over at the Slytherin table at that, and Hermione smiled softly knowing where her gaze was headed.

“Would that really be such a bad thing?” Hermione asked her, “To admit the truth about what you feel?”

“How long did it take for you to admit your feelings for Black?” Marlene pointed out and Hermione conceded.

She heard a few yelps then and looked around to see the occupants of the room begin to transform into different creatures.

What surprised her the most was looking out at Marlene and seeing her turn into an alien like character she had known all too well from her childhood. More specifically, a Duros, from Star Wars.

It seemed like the Marauders had taken inspiration from a certain movie that had been released for the first time earlier that year.

And around the room, she could see various other characters and aliens from the movie. She could see droids, stormtroopers, Hem Dazon, pilots, and more. She looked down at herself, to see herself turning into some sort of humanoid version of C3P0 and looked amused that Draco had turned into a version of R2D2.

The muggleborns in the room, and even the half-bloods who were emerged in muggle culture seemed to know what was happening. And to her delight, so did a fair amount of purebloods.

“I didn’t even eat the food!” Marlene wailed. “Why am I this ugly creature!”

“They must have spiked an earlier meal,” A Princess Leia version of Lily murmured, “With a time delay potion so it waited until now to take effect.”

James, Remus, Sirius, and Regulus burst in then. James, not to her surprise was Luke Skywalker, Remus was Obi Wan, and Sirius was Han Solo. Regulus on the other hand, appeared to be Chewie, and she couldn’t help but laugh at their character choices.

“My Princess,” James said kissing Lily on the lips as he approached her. “I am pleased to see you out of the hands of the Empire and back with the Rebels.”

She almost laughed at their character choices. Luke Skywalker and Leia Organa. In the time of New Hope, two unknown characters, with only their adoptive families known to them. What would James say when he watched the later movies and found out that not only was Luke the son of Darth Vadar, but his so-called princess was his sister? And not only that, she ended up with Han Solo, or Sirius Black in this case. One thing was for certain, when the final movie came out in 1983, she wanted to see her brother’s face when he found out the truth.

Of course, that counted on the fact that he needed to survive until that point.

“Potter! Black! Lupin!” McGonagall’s voice cried out as she looked up at them as a wolf like creature. “Detention!” She looked over at Regulus, remembering that he too had played some part in the prank. “You too, Black!”

It seemed as if the Marauder’s last Halloween at the school had gone off with a bang after all. And droid or not, their work had been absolutely brilliant.

Chapter Text

While Hermione knew her brother and his friends must have decided on where they wanted their careers to go years ago while choosing classes for their NEWTs, she also knew that it was very different things to simply choose one’s classes and actually think of what they wanted to do.

It was also something she could attest to, given the fact that despite her NEWT level courses being the exact same as her first time around, with nine courses that meant that whichever path she chose to take, she would have her options open for her.

But there was something about watching her older friends riffle through pamphlet after pamphlet that the school had given them that made her really stop and think. Because the older she got in this new life, the closer she got to actually having to consider what kind of career to lead if Voldemort was truly defeated.

“Ooh Master Potioneer,” James said as he picked up the black pamphlet before throwing it as Severus. “This is probably what you were looking for right?”

Severus nodded as his eyes lit up and he took the pamphlet from her brother, “I was looking for this,” he said as he opened it up and an image of a potion on the page immediately began bubbling up with smoke covering the page. And when it had cleared up, it left information on the program behind.”

“Oh!” Lily said, eyes lighting up, “Can you pass that to me when you’re done, Sev? I’m still trying to decide between potions and something related to charms.”

She sighed at that, looking conflicted between the Metal-Charmer pamphlet she had in her hand and the pile sitting on the table between all of them in the library.

“Have you considered Healing?” Hermione questioned, “They work with potions quite a bit, as well as charms, and several other subjects that you excel at. That way you wouldn’t just have to choose a single subject that you like and specialize in it. And you’d be able to apply all your passions into a singular field.”

“That’s brilliant,” Lily said, after blinking for a moment when the option had been presented to her. “It would be a fantastic way to be able to do everything I love.”

Hermione grinned at her, as James looked proudly at Lily, “My girlfriend, a Healer! You’d be absolutely brilliant at it, Lily!”

She smiled at James, and pressed a kiss to his cheek, “You’re sweet,” she murmured, and James beamed at her.

“I don’t know why you’re all bothering to look through these,” Sirius shrugged, “Clearly the best career is Auror. Can you imagine? Getting to catch the bad guys and bring them to justice. And the at the end of each case we’d be the heroes for bringing them to justice.”

James nodded vigorously, “It’s really the best career out there,” James said, before looking at Draco and Regulus, “You both should consider it too. It’s never too early to start preparing for your future.”

“Glad to know you’re passing along good advice to those who look up to you,” Draco said drily.

“Do you think I’m not interested in a career in being an Auror?” Hermione questioned, crossing her arms as she looked at her brother.

James shook his head quickly, “Of course I want my baby sister to follow in my footsteps!” he exclaimed, “But Hermione, you’re absolutely brilliant. I doubt you’d feel challenged enough as an Auror. I figured you’d want to be an Unspeakable or begin a career path that lead you to be the Minister of Magic or something.”

She grinned at her brother, to let him know that she hadn’t been upset by his statement, “That is true. Minister of Magic would be a rather fun career, don’t you think?”

“If anyone could do it, it’d be you,” Lily assured her with a grin.

“What about you, Remus?” Draco asked the other boy who had been silent through the entire exchange. “What career would you choose?”

Remus sighed, “I don’t know,” he said softly. “Any field I go into would require me to disclose the truth about what I am, and based on that itself, I would face discrimination. I can hardly go into becoming an Auror, because it would be a liability. Or let alone a Ministry career, as it would be a scandal if anyone found out. If I work in a shop, they’d either fire me for needing to take a day off once a month, or they’d not hire me out of fear. And if I start my own company to sell potions or charms then if it ever got out about my condition, I’d be bankrupt.”

James looked annoyed for Remus at that moment, “We’d vouch for you! The Heir of the Potter family can still carry weight in the Ministry.”

“And the Black Family,” Sirius said quickly, “Besides, if we have enough votes, we can force the Wizengamot to change the legislation involving werewolves and other magical creatures like Veelas. It’s absolutely unfair that you cannot have a chance at a normal life because of something that isn’t your fault.”

“The Prince family would stand by you as well,” Severus said after a moment, “Lily and I still planned on brewing the Wolfsbane potion for you, after graduation, so it’s hardly as if you’d be stuck losing your mind once a month.”

“Have you considered teaching?” Hermione said after a moment, “Because obviously we’d support you through whatever you decide on Remus. But I think you’d also be a brilliant professor. The way you explain things sometimes are far better than any of our other professors. Specifically, in Defense. You have a way of explaining the subject to the point where anyone could understand what you were saying, even if it didn’t make sense to them to begin with.”

“And Dumbledore accommodated you as a student,” Draco pointed out, “I’m sure he’d be happy to help you as a teacher. Plus maybe you could be the first teacher to make it past a year of school.”

“Professor Lupin,” Sirius beamed at him.

Remus looked thoughtful at that, and she knew she had given him something to think about.

Arcturus sat in his study as he waited for his brother-in-law to join him to discuss what they were going to do next.

“I hope I am not late,” Fleamont said, as he walked into the study and sat across from Arcturus.

“Not at all,” Arcturus shook his head, as he pulled out the notes that his grandson had given him before he had gone back to school of everything that had happened in the past timeline. Suffice to say, they had successfully changed several things, including helping keep his granddaughter in their family as opposed to letting her run off because of her parent’s idiocy in how to proceed with a delicate matter.

“We need to discuss what must happen next,” Fleamont sighed, “Now that we know the truth about Hermione and about Draco, we need to figure out how to help them. They’ve been fighting this battle for far too long, often on their own without the help of any true adult, even in their past life. That changes today. No more will they fight by themselves. Not when we have resources and the capacity to help them. Not when we are more than aware of what would happen should Voldemort succeed in gaining control over the Ministry of Magic.”

“Of course,” Arcturus said smoothly, “The first course of action must continue to be shifting the power in the Wizengamot. If we allow his faction to gain too much control then it is over, for us all. It seems clear that it is what happened in their time, as he gained spies within the Ministry and manipulated the Minister of Magic through bribes with the help of my grandson-in-law, to control what legislations passed, and also what the Ministry believed about Voldemort’s return. While we still maintain control over the Wizengamot, that will not be allowed to happen.  The Dark keeps trying to pass more and more bills which would lead to massive discrimination, and we must continue to block them.”

“We are gaining more support from Dumbledore’s faction,” Fleamont said, sounding unsure of the implications. “It seems as if Hermione and Draco’s decision to bring him into the loop has been politically beneficial, as it means that he is willing to side with us against the legislation. Not that it is a big sacrifice on his part. He was always pro-muggleborn anyways, so his support was counted upon already.”

“We must also figure out what to do next,” Arcturus said, as he gestured to a chest on his desk, sealed with wards and with blood magic. “I have secured the Horcruxes in it. It clearly is unwise for the children to take them back to school, when they are far safer here. No one unauthorized would be able to access it. But I must admit, I am impressed with the wards your daughter had placed upon it herself. They were truly brilliant. You should be proud.”

“I wish I could say that I could take credit for it,” Fleamont sighed, “She is my daughter, and I can see inherited traits in her. But her brilliance, is more than what any of us could have passed down to her.”

“You still raised her,” Arcturus reminded him, “She loves you, ritual or not. Just as I know you love her.”

“Of course,” Fleamont said, smiling. “It doesn’t stop me from wishing she wasn’t involved in any of this, however. I’d much rather prefer if she wasn’t involved in any of this. But she is, and I am going to make sure she and Draco are not alone in this fight, and that they have everything they need to get through it.”

“Starting with how to destroy the Horcruxes,” Arcturus said. “I have read their notes, and it seems like Basilisk Venom was the only safe way to destroy them.”

“I don’t suppose you happen to have any lying around?” Fleamont asked, looking hopeful, despite them both knowing it was unlikely.

“It would certainly make our lives significantly easier if I did,” Arcturus shook his head. “I can try and reach out to several of my contacts though. There is a chance that one of them might be aware of where I could buy some on the black market. It is rather expensive due to the rarity of the venom, but of course, given the reason which we would need it, I would gladly pay the price.”

“I’d much rather none of us have to go face a fully-grown Basilisk,” Fleamont agreed, “Especially one which had been raised by Salazar Slytherin.”

“Your grandson certainly had his share of adventures,” Arcturus said drily.

“He’s a Potter through and through,” Fleamont sighed. “It seems as if the curse of trouble always finding him was passed on to him. Merlin, I read some of Hermione’s notes sometimes and it’s a miracle that nothing seriously harmed them. I don’t know how she’s had the strength to keep fighting for all these years.”

“She’s never had a choice,” Arcturus pointed out, “The alternative is much worse. She’s fighting for herself, for her family, for the entire Wizarding World. Which unfortunately, brings me to my next point. Even if we destroy all his horcruxes, we need to discuss what must happen afterwards, regarding Voldemort.”

“I know,” Fleamont sighed again, “I have been thinking it too. It is not enough to simply destroy them, not when he could make more and keep terrorizing the Wizarding World. We could lock him up in Nurmengard. It has been enough to keep Grindelwald locked up for all these years. It could be enough to keep Voldemort contained as well.”

“You forget that it was because he was defeated by Dumbledore,” Arcturus pointed out, “We all know the tales of Grindelwald. He was a powerful wizard, capable of wandless magic. Just because they snapped his wand doesn’t mean he is entirely powerless. The truth is, he remains locked up because he wants to be in there. It seems that Dumbledore was not the only person who was heartbroken over their confrontation. Grindelwald was stopped because he couldn’t bring himself to kill the love of his life. And Dumbledore couldn’t either and locked him up. It has nothing to do with the strength of the prison. And unfortunately, Voldemort is not in love with anything but himself and with power. We would face no such advantage with him. Locking him up and snapping his wand would not be enough to defeat him. And we must consider what other options that leaves us.”

“You’re right,” Fleamont nodded, “Perhaps there are alternatives, however I must agree that at the end of the day, the fate of the Wizarding World is far more important than the fate of one monster.”

Hermione knew from the moment Peter Pettigrew was exposed for the rat he was, that it was only a matter of time before he found a way to break the confidence the other boys had put in him and exposed one of the largest secrets the boys held.

It happened a day in November when she had been sitting on the grounds, one of the rare warmer days, working through her coursework as she leaned against a tree. Draco was laying on the grass, reading a book on transfiguration for an essay they had, while Sirius was laying on Remus’ lap, pretending to sleep and Remus, trying to read a book on muggle history. James, in the meantime, was playing with the snitch he had nicked years ago, and Lily had her head buried deep in a book on healing, trying to see if it was something she’d enjoy.

And during that fateful day, she had looked up to see Avery and Nott march up to them, a sinister look on their face, while Peter trailed behind them, looking scared out of his mind about the confrontation that was about to occur. It was then that she knew what was about to happen, and she felt her heart sink.

She was grateful however, that no one else was around. There was no one else to hear the horrid things that the Slytherins approaching them were about to spew out.

As the boys approached, all of them stood quickly, not wanting to be caught off guard, and she knew each of the boys were grasping their wands tightly.

“Lupin,” Avery sneered. “We always knew you were hiding something from the rest of the school.”

“I have no idea what you mean,” Remus said, looking as if he wanted to be anywhere but there.

“Oh I think you know exactly what we mean,” Nott spat out. “It took us a while to figure it out, what with the way you cursed your friends so they’d never be able to reveal your secret, or the way they always managed to stop us before we got too close. But I guess you didn’t bet on us waiting til after they had already joined you in the tree. We waited, for hours, until much to our surprise we saw a series of animals make their way out of the tree, and guess what accompanied them?”

Lily looked a little startled, as her mind began to make the connections, and James had paled significantly. None of them had considered that they could be seen leaving the tree.

She wanted to hit herself; she should have known better. She should have put up some warding spell or the other to stop them from being seen. But she had assumed it would be fine, given the fact that the boys had done it for years before in the past timeline with no one having found out. She had been reckless and sloppy. And now others knew. Others who would have no qualms with sharing the truth with everyone.

“How do you think the rest of the school would react to know that one of their peers was a werewolf? That a werewolf slept in their dorms and attended their classes. That a werewolf ate meals with them? Do you think the school would be as calm as your friends seemingly are? Because I don’t think they would be all that pleased by the news,” Avery said, looking disgusted.

“Of course, it could be the push our fathers needed to finally kick Dumbledore out of the school. Imagine the scandal it’ll be when the public found out that Dumbledore endangered hundreds of students,” Nott spat out.

“However, it could work out in your favour,” Avery said, looking thoughtful, “We do know someone who would love to meet you. The Dark Lord would be pleased to meet you and offer you an alliance. He has already mentioned he cares for all creatures and wants to improve their conditions. You, a soldier with Light ties could be a great asset.”

“Except we heard this entire conversation you idiot,” James sneered, “How do you think it would work? We hear your proposal and in the odd chance Remus accepted, do you think we wouldn’t know to watch out for it?”

“They didn’t think that far ahead clearly,” Remus said, looking unimpressed. “But it doesn’t matter anyways. There is no bloody way I would ever join Voldemort. He is a monster and I could never support his cause. So go ahead, and expose me. It wouldn’t change my decision either way.”

“How could you, Peter?” Sirius said, looking at their once friend. “We trusted you. Remus trusted you. And you once again found a way to betray us. I never thought you’d go this far. We were your friends once. Did it really mean so little to you?”

“He really is a rat,” James shook his head. “Completely untrustworthy and a traitor. I can’t believe we ever were friends.”

“You should know, my form is a snake,” Draco said, eyes narrowing at the boy who took a step back in fear. “So if our forms ever cross, I’d run if I were you. Rats make great prey for snakes after all.”

“You had your chance,” Avery hissed. “We gave you a fair chance to avoid everything. So don’t be surprised with what happens. Just know that it is your fault, and that none of this had to happen. You’d better start packing your stuff, Lupin.”

“I don’t think so,” Hermione said, as she drew her wand. “None of you are going to remember this. In fact, none of you are going to remember that there is even any secret around Remus. Especially you, Peter. You are going to forget every little secret the boys ever shared with you. Obliviate.”

The boys looked at her stunned.

“Hermione,” Remus said, shocked.

“I won’t apologise or feel bad for what I did,” she said, looking at her friend firmly. “How dare he threaten you? How dare they try and expose you? You’re my friend, Remus, and I refuse for you to be hurt because a friend you trusted decided to betray you.”

He hugged her, and Sirius let out a whistle.

“Remind me never to get on your bad side, Mini Prongs,” Sirius teased, and James gave her a proud look.

Peter Pettigrew wouldn’t be able to reveal any secrets this time around. That much was for sure.

Narcissa Malfoy née Black knew her husband hated it when she entered his study without him asking her to first. However, it had been a few days since she had seen her husband, and despite their issues, she wished to maintain a relationship with him. She would bear his children one day, and it would do good for them to establish at least a friendship before such a time.

So she knocked gently, however when her husband failed to answer, she pushed the door open lightly. She wanted to have dinner with him, but she supposed she’d need to find him first for that to be likely.

“Lucius?” she called out gently, as she stepped into his study. She looked around and realized he mustn’t have been inside.

She wasn’t entirely sure what possessed her to do so, but she took a few steps towards his desk, hoping to find any letters or notes as to where he could have gone. If he would be absent for a few more days, then shouldn’t she at least know? She was his wife, and she deserved to be aware of where her husband was, if he was not in their house.

She saw a diary on the table, and she picked it up curiously. Perhaps he had written in there about his itinerary and she could be able to gain an idea of where her husband had gone. The book was leather, with gold embellishments on the side. But what puzzled her was the name on the front of it, as it was not the name of her husband.

Tom Marvolo Riddle

Who was that, and why did her husband possess his diary?

She flipped through the pages, confused, as each page appeared to be empty to her. However, it was very clear that the diary was not new and was most likely years old. Did it belong to someone her husband knew?

She sat down in her husband’s chair, unsure of what it meant, and if the diary was at all related to her husband’s absence. Why was this diary in his office?

She reached out to flip another page, and gasped as she accidently knocked over a pot of ink that had been sitting on her husband’s desk and watched in horror as the ink poured out over the table and onto the pages of the diary.

She never should have entered the room. Her husband had strict rules over who was allowed into his study. Even the elves, aside one, were barred from the room. And she had entered it, simply to find her husband for a stupid notion such as spending more time with him and trying to grow their marriage. She just wanted a loving marriage, one she had dreamed of for years with her husband. And now she had broken his rules, soiled the diary on his desk, and spilled ink everywhere. Lucius wouldn’t be pleased when he had found out what she had done, and she prayed that a simple ink vanishing charm would be enough to remove the ink that soiled the pages before her.

But to her surprise, she watched as the ink reached the pages of the diary, only for it to instantly vanish onto the page, leaving no trace of it at all. How was this possible? It would make no sense for the diary to have an anti-ink charm on it or something similar to keep it pristine as that would defeat the point of the diary. But at the same time, it was possible that only a set few were able to write in the diary, and she was not one of the few who could.

“What is your name?”

She saw the words appear in front of her, and she immediately filled horror in her body. She had grown up around dark magic her entire life, and she could feel the magic radiating then off the diary in front of her. But there was something different about the magic from the diary. It wasn’t just dark, it felt wrong. It was twisted, and cursed, and as a witch who had been raised to identify darkness, she knew she needed to stay away from the diary.  She shut it rapidly, and used a spell to wipe up the ink, quickly straightening up the study, before she all but ran out of the room.

She had no idea what her husband was involved with, but she was starting to get a very bad feeling about it.

Chapter Text

Hermione watched as James stood nervously in front of his mirror, trying to tie a tie around his neck, only to make a mistake and restart again five seconds later.

“Here,” she said, as she stepped into his room to help him. They had been back for the holidays for a few days now, and Lily had invited him over to meet her family. And given the fact that Vernon Dursley would also be there, as Petunia’s fiancé, James wanted to make a good impression on them all. She walked up beside him, and carefully tied the tie for him, before proceeding to straighten his muggle clothes lightly.

“Do I look okay?” he asked her quickly, “You know far more about muggle attire than I do. Am I dressing up properly for this? I tried to find something similar to a picture Lily sent, but I’m not sure if I got all the details right. The shop keeper was very understanding, but I’m not entirely sure if he picked out what Lily would have wanted.”

She looked him over, with his jacket coat and formal pants, and gave him a smile, “You look brilliant, James. Lily is going to love it, don’t worry.”

“I just want her family to like me,” he sighed. “I love her, Hermione. I’ve loved her for years, and I want to spend the rest of my life with her. I want a family with her. I want to come home each day and know that she will be the one whom I share a home and a family with. I really want this to go well. And from what I’ve heard of her sister and her fiancé, I’m terrified it won’t. What if I say the wrong thing? What if I do the wrong thing?”

Hermione took a deep breath. She didn’t know very much about what had happened on the day James had first met Lily’s family, but she knew bits and pieces from what Remus and Sirius had told Harry from what James had told them later. She knew the meeting would go terribly. That Vernon would brag and boast about his wealth. And James would want to impress the Evans family, and so he would in turn brag about his own wealth. Cars and well racing brooms would be compared, and the evening would end in tears.

But that wasn’t her James. That was the James who wanted the approval of his girlfriend’s family no matter what. The reckless on who wouldn’t properly think out his actions before doing so. He, who loved fiercely, just like her own James.

“Just remember what Mum and Dad taught you growing up,” Hermione told him gently as she smiled up at her older brother, “That a person’s true wealth can be shown in how they care for others. For they can be as rich as they want, but if they treat their peers poorly, then they are not as wealthy. Because true wealth isn’t how much money one has, but the friends and family who they care for. The memories and love they have. No matter what Vernon will say, you do not need to fall to his level. Lily herself has mentioned that the man can be trying but that doesn’t mean you need to sink to his level. Be as patient and be as kind as you would be to me or Lily. But more importantly, be yourself, and they’ll love you.”

He pulled her into a hug then and she held him tightly.

“I love you, Hermione,” James told her softly. “Thank you.”

“You’ll do fine, Jamie,” she told him with a soft smile. “Give my love to Lily.”

“I will,” he said softly. “I should get going. I said I would drive over so it would be inconspicuous of how I arrived. I don’t think Vernon knows of magic, so I don’t want to break the Statute of Secrecy. Dad said I could borrow the Pontiac.”

She smiled, as her parents had taken to investing in muggle transportation given that James and Sirius had taken a fascination with the muggle world. Of course, they had made them pass the muggle driving test before either were even allowed to consider driving.

“Good luck, Jamie,” she said, and he gave her a smile before picking up the keys and heading out the door.

James Potter absolutely wanted to make a good impression on the Evans family, no matter what. And he had known from what Lily had told him, Vernon and Petunia could be very trying. From what Hermione had told him before he left, it seemed as if he hadn’t made a good impression the first time around, despite how much he had wanted to.

So he would heed her words. He parked the car straightly in the drive way of the Evans’ family home, and stood outside, glancing over at the house in front of him. It was two stories and painted white. It was everything like the childhood home he had imagined the love of his life growing up in.

He took a deep breath before walking up the driveway towards the house, holding the bouquet of flowers that Hermione had chosen out and rang the doorbell. He felt himself grow nervous as he waited.

“James!” Lily said looking relieved as she opened the door. She moved to press a light kiss onto his lips. “If I have to hear about Vernon discuss the difference between management and executives or some nonsense like that then I’m going to lose my mind,” she whispered to him.

He grinned at that lightly as she invited him in. He followed her into the sitting room where he saw an older couple, as well as whom he presumed to be Lily’s sister and fiancé seated.

Lily’s parents stood immediately, “You must be James,” her father said, giving him a quick up and down, “William Evans.”

“Don’t intimidate the boy, Will,” her mother scolded. “It’s nice to meet you, James. I’m Rose Evans, and it is lovely to have you in my home.”

“Thank you for inviting me over,” he said softly, as he held up the flowers, “These are for you. I’m must admit, I was not sure what your favourite flower was, however I knew Lily likes dahlias, so I hope that is okay.”

“Thank you, James,” Rose said, as Will ushered him to sit down, “Dinner will be ready shortly, but can I get you anything to drink before then? We have some tea out, or I can grab you water or something else if you’d prefer?”

“Tea is absolutely fine, Mrs Evans,” James said politely, and Lily gave him a warm smile as he took a seat beside her.

“Of course you would find a boy who barely even knew how to put himself together,” the older girl that James assumed to be Lily’s sister said, giving him a side glance. “At least he managed to get a tie on correctly. How do you always find the ones that are so abnormal?”

“You must be Petunia Evans,” James said, without allowing her words to affect me. “Lily has told me wonderful stories of your childhood and the two of you growing up together.”

“Yes, well, we are not as close anymore,” Petunia said, seeming unperturbed. “It is rather difficult to remain close when your sister has to go to a special school because of her abilities.”

“Petunia,” Will said, giving his elder daughter a warning look.

“What sort of plans do you have for after your schooling?”” Vernon asked, and James looked over at the boisterous man. “After all, it is unwise not to have any sort of plan. I myself started making connections in my year five and found mentors who would assist me in where I needed to go. And after my schooling was complete, I had many job offers thrown my way.”

“Vernon is already in line to being considered as a Junior Partner at his firm,” Petunia boasted, as she smiled at her fiancé.

“That is brilliant,” James said, offering the man a smile.

“Lily, Petunia, may I have your help in finishing setting the table for dinner?” Rose called out to her children, and his girlfriend squeezed his hand before standing up.

“I am still deciding between a few paths,” James said, “At this time I believe I would like to go into law enforcement, as it would be a good way to ensure the safety of the community,” he finished, using the muggle phrases for Aurors that Lily had supplied him with before.”

“Ah a civil career,” Vernon said, with disdain lacing his voice, “Well we always need those looking over us to ensure safety. Especially if one is rather important, they can face greater threats.”

William had a strange look on his face, clearly wanting that particular line of conversation to end. However, Vernon didn’t notice as he went on about the nobility of civil careers. James knew at that moment he could simply state that the job could only be temporary anyways. As the eldest in his house, he would be the Lord of the house of Potter assuming magic did not reject him. It would hardly change Vernon’s perceptions of him, and if anything would hinder him further. So instead he smiled and nodded as Vernon talked.

As Rose summoned them for dinner at that moment, William stood quickly looking relieved.

He followed his girlfriend’s father into the dining room, as Lily seated him next to her and he gave her a smile.

“How did you get here, James?” Vernon asked him as Rose served them food. “I assume you caught a taxi from the station?”

“I actually drove over,” James said, after thanking Rose for the food, “It was rather pleasant; I was worried about the roads being busy, what with it being so close to Christmas and all.”

“What do you drive?” Vernon asked, with a pitying look, “I myself recently invested Ford LTD. A nice practical car. Given the fact that I am getting married soon, I think it would be a good car for my wife and I to have for our first years of marriage.”

He knew at that moment, that despite not knowing too much about cars and their wealth, that he had the more expensive car. And if saying so would be enough to shut the man across from him up, then it would gladly be worth it. But it was Lily, looking at him then that stopped him, as Hermione’s words echoed in his mind. A true measure of wealth was ones’ heart and not the money in their pocket. This day wasn’t about him getting into a pissing contest with his future brother-in-law. It was about him impressing her parents and proving he could be worthy of taking care of her in the future.

“I drove over my father’s Pontiac actually,” James said with a smile. “I offered to buy one a few years back, but he preferred I save my money for my future. And given that I am away at school for most of the year, he was right in saying I didn’t need to own a car at this time. However, in the future I do suppose I will invest in my own car.”

Lily looked relieved at that, and Vernon looked sour as he came to the same conclusion that James had. Petunia gave him a disapproving look, but it did not matter, as Rose and William looked impressed at that.

“A wise decision on the part of your father,” William said with a nod. “There is plenty of time for you to invest in vehicles in the future. However, for now you must consider the present and what that entails.”

“Do you have any other plans for the holidays, James?” Rose asked, shifting the conversation.

“I usually spend Christmas with my family,” James said with a smile. “This year, there is a party being thrown by an associate of sorts of my father’s and given the fact that we are distantly related, through several marriages, we will be attending. If it is alright, may I escort Lily to this party? She could stay for a few days, of course in the room she usually stays in, close to my sister. I’m sure Hermione would love to see her as well. And Severus would be there, given his family’s own invite.”

“Yes I think that would be fine, given Lily wanted to go,” William said, giving his daughter a look to let her know that it was completely her decision.

“Yes, thank you,” she said with a smile. “I would love to go, James.”

“Perfect,” he said with a grin. Merlin knew if he was going to survive a ball at the Malfoys, he wanted his girlfriend by his side.

As dinner came to an end, and Rose all but ushered them out of the room, they retreated back to the sitting room, as Vernon droned on about some way or the other which he was clearly far more superior, going on about normalcy and proper men or some nonsense of the sort. He could see William begin to grow tired, and he stood at that moment.

“I must head out,” he said softly, “My Mother will be waiting otherwise, and I do not want her to worry. But thank you for your hospitality and for having me over. It was lovely to meet the both of you.”

Lily stood then as William and Rose said their goodbyes. “I’ll walk you out,” she said quickly. She followed him out the door, closing it lightly before sighing loudly. “You have no idea how tiring it’s been with them all day, Merlin, I don’t know how you managed not to say a single thing throughout the evening. I was praying you wouldn’t say anything, but I wouldn’t be able to blame you if you hand. God knows they were exhausting.”

“I thought about it a couple of times, but figured you wouldn’t appreciate it,” he confessed, and Lily placed a kiss on his lips.

“My parents loved you, just so you know,” Lily mentioned, “My mum couldn’t stop gushing about you when we were alone. They know the truth, and well, they’ve seen your house when they’ve dropped me off. And she was proud that you didn’t feel the need to boast about your wealth and that it shows character on your part. I think it annoyed Petunia even more. And my father hates the idea of either of us dating, but he definitely liked you, especially when you talked about football with him, as Vernon thinks it is a waste of time to watch.”

“I’d do anything for you, Lily,” James told her softly, “Your sister means a lot to you, even after everything. I’m not going to put your relationship at risk with her. I know how trying the past few years have been for you with her. And I just want you to be happy.”

She leaned into him and kissed him again, more strongly that time. “I love you, James Potter.”

“And I love you, Lily Evans,” he told her tenderly. “Now you should head back inside so you do not catch a cold. Heating Charm or not.”

She smiled at him again, and he headed towards the car before beginning the long drive home.

Hermione sighed as she stood on the steps of the ballroom of Malfoy Manor, holding onto her brother’s arms with Lily on his other side, as he escorted them both down the steps of the room and into the party before them.

She hated being back in the Manor, and no matter how long it had been since her first visit in her old life, she didn’t think she’d ever be comfortable there.

She wished she could be with Draco, but knew he would be with his family, as his sister was the future lady of the house, and whether he liked it or not, that meant to an extent that the Malfoys and Blacks were aligned. And socially he would be required to do certain rounds.

And as her parents had been personally invited to the party, she knew she had little choice in her presence at the Ball.

“Will you be okay for a bit?” James asked her softly, “I want to dance with Lily for a bit, but if you’re uncomfortable I can wait until later when Draco is free.”

She shook her head quickly, “No, don’t wait on me, I think I see Regulus anyways,” she murmured knowing that there were also other things Draco would be doing tonight. After all, they knew the Cup was in play, so it was fair to say that the Diary would be as well. And here they were, in the very house that it was likely that the Diary was. How many other chances would they have like this in the future? And besides, Lucius would be occupied while Abraxas was playing host, so it gave Draco the perfect opportunity to look for it.

James nodded as he led Lily out onto the floor, and Hermione smiled at the two of them.

“They do make a lovely couple don’t they?” she heard a smooth voice say from over her shoulder and she looked up to see Lucius standing there. “It is however a shame about her family. She’s rather brilliant and imagine how much more she could be if she only had the proper background.”

“She makes up for it in other ways,” Hermione said, politely. “I must say this is a lovely Ball, Lucius. Please pass my regards onto Narcissa for her efforts.”

He smiled at the mention of his wife, “I’m sure she would be glad to hear it. Would you do me the honour of giving me a dance, Miss Potter? There are some things I wish to discuss with you.”

“Of course,” she said, not wanting to be rude when she was in public and had very little choice in being able to refuse his demand. “It would be my honour to dance with the host.”

He smiled at her, and she knew that he was aware of how little she wanted to be there, as he led her out onto the dance floor. She could see James shoot her a worried look, but she simply shook her head. It was better to know exactly what it was that Lucius wanted. Especially given the fact that she was aware that her recent actions had attracted the attention of Voldemort. Better to know what they were saying than be fighting blind.

She glided across the dance floor, with his hands on her waist and he spun her around lightly, “You are a rather good dancer, Hermione,” he said smoothly as she moved with him.

“Thank you,” she accepted his compliment, “However I am certain you did not ask me to dance simply for the sake of it.”

He smiled at her, “You would be correct in that assumption. You see, I asked you to dance because I find myself wanting to talk to you about certain matters, and I have been unable to do so until this point.”

“What sort of matters?” she asked, feigning ignorance.

“It is no secret that you and my brother in marriage are rather taken with each other,” Lucius said to her. “I would not be surprised if he approached your father after your schooling is complete to ask for your hand in marriage. And when such a thing occurs, you and I would become family.”

“It seems we would be,” she acknowledged. For while she and Draco still hadn’t discussed their futures together beyond defeating Voldemort, what he was saying was true in the event of her marriage to Draco.

“I do not wish for our families to be torn apart, in the years to come,” Lucius said, giving her a look. “While it seems that Lord Black is keen on keeping his heir as Sirius, Draco is still second in line to the Lordship. If anything were to happen, you would find yourself as the future Lady Black.”

“I pray that nothing befalls Sirius,” Hermione said, glancing at where her cousin was sitting, “He has become like a brother in the past few years, and I would be inconsolable if anything happened to him.”

“As would we all,” Lucius said, with falsities. “I care about my wife, Hermione. I do not wish for her to have to learn that her family is all fighting on a different side than her husband. We all do want a world of peace and one where we can thrive.”

“I am unsure we want the exact same thing,” Hermione said, with a shake of her head.

“You have been on the wrong side of this,” Lucius told her the, and she could feel the cold in his voice. “Your family is fighting against what they should be supporting. The things we could accomplish with their support, with your support. We want a better world, and yet you fight to bring about its destruction, and it will end poorly for you. I can assure you that much, Miss Potter.”

“I will fight for what I believe in,” she told him firmly. “I just hope you can come around, for Narcissa’s sake.”

He gave her a pitying laugh, “There are those who are rather interested in you, and I must admit while I can see why, power wise, I am aware that you are foolish and will not be swayed, even if it was the lives of your family at stake. But take into account, Hermione, that perhaps you should consider siding with us instead; us who will succeed regardless of what obstacles are thrown our way. And perhaps if you did, you would be able to accomplish a great number of things.”

The song came to an end then, and she said, “I will take your words into consideration; however you may let your master know that I am uninterested in his offer to join him at this time. I cannot fight with someone who will bring the end of magic, because he does not truly understand its power or sentience. And until he does, magic will never fully accept him either, if ever.

He was about to retort then, when she saw Draco approach then, as he cut in. “May I steal my girlfriend for a dance, Lucius?”

Lucius seemed unhappy then, but she did not care. Instead, she slipped into her boyfriend’s arms, as he spun her further onto the floor and away from Lucius.

“Are you okay?” he asked her, and she nodded.

“He wanted me to join him in fighting by Voldemort’s side,” she said with a sigh. “He knows who we are now. And even if he doesn’t know the truth, he knows of us. We’ll need to be more careful with everything from here on out. there’s far too much to lose at this point. But did you find it?”

He dipped her lightly and she moved with him as the music played behind them.

“No,” he said with a sigh, as Narcissa took the floor with her husband at that moment, the two of them looking like they were trying to put on a show for the rest of their guests about their marriage, and she wondered then how truly happy Narcissa Malfoy really was. “I looked everywhere for it but couldn’t find it. If it’s hiding somewhere, it might be hidden with blood magic, so even if it were in front of me, I couldn’t see it. I guess the ritual worked, and I truly am not a Malfoy anymore.”

“You still are you, ritual or not. It didn’t change your personality, and I still love you,” she murmured. “We’ll find the diary, one way or another. It was always a long shot that we’d be able to find it today, and even if we did, it would have raised suspicions. We’ll plan another way to get it.”

He kissed her lightly then and she smiled up at him, as she let her earlier tensions fade, and she relaxed into him.

Chapter Text

Hermione stood on the grounds of the Potter family home, as she felt the winter winds blow around her.

It was time for her to finally claim her birthright, claim what their family had hid for so long, out of fear, and the desire to protect themselves. It was time for her to finally claim the Gryffindor line for her own.

It had been something she had thinking about for years, wondering if she was doing the right thing by doing so, wondering if it even were hers to claim. The birthright had belonged to Harry in his old life, his to claim if he wanted, his to use,

But James had insisted that she take it. That his future son would always have the Potter and the Slytherin lines to claim, that it was okay if he could only claim the Gryffindor line through blood but not through Lordship. Because at the end of the day, despite none of them speaking the words, they knew it would be her and Draco who fought Voldemort. No matter how much her parents hated it and wished she could let someone else take the burden, they knew it would fall on her shoulders in the end. It would have to be her, because otherwise the timeline would continue on as it had been in the past, and James and Lily would die, leaving Harry as the Saviour.

Even if it were someone else in the end who defeated Voldemort, she couldn’t stop fighting. Not now, not when they were less than four years from the death of her brother and his wife. Not when they had almost all the horcruxes within their reach. No, they had to keep fighting.

So she stood on the Potter grounds, her family forming a circle of sorts around her, to offer their support through magic and support of the claim as the ritual began around her. She picked up the knife her mother had given her earlier, one that had belonged to the Blacks for years, and despite it not being a Gryffindor heirloom, she knew it would work for their cause. As her blood was just as much Black as it was Potter and Gryffindor.

She gingerly cut into her palm and the drops of blood fell out onto the ground in front of her as her family began chanting around her of their support to her claim. She felt the winds pick up around her, as the candles her family had placed around her to create a circle lit up, as Magic acknowledged her ritual.

“Ut sis facis te meque recipio domus Gryffindor,” she recited, as she pledged her claim to the House of Gryffindor. “Ut liceat mihi, domine Gryffindor”

The winds picked up, swirling around her to form a circle around her, and she felt herself lift into the air, feeling terrified and exhilarated at the same time. The worst that could happen was that magic rejected her, and she remained the same as she always was. If she was not meant to be the Lady of Gryffindor, then she could accept it, for it would mean there was someone worthier than her. Someone like Harry.

She felt magic reach into her soul, as it filled her veins, flowing through her, and her father had told her beforehand that magic would determine her worthiness. That it would reach into her mind and soul to determine her intentions and if they aligned with the magic of the house. She felt memories subconsciously flood her mind, memories of both her lives.

Of Harry and Ron and the adventures they undertook. Of trying to protect the Philosopher’s stone, of trying to save the school from the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets. Of trying to rescue Sirius and her aiding Harry through the Triwizard Tournament. Of fighting in the Ministry of Magic, and in both Battles of Hogwarts in her sixth and seventh year. Of continuing fighting until she returned to the past. Of the pain of losing everyone she had held dear to her, her parents, the Weasleys, Ron, Harry, her professors and her fellow students.

She was filled with memories James and their childhood. Of befriending Severus and Lily and changing the course of their friendship to her brother. Of losing Peter Pettigrew. Of befriending Regulus and seeing his relationship bloom with his brother. Of her love for her family, and her desire to do anything to save them. To restore the balance to magic. To save them from the doomed future she returned from. Of Draco, and the love she felt for him, the life she could have with him, if they succeeded in their mission.

Because it wouldn’t be the end of the world if the Gryffindor magic denied her, because she still had so much love and support around her. And she would continue fighting either way.

She was still dangling in the air when she felt the candles lift into the air around her, and she could see James watching in disbelief, unsure of what was happening. And she too, was filled with confusion. But she didn’t fight it, simply embracing what was about to happen, knowing it must have been part of the ritual she was casting. And while every ritual was different for each line, meaning there was little way she knew if what she was doing was similar to other Lines, she knew that this felt right.

“Miss Potter,” she heard a voice call out, and she looked out to see a figure standing in front of her, one she recognized all too well from the paintings in Hogwarts.

“Lord Gryffindor,” she said with a slight gasp. She wasn’t entirely sure if the rest of her family could see him, or if it was magic itself manifesting before her in his form.

“It has been a long time since someone has tried to claim my line,” he said, giving her a faint smile. “What are your intentions in doing so, when so many before you have chosen to leave the claim?”

“My family wanted me to,” she confessed, “I want to. Because if I were to have the Gryffindor magic behind me, it would make it easier to achieve my tasks. It would give me stronger magic to be able to take part in the fight that is to come.”

“And what tasks may that be?” he asked, cocking his head up at her.

“I want to restore the balance of magic between Light and Dark. For too long it was shifted Light, and while it was wrong it wasn’t as destructive as what is to come. If magic shifts that far Dark, there will be no coming back, no chance to restore the balance. Magic will die, and our world with it. Our world will lose witches and wizards out of persecution from their own kind. Our world will die,” she said softly.

“But if you achieve your task, you will still be the Lady of Gryffindor,” Godric Gryffindor reminded her, “What will you do after?”

“I’ll keep fighting for our world and changing it to the better,” she said, “To create laws to give those who have lesser status in our world currently more rights. To create a world where my children can grow up safe and without fear of battle. Where they will only know love and not discrimination. Where they will know loyalty and not betrayal, as I have faced many times. I will fight for a world filled with justice and with love, where those whom I care about will never face the same pains they felt in the original time line. A world free of prejudice and hatred based on blood purity.”

“And the Gryffindor line is necessary for such a task?” he asked herm raising a brow.

“No,” she confessed, “I would understand if I were not worthy. The magic is not mine to claim. It belongs to Harry, my best friend and future nephew. He’s the true representation of Gryffindor. Brave and loyal to a fault, willing to do anything for his friends, and always fighting for them, even if he did not ask for battle. He is the one who deserves the claim to the title. If Magic rejected my claim to the line, I would not be upset nor would I fight it, for it would be what was right.”

He gave her a soft smile, “Perhaps it is your own belief that you are not as deserving for it that makes you all the worthier. Your nephew does not exist as of yet, and there is nothing stopping him from claiming it in time if it is what he desires and chooses. Or your children may choose to attempt to claim the Headship as well, if it is what they desire. However, your heart and your soul have showed me that you only have the most noble intentions for my line. You do not wish to use it to further your political stance or to give you an advantage, or even for the wealth. You wish to claim it to help others. And I cannot think of anything more noble than that.”

She looked up at him in shock, “Does that mean?”

“Use it wisely,” he said, giving her a knowing look, “And keep your friends close to your heart. They will be great allies to you. Especially Miss Evans. A Slytherin and a Gryffindor once fought together, allow them to fight together again.”

She felt the fire from the candles begin to swirl around her as it took the shape of a Griffin and she was dropped to the ground as the fire entered her body, leaving her in darkness.

“It’s done,” she said softly, looking at her family with soft smiles, “Magic has accepted me.”

“Hermione,” her mother said warmly as she pulled her daughter into an embrace. “I never doubted that it would. There is no one more deserving than you, my darling.”

“I’m proud of you,” her father said, giving her a smile. “It is time for our family to reclaim our titles and not hide from it any longer. And you would make a wonderful Lady Gryffindor.”

“My Lady,” James said, giving her a mocking bow. She laughed as her brother wrapped his arms around her. “I’m proud of you, little sister.”

“Now, let’s get out of this cold, shall we?” her father said, as he ushered them back inside. “I think this calls for a celebration.”

She grinned at her family, as she followed them back inside.

“It was absolutely horrible,” Lily breathed, as she scooped a bite of ice cream in shovelled it into her mouth. “Merlin, the entire wedding was just dreadful. I don’t know what I would have done if James wasn’t there, keeping me sane.”

“It couldn’t have been that bad,” Hermione said, trying to be optimistic, despite knowing about Petunia Evans all too well.

“Oh it really was,” Lily sighed. “I don’t think I even would have been invited if Petunia could have managed it. I wasn’t even in the wedding party. She found a way to have me sitting in the back row somehow, saying there was a mistake with the charts. And then she had the nerve to pretend that it wasn’t all on purpose. And the entire time Vernon referred to James as some sort of magician, as if he were nothing more than some sort of street performer.”

“Yeah, it was great,” James sighed as he sat beside them on the couch, his tie undone and his jacket lying on the armrest beside them. “Merlin, your sister is a piece of work.”

“Tell me about it,” Lily grumbled. “The entire time his horrid sister kept telling me that I should get pregnant soon by a nice wealthy man because I had good child bearing hips and that I could easily pop out four or five and never have to work a day in my life. Of course that would be if a husband was gracious enough to look past my horrid red hair.”

“His entire family is insane,” James agreed. “I think one of his sister’s dogs wanted to bite me. Thank Merlin his mother wouldn’t allow them into the wedding hall. Instead they just growled loudly the entire time.”

“Well at least it’s over?” Hermione state optimistically, giving her friend a smile.

“Thank Merlin for that,” Lily said softly. “So tell me about your break, Hermione. James told me that you claimed the Gryffindor line, and I’m so proud of you for doing so.”

“Thanks,” Hermione said, offering her friend a genuine smile.

“What was it like? I heard about the ritual, but do you feel any different?” Lily asked her curiously.

“Kind of?” she said, scrunching her nose, “The magic in me feels more potent than before, and I suppose it’s because I can actively feel the Gryffindor magic alongside the Potter magic in my body. I was always connected fully to my magic, but at the same time, it feels as if it truly has been awoken inside me. I feel more alive, and powerful.”

“That’s brilliant,” Lily marvelled. “I’m glad you claimed it. It means so much for our future, and given my heritage, it means even more for our two houses. Slytherin and Gryffindor were once great friends, torn apart by differences in ideologies, and it led to years of fighting between our two houses and many students. Perhaps this can bring our families close together, in more ways than one.”

“Godric Gryffindor said something similar to me during the ritual,” Hermione admitted.

“You saw Gryffindor?” James asked her, looking surprised.

She looked at him a bit confused but realized then that the magic mustn’t have extended to him as well.

“He is the one who determined my worthiness,” Hermione told him, “He determined I was worthy of carrying the Gryffindor Line.”

“Merlin,” Lily breathed.

“Does this mean you’ve decided to claim the Slytherin line?” Hermione asked her, a little astounded.

“I think it is time, do you not?” Lily asked her with a smile. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while now, and if magic decides to accept me then I will proudly carry the title of Lady of Slytherin.  It’s time to show the world that Slytherin does not have to be the enemy any longer. And how better to unite the two houses than to show our solidarity in this fight. A Slytherin and a Gryffindor will stand together once more.”

Sirius sat beside his boyfriend of nearly two years outside their common room, as Remus sat without saying a word.

It had been a particularly rough full moon for him, what with Hermione being unable to provide the potion that month as Slughorn had accidently knocked over their stash in a drunken stupor. And with their prior stash used already, it meant that Remus was unable to have the potion that month.

And on top of everything else, Remus had accidently scratched James in his wolf form. And while James had been in the form of a stag and thus hadn’t been affected, he knew it had affected Remus.

“Are you okay?” Sirius said after a couple of moments, taking Remus’ hand in his own. The entire morning Remus had look worn out and as if his mind was running through several different possibilities, and all Sirius wanted to do was assure Remus that everything was going to be fine, and that they all still loved him, even with a small mishap. He couldn’t promise Remus that nothing would ever happen like that again, but he knew that it didn’t matter to him, that he loved Remus and that he would always be there for him, no matter what happened.

“We need to talk,” Remus whispered softly, as he looked up with Sirius. There was pain in his eyes.

“Good,” Sirius said as he leaned against Remus, “It’s good to talk about what you’re feeling, Love. You shouldn’t keep it inside you all the time. I love you, and I’m always going to love you. Anything you’re going through, I want to be able to help you. I want to be there for you.”

“You can’t though,” Remus said, harshly. “You can’t make me less of a monster. You can’t promise that I’ll ever not hurt anyone I love. That my entire life I won’t be struggling with this, because I will be. This is my life, Sirius. This is my burden.”

“Never call yourself a monster,” Sirius said with a slight snarl. “You are one of the best men I know. You’re pure hearted and love deeply. You’d do anything for those you love, and I know you’d do anything for me. You are not a monster. I can’t promise nothing will ever happen, but I can promise you that I love you. And that I will always love you. That I will share the burden with you.”

“You shouldn’t have to!” Remus yelled out, “You shouldn’t have to share any sort of burden. You deserve so much more than that, Sirius. You deserve to be with someone normal. Someone who isn’t persecuted by the law, and why shouldn’t I be? I’d put your entire family at risk once a month. I can’t even get a job without someone giving me special consideration. I can’t offer you anything, Sirius. I’d constantly be a burden on you, and you shouldn’t have to live a life like that. You deserve so much more than that sort of life. You deserve to be loved, to be cared for, to have someone who can proudly stand by your side. Someone who would never put you at risk or make you do the things that you do for me.”

“I don’t want someone else,” Sirius said, realizing where Remus was going, and pleading filling his voice. “I love you, Remus. I want you. Even if you left me today, then I’d never be able to move on and fall for someone else. I could never love anyone else. Not like I love you. Please, Remus.”

“I can’t,” Remus said, with a shake of his head, “You’re the future Head of the House of Black. You deserve someone who can give you a proper family, and someone who would be able to proudly stand by your side. All I’d be is a nuisance. I’d be in your way and burden you further. You’d never be able to achieve the things you would if I weren’t by your side. You’d have no hinderances, no one stopping you from forming certain alliances, because I was by your side. You’d soar and do so well. You have such a bright future in front of you, Sirius. And I can’t offer you anything but a life of having to constantly deal with my problems. And I love you too much for you to have to live that sort of life. I can’t do this anymore. Not knowing that I am holding you back. I’m setting you free, Sirius. You deserve so much better than me.”

“I want you!” Sirius yelled out, as Remus stood. “I don’t want anyone else, I want you!”

“I’m sorry,” Remus said, as he all but ran out of the room.

He felt his cheeks grow damp as he sat on the bench. What did he do now, that the love of his life had left him? He should have seen this coming, really. It was only a matter of time before Remus decided to end things, and break Sirius’ heart while doing so.

Peter stood nervously outside the Dark Lord’s study as Lucius Malfoy gave him an encouraging nod.

He still had absolutely no idea if what he was doing was the right thing, but he knew that the was absolutely tired of doing nothing.

He didn’t know what it was, but he knew that something had changed in him. That he was missing something that had been there before. Something was gone and he had no idea what it was. And every time that he looked at his dormmates now, he was filled with a sense of loathing and of anger. He knew they were hiding something from him, but he had no idea what it was.

All he knew was they constantly spoke in secret, snuck out after hours, and would stop speaking whenever he entered the room as if they were hiding some big secret that they didn’t want him to know. And he knew that he was bloody tired of it. He was tired of listening to them do so and having their own secret and excluding Peter.

All he ever wanted was to be their friend all those years ago, and it never happened. They never wanted to be his friend, not the same way they had become each other’s.

But Avery and Nott, and even Lucius Malfoy had never left him feeling left out. they had welcomed him in with open arms and insisted that they didn’t care if he was different, or not as strong or smart as they were. They accepted him anyways, and they were wonderful. More so than his dormmates ever could have been.

“Go on,” Lucius said, as he all but shoved Peter through the door, “You wanted this, remember Peter? This will be good for you. It will give you a chance to reach outside your comfort zone. You’re ready for this, Peter. There is nothing wrong with asking for what you desire, and for more power.”

Peter nodded as he took in a deep breath. Lucius was right, and he had only wanted to help Peter. He stepped into the Dark Lord’s study, feeling a sense of confidence for what he was about to do. He could do this.

“Welcome, Mr Pettigrew,” The Dark Lord’s voice boomed out as Peter saw him sitting at the desk in front of him, “I was informed you wished to meet with me to discuss something of importance.”

“I do, My Lord,” Peter said shakily. “I wish to ask you for your help in a matter.”

“What sort of matter would that be?” Lord Voldemort asked him, raising a brow.

“I wish to be of more use to you. I am tired of feeling weak and inferior, and as if my actions will never be good enough. I am tired of my peers treating me like I am trash that they can walk all over,” Peter said, shaking, more out of anger than fear at this point. “I want to be able to show them all that I am not some sort of trash they can under estimate, and that they should fear and respect me. that I am better than they think I am.”

He wanted to show Hermione Potter that he wasn’t some pansy that she could trample all over for no reason other than that she simply didn’t like him and wanted to control everything about her brother and his friends’ lives.

He wanted to show them all that he was something they should fear and cower from rather than something to laugh at.

“I see,” Lord Voldemort said, giving an appraising look, “And how is it that you think you may be of service to me? What is it you think that I need from you?”     

“Anything you wish, My Lord,” Peter said, bowing down slightly, “I do not presume to believe that you could ever need help from someone like me. It is rather that you’d be helping me overcome those who oppose me, and I would be grateful for your assistance. If I could be helpful to you in any such way that allows me to become stronger, then I would gladly do so.”

Voldemort gave him a sinister look at that, and Peter all but gulped then, praying he didn’t just agree to sell his soul, “Well Mr Pettigrew, it seems like I might have a task that is absolutely perfect for you.”

Chapter Text

Fleamont poured his brother-in-law a glass of firewhisky as Arcturus Black sat across from him in the Potter family home. Even with the fact that his children had already been in school for years, he had to admit that at times the house felt far too quiet for his liking. Especially when his grandnephews had moved in, and a combination of their friends were always around.

And he had grown to love the company as it made his home feel livelier. But there was always an absence when his children headed back to school.

Euphemia, he knew, felt the pain as much as he did, and often threw herself into various charity work and such to occupy her time, while Fleamont used it to deal with the politics of Wizengamot and the constant influx of new legislation and support that Lord Voldemort’s faction seemed keen on bringing in at any turn. And in the need for fairness, they couldn’t just turn away each bill the moment it set foot in the house, or the power could be misused. So he was forced to listen to law after law of the Wizengamot members proposing the law being clearly biased one way or another.

He wasn’t as young as he used to be, and he knew he still would have to continue on as member for a few more years, to allow his children a chance at having a life of their own before they were forced to take over greater responsibilities. Especially given the fact that his children now would each be the respective heads of their own houses.

“You must be proud of her,” Arcturus said as he took his glass from Fleamont, and Fleamont sat down on a chair beside him. “Hermione claimed the House of Gryffindor which has remained dormant for far too long. It gives her an advantage in the war that is to come.”

“I am,” Fleamont said with a nod, “I know it worries her at times that she is undeserving of the house, but really, I can think of no one who deserves it more than she. Ritual or not, my wife and I raised her. We love her. She’s our daughter, through and through, and the right to the house belongs to her just as much as to James. And well, James has his hands full with the future lordship of Potter, which I know isn’t anything he’ll want to claim for a while. I hate the idea still of her and Draco having to go against Voldemort, and every fibre of my being wants to keep that from happening. But they’ve also seen a world that we haven’t. They’ve seen the consequences first hand of what happens if we fail. I refuse to allow that to happen to my children this time around. They will be protected from all of this. I will keep them safe.”

“She is also everything Godric would have loved. A passionate soul who would fight for those he loved without fail, who would do anything to keep them safe, regardless of what it meant for them. She would make his house proud,” Arcturus said raising his glass to his lips. “She will use the power wisely.”

“I know she will,” Fleamont’s eyes softened at the thought of his daughter. “She’s always been logical and strong. We kept the secret of our ancestry for so long, trying to shield our family, especially after the Potter Massacre of 1756, when our family was targeted by the Perevells over our claim to the cloak. Our family nearly died out, and it’s just us and Uncle Charlus and Aunt Dorea. But Merlin knows they are getting up in age themselves. I would do anything to keep my family safe. And the way to keep Hermione the safest is giving her all the resources I can, including the family magic that none of us have claimed our of necessity for centuries.”

“She will do you proud,” Arcturus said with a soft smile, “She is a bright girl after all. I do have my qualms about leaving the fate of the Wizarding world in the hands of her and Draco, for I do not think it is a responsibility that they should have to shoulder the burden for all by themselves. However I trust that they would be able to handle it, more than anyone. We always knew there was something different about the two of them. They were too talented for anyone their ages, too knowing, too advanced. Your family kept it a secret to save them in the past, but now, it could be what helps save them all. Especially with rumours I have been hearing about a challenger for the Line of Slytherin. If the new member of the family stands by us, then it gives us a sizable advantage in all of this.”

Fleamont nodded knowingly. While he had his suspicions onto the new heir, he didn’t voice them.

“I do hope that one day it our houses may be united once more,” Arcturus said with a tilt of his head, “However this time, instead of it being a daughter of the House of Black to the son of the House of Potter, it would be a daughter of the House of Potter to the Son of House of Black. It is only fair that we return the exchange.”

“You just wish for the Gryffindor line to marry into Black blood,” Fleamont accused, though a smile tugged at his lips. The time had long passed since he was able to think of his children as too young for relationships or their futures. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t hold on to the two of them as long as he could.

Arcturus laughed, “Our children are going to revolutionize the world, Fleamont. All my grandchildren are involved in this, some way or another. And we both know James Potter will not sit out this fight when so many he loves are involved. Hopefully the world we are setting up for them to inherit will be enough.”

Fleamont raised his glass, “I’ll drink to that.”

Peter took in a deep breath of the fresh, salty air as his Lord apparated them to the tip of a dark rock, with a high cliff towering above them. The water was foamy under them, and he immediately felt his stomach begin to churn.

“What are we doing here?” Peter squealed, and Lord Voldemort gave him an unimpressed look.

“I was under the impression that you wished to assist me,” Peter said, raising an eyebrow at him. “Was I mistaken?”

“No!” Peter scrambled quickly, “That is precisely what I wished to do. I didn’t mean to question you!”

Despite the age of the older man, he moved quickly down the path which sent Peter’s stomach spiraling. It couldn’t be safe for the two of them to make the descent downwards, as water submerged the rocks he tried to climb down.

For a brief moment he contemplated turning back, saying that he had made a mistake and that he wished to help in non-perilous ways. But it had been him who had approached Lord Voldemort in the hopes of being able to bring down Hermione Potter a peg or a two and to prove his worth to one who could truly make her suffer. And now he had to live with the consequences of that action.

As they reached the water level, the Dark Lord stopped, pointing out a narrow pass up ahead.

“That is where we must go,” he told Peter, immediately grabbing onto him as they apparated towards it.

The Dark Lord proceeded forward, climbing up a set of steps as Peter moved forward as well.

There was water in the cave and Voldemort’s eyes glistened brightly as he cast a spell over it, and immediately he saw body parts begin to move in the water.

“Many muggles have died on the attempt to visit this cave,” Voldemort said with a sinister grin, “It was truly foolish for them to have tried, as it is impossible for those without magic to make their way here. However they will guard my cave valiantly now. Come along, Pettigrew, we still have far to travel.”

He moved through the cave, and Peter struggled to catch up, as they didn’t have much room to walk. As they came upon a secondary lake, in the middle of the tunnel, Voldemort turned to him.

“Transform,” he commanded, “I do not intend this boat to be able to carry more than one occupant, so I do not wish to account for your weight.”

“My Lord?” Peter squeaked.

“Into a rat, Pettigrew,” Voldemort sighed, “You did mention that you could?”

Peter thought back, unsure of what Voldemort was saying, but rage filled him instantly. Had this been what Hermione Potter had stolen from him? Memories of a life with friends who had cared about him before she had come along and ruined it.

“Now, Peter,” Voldemort said, looking at him impatiently. “I do not have time to dawdle all day.”

Peter had no idea what to do, for he had no recollection of how to turn into the rat in question. He didn’t even know why he was able to turn into a rat. But it was neither the time nor the place. Instead, he concentrated, more than he ever had in his life, and he felt himself shift.

Lord Voldemort climbed into the boat, as Peter scampered in, and instantly the boat began to move, even without his efforts. They moved through the water, as an island approached. He felt himself whimper as Voldemort merely lit his wand and proceeded forward. The boat docked moments later, and Peter climbed out of the boat before returning to his human form.

Peter watched in amazement as he pulled out a shrunked basin and placed it on the centre of the island, growing it to full size.

“Now, I need you to drink the potion in it,” Voldemort instructed, “As I need to place an object of great value here for safe keeping. The potion will not allow me to place it otherwise.”

Peter looked worried but upon receiving the meaningful look from Voldemort, he immediately began to drink the potion in front of him. Voldemort handed him a goblet and he gulped before taking a glass of the potion and swallowing.

He felt fear fill him immediately as his peers surrounded him, laughing at him over every little mistake and error he made, and he knew he must have started screaming but he couldn’t help it. He was brought back to that day in fifth year when he had snapped and lost everything, dangling there as everyone laughed, and he felt fear fill him.

“You killed us Peter,” he heard James say, as Sirius sneered at him. “You killed us when you chose Voldemort over us.”

“I didn’t have a choice,” Peter pleaded, “He would protect me when you abandoned me.”

He didn’t even notice Voldemort place an object in the basin as it immediately filled back up again or the spell he placed over it. Instead, Voldemort simply sneered at him as he demanded he turn into a rat once more.

“Water,” Peter gasped.

Voldemort shook his head, “Transform Peter. It’ll cancel out the effects of the spell. We need to get going after all and there is no time left to waste.

“Please,” Peter breathed heavily but he knew the Dark Lord would not budge. He summoned all his will power and turned back into a rat and Voldemort re-entered the boat. He climbed back in it quickly, and the boat moved towards the shore once more.

As they got out of the boat, Voldemort turned to it. He looked back at the boat where it glowed as Voldemort cast a spell upon it, “Only I can call it back now,” he murmured as the glow began to fade away and the boat remained hidden from view.

Voldemort moved quickly towards the entrance of the cave, as Peter scampered behind him. As they reached the apparition point, Voldemort stopped once more.

“This is where the first test will lay,” Voldemort murmured, “If anyone manages to get this far.”

He cast a spell silently and Peter watched as rock began to cover up the entrance behind him, and nearly let out a gasp. Voldemort grabbed him before he could say anything, and they apparated quickly back to the rock they first landed on.

“There is an anti-apparation curse on the entire area now,” Voldemort informed him, “No one, besides myself, would be able to return. But come along Pettigrew, it is time to return you to school. I am sure your peers will be wondering after you”

Before he knew it, he landed back at the gates of the school grounds, gasping and panting, exhausted from the journey.

“Pathetic,” Voldemort said with a shake of his head, “But you proved yourself useful. Now, if you ever mention what happened tonight, I will dump you back in the cave with no way out.

He began to say his thanks out of gratefulness, but Voldmort was already gone, leaving Peter by himself.

When Bellatrix Lestrange found out the news of the Gryffindor line, she knew very well that it meant that her lord would not be pleased.

Why would he? It was a direct challenge, an act of defiance against him by someone who her lord had tried to recruit. And by her doing so, it would certainly mean her death. Of that much Bellatrix Lestrange was sure of. Because even if her lord did not wish to actively go after Hermione Potter, then Bellatrix would gladly do the same.

She was a blood traitor, a disgrace to the meaning of being a witch. She and her brother had singlehandedly swayed the boys in her family, wooing them over to the Light side and away from everything that their family had held dear. And in combination of her grandfather actively denouncing the Dark Lord’s ideals, it had doomed their family.

And now, her brother was taken with the young swot. He cared about the girl, losing sight of what it meant to be a Black. Of what it meant to believe in the purity of blood and of family and all the ideals their mother had instilled in them growing up.

He would throw it all away because the whore had brainwashed him into believing her false lies of the Dark Lord’s origins and his inability to claim his family magic for his own.

They could have stood strongly together; all the Blacks together, fighting for what they believed in. They could have fought together, as a family, to save their world. And instead it would never happen. Instead they were fighting against each other. Instead, she was no longer a Black because her grandfather had cast her out of the family, no doubt because of her brother, and no doubt because of Hermione Potter.

“You brought news, Bellatrix?” Lord Voldemort said, standing to gesture her into the room.

“I have found out that the Gryffindor Line has been claimed, My Lord,” Bella said, rushing the words out. “It was claimed a few days ago. The Line, the Headship, and the inheritances have all been claimed as such.”

“I see,” Lord Voldemort said softly, as he summoned Nagini towards him. “How is it that you came to find out such news?”

“It becomes a matter of public record, even if it is not advertised,” Bellatrix said looking towards him. “I have no doubt that it will be made public knowledge soon enough when it suits the family best. However, as I have been combing the records, trying to find out who claimed the Slytherin magic, I came across it, and brought it to your attention as soon as possible. I thought it only fair if you found out as soon as possible, as opposed to when such a matter became public record.

“And who was it who claimed the Gryffindor Lordship?” Lord Voldemort asked her, and she felt a shiver flow through her as his eyes met hers. Even years into her marriage, her husband never remotely made her feel as he did with as much as a gaze. She knew that he had no interest in such matters, but she would gladly give herself over to him if he ever wanted her to.

“Ladyship, my Lord,” Bellatrix corrected him slightly, not wanting to sound too aggressive. “It was claimed by Hermione Potter, my Lord. Upon further research, it seems that the Gryffindor line merged with the Potters through the marriage of a daughter of the Gryffindor house to a son of the Potter family. However as it was a secondary house, it was never claimed. Until now.”

“I see,” the Dark Lord said, looking pensive at that. “Hermione Potter has claimed the line of Gryffindor. It seems as if a direct challenge to the offer I have made her a year ago to join my side. For Slytherin and Gryffindor did stand against each other in their falling out all those centuries ago.”

“Lady Gryffindor or not, she is no match for you, My Lord,” Bellatrix said, looking over at her lord confidently, “Salazar Slytherin was always stronger than Godric Gryffindor. And as their descendants, she is no match for you either. You will defeat her, easily.”

“That was never a question, Bellatrix,” Lord Voldemort chided her softly, “However I do not take kindly to the act of defiance on her part. Perhaps it is time that I paid the girl another visit, to get her to give me an answer on my offer. Perhaps I can convince her to stand by my side, for she would be a formidable ally. However if she cannot be persuaded, then she will not stand in my way as a threat.”

“I would be happy to take care of her for you, My Lord,” Bellatrix said, eager at the thought of being able to make the girl pay for everything she had done.

“We will get to that soon enough. But for now, Bellatrix, remember your task. Find out who it was who claimed my family as their own. For they are a threat if they will not stand by my side. And if they will not be agreeable, then they must be dealt with, family or not.”

Severus Prince very much did not want to be here right now. In fact, he’d rather be anywhere else than be wandering the streets on a holiday as abhorrent as Valentines day. And yet, somehow, he had allowed Lily to talk him into attending the Hogsmeade trip with Marlene McKinnon as she didn’t want him to be alone while the rest of them were all off on their varying dates.

He supposed he could have spent the day camping out in library alongside Remus Lupin who was very much trying to pretend that the day didn’t bother him as his terminated relationship lingered over the group. And while Lily had told him that neither boy were coping well with the fact, Severus very much had no inclination to get involved. Not when they were utter dunderheads and it was clear that they were very taken with one another.

He supposed they would work it out, in time, or they wouldn’t. While he understood the need for Remus to be afraid for their future, given his condition, he knew very well that the boy’s friends would gladly tear down any barrier he faced in his life because of it, out of love and out of loyalty. It was clear that Sirius Black loved the boy, and well, with the future Head of the house of Black, Potter, and now Gryffindor behind him, there was very little stopping Remus from having a happy life. Hell, he was sure that even Lily would throw out her name, if she ever claimed the Ladyship for the House of Slytherin. And as irritating as he found them all at times, he had to admit that Lupin didn’t deserve the hand he had been dealt any more than Severus deserved to grow up with an apathetic mother and abusive father. So he would stand by the boy as well, to help in any way that he could. Not that it would be easy to overcome something such as the prejudices that their world still held for such things.

But even with the way the two boys were moping over each other, Severus knew that he much rather would prefer to be with Lupin than on a date.

Even if he found the girl he was with to be rather stunning.

Even if he never would admit that aloud to anyone.

“You seemed oddly displeased,” Marlene said, looking over at him, with a teasing look on her face, “I don’t think your lip could curl any more with distaste.”

“It’s all too…pink,” Severus said, with a slight sigh. The girl had planned the date after all, at Lily’s insistence, and he couldn’t help but take it in with severe anguish.

“A little pink never hurt anyone,” Marlene said with a slight roll of her eyes.

Merlin, they were going to end up in Madam Puddifoot’s weren’t they? He felt his heart race out of fear as they moved closer and closer to where the store was, but to his utter surprise they stopped a few shops just before it.

“We’re here,” Marlene said, as she grabbed his hand and pointed to the shop, Potions Paramour.

“What?” he asked, seeming slightly surprised as she dragged him into the shop, and immediately he saw potions boiling around them, and different scents filling the air. Where had she taken him? “What is this place?”

“It just opened,” Marlene said with a grin, “It’s a hybrid potion store, where they brew different potions that cause you to feel different emotions and sensations and imbue them into the food that you are served. It’s supposed to be an amazing experience from what others have told me.  I figured it would be something you would like, especially for Valentines day, over going to something overly pink.”

He turned to her, looking stunned as looked nervous all of a sudden. Marlene McKinnon, perhaps one of the most beautiful girls in school, had taken him to a restaurant that would be interesting to him, rather than some sort of stereotypical date. She had found something that he would like, instead of dragging him to some pink cat filled place that half the girls were currently dragging their boyfriends to. She had done so because she had cared for him.

Perhaps Lily had known what she was doing when she told Severus to take her out. perhaps it wasn’t some poor attempt at match making because she knew that Severus was intrigued by the girl yet set them up because she didn’t want any of her friends to be single.

Perhaps she had been able to see something which he had missed all these years, so caught up in his education and his family that he had missed what was right in front of him.

Her hand was still intertwined with his from her dragging her in earlier, and he used that to pull her in closer as he pressed his lips to hers tenderly.

She let out a slight squeal of surprise but quickly wrapped her free hand around his waist and pulled him in closer as she moved her lips against his, kissing him softly in return.

“I take it you like it?” she let out a breathless laugh when she finally pulled apart.

“I do,” he said, looking only at her, and she grinned back at him.

“Took you long enough to notice,” she laughed, and he grinned back at her. Perhaps Valentines day was not that bad after all.

Chapter Text

While Hermione Potter did not have a relationship with Alice Prewett beyond a typical roommate relationship, it wasn’t to say that she wasn’t fond of the girl. Alice had always been kind to her, even if they didn’t revolve in the same social circles.

And as callous as it may have sounded, any plans to alter the future for Alice and Frank Longbottom were not her immediate priority. Because it wasn’t that she didn’t think they deserved to be saved from being tortured into insanity. Alice was such a lovely girl, and it broke her heart to think that one day something could happen to her which made it so that she ceased to exist in the same way she did now.

But with all that being said, Alice already had access to her family magic, unlike Lily who she had aided in doing so. She already was fighting on Hermione’s side and did not need Hermione’s friendship to reconsider. She was strong and opinionated, and no doubt would be a great ally in the future. But any plans necessary to save Alice and Frank could not be put into place just yet as she still hoped that if she and Draco were able to destroy Voldemort long before Halloween of 1981, then there never would be a reason for Neville to be targeted either. That the prophecy would not exist.

That wasn’t to say that in the worst-case scenario that she wouldn’t set up precautions for Alice and Frank, Merlin forbid her brother was killed alongside Lily. She would never let Neville grow up without his parents.

Alice was a lovely girl, and while they did have classes and ate together from time to time, they never had become as close as she had with Lily, the Blacks, Severus, and Remus.

She knew that Alice had been seeing Frank for a few years now and remembered that over the winter holidays that she had met his mother, and from the way Alice described Augusta Longbottom, Hermione knew very little had changed over the years given the few times she had met Neville’s grandmother.

So it was hardly a surprise to her when Alice returned from their Valentines day Hogsmeade trip grinning brightly and Frank had the proudest smile on his face. Despite there being a year age difference between the couple, it had never stopped them from knowing how they felt about each other, through it all.

She wondered what it must have been like for Neville and Harry growing up, only knowing their parents through stories from others, and never quite knowing what their parents had been like. She remembered Harry’s face light up at the slightest story about his parents, and she knew that if anything happened, she would make sure her nephew knew his parents’ memory and knew just how much they loved him. Because she knew James, for all his pranks and jokes, would be the kindest father anyone could ask for. She could see it in his protectiveness of her, and the way he had taken Draco and Regulus under his wings. He would love Harry so much. And Lily, the voice of reason who would stop James from going overboard but would love Harry and had died in the past to save him.

Did Neville have anyone to tell him those stories if not to just compare him to his father, like his Grandmother did? Did he have anyone to tell him how much his parents loved each other? How they fell in love, how Frank had the brightest smile on his face and Alice looked like she was floating on a cloud when they returned that day from the trip?

Did he have anyone to tell him the story of how his parents became engaged?

“Frank proposed!” Alice squealed as she sat down beside Marlene, Lily, Mary and her. “It was so romantic. He took me on a walk through Hogsmeade, to all the places we went on our first date there and he got down on one knee in Madam Puddifoots and told me he needed me more than he needed oxygen to breathe. That he loved me more than there were stars in the sky or magic in our world. And that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me.”

She looked over to where Frank was sitting, surrounded by her brother, the boys, and a few other of the boys in their year, where he was beaming brightly, and she felt her heart melt at the thought of how deeply the two loved each other, without any hesitation.

“Of course, I still have another year of school, while Frank graduates, but we’ll wait til I’m done school. I’m seventeen anyways, so what’s a few more years when you share the love that we do?” Alice asked, still seeming breath taken at her engagement.

“Congratulations, Alice,” Hermione offered her a genuine smile, “You deserve it. I’m glad the two of you have found each other. It isn’t every day we find someone to share our lives with who we just know will make us happy. And I’m glad you and Frank have each other.”

“Thank you, Hermione,” Alice said, giving her a genuine smile, “I still have to write home to my parents. Merlin knows my cousins will be ecstatic about the fact.”

Hermione’s eyes widened at the mention of her cousins, as she had known that Molly had existed in this time. But as the girl was significantly older than she was, the two never had overlapped in school.

Still, seeing the loving look in Alice’s eyes were enough for Hermione to know that no matter what, she would need to try and save Alice and Frank from their fates. She would not let another child become an orphan due to this war. Because even if they were still alive, what kind of life were they living? She wouldn’t let Neville grow up without knowing his family either.

Fleamont sighed as he worked his way through the notes his daughter had provided him on her former life. Even though he had gone through it many times, it never got easier reading through it.

It had hurt to know that his son and future daughter-in-law had perished in the war, because a madman had wanted to kill his infant grandson. That he had been successful in the past because he and Arcturus had failed.

To read that his grandson had grown up alone and unloved. That he knew nothing of his family or his world. That he had been thrown into it utterly unprepared because Albus Dumbledore was doing what was necessary for the Greater Good. That he and Euphemia must have also perished if they weren’t able to take in their grandchild.

It hurt to read the adventures his grandson and now daughter had gotten up to. Adventures that children never should have been involved in. His grandchild had faced Voldemort more times than most adult wizards now currently have.

And he had survived, time and time again. His grandchild had brought down Voldemort.

But Merlin, if it didn’t nearly give him a heart attack to read about some of the things they got up to. The Philospher’s stone, really? What was Dumbledore thinking, keeping it in the school? How did he allow Quirrell to remain in the school? There was no way he wasn’t aware that the man had been possessed. Given the dramatic personality change. Severus had been able to figure it out.

And locking up his surrogate son, really? How could anyone believe that Sirius would willingly betray James? The thought was inconceivable, to anyone who saw them together. The boys all loved each other dearly, they were family! Yet it was Dumbledore’s confirmation that had condemned Sirius.

Or allowing his grandson to partake in the Triwizard Tournament. Because while the magic might have been binding, Harry had been a child, and thus could not willingly submit in such a tournament. Any adult wizard should have known a child’s magic could not bind them, especially if not submitted willingly. Yet he had let his grandson participate in a task where there were dragons! Dragons!

And then the bloody Ministry of Magic decided to sweep the entire thing under the rug because they’d rather bury their heads in their asses rather face the truth. Because it would mean that they would need to get off their cushy asses and actually do their jobs.

Merlin, he would never let Fudge become Minister of Magic. The fool was incompetent clearly, and very easy to convince to see his way. Far too easy for his liking.

And then the Chamber of Secrets; something that had happened simply because Lucius Malfoy wished to one up Arthur Weasley. Merlin. His grandson had been bitten by a basilisk. His grandson had destroyed a horcrux, using ingenuity. And his grandson had singlehandedly kept Hogwarts open.

Merlin.

He had no doubt in his mind that his daughter was more in instrumental in his grandson’s successes. There was a reason Harry Potter had asked her to come back. More so than just the emotional pain of the journey. But because his daughter was capable and strong and would do whatever necessary.

And yet he hated that it had come down to his daughter needing to time travel to save them, because it meant that they had failed. It was putting the burden of survival on her, and the burden of the fate of the Wizarding World. It was too much for anyone to carry on their shoulders. And she never should have had to carry that weight.

“It seems like Basilisk venom is our best bet to destroying these Horcruxes,” Fleamont said with a sigh as he looked up at Arcturus. “Every other method is too unstable to seriously consider. Fiendfyre is far too dangerous.”

“I suppose I could try and find some on the black market,” Arcturus mused, “However it is a rather rare ingredient, given that there have not been basilisks for years. They’re too hard to breed, given obvious issues. So I am unsure of whether we would be able to get any successfully.”

“What other options do we really have?” Fleamont asked with a sigh.

“There is one,” Arcturus said, after a moment, “But it is less than ideal.”

Fleamont looked up at the man and he continued.

“Lily is the descendant of Salazar Slytherin. If anyone can enter the chamber, it would be her,” Arcturus mentioned.

“So you know,” Fleamont said, looking at him.

“As do you, clearly,” Arcturus mentioned with a tilt of his head. “It is hardly a surprise. She was always a powerful witch, even without her family magic behind her. And from your daughter’s notes, it is clear that your grandson inherits her abilities. If anyone can open the chamber, through parselmouth, it would be her.”

“We can hardly ask her to enter the Chamber of Secrets and slay a basilisk, Arcturus,” Fleamont said, sounding slightly exasperated. “It would be far too unfair for her. Even if her son is able to in the future, it is not a task that anyone should willingly take on. It is far too dangerous to even consider.”

“And yet we may not have a choice,” Arcturus sighed. “We need to destroy these dark objects, Fleamont. The fate of our families depends on it. The fate of the Wizarding World depends on it. You’ve read your daughter’s notes. Voldemort cannot be defeated without the destruction of the horcruxes first. And the only viable way we have at this moment is to use basilisk venom. I’ll try and find it on the Black Market, but if not, then we have very little options left.

Fleamont nodded at that, a grim look filling his face, “We’ll leave it as an option. A last resort. But in that case, she will simply open the chamber for us and we’ll do the slaying. I do not want any of the children down there. Not when they have a much bigger part in all of this to play. I refuse to allow them to be hurt.”

It was nearly a month before the news of her Ladyship broke to the general masses of the public. Her father had been insistent that it was done carefully, for it was a strong political move and was hardly the sort of thing that could be broken to the world lightly.

There were many factors at play; for one, she was still underage, for all intents and purposes, but claiming the Ladyship made her essentially an adult in the eyes of the law. She could hold the Gryffindor seats in the Wizengamot and vote with the other Heads. She could now practise magic outside of school, despite being a few months from her seventeenth birthday. She could do most things an adult could.

And yet she was still in school, and still sixteen. She wasn’t an adult, not really, not yet anyways.

On top of that, the Gryffindor title was no small one. It carried a lot of weight still, despite the fact it hadn’t been held in years. It had a significant inheritance, both magic, title, and wealth wise. It was a lot of power in the hands of a sixteen-year-old witch.

So her father, whom she had appointed as a proxy for her in Wizengamot had insisted on breaking the news to the public as an official announcement rather than some rumour that spread across the nation.

It was on the morning after her father broke the news that the general student body began to get involved, and the first questions were thrown her way.

“Oi Potter,” Stebbins, a seventh year Gryffindor said as he came over to her. “Or is it Gryffindor now?”

Hermione turned to face the older boy, “I have not chosen to change my last name at this time,” Hermione said. “So I will still be going by Hermione Potter.”

“So?” Stebbins asked her, “What does this mean now? Are you suddenly in charge of all of us? Do you own our house and all the assets of Gryffindor? Are you in charge of Hogwarts as there are no other founder’s heirs around to claim their titles? None of the other Lordships have been claimed after all. Not officially.”

His questions had gathered a small crowd around them, filled with curious students who all wanted to know what it meant for a student to claim such a prominent house, especially one as old as hers was. Even with the new influx of students claiming their family magic, no one had claimed a house as powerful as hers. Well, Lily had technically claimed her family magic, but it wasn’t as if that was public yet.

“I am not now nor will I ever be in charge of the Gryffindor House in Hogwarts,” Hermione told them, “That is not a family title, but one passed down by the Professor currently holding it as the Headmaster or Headmistress sees fit. The school is also not owned by any one founder, despite their creation of it. My being the Lady Gryffindor does not hold any weight in regard to your schooling. I might feel a stronger connection now, to the magic that my ancestor imbued in this school, but that is about it. However, the founder’s descendants can still hold seats on the Board of Governors, which has become more of a formality to leave them vacant over the years. But for now, I wish to focus on my education, and not controlling it. I feel like that may be a conflict of interest.”

“Why did you claim the magic?” a timid third year asked, “You already have the Potter family magic in you.”

“My family thought it was time we claimed our heritage given the current status of the world. It was time for us to stop hiding in the shadows. Besides the Potter Lordship belongs to my brother and I have no intention to challenge him for it. It belongs to him as his birth right,” Hermione said and James grinned at her.

“So we don’t need to listen to you then,” the seventh year said, brining himself back to his original point. “You do not have any control over us because you are now the Head of the Gryffindor House.”

She sighed at that, “Lady Gryffindor or not, I still am a prefect, and as such, you still need to follow all the rules of our house or I will dock points. That does not change regardless of my ladyship. However no, my title of Lady Gryffindor does not give me any actual power to control you.”

Sirius rolled his eyes at her over the notion of her being a prefect but there was a soft smile on his face as he looked at her. James, on the other hand, looked extremely proud as he grinned at her.

“Do you think we can tell Professor McGonagall that we only recognize Hermione now as the Head of our House?” Sirius said, looking slightly excited by the notion.

“You may try, Mr Black,” Professor McGonagall said, coming up from behind them, clearly having heard the entirety of the conversation, as she looked less than pleased by it, “But do not be surprised if you find yourself in detention.”

She had a stern look on her face but smiled as she looked at Hermione, giving her a nod of approval, “Congratulations on your Ladyship, Miss Potter. You wear the title well. I have no doubt that you will accomplish many great things and bring the Gryffindor name to accomplish greater feats than it had before.”

“Thank you, Professor,” Hermione said with a smile, as she glanced back over at Sirius.

Sirius looked off put by the fact, but it didn’t stop him from breaking into a banter with McGonagall.

Somethings, she supposed, would never change.

When Draco’s elder sister asked him to meet in Hogsmeade that weekend, he couldn’t help but feel slightly worried.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t close to Narcissa. She had been his mother, for Merlin’s sake. She had raised him, loved him, and had been there for him through everything. And even as his older sister, she had constantly watched out for him, constantly cared for him, constantly made sure that he wasn’t overwhelmed with school or with their mother, who had a way of become overwhelming at times. Who had a way of being a little to stress inducing on their children.

And now that she was married, he found himself seeing less and less of his sister. It should have worried him, knowing the man his father would become. But he had hoped that it only happened the closer they got to the future. His father had been distant growing up, saying that showing emotion was a weakness of men, but he had never been as cold as he had gotten until Voldemort had returned and they had lost the trust of Voldemort when his father had been arrested.

So he had hoped his mother would be fine.

But now, here she sat across from him, sipping her tea carefully as she seemed worried, tugging at the sleeves of her robes, trying to make them seem longer. And he worried then that perhaps he had been too late. That he had relied on the fact that his father never became outright cold until the late 90s. But now with his mother across from him, he couldn’t help but feel that he had failed her. The one person he wanted to save, and he had failed her.

“Draco,” she said softly, “Thank you for agreeing to meet me today. I had some things I wished to discuss with you.”

“I always have time for you, Narcissa,” he told his older sister softly, “How are you doing? Has everything been fine with you?”

“Everything has been lovely,” she said, the façade of a perfect society wife covering her face and emotions like a mask. But he gave her a look and she let out a slight sigh. “Something has been the matter, and I have come to you because I am unsure of how I should proceed, all things considered. But I know you will be able to contact Grandfather. So I have come to you today because I need to ask you of a favour. It is not strange for me to reach out to my younger brother, whom I have not seen in a few months. However, Lucius will grow suspicious if I reach out to Grandfather, as the two of us have never had a close relationship.”

“What is the matter, Narcissa?” Draco asked his sister softly, a deep pit forming in his stomach as he tried to figure out what could be wrong.

“I love my husband,” Narcissa told him softly, “I loved him from the moment we met, and even know, after everything I love him, Draco. He was so kind to me, the first few months of our courtship, that I felt like a heroine in a romance novel. I thought he would be able to give me the life I had always dreamed of, the life I always wanted. So I accepted his proposal without even a second thought.”

“Has something happened?” he asked her urgently, wanting to know what had shifted.

“He’s changed, Draco,” she whispered, “He is no longer the man I fell in love with. He is obsessed with helping the Dark Lord and stays out for days at a time without returning home. And when he does, he is so angry at times. Especially when things have not gone his way. He gets so angry and so upset and when he is like that I-” she took a deep breath. “I get frightened of him, and I am unsure of what to do.”

“Has he hurt you?” Draco asked his sister urgently, needing to know the true nature of his sister’s marriage.

“It hasn’t been anything I haven’t been able to handle,” Narcissa said softly, “That is not why I am here, Draco. I am here because there is something I must give you. Something I found in Lucius’ study. I am uncomfortable with it in my house. It is dark magic, evil magic. It has a compulsion on it, and I can feel the raw power of it, draining my magic from the one instance I used it. I fear what it may do to Lucius if I leave it in his possession any longer than necessary.”

He looked at his sister, sharply, wondering if perhaps she had in her possession the object they had been searching for, for far too long.

“Narcissa,” he said softly, “Can I see the object?”

She nodded as she pulled out her bag and handed it to him. He reached over the table, and nearly gasped when he saw the diary in it. Narcissa, his sister, had just handed him the Diary of Tom Riddle.

“Please,” she said softly, “Give it to grandfather. He’ll know what to do with it. He’ll destroy it or lock it up. I can’t have it in my house.”

“Lucius will get suspicious,” Draco warned her. “You cannot return home without it. If he finds it gone, he’ll know that it must have been you who took it. I will not allow you to endanger yourself by giving it to me as such.”

“It cannot remain in my house,” Narcissa said firmly, “I refuse, Draco.”

“I know,” he told her gently, “Geminio,” he cast over the diary, as a second one appeared. “Place this back exactly where you found it. It contains none of the dark magic as the original but will not be enough to arouse your husband’s suspicions. I’ll take care of the Diary, Narcissa. You need not worry about that.”

He wondered as he placed the diary in his robes, if she had any idea of just what the object was, other than the dark magic it contained.

“Narcissa, I want you to know that you are not trapped in this marriage,” he told her softly, “Grandfather will help you if want him to. He can protect you. And if not him, then Sirius when he takes over. You are not trapped. You have options.”

“I know,” Narcissa told him with a soft smile. “Thank you, Draco. You are growing up into a brilliant young man. I’m proud of you.”

He felt himself shake slightly as his mother gave him a tender look, and he found himself longing for the time when she had been his mother, and the love she had given him. They stood then and he found himself throwing his arms around her. If Narcissa had been shocked, she didn’t say anything, instead she held him tightly.

“Now,” she said after a moment, “I think it is time you head back to school.”

He nodded softly, the diary digging against his side. The sooner he dealt with it, the better.

Chapter Text

Hermione had known something must have been up from the moment Narcissa had asked to meet Draco that day in Hogsmeade. It wasn’t as if the two didn’t have a close relationship. But since Narcissa’s marriage to Lucius Malfoy, she had reached out less and less to her siblings. It had been something Draco had confided in her, as he had admitted a few years ago that he was worried about what would happen to his mother now that she was in the hands of the husband who had abused her and the man who hadn’t prevented her death, only enforced it.

Andromeda, on the other hand, had not been worried by it. She simply had told Draco that their sister was fine, simply busy trying to adjust to her new life as a married woman. Especially one who had married into a prominent family and was learning how to balance her new priorities. And that meant she wouldn’t always have time to reach out and write to them about everything and anything.

But she didn’t know the truth that Draco and Hermione did. She didn’t know what Lucius had done to Narcissa in that other world. She didn’t know that he had contributed to her death. That he had stood by while their sister had carried out the task.

“Hermione,” Draco said, as he joined her in their spot in the library. He looked worn out, an she wondered just what had happened that day when they had met up. Had everything been alright? Did something happen?

“Draco,” she murmured as he sat beside her in the library. She quickly threw up all their wards as she leaned toward him. “Is everything alright?”

“I met my mother, and she had some unpleasant news,” he said with a slight sigh of frustration. “It turns out that my father was always an asshole. She’s scared of him, even if she didn’t want to say it in as many words. He abuses her; I can see it from the way she got tensed up any time the door opened, frightened that he was on the other side. She’s unhappy but there’s nothing I can do for her. I asked her to leave him, but I could tell that she wasn’t interested in the idea. That she has no intention of ever leaving that bastard. Even if it kills her eventually. And I don’t know what to do about it.”

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, reaching out to take his hand in hers. “She doesn’t deserve to be in a marriage like that.”

“She deserves so much better,” Draco agreed. “Instead she has my father who is so busy throwing himself into Voldemort’s good graces that he can’t even bother acting as if he were a good man. It drives me insane. She doesn’t deserve this, Hermione. I just want to go to her and take her away from that house, so she isn’t trapped. But she wouldn’t leave. I think it would take something major for to even consider that it could be an option for her.”

“We’re going to defeat Voldemort,” she promised him tightly, “We’ll defeat him and lock up everyone who sided with him willingly. We’ll make sure your mother is free from your father and that he can never hurt her again. She’ll be free.”

“Speaking of,” he said, as he pulled out a black book from his bag and placed it on the desk in front of her.”

“Draco,” she gasped, “Is that the Diary? How in Merlin’s name did you get your hands on it?”

“Narcissa,” he said as he stared at it. “It seems Lucius had the diary under very few protections. Or rather, he had it in the same study I looked through those months ago. Most likely with some sort of charm that only Malfoys could see it. Either he didn’t expect my mother to go into his study, or he didn’t expect that the charm would take into account that her marital status meant that she would be able to see everything too. Either way, she was able to see the diary when she was there looking for him.”

“Does she know what it is?” she asked him, as she examined the diary, trying to ensure its authenticity. But there was nothing masking the dark magic that radiated off of it.

“No,” he shook his head, “She had no idea what it was. Simply that it was in Lucius’ possession and the magic it contained was evil. She didn’t want it in the house and was hoping I could pass it on to Grandfather so that he could contain it. It was easier to meet me than him, as it would draw far less questions.”

“We just got handed a horcrux,” she said, still in disbelief. The diary had been one of the hardest to track, given they knew the likely location, and yet had no way of being able to find it. The Christmas Ball had been one of the few occasions they had been in the Malfoy Manor, and honestly they weren’t sure they’d have another chance to go back, shy of visiting for tea.

“We did,” he breathed, “This means that there is only one left that we are missing.”

“The locket,” Hermione confirmed, “But since we know Regulus will not be the one who dies this time, we have no idea if or when it will be placed. Harry showed me his memory of the place, and I’d rather not go there until we are certain that it has been placed. Other than the Ring, it might be one of the most dangerous horcruxes to obtain.”

“We have the Cup, the Ring, the Diadem, and now the Diary. We just need the locket then we’ve obtained them all,” he said, a small smile filling his face for the first time during that conversation.

“We just need to destroy them all before Voldemort realizes that we have them, and then we can end this war,” Hermione nodded, excitement flowing through her.

Arcturus looked coolly at the summons that Dumbledore had given him and Fleamont, curious what it was that he hoped to achieve with such a thing. Whatever it was, would be yet another attempt at the old coot trying to control the narrative still, as he remained convinced that his side and the Order were the only way that they truly could defeat Voldemort in the end.

His way or the high way; the motto that Dumbledore had taken to governing his life with. If they disagreed with him, then that made them in the wrong, regardless of what the topic was. Because he was Albus Bloody Dumbledore and he could never be wrong.

“We might as well get this over with,” Fleamont said with a sigh, as he fiddled with the summons in his own hand. “Neither of us particularly want to be there, but at least if we go now, then we can see what it is that he has to say and get it over with.”

“Your optimism continues to astound me,” Arcturus said, giving his brother-in-law a wry smile.

Fleamont gestured to the floo and Arcturus sighed once more as he stepped into it and threw down some powder, as he apparated onto the Hogwarts premise.

“Arcturus,” Dumbledore greeted, “Fleamont. I’m glad the two of you could take time out of your busy schedules to come visit me.”

“You said you had important matters to discuss,” Fleamont said pointedly, as Dumbledore gestured for the two of them to sit down opposite to his desk. “So what was it that was so imperative that you wished to talk about?”

“The Order of the Phoenix,” Dumbledore said, and Arcturus nearly let out a groan of annoyance. Would the old goat never let the matter drop?

“What about the Order?” Fleamont said, with more politeness than Arcturus could bother pretending to hide behind.

“We have made many strong recruits in recent years,” Dumbledore said, with the ‘since you rejected my offer’ remaining unsaid. “Alastor Moody, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Fabian and Gideon Prewett, and so on. We have many members who are bringing in valuable information each day about Voldemort and his movements and have been working tirelessly to thwart him and his efforts.”

“That is good for you,” Arcturus said, keeping the bite out of his tone. “We all have been working in different ways to try and bring down Voldemort.”

“And yet we should be working together,” Dumbledore said, a knowing smile filling his face. “We are spending too much time working against each other, fighting over small details when we both know that there is a greater enemy out there. We should be fighting by each other’s side, not tearing each other apart.”

“We are fighting against a common enemy,” Fleamont nodded, “However our approaches to do so are very different. You see, you are convinced that all Dark magic is evil, which is not the case. One’s magic does not make them solely good or evil. It is what one chooses to do with it. That is basic knowledge to all witches and wizards, and if it is something you are unfamiliar with, then perhaps you need to attend some of the lectures taught to your students.”

Dumbledore’s smile dropped and Arcturus felt a twinge of satisfaction flow through him.

“Don’t you see what this meeting is really about, Fleamont?” Arcturus drawled as a smirk filled his face. “It isn’t that he wants to work with us on any particular matter or the other. No, it is what he wishes to do with the knowledge we have and aren’t sharing with him.”

“Of course,” Fleamont nodded sympathetically. “I understand now. You wish to possess Hermione’s notes on the future, so you can have the details of what will happen. I can see why you would think that involves working together, when we both know all it would entail is us giving you information and you expecting us to fight by your side. And yet, you would not provide us anything useful either. Because anything you know, you can be rest assured that we already know it. Which is something you are counting on, isn’t it?”

“You are being selfish in keeping the journal,” Dumbledore hissed, “How many hundreds of lives are at stake because you think yourself more capable than I? Because you have a vendetta against the light side and against my own persons? You cannot keep such information to yourself when there are so many lives at stake.”

“Fine,” Fleamont said with a shrug, and Arcturus nearly laughed, “We will provide you with information pertaining to any and all attacks that are happening that we are in knowledge of. We will let you know of anything that is important, just as we are also keeping the Aurors in the loop for anything they need to know. And you can use that information to do what you will. However, beyond that, we will not share any information, such as our plans and the plans of Hermione or Draco as you could endanger them. That will have to be enough for you at this time, as we cannot afford to give you anything beyond that.”

Dumbledore nodded stiffly, looking less than pleased at what he was being offered, but was well aware that it was more than enough given the nature of his demands that they needed to be working to save others.

“Fine,” Dumbledore said, “I expect all relevant information. I do not understand why you chose to fight me because of some grudge you hold against me for actions I have not committed in this life time. But I shall accept your decision none the less.”

“We hold our grudge,” Arcturus sighed, “Because we know that you would always make the same choices in any lifetime, as you are convinced that you are the sole person who knows best for any situation. And we cannot hand you that sort of power, knowing what it will mean for our families and for the future of the wizarding world. Because Voldmort might have led to its destruction, but you certainly did not help it.”

It was obvious to anyone who saw either of them that both Remus Lupin and Sirius Black were miserable out of their minds. And while Draco did not know the full story of what had happened between the two boys, he knew enough of what had happened to get the gist of it.

Remus had gotten insecure over their future together because of his limitations and had felt that it would only hold Sirius back if they stayed together, so had set him free in the form of dumping him so that Sirius wouldn’t be forced to live a life with him.

And while James had tried for months to get either of them to stay in the same room aside for classes or sleeping, nothing had worked. Sirius had chased after Remus for days after, begging him to talk, saying that they could overcome their differences and move forward together despite it. That it didn’t matter to him. But Remus had barely let him get out a full sentence each time, before fleeing out of the room.

It was breaking Sirius’ heart, and Draco felt his heart go out to his cousin, knowing what it had felt like when Hermione had too tried to push him away because of the fact that she was thinking of the future. Of course, those were too very different situations, with Hermione not having wanted to have gotten into a relationship with him until she realized that she couldn’t lose him, just as he knew he couldn’t lose her.

Remus, on the other hand, had panicked on account of him being a werewolf, knowing fully well the struggles it would cause them in the long run, feeling as if he was truly hold Sirius back.

It was how he found his cousin, sitting on the grounds with the cool April air swirling around them.

“Are you just going to hide away then for the next two months until you graduate and can leave this all behind?” he asked Sirius as he sat beside him on the grass.

“How did you know where I was?” Sirius asked him, raising a brow at his younger cousin.

“Marauder’s Map,” Draco said with a shrug. “James told me where I could find you.”

“Smart,” Sirius let out a breath, “But you always were the smartest in our family.”

He smiled at his cousin, “Doesn’t change the fact that I had you to look up to, growing up.”

Sirius gave him a soft smile, “I was hardly the greatest role model, Draco.”

“You showed me the true meaning of family. You showed me that our parents don’t always know what’s best for us, and it’s okay that we don’t agree with them. It means standing up for what we believe in and fighting for ourselves and what we know to be right,” Draco said, giving him a pointed look. “You showed me what it means to have an older brother who would do anything to protect you. And while I have my share of sisters, you always cared about me as a brother, despite us not being so.”

“You’re family,” Sirius told him, “I’d do anything to protect you and Regulus, and I’d fight for you no matter what the circumstances.”

“And yet you’ve given up fighting for yourself,” Draco told him, as he looked at his cousin strongly. “You, who fought for your freedom and the right to be the kind of person you want to be. You who allowed yourself to be sorted into a house that represented who you are, and left home for those same beliefs. You, who fought your entire life, are giving up now, with the slightest bit of battle thrown your way.”

“I have no idea what you’re saying,” Sirius said, avoiding looking at him.

“You know exactly what I’m saying, Sirius,” Draco said, giving him a look, “You’ve stopped fighting for Remus, and you need to pull yourself together and stop wallowing around hoping it will change anything.”

“He doesn’t want me,” Sirius sighed, “He told me that he doesn’t want me. I can’t make someone love me, Draco. I couldn’t make my mother love me, or half our family who are convinced that I am going to ruin our family when I take over. What makes you think that I can make Remus love me again.”

“He never stopped loving you,” Draco told him softly, “You can’t make anyone be with you. But Remus loves you, and always will love you. He’ll come around and he’ll realize that he was wrong to think that you are better off without him in your life. Yes, your life will be more complicated, but when hasn’t your life been complicated? This is just another thing you have to fight for, but another thing worth fighting for. You love him, and I know that the two of you can get past this. The two of you are good together.”

“How can you be so certain?” Sirius asked him desperately, “How can you be so certain that the two of us can move past this when he can’t even be in the same room as me?”

“He can’t be in the same room as you because he’s terrified of losing you and knows that he’d crumble and come back to you and is trying to keep himself away. But he’ll realize that it’s only hurting the both of you even more to stay away. I’m sure because I know the both of you. I’ve grown up around the two of you and seen you fall in love with each other. You’ll work through this as you’ve worked through everything else. You just need to give it some time.”

Sirius sighed, “Well, if he doesn’t want me, then I suppose I’ll need to learn to live with that. But I won’t push him into anything that makes him uncomfortable. If he loves me too and wants to be with me, then he’ll come back to me. And I intend to let him know that I still care. But I won’t push him.”

“Good,” Draco gave him a smile, “Now let’s go back inside. It’s still cold and I know you haven’t finished packing for the Easter holidays.”

Sirius gave him a sheepish look and he knew he was right. He helped his cousin up and the two of them headed back towards the castle, feeling optimistic.

“Are you sure?” Hermione asked her softly once more as Lily took a deep breath, trying to calm her anxiety over what was to happen. “It isn’t something you need to do, not now if you are unready, and not ever if you don’t want to. They’ll come for you, the moment you do, it no longer will remain a secret. It will become public record and they’ll know.”

“I’m sure,” Lily gave her friend a gentle look. “It is my family magic and I’ve thought about it a lot over the years. It terrified me at first, finding out what family I belonged to and what it would mean. But a lot of the history had gotten twisted over the years. And even if I am related to that megalomaniac, it doesn’t mean that there is anything wrong with me. I want to show the world that the Slytherin family is capable of good. Otherwise our house, both at Hogwarts and by blood will continue to be dragged through the mud. How can I ask others to treat Slytherins decently if I won’t even claim my own house?”

Hermione gave her a proud look and Lily felt a calmness go through her.

“Besides, we don’t know if magic will even accept me,” Lily breathed, “There is a chance it will reject me too, just as it rejected him. But if magic deems me as worthy then I will gladly accept it and what it means for my family.”

“You’d make a wonderful Lady Slytherin,” Euphemia told her softly, “We would be proud to serve in your ritual to be a part of this experience.”

“Thank you,” Lily said giving the Potters a smile. She couldn’t ask her own parents to stand with her, as they didn’t have magic, but they had supported her decision to do so, even if they didn’t know the full implications of what it would mean. She had also asked Severus to stand with her, the boy she had grown up with, her brother in all but in blood. And the Potters had become a second family to her, James who was the love of her life, Hermione who was like a younger sister to her, and Euphemia and Fleamont who had been there for her throughout her life at Hogwarts.

“Are you ready?” James asked her, as they took their places around her. He held her hand softly, and she smiled at her boyfriend.

“Yes,” she told him, and he pressed his lips to her temple. He moved back to join his parents and Severus in forming a circle around her.

“Non nobis domine adsistit,” she heard Hermione begin to chant, as the others began to chant with her to show their support.

“O domine Slytherin in magica, ut liceat mihi, domine facti sunt domui tuae,” she chanted, asking magic to accept her. She closed her eyes and began to chant once more, reciting the incantation over and over.

She felt a swirl of energy overtake her, and she opened her eyes gingerly to see a snake in front of her, but it was not the snake that caught her attention, but the tall older man standing beside it.

“Miss Evans,” the older man had stated, looking down at her. Hermione had shared her own experiences of having seen Godric Gryffindor, but even without that, she would have known the man in front of her.

“Lord Slytherin,” she said, bowing her head gently. “I pledge my claim as I ask you to consider me to become the Lady of your house.”

“You are not the first to do so,” he said, raising his brow at her, “I have turned down many before you. What makes you think that I would accept you when I rejected their own claims.”

“Because I do not wish to make the world pure by ridding it of dirty magic,” she said softy, “Your legacy was not your hatred of muggles and muggleborns. It was your desire to share your knowledge and keep the world safe from outside threats. In your day, that was muggles. In my day, it is the ignorance that magic must remain pure by preventing it from being mixed with impure blood. I wish to finish what you started. I wish to share knowledge with the world. I wish to save the world from what will come if we continue down this path. Magic will become corrupted and it will break. I wish to show the world that we can overcome our differences; that we don’t need to hurt innocents and kill those who oppose them simply because we all think we know what is best. I do not presume to believe that I am worthy of your line. But I wish to show the world that your legacy has been misremembered by history. And with or without the ladyship I will continue to do so.”

He offered her a gentle smile, “Well said. You are the first in many years to remember that I simply wished to teach. That I left because I thought we were risking too much. I didn’t want the world to lose any more children as I had lost my own. I was wrong to turn away muggleborns, and I know that now. You are the first to remember my legacy as such. And the world needs someone like you, now more than ever, to advocate for it. And with the young Lady Gryffindor by your side, I have no doubt the two of you will accomplish much, just as Godric and I once did. I give you my blessing, Lily Evans, to become the Lady of my house.”

She felt happiness flow through her as she saw magic in its rawest form circle around her. Pure gold strands of magic flowed through her, and she felt her magic grow stronger, more in tune with herself as she took it all in.

And when it faded, she saw James looked stunned at the action.

“Bloody hell,” he simply said, looking both proud and astounded at the same time.

Bloody Hell indeed, because she was now Lady Slytherin.

Chapter Text

Bellatrix felt fear fill her as she received the news she had been dreading. The Slytherin line had been claimed, and it was not by her Dark Lord, but by some common mudblood girl.

And now it was up to her to deliver the news to her Lord.

She stood outside his study, shivering slightly. For he was powerful, and she had seen what had happened to those who had failed.

“Bellatrix,” her Lord said as she entered his study. There was no way he didn’t already know. But it had been her task to find out the information, and she had failed, and now it was on her to tell him the news.

“My Lord, the Slytherin line has been claimed. There is a new Lady for the house. Lily Evans, a mudblood Gryffindor student at Hogwarts. She has claimed the title and magic has accepted her,” Bellatrix said looking down, as she was unable to meet his disappointed gaze.

“I am aware, Bellatrix,” he said in a cool, emotionless voice. “Did you think that magic did not alert me the minute that the line had been claimed? I felt it through my very soul. My magic shifted inside of me, and I knew the minute that mudblood claimed my family’s line as her own.”

“I’m sorry,” she pleaded, “I should have been able to have stopped her. “I should have found out who she was before she was even able to claim the line as her own and stopped her from claiming it. I failed you, My Lord, and I will gladly accept whatever punishment you have for me.”

“Good,” he said, looking down at her, “Because you will indeed be punished for this, Bellatrix. I do not take kindly to those who fail me. Especially those who I trusted with tasks that were of upmost importance. I trusted you, and you let me down. And now there is a new Lady Slytherin, one who challenges my claim and has the right to take away my place in the family if it were something she desired. A child can destroy the legacy I have been working so long to cultivate all because you failed to bring me the name of who she was until it was far too late.”

She quivered slightly but did not say a thing as she knew that her lord was still displeased and had much to say on the matter.

“Even if I were to challenge her claim to the title it would not make a difference. The magic of Salazar Slytherin himself accepted her as worthy for our house. Even if I were to kill her, I could not claim the line. He disapproved of the direction I wished to take his legacy. I could not claim his magic even if I wanted to, but now, with the title in her hands, she has the power to take away all that I have worked for, simply because of her own naïve ideals.”

“I’m sorry, My Lord,” Bellatrix said, feeling the regret hit her as she looked at him and met his eyes for the first time, “I failed you, and as such I deserve to be punished as you see fit. I should have been able to have stopped this, I should have killed the mudblood before she even had a chance to think about claiming your magic.”

“You did,” her lord acknowledged, “And for that you must be punished. Crucio.”

She felt the pain fill her body as she felt to the ground. She felt his raw power in the curse, the way he meant to punish her for her shortcomings. She felt his anger, his rage, and his unhappiness, all in his one spell, as he punished her for failing, for not having achieved the task he had presented to her.”

“Still, it might not have been an entire disaster,” her lord mused slightly, “Now that we are aware of who she is, we could try and convince her to stand by our side. It would give us yet another powerful witch in our midst and with her magic, we would be able to achieve many of our tasks. If she sides with us, and is of use to us, then she is a controlled threat. It is far better to keep her closer to us than have her fight on the other side of this war.”

“You would let her live after she disobeyed you?” Bellatrix asked in disbelief, “She should have thrown herself at your feet the moment she realized she was a part of your line. She should have stood by your side and backed your claim to the house and fought by your side. She challenged you and went behind your back to claim the title that you coveted. She must be punished!”

“And she will be,” Lord Voldemort told Bellatrix patiently, “But perhaps she can be of use of us still. She may have a point in allowing mudbloods to claim their heritage. It provides the world with far more powerful witches and wizards. And if we accept them and their heritage, it allows their power to stand on our side. More so, as Dumbledore has yet to see the boons of claiming one’s family magic, it would give us a significant advantage over him and his ill-mannered troops who follow him without as much as a question as to what they are doing.”

“Would you like for me to seek her out, My Lord?” Bellatrix asked, eager for another chance to prove to him that she would not constantly fail him, and that she could still be of use to him.

“Let her finish the school year,” he commanded her, “She’s nearly done with her education anyways. And afterwards, we shall approach her with the proposition. If she is as wise as the rumours claim her to be, then she will make the right decision. And if not, she will pay the ultimate price for her choice to disobey us.”

Albus Dumbledore was fuming as he read the reports that his spy had given him. The Slytherin Line had been claimed by someone whom he had never expected it to be claimed by. It had been claimed by one of the smartest students at his school; it had been claimed by his Head Girl at his school, by Lily Evans.

His Head Girl, a model Gryffindor student had somehow managed to be related to Slytherin, a house which he still was not entirely sure was capable of any good, pure intentions. How could he be when so many of them had turned out to be working against him, had turned out to have nefarious intentions.

And now a student, one whom he personally had picked because he believed she would be capable of leading the school with compassion and care as she kept the students in line and enforced the rules. At no point in time had he suspected that anything could be amiss. At that point in time had he thought that she could be capable of anything less than good intentions.

Yet somehow, she had hidden it from him. A student, a muggleborn student, who had only ever had good things said about her, was related to Salazar Slytherin. And more so, she was now the Lady of the House, meaning she had his full magic and powers, as well as his wealth behind her. And he had absolutely no idea what to do with this information. Because really, what could he do or say? He couldn’t stop it; Magic itself had accepted her. Maybe if he had any indication of it sooner then he could have stopped it or deterred her from claiming the cursed house. But now it was far too late.

He knew others had tried preaching to him on how the house wasn’t evil, not really. And they blamed him for the way the house had turned out, as if it were some sort of self-fulfilling prophecy that the students in that house all turned out evil. As if he was the true villain responsible for their actions.

But how could he be to blame when he had seen student after student go into that house and turn out wrong? How could he be to blame when he knew what it would mean for them to be in that house? How was he the one who was wrong?

And yet, he had missed the signs in front of him. He had missed Lily Evans stand up for muggleborns and half-bloods alike and demand they claim their magic, so they can have an equal standing in their world, as if it mattered. How could he have missed it when Tom Riddle himself had tried to hide behind his family name, his Slytherin descendance the same way she had? The way they both tried to rid themselves of their muggle heritage? The way Severus Snape had shed the muggle name of his father, refusing to be called by his muggle surname?

Was it any wonder that the two were related? She had acted so much like Tom Riddle, and he had missed it before it was too late. And now, a girl who was from his own house, a student who was a Gryffindor, meaning she held the same values as himself, had turned out to be a descendant of Slytherin.

She, who he had thought could be a good influence on her friends. A muggleborn student who defied the odds and constantly stood on the top of her class without family magic to aid her. A student who proved blood purity was irrelevant, and it was one’s true nature that gave them true power. And she had thrown it all in his face, claiming her family magic so that her magic would be more powerful, and claimed her line so she no longer had no name to rely on. She now was one of the most powerful, politically and magically, students in his school.

And on top of that, she had the Lady Gryffindor as her own personal ally.

He had so many questions that filled his head, haunting his dreams, wanting to know what it would mean for them all. Would she continue to be a shining light for the Light side? Or would she go grey like her boyfriend’s family? Or even worse, would she turn Dark? Would she side with Voldemort now that she could claim his line as family? Would she begin recruitment for the Dark side and begin to take away bright students and minds that could have stood by him, and instead cause the corruption of young minds?

Lily Evans had always been brilliant, with or without her family magic and line behind her. But now she had full access to everything it provided her. And as such it was something which could become detrimental to their very world as it stood. She could be a great ally and help him bring down Voldemort once and for all. Or she could become their greatest destruction, and forever destroy the world as it stood.

And he feared all too greatly, that it would be the latter.

Peter Pettigrew was bitter out of his mind,

He knew something was wrong, knew something wasn’t right, that something was missing, but he had no idea what it was or what was wrong with him. All he knew was that something was very wrong, and he had no idea what to do about it.

He had begun to suspect something was off with him several months ago. It felt like memories were missing, but he couldn’t quite place it. It was like something had once been there, and now was replaced with nothingness. He could see it every time his roommates looked at him, a mixture of sadness and pity on their faces. As if they knew something he didn’t.

And the worst part was, some of the memories remained.

He knew that he had once been friends with Potter, Black, and Lupin. Known that they had once been more than just roommates. And he remembered the incident which had set him off, where he had denounced their friendship. But even with that memory, bits and pieces were missing. As if someone had left just enough that he wasn’t left with gaps tearing apart his mind, but like all the important parts were missing. Like someone had taken a book and left the concepts of the subject but torn out the pages that went into depth so you could truly understand the subject.

He was missing memories, and he couldn’t explain it.

He thought he had been losing his mind. That it was all just some figment of his imagination and that it wasn’t even real. But then he had gone on that mission for the Dark Lord.

He still shivered as he thought about the things that he had to endure to prove his worth; the potion burned in the back of his throat as a reminder, and he had nightmares for days after about what had happened that day and the horrors he had seen.

And yet he would do it again, if it meant that a man of great power would have use for him. If a man of that much power would give him the opportunities that would not be awarded to him otherwise. Because he gave him the power to stand up for what he believed in, and the power to change the world until it was one that he could thrive in. And he never would regret his decision to stand by Lord Voldemort, even if it cost him the memories he must once have cherished.

But it did raise a greater question. Clearly something important had been in those memories or it would not have so callously have been erased from his mind. He must have known something, have seen something, of great value to cause it to have been erased from his head. And yet traces of it still lingered.

For one, he was an Animagus. And it wasn’t that he didn’t think of himself as all that clever. But at the same time, he could not deny his true potential. He was not capable of such a feat by himself, nor would he have attempted such a feat without some greater reasoning. So it stood to reason that if he had become and Animagus then it had been for a reason. That he had done so at the bequest of someone else, that he had help in doing so. That there was a much larger secret involved than him simply being an Animagus.

And yet, he had no idea what the secret was, only knowing that no matter how hard he tried, he didn’t have access to it. Like it was simply out of reach, and no matter how much he reached for it, there was no grabbing it.

It was simply gone forever.

But one thing was for certain. He knew that whatever it was, Hermione Potter was most likely responsible for such a thing. No matter what memories she erased from his mind, nothing would be able to erase the distaste he had for her. When he thought of her, he was filled with so much anger and hatred; so much so that the only logical conclusion that he could reach was that she must somehow be responsible, and that there was no other logical explanation of what could have happened. She had somehow taken away his memories, and he hated her all the more for it.

She had been a pain in his arse from the moment that James Potter had first mentioned her, the way his eyes lit up was sickening, as if she was some sort of great enigma, when she was truly just a child. She was nothing special, but he had spoken of her like she was a magical being. And that had been his first sign that she would continue to serve as a source of pain in his life.

She had always tried to prove that she was greater than she was, that his roommates were somehow her own source of amusement. And Potter had allowed her to do so. Hell, so had Black and Lupin.

She had ruined his life the moment she first sat in their compartment all those years ago, and he had no doubt that she had continued to ruin his life in the years to follow. Most recently she must have ruined his life by wiping his memories and taking away the secrets that they had contained. And she had continued from that moment to ruin his life. He could see the glances she spared his direction, as if they were filled with pity.

She had ruined his life, and he knew that she had been responsible for everything that had gone wrong in it.

So he would return the favour. He would make sure she paid for everything that she had done to him, and he would make sure she regretted ever choosing to cross him.

James Potter was absolutely done with his best friends.

It had been months since Remus and Sirius had chosen to break up, or rather Remus had broken up with Sirius without allowing him to get a word in otherwise.

And in that time, both the boys had driven him crazy. Sirius, who had tried time and time again to talk to Remus, only to be met by Remus promptly fleeing the room, had taken to complaining about it on hours on end to James, without listening to his advice to give the other space while Remus tried to come to terms with what their break up would mean to him.

And Remus had been no better, refusing to stay in the same room as either of them, convinced that James would talk him out of his stupid actions, which to be fair, he would have done, and also unable to bear the sight of Sirius.

On top of that, it had made full moons rather difficult, as Sirius refused to abandon Remus during the night of the transformation, but would flee as soon as it was done, unable to look at Remus while he was injured, knowing fully well that the other boy wouldn’t allow him to tend to him.

It was driving him mad, knowing that both of them were equally as stubborn, and rather unfortunately for him, it meant he was caught in the middle of the entire scheme without a way of being able to express just how displeased he had been with the entire turn of the events, as he felt caught in the middle of his two brothers, without a chance to do a thing to make it right.

Hermione had tried to convince him to leave it. That it was something that the two would need to work out in their own time. But he couldn’t take it any longer. He couldn’t take knowing that his two friends were fighting all because of Remus’ misguided notions that he wasn’t good enough.

And with the school year set to end soon, he couldn’t stand the fact that it would mean there was a decent chance he would never get the two to reconcile if he couldn’t manage it soon. Because the moment both boys had graduated, they were under no obligation to see each other ever again.

At the very least, he wanted them to at least be friends, and not throw away their years of friendship.

Sirius had been in detention, so James knew that then was as good of a time as any to talk to his friend about everything that had been happening of late.

“Remus,” James said, as he entered their dorm room to see Remus folding up his clothes and putting it away, “We need to talk. All of this has been going on for far too long and it is time that we discuss what has been happening and what it means.”

“And if I don’t want to discuss it?” Remus asked calmly as he folded a set of socks and placed it into his trunk.

“I think you have been avoiding this for months,” James told him, “And that if you truly don’t love Sirius any more then it is fine. But if you do, then I want to talk to you. I’m not going to force you to do anything, but you still are my friend and I want to talk to you about everything that has been happening.”

Remus sighed at that, as he sat down on his bed, and James sat down beside him.

“Do you still love Sirius?” James asked him softly.

“It doesn’t matter if I do,” Remus sighed, “It’s not as simple as if I love him or not. It’s not that easy. It’s not enough for me to love him, not when there is so much more at stake.”

“Such as?” James questioned him, wanting to know truly what his friend had been worried about.

“It would ruin his future,” Remus said, looking down, “For him to be with a werewolf, it would change his entire life. I am forced to disclose my infliction to any employers, which would give them ample reason to not hire me. He would be judged constantly for being with me. It’s grounds for his family to challenge Sirius over the Headship if they wished to do so. Our children would grow up knowing prejudice and hatred, and no one deserves that.”

“If you think for a moment that any one of us would let you be unemployed then you are mad,” James told him. “Hermione already has half a dozen reforms to the Ministry she plans on making; she’s had them since she was ten. And if anyone is determined enough to change the way the world works, and could succeed, it would be her. Sirius and I would stand by you for whatever career you wanted and vouch for you, as would the rest of our friends. And no one in Sirius’ family would dream of challenging him for the Headship who could actually do anything about it. Sure, his parents might not be pleased, but Regulus and Draco would always be behind Sirius. And Andromeda and Narcissa do not want the title either. Bellatrix is the only one who would be displeased but Arcturus had long since removed her from the family. Additionally, Arcturus has known about your condition for quite some time and has never made any move to block your relationship, because he knows that you are good enough for his grandson.”

Remus jerked in shock at that, and James felt his heart break for his friend. He could see tears slip down Remus’ face and James pulled him in for a tight hug.

“You are the purest person I know,” James told him softly, “You have a kind heart and soul, and you are good enough, for Sirius, for me, for everyone. You are more than worthy of being with Sirius. And so what if there are bumps in your journey? No one ever had it easy when it came to true love. And we will be by your side, regardless of what you chose to do.”

“I love him,” Remus said, a sob escaping his chest, “I love him so much that it hurts. It’s been so hard for me, trying to do what was right for him. But I made a mess of it all, didn’t I?”

“It isn’t too late,” James told him softly, “Go to him now and woo him back. I promise you, you won’t have to try very hard. He is just as mad about you as you are about him.”

Remus stood then, looking determined, as he ran out of the room and towards the transfiguration classroom where the detention that Sirius was serving was.

Chapter Text

Sirius sat on the grounds of Hogwarts as he stared out at the Great Lake in front of him. He had been at this school for seven years, and in a few short weeks he’d be leaving it all behind.

Perhaps it had been why McGonagall had let him out slightly early, having realized that the boy would be leaving the school shortly. Despite her uptight demeanour, she always had a soft spot for the boys, and he knew that while she never would admit it, she cared greatly for them. And that she didn’t actually hate all of their pranks despite the fact that they had found themselves in detention more often than not for them.

He let out a sigh. The future was daunting, despite the fact that he had more of a plan than he ever imagined he could have had when he first was sorted. His family, one whom he had been certain he would have to say goodbye to, stood behind him. His grandfather supported him, despite the fact that Sirius did not believe in the purity of blood values that his mother had tried to instill in him. His cousin had married a muggleborn, albeit with a few stipulations. His brother and cousin had forced him to acknowledge that they could still be a family despite being in different houses, and that perhaps they were not all that different at all.

He would be Lord Black one day, and while that terrified him, it no longer felt like a formidable task that his mother held over him, one that he’d never be good enough for. And he’d have the support of his family while doing so.

He would join Auror training with his best friend, something which he felt passionate about. Something which he truly felt like he could make a difference doing. Something he believed he could enjoy doing, until such a time where he stepped down to make time for his Head of House duties.

His life was coming together, and yet he still felt so alone.

He missed Remus, more than anything; missed the way the boy made his heart skip a beat as he kissed his forehead comfortingly. He missed the way Remus would chaist him to follow the rules or the way his head fit so perfectly in Sirius’ lap. He missed the way the boy always seemed to know how he was feeling, and always seemed to know the right thing to say.

Except when he was saying that he wanted to break up.

He hated it; hated the way they didn’t talk anymore; how they barely seemed to be friends any more. How it felt like there was a giant hold in his heart, left there by the loss of Remus in his life. And he hated that he didn’t think he could ever move on from it.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he heard a soft voice call out from behind him, and Sirius didn’t even need to turn around to know who was there. “You were supposed to be in detention.”

“McGonagall let me out early,” Sirius shrugged, standing to face Remus. “I thought you weren’t talking to me.”

Remus looked pained at that, “You must know why I did what I did, Sirius. You deserve so much better than me. Someone less marred, someone who won’t hold you back and let you live the life you deserve. Someone worthy of being with you. I’m damaged.”

“So I don’t even get a choice?” Sirius retorted, “It’s never mattered to me before, Remus. Why do you think it would matter to me now? Nothing has changed in what I think of you. You were my friend. I respect you, despite the unfortunate accident that has left the world telling you that you are ‘damaged’. But I have never once thought any less of you because of it. James has never once thought any less of you because of it. Why would it suddenly matter to me now?”

“Because it affects your entire family!” Remus said unhappily, “You won’t ever get to live a normal life with me, and I love you too much to put you through the pain of having to watch my life fall apart. Because it will, the moment I leave this school. Job after job will turn me down. And if the world finds out a family such as yours has a werewolf that married into it, they’ll call for my head. They’ll say horrible things about you and try and oust you as the Lord Black. If we have children, the stigma will follow them as they hear horrible things said about me and people like me. Our life won’t be easy, Sirius, and I wanted to spare you that.”

“I’ve never cared what anyone thought about me so far, why would I start now?” Sirius countered. “Families like the Malfoys and Lestranges have already made it clear that they do not think I am worthy of the Black Line. Being with you would hardly the worst thing they have to say about me. I love you, and I always have loved you. I always will love you. And I don’t care what others think about me for it. I will not let your life fall apart. I’ll go against the entire world and change what they think if it meant you would be happy. I’d tear down every law and person who stood in the way of you living the life you deserved. And I would do so with a smile, if it made you happy.”

Remus swallowed before he stepped forward, wrapping an arm around his waist and cupping his face lightly as he pulled Sirius into a kiss before he could react.

“I love you too,” Remus murmured softly, “I won’t apologise for trying to keep you safe, but I’m sorry I hurt you while trying to do so.  I won’t push you away anymore. If you want to fight the world for us, then I will stand by your side and fight them with you.”

“Good,” Sirius said softly, as he tugged Remus closer, “Just so you know, you better be certain, because I won’t be able to let you go if you say you’re sure. You’ll be mine.”

“I’m certain,” Remus said against his lips, “I’m all yours.”

James Potter was wary of the fact that he had received a note that the Headmaster had sent, requesting he meet with him.

It wasn’t that he had never had a meeting with Dumbledore before. In his seven years of schooling he had met with the Headmaster more than any other of the students in this school. It came with the territory of pulling off great pranks, and the Marauders all knew when they pulled off each one that there was a decent chance that they would end up in detention afterwards.

And since he had been made Head Boy, he and his girlfriend had met with Dumbledore more and more to discuss the state of the school and the students, as well as to be able to suggest any changes they thought could be beneficial.

But something was different about this invitation. Dumbledore had been vague in the wording and hadn’t said what exactly the meeting was about. And with the term finishing the next day, bringing their time at the school to a close, he couldn’t imagine there was very much that Dumbledore could want to discuss with them.

As the meal finished, Lily nodded at him and two of them, as well as Remus, and Sirius, stood to make their way towards the Headmaster’s office.

“Acid Pops,” James said, and Lily raised an eyebrow at him. He simply shrugged at the password choice, as the Gargoyle guarding the office leap aside, and the wall behind it split into two. Gingerly, they moved up the stairs, and towards the Professor’s office.

Lily carefully knocked on the Griffin knocker embedded on the large oak doors as they immediately swung open and revealed the office behind them.

“I’m glad you all could make it here today,” Dumbledore said, as he gestured for them to sit at his desk. “I have some important matters to discuss with you.”

“Of course, Headmaster,” Lily said, as she looked at him tentatively, “May I ask what this is about?”

“As you know, a war has been brewing outside the walls of our school for the last few years,” Dumbledore said, and James immediately stiffened, having a decent idea where Dumbledore had decided to go with this meeting. “As the Headmaster of this school, I have done my best to shelter you all from it, though I admit I was not always able to. But despite that I tried my best to ensure that you were all able to succeed and thrive even with the limitations it would have posed on you.”

“And we are grateful for that,” Remus said, perhaps the most grateful of them all due to Dumbledore allowing him into the school in the first place.

And for all his faults, James had to admit that the small act of kindness he had granted Remus had been life changing in that aspect. It had meant Remus had a chance at a normal life. A chance to get an education, have friends, and fall in love.

And even though neither boy had outright said it, Sirius and Remus had done little to hide the fact that they had reconciled, most likely after the talk James and Remus had a few weeks days ago.

“I wish to discuss your futures with you,” Dumbledore said, leaning forward slightly, “As you are aware, when you graduate from this school, you will no longer have the safety of these walls to protect you in the outside world, as many do not. You will see the war first hand, you will see the impact it has on our society and the way it is causing damage to it, day after day. And you will be forced to face the horrible realities of it.”

“I cannot imagine it would be pleasant,” Sirius said, in a level tone, “To bear witness to the war, day after day.”

“Indeed,” Dumbledore nodded, “Which is why I wish to discuss an initiative with you today. I wish to discuss a group I have been organizing and leading. The Order of the Phoenix. In which we combat this war and fight against Voldemort and his forces. I wish for you to join, as I think you would all be valuable members, and could each bring something important to the group.”

“Have you discussed this initiative with other students?” Lily asked, as she took what he said in. “I can imagine there are plenty of students who could be valuable to such a cause. Severus himself would be an amazing addition, given his natural instincts with potions.”

“I have not yet at this time,” Dumbledore shook his head, “This group is not meant to be one that the public is aware of, and the group must remain secret. It is why I am only letting in a few trusted members.”

“I see,” Lily said, and despite the coolness of her tone, James knew she most certainly was not impressed with the implication that her childhood friend was not trustworthy.

And if anyone had asked James Potter seven years ago if he though Severus was a trustworthy ally, he would have scoffed at him. Slytherins couldn’t be trusted. But then he had gone and seen just how similar the two houses were. That a Slytherin could be his friend and a Gryffindor could betray him. Hell, his girlfriend was the Lady of the house. It had become abundantly clear to him that perhaps his initial thoughts were misguided.

However, it seemed as if Dumbledore was still struggling to come to terms with that.

 “I cannot accept your invitation at this time,” James said, firmly, “As this is a matter that would impact the House of Potter, it is something my family and I would have to discuss in depth to see if it is an endeavour we wish to take.”

“I feel the same way,” Sirius said, standing, “Lord Black must be informed before any decisions of sort are made. And as Remus is under the protection of the House of Black, he falls under these restrictions.”

Remus gave Sirius a surprised look but did not question him, and James nearly laughed. Sirius would wait to announce such a thing until he could get a dramatic response.

“I must decline as well,” Lily said standing, “Since the House of Slytherin is once again coming out into the light, we must be cautious how we proceed. I would hate for anyone to label my house based on their own biases and without the truth.”

“I see,” Dumbledore said, and despite the level tone in his voice, James knew he most certainly was not pleased. Yet James Potter could not bring himself to care.

Lily sighed to herself as she unpacked her trunk in her parents’ home. She still had a month before her Healer Apprenticeship was due to start, so she had decided to stay with her parents for a bit while she worked on getting herself set up, post school.

There was so much to do, between finding a flat close to St. Mungo’s, getting settled in, and prepared to start the next stage of her life.

She felt so grateful at times like this that she had James and Severus to help her navigate the Wizarding World. There was so much that still confused her, so much that left her unsure of what to do and how to proceed in certain situations. But between everything she had gone out of her way to learn in her seven years of school, and her friend’s help, she felt like she may actually stand a chance.

And with the Lady Slytherin title she held, she knew it would bring far more responsibilities than she could ever have imagined.

Merlin, how did Hermione manage everything? Despite being a year younger than her, Hermione accepted everything life threw at her with grace and acceptance. She fought for what she believed and stood firmly in her ideals. She held the Lady Gryffindor title with elegance, already making several plans for her future, and beginning to claim her family magic.

And Lily was so uncertain about every single aspect of this.

Yet Magic had accepted her. Despite her own insecurities, Salazar had accepted her as the Lady of the house when he had rejected Voldemort and so many others before him.

She put away a sweater as she heard an explosion downstairs and immediately reached for her wand. The sound of crashing and items breaking filled the house and she felt panic fill her.

“Expecto Patronum!” she cast, remembering the spells that she had practised so often in school, as she thought of James, of Hermione, and her family. Of the moment James kissed her.

The silvery doe looked at her expectantly, and she spoke to it, “Go to James. Tell him this: I need you to come urgently, I think I might be in danger.”

No sooner than the silvery doe had vanished, her bedroom door had blasted open, and she found herself staring face to face with Bellatrix Lestrange, Sirius’ and Regulus’ insane cousin, and Draco’s insane sister.

Behind her stood her husband, Rodolphus Lestrange, and Lucius Malfoy.

“I have been looking for you for quite some time now, mudblood,” Bellatrix hissed, as a smile filled her face, “And now, you took something that belonged to my Lord. Something that was his right to claim and you stole it from him.”

“Magic cannot be stolen,” Lily kept her voice calm, as she gripped her wand tigher, “Salazar Slytherin accepted me, when he rejected your lord. I am the rightful Lady Slytherin.”

“So it would seem,” a deeper voice came from behind Bellatrix, as the three Death Eaters moved out of the way to allow Lord Voldemort into her childhood bedroom. “So this is the new Lady of my house.”

“What are you doing here?” Lily asked, as she met the eyes of the man who had been terrorizing Wizarding Britain for the last few years.

“I am simply here to meet my new family,” Voldemort said, as he looked her over, “While you might not seem that impressive from first glance, I have heard tales of your power and intelligence. It seems you are indeed worthy of my line.”

“If you kill me, magic will not accept you still as the Head of the House,” Lily said, a slight tremble filling her voice. She had never been so grateful for her parents’ absence as they were at the store running errands.

“I don’t wish to kill you, Little Snake,” Voldemort chuckled, “I simply wish to meet the newest member of my house and make you an offer you cannot refuse.”

She could hear a distinct hissing in his voice as he spoke the words and yet she had understood them as clearly as she understood English. It took her a moment to realize that he was testing her, using Parseltongue to see if she had possessed the gifts of the house.

“I am uninterested in joining you or your cause,” Lily said back, and Bellatrix’s eyes widened at that, clearly not having expected the girl to be able to possess the gifts as well. “You seek to distort magic and it’s true purpose. You seek to ruin the balance between the Light and Dark that we need to survive. You will not save the world with your quest but destroy it. My house will have no part of this.”

Voldemort shot her an unimpressed look as he stepped forward towards her, “Perhaps you do not understand the position you are in, Lady Slytherin. You might possess the title of my house, but you are in no way more powerful than I. You would not stand a chance if you chose to go against me, even with our magic on your side. However, I am not here to kill you today, regardless of your callous words. I am here simply to offer you a chance, just as I plan on offering the Lady Gryffindor. We could accomplish great things if the two of you stood beside me, and I could use two of you with your talent and magic on my side. However, should you choose to stand against me, I will kill both of you, without hesitance, mercy, or compassion. I suggest you think it over carefully.”

He turned then, as he apparated away from the middle of her room, leaving the three Death Eaters behind.

“My Lord does not grant second chances,” Bellatrix advised her, “He is strong but not merciful. I suggest you heed his words carefully.”

The three left as well, and she sunk down to her knees, struggling to breathe as the terror she had been feeling came out then and left her feeling overwhelmed. She felt tears fill her eyes, as her own mortality filled her then.

“Lily!” she heard a scream, but she couldn’t say anything, as she heard steps thunder their way up the stairs and she saw James barrel towards her as he sunk down to look at her. “Oh Merlin, are you okay? What happened? Were you attacked?”

“Voldemort was here,” she murmured softly, and James pulled her into his arms.

She leaned against him as the room immediately became filled with others.

“We need to examine her,” Euphemia said softly as she entered the room, helping Lily stand, “Make sure nothing was done to her. Can you tell me what happened Lily?”

“Voldemort,” Lily said, and she saw the others look started at that, “He came to talk.”

“Did he hurt you?” Draco asked as he looked at her concerned. “Was he alone?”

“No,” Lily said softly, “He had Death Eaters with him. Rodolphus Lestrange, Lucius Malfoy, and Bellatrix.”

Sirius flinched at that while Draco looked cold at the mention of his two brothers-in-law.

“He wanted me to join his cause,” Lily said softly, “He wanted me, and he wants Hermione.”

She could see Hermione’s eyes flash viciously at that, looking furious at the idea that Voldemort had attacked, and that he had wanted her.

“We should get her out of here,” Hermione said, softly, “She never should have been alone in this house. I should have asked if her house was warded. I should have known it wouldn’t be safe.”

“I can’t just leave,” Lily protested, “What about my parents? They’ll be home any moment. At least I can protect myself, they’re on their own. I can’t leave them here where anything could happen to them!”

“It’s safer if you all spend the night at our home,” Fleamont said firmly, “We’ll return in the morning and place wards up around your house to make sure that no one is able to enter who isn’t allowed. It’ll keep them safe.”

“Thank you,” Lily said, feeling relieved. As much as she didn’t want to be alone in this house any longer, she couldn’t bear the thought of her parents being left here all alone.

She had never felt so grateful for having so many people surround her who cared about her.

Hermione sat alone in her bedroom as she mentally chided herself.

Lily Evans never would have been approached in the past timeline as she hadn’t claimed the line of Salazar Slytherin back then. However, Hermione had changed that. Hermione had been who had suggested Lily claim her family magic. Hermione had been the one who encouraged her to take the line. Hermione had been the one who told her that she would be there for her no matter what.

And she had failed. She hadn’t taken into account that Lily’s house might not be warded. She hadn’t taken into account that Lily would be targeted, and that Voldemort could have succeeded in killing Lily if he so wanted.

“Hermione,” Draco said as he entered her bedroom and she hastily wiped away her tears. “Are you okay?”

He moved towards where she was sitting on the bed.

“Have Lily and her parents been settled in okay?” Hermione asked, ignoring his question, instead choosing to focus on her friend.

“She has,” Draco nodded. “Lily’s parents are still a little stunned; I don’t think Lily told them the full extent of what claiming her Ladyship would entail. But your parents are reassuring them that they’ll be okay. Lily is with James.”

“This is my fault,” she said softly, “I should have known Lily would have been in danger, and I did nothing. It’s my fault that she even was a target in the first place. All because I didn’t think that she could have been in danger. I nearly lost the woman I’ve come to think of as a sister. I nearly caused James to lose his future wife. For Harry not to have been born! All because I didn’t think.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Draco told her softly, as he placed his arm around her. She leaned into him at that, “Lily is safe, and nothing happened to her. I didn’t think that it was a possibility either. We’re trying out best, Hermione, but we can’t predict every single thing that will happen. We can’t stop every single bad event. We aren’t seers. We’re trying to save the world, but we are not at responsible to stop everything bad that could happen.

“Everything is only going to get harder from here on out,” Hermione sighed, “The boys and Lily are done school now, and they no longer are sheltered within the walls of the school. They’ll be out in the real world, while we’re trying to finish a year of school that we don’t even need. We won’t be able to protect them. We won’t be able to keep them safe.”

“They can handle themselves,” Draco told her softly, “They’ll be safe. James knows the truth. He knows what could happen. And he won’t let Harry be raised in a world where he isn’t there to keep him safe. None of us will.”

“I think it might be time to tell them all the truth,” Hermione said softly. “To tell the rest of them, Remus, Sirius, Lily, Regulus, and Severus.”

“That would be a lot more people who know,” Draco said, looking at her carefully. “The more people who know, the higher the chances that Voldemort can find out. and I don’t want to imagine what he could do with that information.”

“We can trust them,” Hermione said softly, “They’re family. They’ve been there for us through everything. They deserve to know the truth.”

“Okay,” Draco nodded, “We’ll tell them. All of them. No more secrets. If we’re going to win this war, we need all of their help. And they deserve to know what’s at stake.”

Chapter Text

It was a week after the attack on Lily’s home when Hermione and Draco gathered their close family and friends in the Potter house, ready to tell them the news of what had happened. She had already told her parents and James that she was ready to tell the truth of the circumstances of how they came to enter the Wizarding World in 1972 to the rest of them. Her parents had been slightly wary, knowing the fact that others would know the truth would make them more at risk. But she had told her parents why they needed to tell the truth. Besides, her friends had proved time and time again just how loyal they were. None of them would betray her. Not in this life or any other.

James on the other hand had been proud. While she knew he’d take her secret to the grave, she knew it was weighing on him to keep it a secret from Lily and his friends.

“We gathered you here today, because we need to talk about something,” Hermione said a little shaky. “Draco and I have to tell you all something, and it will forever change the way you see us. We’ve been hiding something from you. Something big. Please, just listen to what we have to say before you have any questions.”

Severus simply raised a brow at that, while Regulus looked puzzled. Lily looked confused and Remus a little contemplative. Sirius, on the other hand, had plenty to say about it.

“Please tell me you didn’t get her pregnant,” Sirius asked, squawking at the both of them. “I thought you were both too smart for that.”

“I’m not pregnant!” Hermione huffed and James looked gobsmacked.

“That’s what you think this is about?” James demanded, “My little sister would never be so careless! Merlin, Sirius!”

“She’s definitely not pregnant,” Draco shook his head, “It’s nothing of the sort.”

“Perhaps you ought to tell us then,” Remus suggested, “Before any more imaginations are allowed to run wild.”

“We’re from the future,” Draco said, and Sirius burst out laughing.

“No really, why did you call us here?” Sirius asked.

“I don’t think they’re joking,” Lily said eyeing them. “How far into the future?”

“The year 2000,” Hermione said. “We landed in 1972, through the use of a ritual we found in the Black Family Grimoire that allowed us to be born into families we belonged into.”

“Are you James’ daughter?” Lily asked, slightly timidly, leaving out the bigger question, ‘Are you my daughter.’

“No,” Hermione said softly, “But I was best friends with your son. He adopted me through a blood ritual to make me his sister. He was my family. We went through so much together. We went through a war together. He was the only family I had left in the end, and it broke my heart to leave him behind. But he had been fighting his entire life against Voldemort and everyone who sought to tear him down. He didn’t deserve to fight in this too.”

“We never beat him?” Sirius asked, shaking slightly, “He’s alive for so long that you have to travel back in time in an effort to defeat him?”

“He rose to power in the mid 1970s,” Hermione said softly, “It’s why we came back to this time. But there was a prophecy of the one who could defeat him born at the end of the seventh month. To a couple who defied him three times. There were two children who fit that role, the son of Frank and Alice Longbottom, Neville. And the son of James and Lily Potter, Harry. Voldemort chose you. He sought you out after Peter Pettigrew betrayed your location, as he was the Secret Keeper, switched in secret from Sirius to him. No one knew but the four of them. And on October 31^st, 1981, Voldemort came for your family. James died first, trying to give you time to escape. He found you in the nursery, and you pleaded for his life. You died for him, Lily, and that sacrifice saved Harry. The killing curse rebounded off of him and Voldemort fell that night, while Harry survived, and was named the Boy Who Lived. He was a year old and the world immediately turned him into a hero.”

Lily started shaking at that and James wrapped an arm around her.

“My son,” Lily said softly, “Did he at least grow up with Sirius and Remus? Was he safe? Loved?”

“No,” Hermione choked out slightly, “Sirius went mad, and went after Peter. No one else knew he was the Secret Keeper and Peter yelled it out for the world to hear that Sirius got you both killed. He transformed after killing a street of muggles and the world believed Sirius to be guilty. He was thrown into Azkaban. Remus didn’t have the means to raise a child, not in that world. And Dumbledore believed it best if Petunia Dursley raised him as it was your blood who saved him. She raised him, but he never knew love.”

“How could I believe that Sirius was guilty?” Remus asked, a little heartbroken at the thought. And Sirius reached out and took his hand.

“You two weren’t together in that time,” Draco answered, “Something happened in your fifth year. And incident with Severus, and you couldn’t trust him anymore. And Dumbledore sent you undercover during the war, and Sirius lost trust in you. You believed it until Sirius broke out of Azkaban to hunt down Peter as he was posing as a pet rat to a family close to Harry. But Sirius was never exonerated, not until his death.”

“Merlin,” Remus breathed out.

Severus looked a little startled at the fact that clearly in this other lifetime something had happened which had shaken the group. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together that without Hermione, he never would have mended wards with James Potter.

“But something happened did it not?” Severus continued to ask, “You never would have come back otherwise.”

“Voldemort had these dark objects; Horcruxes, which stored his soul. He used it to resurrect himself in our fourth year. But the world did not believe it until a year later when he attacked the Ministry of Magic. The same battle in which Sirius died, and Harry finally learned the truth of the Prophecy about him,” Hermione breathed angrily. “All because Dumbledore did not want to tell the truth.”

“Voldemort fell in 1998,” Draco said, tiredly, “Hermione, Harry, and another, Ronald Weasley, went on the run and destroyed the Horcruxes. On May 2^nd, he finally fell. But the world was already damaged. Magic was damaged. And my father and aunt made it worse. They killed my mother and continued to destroy the world. We came back because there was no choice. Magic was dying.”

“Your mother?” Regulus asked softly, “Narcissa?”

“Yes,” Draco said softly, and Sirius gave Regulus a questioning look.

“He has to be one of our children to be a Black,” Regulus said, “Hermione only mentioned the Blood adoption for herself. I doubt you could be his father and could kill any of his aunts, and while I don’t know what happened to me in that time, I doubt it was me either. Meaning his father married in. And somehow, I don’t see Ted Tonks as a murderer. It could be Rodolphus but he doesn’t have any insane sisters. But Bellatrix on the other hand. She I could see. It also would make sense why Draco was so upset over Narcissa and Lucius’ wedding.”

“How much have you changed?” Lily questioned.

“A lot,” Hermione admitted. “Severus was never supposed to remain your friend, but I knew he would be a valuable ally, and was only isolated because of a misunderstanding and because the school treated Slytherins poorly. He turned into a Death Eater and delivered the Prophecy to Voldemort but died trying to keep us all safe. Regulus never reconciled with Sirius and died as a Death Eater while trying to change his ways. Family magic remained unclaimed. Obviously, Peter is no longer still your friend but that wasn’t my intention. I tried to save him, but it seems as if his own insecurities got to him. Andromeda Black was kicked out of the family, and Sirius ran away from home as Arcturus never stood up for him. As far as I know there was no Grey Political Party, so the world became more and more divided.”

They all looked shaken at the things she mentioned.

“Why now?” Remus asked after a moment. “Why tell us the truth know?”

“Because you deserve to know the truth,” Hermione told them, “We almost have all the Horcruxes. The war will most likely be over in the next year or so, one way or another, and with almost all of you in the real world, it will be a lot more dangerous for you.”

“Did you only befriend me because of the Prophecy?” Severus asked and Hermione vehemently shook her head.

“No!” she said quickly. “You’re right, I tried hard to be your friend, but it was because you deserved better. You weren’t the same person who went down that dark path. You never did any of those things. You deserved a chance to live a life where you were not isolated because of your house. And you maintained your friendship with Lily, have a brilliant Potions apprenticeship, and regained a relationship with your grandparents.”

Severus looked placated at that, but Regulus looked heartbroken.

“Without Draco, Sirius and I never were able to reconcile, were we?” he asked, confirming the fact that it was Draco who drove them back together.

“It’s not your fault,” Sirius told him as he placed a hand on his brother’s back, “I was the idiot. I couldn’t see past my own insecurities. But you’re stuck with me Reggie.”

Regulus smiled at his older brother and Hermione felt her heart melt ever so slightly.

“Did you know?” Sirius asked James and everyone immediately turned to face her brother. “Did they tell you the truth? You’re being awfully quiet about this, when I know you would have a lot of questions about this. Given that it was your son who saved the world twice.”

“Only for a year,” James raised his hand, “Hermione didn’t even mean for me to find out. She was upset after I was injured in the attack last year and didn’t know I was listening. Merlin it’s been hard keeping it from you lot.”

“You knew that we would have a son and didn’t tell me?” Lily demanded, “I have a right to know!”

“I know,” James said softly to his girlfriend, “You did. You still do. It’s why I am glad Hermione is telling you now. But this secret puts all of us in danger. I was trying to keep you all safe.”

“You broke the Marauder code,” Sirius crossed his arms, “We have no secrets between us.”

“This is the only one,” James pleaded, “You know why I had to keep it a secret.”

“She was horrible to him, wasn’t she?” Lily asked, voice breaking. “Petunia.”

“She was,” Hermione said softly. “It will never happen this time, Lily. I promise. I’ll never let anything happen to you or James. And in the horrible chance it does, I’ll keep him safe. He will grow up knowing how loved and wanted he is. He’ll never know that life.”

“Can you tell me about him?” Lily asked softly. “About Harry?”

“He was the nicest person I knew,” Hermione said softly. “He looked just like James but had your eyes. And well, I was a bit of a swot when we first started. I was entering this world that I knew nothing of and tried to do as much research as I could. And I came off as a know-it-all at times. I didn’t hit it off immediately with Harry or Ron, but the two of them were immediately as thick of thieves. And while Halloween in this time was a time of pranks, in my time it was whenever trouble found Harry the most. Because trouble always did find him. On my first Halloween I was crying in the bathroom when a troll was let lose in the school, a diversion set by a professor Voldemort was possessing to try and steal the Philosopher’s stone. And Harry and Ron came after me because I didn’t know. The three of us fought the troll together, and we became friends.”

“He really is your son,” Lily accused, looking at James, while her brother looked proud at the story.

“Youngest seeker in a century too,” James bragged and Hermione grinned. “McGonagall had to put him on the team when she saw how brilliant he was.”

Lily shook her head at that but had a soft smile on her face, as Draco launched onto the next story about the time Harry Potter stole a Hippogriff and rescued his Godfather from execution while running away from a werewolf.

Lily Evans was making this trip solely as a courtesy to her older sister.

She had hoped time and time again that she and Petunia Dursley née Evans, would one day be able to reconcile and her sister would be able to accept the fact that Lily had magic and Petunia did not. That they could go back to being sisters like they once were able to before everything had fallen apart.

She was done being sorry that she had magic while Petunia didn’t. It wasn’t her fault nor was it anything she should be embarrassed of. Magic was in her blood.  But it seemed as if it were something Petunia Evans never would be able to get over. So much so that she raised her sister’s son as a bloody slave, abusing him and letting him feel worthless. Her son grew up begging for scraps about his own parents, unknowing what caring parents felt like, and grew up as truly alone. Her son endured so much because her own sister couldn’t bring herself to care.

And Lily could never forgive her for that.

Even if this Petunia hadn’t done that yet, Lily had no doubt that she was headed down that path anyways. That she would sooner let her son rot than care for him. And Lily couldn’t move past that.

But it didn’t change the fact that her parent’s house had been attacked. That Petunia was still family and that Voldemort could and would attack her to get to Lily. And Lily owed it to her to at least try, one last time.

“What are you doing here?” Petunia asked, frowning as she looked at Lily. Her house was cookie cutter and utterly ordinary, and Lily expected nothing less than that from her older sister.

“Mum and Dad’s house was attacked,” Lily breathed, “Because a mad man terrorizing my world is furious that I claimed my lineage when he thinks it belongs to him. I’ve come to ask you to allow me to protect your house, Petunia. Because when he finds out about you, and he will find out about you, he’ll send someone to hurt you. Please, let me put up some wards so I can keep you and Vernon safe.”

“I always knew you would be the death of us,” Petunia shook her head, “You and your magic. And now you nearly got Mum and Dad killed because of your freakishness. I should have cut off contact with you long ago, maybe then my family could have been safe from your horridness. And now you stand on my doorstep, telling me my family is in danger because of you and something you chose to do? You claimed something that didn’t even belong to you? Why couldn’t you just be normal? Why did I have to have such a freak for a sister? What did I do to deserve this?”

“I am the rightful Lady of Slytherin,” Lily said, standing straighter. “I was accepted by magic, the highest authority. It belongs to me because I am worthy. But I am not here to discuss that with you, Petunia. I am here to tell you that you are in danger. And even if it were not for me, you would still be in danger because there is a psychopath who believes himself to be a ruler of the world. With or without me that would not change. And whether you like it or not, we are family. We are related by blood. And Voldemort will come for you because of it. You can hate me all you want but let me keep you safe. Let me put up wards so your home will be protected, and you will not be in danger. Let me keep you safe, Petunia.”

Petunia stood there, shaking, out of fear and out of fury, but Lily kept her stance. “Fine,” Petunia said finally. “You can put up whatever nonsense magic you want, but after that I expect you to get out of my home and out of my life. I never want to see you again or have you in my life. Never contact me, never come here, and never interfere with my family again.”

“Fine,” Lily ground out, knowing that this was truly the end of her relationship with her sister. Silently, she cast protection wards over her sister’s home. And when it was done, she turned to her sister. “I only wanted to be your younger sister. I loved you and you hated me for it. I’ve tried time and time again, but I’m done trying, Petunia. You’ve made it abundantly clear that you will never want anything to do with me. And I’m tired of trying only to be hurt time and time again. I hope you have a good life and I wish you well.”

She turned from the house and apparated away. She was done trying to have a relationship with her sister, who hated her enough to abuse her son in the future. She had a family who loved her, and a younger sister in the form of Hermione Potter. She had more than enough family to love her and accept her for who she was. And if her sister couldn’t do that, then that was her loss.

Hermione watched with a grin as Draco bounced his five-year-old niece on his lap, as Nymphadora clapped while Draco read to her from the book of fairy tales that Hermione had procured for him from the Potter Library. Andromeda and Tonks had to leave to take care of his father who had fallen ill, and she had asked if they would be able to take care of the girl for a few days.

As the majority of the Blacks were currently residing in the Potter house, they had immediately agreed to care for the girl while her parents were busy.

She had no idea what happened with Ted’s parents in the first timeline, and she wished she could offer some sort of reassurance, but the truth was that she simply did not know. It had an eeriy sense of foreboding, as she knew her own parents met their demise long before 1981, and they grew closer and closer to that every day. And Hermione had no idea if she’d be able to saved them.

Nymphadora listened raptly as Draco read to her, her hair already a pale blonde and her face contouring into different shapes as the stories progressed. The girl was adorable, but there was something about watching Draco with her that made her own heart melt.

 “He’s good with her, isn’t he?” Sirius asked her softly as he watched Draco with his niece.

“He is,” Hermione said, smiling. “Dora adores him, and I know she already has him wrapped around her finger. Andromeda sends him pictures of her every month and he always looks proud of his goddaughter. I think he’s secretly making an album of all of them, but I don’t think he wants anyone to know about that.”

“I don’t blame him. Andromeda’s letters are always so exciting. I am grateful to the two of you for that. She’s always been like an older sister to me and I think it would have devastated me if she had run away from home. You both changed so many lives. You’ve already made the world a far better place, and no one will ever know just how much you’ve done for them,” Sirius told her. “I don’t blame you for keeping it a secret, but I admit it makes things make a lot more sense. You always knew far more than you were letting on.”

“Her acceptance by the family was truly one of the biggest steps in causing a change for the Black family. I admit, I didn’t know much about your grandfather, but I was surprised how active he’s been in all of this. From what I understand, he wasn’t as present in the first war.”

Sirius was about to say something but was interrupted as owls appeared at the window, carrying their Hogwarts letters. She felt a sense of sadness fill her, knowing that it would only be her, Draco, and Regulus returning, as the others had graduated and left Hogwarts behind them.

“Hogwarts letters are here!” Regulus announced, and Draco shot her a smile as he and Nymphadora came over to open their letters. She felt a sense of nostalgia fill her. She had opened more Hogwarts letters than the ordinary student, but there was still a sense of excitement fill her as she gingerly opened the letter in front of her, curious what it would say.

To her utter surprise a badge fell out of it and Sirius quickly nicked it from her. Her heart beat slightly quicker as she realized just what it was that her letter had contained.

“Oi James, seems as if your little sister is following in your footsteps for the first time. Head Girl!” Sirius cheered as he dangled the badge for them all to see.

“Congratulations, Hermione!” Her mother shot her a smile and Hermione felt a sense of pride fill her. She had never gotten the chance to try for Head Girl in her time, but she knew that even if she had attended Hogwarts that year, there was very little chance she would have been Head Girl.

“Well done, Hermione” James grinned, “Merlin knows you deserve it far more than I did. You’ll do a brilliant job as Head Girl.”

“Thanks, Jamie,” she beamed at her brother, and James nudged her slightly as she skimmed the rest of the letter, making a quick note of what books she would need to buy.

“No way,” Regulus said in shock as he held up a badge of his own. “How am I Head Boy? If anyone deserved this, it was Draco. How did I get Head Boy?”’

Draco shook his head, “While I would have liked the badge, you deserved it Reg. You’ve grown a lot since your first year of school. You’ve come out of your shell and managed what no one else ever has before. You unified the school, making it so that Slytherins no longer feel discriminated against, and you’ve also befriended those in other houses. No one has ever done anything as remarkable as that. You deserve the badge.”

“Thanks, Draco,” Regulus gave him a smile.

“Betrayed by my own blood,” Sirius sighed, “I suppose it was always meant to happen with all the good influences you have in your life. You’ve never even pulled a prank before! Oh brother of mine, you are indeed far too good for this world and all of us in it. But I can think of no one who deserves the badge more than you.”

“Uncle Reggie” Dora clapped her hands and Hermione grinned.

“Thanks, Sirius,” Regulus laughed as he pressed a kiss against his niece’s cheek. “Thanks, Nymphadora.”

The young girl in question scrunched her nose up at the name and Hermione laughed. It seemed in every lifetime the girl would hold great disdain for her name.

They would head back to school in a few weeks, but until then Hermione cherished the time with her family dearly. Because she had a feeling that very soon everything would change, one way or another.

Chapter Text

It was a few days shy of her return to her final year of school when Hermione began to notice the differences in her father. She could see the bumps appear on his arms and when he sneezed, there were small sparks.

It didn’t take a lot for her to realize what was going on. She knew from the original timeline that her parents would at some point contract Dragon Pox before 1981 and they would both die from it. It was the unfortunate reason that Harry had ended up with his muggle aunt, as he had no direct blood relatives left to claim him. Although a case could have been made for Narcissa Malfoy or Andromeda Tonks due to the Black blood in Harry, if either pushed for it. Yet Dumbledore had manipulated the flow of events and ensured that Harry had grown up with the Dursleys due to him wanting Harry to be away from the Wizarding World during his formative years.

She had saved so many people so far, but to see her father having contracted the symptoms, most likely from Abraxas Malfoy after a Wizengamot session, led to her being filled with panic. Even if this wasn’t the exact instance that left her an orphan, there was still a chance that this would be the reason she no longer had any parents. And she refused to let that happen if she had a chance.

She knew a decent amount about the disease; that it was curable but more likely to be fatal in older patients. And her father and mother were in no way young when they had James or herself.

“I’m fine, Hermione,” Fleamont said in response to her inquiries on how he was feeling with a small wave of his hands as he continued to read the paper at the table. He sipped his cup of tea as James was busy bantering with Sirius and her mother was moving around the dining room ensuring all of the house’s occupants were settled for breakfast.

“I think you should get it checked out, Dad,” Hermione pushed on. “If you have Dragon Pox then it is highly contagious and could have fatal consequences.”

“I don’t have Dragon Pox, Darling,” he said as he shook his head, “It’s just a pesky cold. Give it a few days and it will go away.”

“It’s not a cold!” she said firmly, “Mum! You and I both know that there is no way this is a cold. But Dad is being stubborn.”

“You know how your father is,” Euphemia sighed, “He never wants to believe he’s anything less than perfectly healthy. It’ll be the death of him one of these days, I tell you.”

“Dad,” she said softly, “Please. I need you to go get this checked out. Don’t be stubborn on this. Please, just don’t fight this.”

Her father put down the paper, looking over at her concerned as her voice shook slightly and it immediately got the attention of everyone else in the room.

“Hermione,” her mother said as she sat down beside Hermione at the table, “Is everything alright? Is there something you wish to talk about?”

“I never told you how you and Dad died,” Hermione whispered, and Draco took her hand from beside her. She knew the others were listening intently, curious as to what it was that that she had to say. James paled considerably at the concept of his parents dying, and she didn’t blame him.

“They die?” James murmured, looking at his parents, “That’s why my son grows up with aunt.  Because our parents are gone.”

“Yes,” Hermione said swallowing. Before she had come back in time, she hadn’t considered how much it would hurt to lose her parents to be. She had lost her own parents before the war when she had wiped their memory. And that had been painful for her in ways she couldn’t begin to explain. And now she might lose a second set of parents.

“How?” Sirius demanded, looking at her filled with pain. And she didn’t blame him; not when he considered her parents to be like his own.

“Dragon Pox,” Hermione said, gesturing to her father and the bumps on his hand. “I don’t know if this is the incident that causes it or not, but what if it is?”

“Dragon Pox can be curable, as long as he gets the treatment before the symptoms get worse,” Euphemia told her daughter, kissing her on the head. “Your father will be admitted to the hospital and he will be cured.”

“I’m not going to argue with that,” Fleamont raised his hands, standing. “I won’t put you through the pain of losing me if there’s anything I can do to stop it.”

“Good,” Hermione said, as she grabbed her wand.

It was how the family found themselves at St Mungo’s a few hours later, watching from outside the room her father was in while the Medi-witches and Healers were examining him and administering potions. Her father had protested when they had admitted him into urgent care, saying that he was fine, and it wasn’t serious, not yet anyways. But after seeing Hermione’s face, he didn’t try too hard to protest it. Something she was extremely grateful for.

And as Remus had taken Sirius and Regulus to get some food for them, Hermione had insisted on staying. She needed to see her father, needed to know that he would be alright.

“I’m proud of you, Hermione,” Her mother said as she placed an arm around her shoulders, while James stood on the other side of her. “I want you to know that. Even if I wasn’t your mother before you went through the ritual, you’re my daughter and nothing will change that. I’m proud of you.”

“He still could die,” Hermione trembled. “The Healers need to examine him still and we have no way of knowing if it even made a difference.”

“It did,” Euphemia said. “At the very least, I will not contract the disease from your father. But I have faith that he will survive this. He’s strong, your father. He’ll fight through this and do whatever it takes to make it out alive. But I want you to know that whenever we do pass, your father and I, that there was nothing you could have done. You’ve already changed so much and saved so many people. I have no doubt that you will win this war and make the world a better place, with or without us by your side. And we are both so proud of everything you’ve done.”

“I love you,” she said, shaking, and James squeezed her hand. “I don’t want to lose any of you.”

“We love you too, Hermione,” James kissed her forehead gently. “We love you and we will always be with you. And if not in person, then in spirit. You’ll never be alone.”

She swallowed, as she allowed her family to comfort her. She couldn’t control everything about the future, but at least she was trying. She prayed that telling her parents about the Dragon Pox would be enough to save them, because she couldn’t bear it if they still died from this despite everything. Logically, she knew her parents were old, but she wasn’t ready to lose them, and she wasn’t sure she’d ever be ready to face a world without her parents by her side.

Dumbledore frowned as he fingered the envelope that Nurmengard had sent to him. He only knew of one prisoner there, and he hadn’t talked to him in years.

It had been too hard to face Grindelwald after everything had happened years ago. Not after they had made those promises to each other so long ago.

He had felt so alone growing up. He knew he was brilliant, it was hard for him not to realize such a thing. But it had come at the cost of acceptance by his peers. He had felt so alone, as if no one could possibly relate to him.

And then Gellert had come along, and there was someone who knew him; someone who understood him. Understood what it was like to be an outcast. Understood what it was like for no one to relate to him. And he had swept Albus off his feet.

He had been foolish enough to believe in a dream that they wouldn’t have to hide their magic anymore. It was the unacceptance from muggles that left his sister broken and left them without a father. Why did they have to hide when they could easily rule over them? Then no innocents like his sister ever would have to be hurt.

And the Deathly Hallows. It was a fool’s quest. He might have possessed the Elder Wand, but that was only obtained after stealing it from Gellert after defeating him in a duel. After he had been forced to step in. After the love of his life had crossed too many boundaries and had killed many innocents while pursuing his quest, their quest, as it would have been Dumbledore there right by his side if it weren’t for the death of his own sister.

It terrified him, to know that he too could have been a Dark Lord, if it weren’t for such a horrible event. It was why Voldemort terrified him. Because there was no one Voldemort could lose which would cause him to stop dead in his path and change his ways. There was no humanity left in him. There was nothing but darkness.

He knew that Gellert had been a true opponent to them in their duel. He wasn’t foolish enough to believe that Gellert had been giving that duel his all. Not when he too had been holding back, because despite their doomed romance, he still loved Gellert. He loved him so much it hurt sometimes. And Gellert had thrown the duel, unable to hurt Albus either. It was why Albus had him locked up and why Gellert hadn’t tried to escape, despite being perfectly capable of it.

But neither had tried to reach out to the other since that day, unable to speak to the other. They were only capable of hurting the other, and their love always was destined to fail. He had moved on from it, throwing himself into his role as a Professor but unable to let his heart love anyone else. How could he when it had been so disastrous the first time?

And yet here the letter lay in his hands, after all this time. For the first time in decades he was receiving a letter which could only be from the man he once loved, the man he still loved, and he had no idea why.

So he gingerly opened the letter and skimmed the contents, before dropping it. He trembled as he tried to process what had happened. Long ago he had asked the warden of the prison to notify him of any changes in Gellert’s status, still needed to know if the man was okay, despite everything. And not once in all those years did he hear a single thing. Not until today. Not until he received the notice that Gellert Grindelwald had been found dead in his cell, murdered.

Gellert Grindelwald had been found tortured in his cell and murdered with the killing cursed, and Albus Dumbledore knew that there truly was only one person who could even be responsible for such a thing. Only one person who was either brave or foolish to visit the last Dark Lord and try and torture him for information. One person who could cause Dumbledore pain, and continue to be a thorn in his side. One person who had continued to be a source of annoyance and constant worry since he had left the school the same year that Dumbledore had defeated Grindelwald. The same student who he knew was responsible for far more of the havoc wreaked on the school than he would ever take credit for.

And Albus Dumbledore vowed that he would defeat Tom Riddle if it were the absolute last thing he did.

Lily knew that the truth coming out about her being the Lady Slytherin would come out to the general public in due time. While she had done nothing to hide the truth from the public by concealing the general records, she had hardly gone around sharing the news with others. Those who wanted to know about it could find out through their own means, and she knew from Voldemort’s unexpected and unwelcome visit that he already knew. Hell, she wouldn’t be surprised if Dumbledore did either, given the way that he had been constantly meddling with everything. Even with trying to get them all to join his Order.

It wasn’t that she held the same distrust of the Professor as Hermione and Draco seemingly did. He had always been nice enough to her in the past. But she could see the truth in what her friends were saying. He had always glanced disapprovingly at her and Severus’ friendship, never making her feel as if it was something he was comfortable with.

And more so, he was the reason her son grew up with Petunia.

It wasn’t that she blamed him for her sister’s abuse. He couldn’t have known how horrid her sister would treat him. But it seemed as if he left Harry there, her son there, for over a decade without once checking in on his physical and mental wellbeing. Her son had grown up barely knowing anything more about his parents than their name. And that was absolutely unacceptable in her eyes. Her son hadn’t known what it was like to be loved. He hadn’t known what it meant to be cared for.

She swallowed, unable to stomach the thought. Despite how morbid it was, she was grateful to Hermione. Grateful for the changes she had made, changes that meant that in the case of her death, Harry would grow up with family. She trusted her son with her pseudo sister. And she knew that Harry would never be alone; not in this life.

She had never tried to hide the fact that she was Lady Slytherin, but she had done little to advertise it, beyond wearing her family’s ring. She enjoyed the fact that everyone didn’t know. She remembered how everyone had rushed Hermione when they found out that she had claimed the Gryffindor Ladyship. She wasn’t trying to hide the fact that she claimed her heritage. But she had to admit, it was nice to have the peace and quiet.

When it inevitably came out, it did so in a flashy way. Some new reporter, Skeeter, who had graduated from Hogwarts years before she even had attended had seen fit to break the story to the press. It seemed to be far more of an opinion piece, and Skeeter questioned how Lily, a Gryffindor had the right to the Slytherin line, and that clearly it was some sort of elaborate scheme for her to claim the fame and fortune that came with the line.

Because clearly Lily cared so much about the money that she would risk Lord Voldemort’s wrath by claiming a title he believed to be his.

That was definitely why Lily had claimed her magic. For no other reason than the money.

Thankfully for her, it seemed that only a handful of articles in the paper agreed with Skeeter’s thought process.

In turn, it had spewed an entire slew of articles on the benefits of claiming family magic or the disadvantages, based on where the Author stood on the political spectrum, and whether they were for muggleborns and half-bloods having the same access to their magic or not.

It took exactly a day after the article came out for someone to confront her about it.

She had just started her Healer training at St Mungo's, as she was in a study environment, learning while she shadowed a Healer around the hospital.

Another man in her program had taken one look at her and started his harassment.

“Well if it isn’t Lady Slytherin,” he sneered at her. “I guess titles don’t mean much if you still have to go through this program with the rest of us. Perhaps you didn’t inherit the intelligence of your house’s legacy? It’s almost as if you don’t deserve the title that you carry. Almost as if you somehow fooled it into allowing you to claim the title. I doubt magic even accepted you. You probably just spread the rumour to gain the popularity.”

“Why would I lie about something like that?” Lily asked, irritated at the blonde male who seemed to think it was necessary to make her life miserable. What did it even matter to him anyways? “You know you cannot fool magic right? Magic determined me to be the new Lady Slytherin, and as such it automatically became a matter of public record. You can go look it up if you’d like. I think you’ll also find that falsifying such records would be rather difficult to do given the spells that protect the documents.”

“And yet even if you were a Slytherin, you wouldn’t be worthy,” he snarled at her. “You’re a mudblood. You don’t deserve the title of a man who was known to have hated people like you. He’d be ashamed to know it was you who held his title. Instead of someone worthier, someone like Lord Voldemort who is making a difference and trying to restore our world instead of those unworthy to carry magic.”

“That is quite enough,” A healer said as she entered the room. “Mr Thomas, you ought to know that magic is embodied in the will of the House. If Ms Evans was chosen to be the Lady of her house, it is because she will lead it into the right direction. However, this is a matter for outside this session, and I will not have my class be disrupted because you are unhappy with another House’s matters. This is neither the time nor the place and I will not tolerate such conversations.”

Lily nodded grateful. She really just wanted to learn.

Walburga Black sat at her breakfast table as she sipped her tea and ate the meal that Kreature had placed in front of her. Her husband had left for the day, headed to the Ministry for work. While her husband had long since known that he would never be the Head of the House, despite being the first son of his father, the current Lord, it didn’t stop him from constantly trying to further his own political agendas. The ones that should have aligned with the good of the family, and yet now her family felt like it was being torn apart.

Her father-in-law had banished his niece for siding with someone her family should have stood proudly behind. Bellatrix was no longer her niece in magic, no longer had access to their family or their legacy. Because she had done what was right.

Instead her Gryffindor son was still in line to become the new Head of the House with her father-in-law proudly supporting him. And it seemed as if her family was destined to follow. Regulus and Draco, good pure children who still had a hope of steering their family back onto the correct path wanted nothing to do with the lordship, choosing instead to back her wayward son. One she should have killed when she still had the chance.

And yet it was too late now; her son had left the house he had been raised in, to live with the blood traitors the Potters, and far away from her grasp. She blamed Arcturus really, because he had stopped her from disowning him. Even if she couldn’t so formally, it wasn’t as if her idiot son would realize the difference. He would simply run away from all his responsibilities to the point where Arcturus would have no other choice but to appoint another heir.

Her pure innocent baby Regulus had been dragged into all of this, and that was the part that annoyed her the most. Regulus, who hadn’t done a thing wrong, was forced to leave home to save face. For no one would question if the Black children chose to visit their friends for extended holidays and such. Especially given the relationship between the two houses. Even if she disapproved of it, she knew the Potters had become one of the greatest allies to the Blacks.

She sighed to herself as she opened the Daily Prophet to read through it as she did most mornings. How else would she have any idea just what was going on in the Wizarding World? While it might have been the duty of the husband to take care of the politics, it was the wife who navigated the family socially, and so she had done for many years. She had gotten the Blacks invited to every social gathering and given her husband the ear of many important men in their world. So much so that they could control the politics from behind the scenes.

Lord Voldemort: Pureblood Heir of Slytherin or Sheep In Dragon Hide?

By Rita Skeeter

My loyal readers, as many of you know, I aim to provide you all with the utmost truth at any given time. So much so that I have made it my own personal mission to ensure that you are all well informed of the comings and goings of our current society. And I hope that I will always be able to do so, without any fear of what it will mean for my own persons, as long as the truth gets out.

For the last few years we have all heard of the newest Dark Lord on the block, going by the name Lord Voldemort, supposed heir of Slytherin himself. He spun promises of a better world. Of a world where we no longer need to remain in hiding. A world where we truly have the chance to live out of the shadows.

He did so by preaching the importance of the purity of blood. How mixing with muggleborns and muggles only dilute one’s magic and cause them to forget their roots. And he urged us to remember where we came from.

While it cannot be confirmed at this point, rumours are that he is also responsible for the slew of attacks that have struck our nation as of late, with attacks as recent as the attack on Ravenclaw’s Hamlet, leading to the death of five wizards and witches, including three-year-old Margaret Regsworthy.

And yet, a rumour has surfaced as of late questioning the purity of this Lord Voldmort himself. For the man claims to be the heir of Salazar Slytherin, uniting his followers under that title. Yet it was a muggleborn by the name of Lily Evans who claimed the title of Lady Slytherin. This leads us to question who this Lord Voldemort really is. For if he were the heir of Slytherins, why was he unable to claim the family titles for himself?

This has also led to other rumours circulating, that this Lord Voldemort is none other than Tom Riddle. For those of us born in the last few decades, Tom Riddle attended Hogwarts between 1938 to 1945. He was the top student in his class and the Head boy of his year. And yet he dropped off the face of the earth after his schooling. And for those of you keeping track, Riddle most certainly is not a wizard name. In fact, it is a muggle name. Coincidently the same name of a man senior to Riddle, who had been rumoured to have run away with Merope Gaunt only to claim she had seduced him with her witchcraft years later.

It is a coincidence as well, I’m sure, that the Gaunts were the last to be able to claim descendance from Salazar Slytheirn, leading us to a pretty picture of a family tree being formed.

I might not be a detective, but it certainly paints a pretty picture of a half-blood boy pretending to be something he is not in order to seduce powerful families into backing his cause.

I leave you now with that thought and hope you do with it what you may.

Walburga threw the paper across the room. It wasn’t the first time she had heard certain accusations. And part of her wanted to disregard it. Despite his unfortunate heritage, at least this Lord Voldemort was fighting for the right causes. Yet it seemed as if he left only death and destruction in his path. Yet it was the blood traitors who died, so she supposed she could forgive it.

One thing was for certain, such an article would not stand.

Chapter Text

Despite having attended Hogwarts for roughly twelve years, despite in different life times, Hermione didn’t think that anything would have been able to have prepared her for going back to school without her brother by her side.

She still knew people at the school for Merlin’s sake! Mary was still her roommate, Draco, her boyfriend, still was in all of her courses. And she still spent a decent amount of time in the library studying with Regulus. Because despite having known the material for ages, she never had written the NEWTs in her first life, and she’d have to write it one life or another.

But she still missed the others. She missed James and Sirius bantering over breakfast about what they thought McGonagall was thinking at that exact moment. Or how James would steal bacon from her plate when she wasn’t looking despite there being a full tray in front of him. She missed Sirius being over the top in trying to obtain Remus’ attention when his head was buried in a book despite the fact that they had been dating for years and Sirius already knew Remus loved him. Or how Severus would frown in disdain at them all, despite her knowing fully well that he was fond of them all.

It was silly, really. She still would see her family and friends on holidays and such. James already had a plan to ensure that all of them moved back into her family home like one massive family. She knew it wasn’t practical, and she doubted it would even happen. She was sure James would one day want to move in with Lily as they moved forward in their life. And while she had no idea where her own life would take her, she hoped that she may have a life one day with Draco. Plus, she was sure her parents would go mad if they had to deal with all of them all the time, no matter how much they loved their many children and adopted children.

It was why she had found herself looking forward to the first Hogwarts weekend. Draco and Regulus were out with a few of their Slytherin friends, and she had a friend waiting for her in Hogsmeade. Someone whom she had missed dearly and couldn’t wait to catch up with.

“Hermione!” Lily said happily as she came through the door of the Three Broomsticks. “I’m so happy to see you!”

“Me too,” Hermione grinned as she hugged her one-day sister-in-law. “How have you been? How is your Healer training?”

“It’s been good!” Lily said with a grin, “Merlin though. I never thought I would miss Hogwarts as much as I do. I got so used to living in a dorm and having all my meals made for me. I never accounted for how tiring it would be to have to clean and cook for myself after a long day of work. But I’m liking it. I feel like a real adult.”

“I saw that the press released a story on your Ladyship,” Hermione said softly, and Lily sighed.

“I knew the truth would become public knowledge in time, and that there would be a lot of strong opinions on the matter. I just never thought that so many people would have so many opinions on it,” Lily sighed again. “There was this one jerk at work who tried to tell me I faked my heritage somehow. Like such a thing is even possible. He’s in the same training program as I am. Clearly, he can’t be an utter idiot. And yet he has these stupid thoughts on how I am unworthy for the line. But he’s not the only one. The world seems torn on what they think about me.”

“I’m sorry,” Hermione sighed softly, “I know that can be tough. You don’t deserve to be going through this. But at the same time, I’m glad you claimed your magic. It is your birthright. And Salazar Slytherin himself agreed. You will do great things for the Slytherin name, would bring it to new heights. And together, we can mend the broken relationship between our two houses. Slytherin and Gryffindor will stand together once more.”

Lily smiled at her as she squeezed her hand. “How are you? How is Hogwarts?”

“It’s good,” Hermione smiled, “It’s been very quiet though. Don’t tell James or Sirius but I think Professor McGonagall misses the two of them and the chaos that they unleashed on the school. I think she half expects me to take up the mantle. But we both know such a thing would never happen. I might have enjoyed their pranks, but I’d never be able to pull one off for myself. Nor would I want to otherwise. That was always their thing.”

“I miss it too,” Lily gave her a soft smile. “I can only imagine what it must be like for you to be at school without your brother. The two of you were always close and I always loved that about him.”

“I never had a biological brother in my old life,” Hermione said softly, “I should be able to get through this year without him. But I miss him so much, Lily. I know it’s foolish. I’m still going to see him. Even though he couldn’t visit today because of Auror training, he already promised he’d visit as soon as he could. But the school feels so empty without him; without all of you.”

Lily pulled her into a hug, “I know, Sweetheart. And he loves you so much. Half the time we spend together he rants about how worried he is for you, or how proud he is of you. He’s always talking about you in some way or another. He loves you just as much as you love him. It’s just a year, and then you get to join the rest of us in the workforce, and you’ll wish you had some free time from your brother.”

“Merlin he’s never going to leave me alone, will he?” Hermione groaned, despite knowing that it would be nice to see her brother constantly once more.

“Nope,” Lily laughed. And no sooner that she did, an explosion sounded from outside the Three Broomsticks.

She quickly grabbed her wand, as she jumped up.

“Wait!” Lily said holding her back. “You can’t just run out there. You have no idea what caused the explosion! You should wait for the Aurors.”

Hermione scoffed at that, “We both know who’s out there, Lily. It’s hardly a coincidence that this is happening the same weekend that there is a Hogsmeade trip. I refuse to sit back and hide any longer. He knows who I am, and he wants me to join his side. I sat back for years and watched as he hurt innocents. I can’t let anyone else die. Not needlessly or senselessly if I have a chance to stop him.”