Disclaimer: See Chapter One.

Chapter Two - Meeting the Marauders

Slightly earlier that day, Hermione had followed Professor McGonagall up a familiar passageway. Stopping next to the Fat Lady, Hermione watched her teacher turn to her with a concerned look in her eyes. Watching her, Hermione felt a semblance of normality return; in this strange new-old place, McGonagall's stern face and severe black bun were unchanging. Before she could speak, Hermione cut her off. "It'll be okay, Professor," she said bravely. "And don't worry, I understand my role."

After discussing the various options, knowing they couldn't count on finding a method to send Hermione home any time in the recent future, they decided the best course of action would be to enroll her in classes in this time, as a transfer student from America. McGonagall, feeling an unusual amount of concern for the petite brunette, had volunteered to serve as her guardian, although they were keeping that a secret from the general public. It was just easier if the students assumed she was a normal student with a normal family.

The Head of Gryffindor looked fondly at her young charge. "If you need anything, Hermione," she started, "then--

"I know where your office is." Hermione grinned at the older woman. "Please don't worry, Professor." She turned toward the door, squaring her shoulders and straightening her back, looking for all the world like she was preparing for battle. "Let's just get this over with," she said determinedly.

McGonagall nodded in understanding and spoke to the Fat Lady. "Starlight," she said clearly, and the portrait swung open, revealing the common room. Hermione shook her head to keep the tears from her eyes; the room hadn't changed at all: the fireplace still blazed, students formed small groups, laughter and conversations rang all around her as daylight brightened the red room, bringing levity to a decor that could have been merely oppressive. The students nearest the door turned to face the duo with curious eyes. Hermione felt her cheeks flush as she studied the ground. 'So much for things being the same,' she thought wryly.

While they were standing just inside the door, waiting for Hermione to get her bearings, they were ambushed by a tiny young woman with fiery red hair and eerily familiar emerald eyes. She bustled over, her Head Girl badge shining. Beaming in welcome, she reached out and shook Hermione's hand. "I'm Lilian Evans, but please, call me Lily." She cast a fond smile at McGonagall. "I can take her from here, Professor."

McGonagall nodded, and gave Hermione's shoulder a brief squeeze before climbing back through the portrait hole. Hermione smiled timidly at the outgoing girl before her. Her only friends were Harry and Ron; she didn't really know how to relate to her own gender. "Hi," she said shyly. "Professor McGonagall said I'd be sharing your room with you; I hope it's not too much of an inconvenience."

Lily grinned broadly, her impossibly green eyes lighting up her slightly angular face. "Not at all! I think you and I will get along fine, besides," she glanced around the common room before leaning in and lowering her voice conspiratorially. "I can understand why McGonagall would rather have you in the Head Girl's room with me than in the seventh year dorm with Sandra and Stella. They're the two most abrasive gossips in the school, and you're fresh blood!" She grinned. "You'd be lucky to get to class, let alone study, with them pumping you for information and attempting makeovers at every turn." Her gamine face fell slightly as she added worriedly, "Of course, there's nothing wrong with liking that sort of thing, if you want I'm sure McGonagall wouldn't mind having you relocated--"

With a small chuckle and her first genuine smile since waking up in the Hospital Wing, Hermione held up a hand, stemming the flood of words. "Your first impression was correct," she said with a grin. "At my old school I was definitely better known for my time spent in the library than my ability to do anything with my rat's nest of hair." She added honestly, "One of my best friends was a bit of a celebrity, and after seeing him fight rumors all his life I've always hated people who have nothing better to do than talk about others."

Lily grinned, relieved. "That's great!" She ducked her head sheepishly. "In case you can't tell, I tend to talk before I think, so I apologize in advance for anything stupid I might say." She nudged the new girl's shoulder. "'Bookworm', huh? It will be fun to have a study partner; my friends would much rather talk about the newest Quidditch broom than actually crack open a book."

As if on cue, a strong tenor voice shouted "Oi!" from the corner of the room. Lily smiled resignedly and began to propel Hermione through the crowd.

"Speaking of my friends, they sound a little impatient, so we better go introduce you before they resort to a prank to get our attention." They weaved through the chairs thronging the fireplace, finally coming to the four boys sprawled lazily in the secluded corner they had obviously claimed as their own. Hermione's eyes widened in shock as Lily blithely continued, "Hermione, these are the Marauders, as they like to be known. This is Remus, Peter, James, and the mutt in the corner is Sirius." She grinned at his shout of protest, temporarily forgetting the new student who was staring at the group as if she'd seen a ghost, or in this case, three.

Hermione thought she might faint. Her eyes ran across the faces in a continuous loop. Remus--was it possible that this tall, quiet boy with the air of good humor would grow up to be Professor Lupin, ragged, tired and aged beyond his years? She tried to ignore Peter and the knowledge of the pain he would soon cause all the friends he was currently laughing with. If seeing Harry's eyes in Lily's face was strange, it had done nothing to prepare her for seeing James Potter, who could've been his alter ego. And Sirius--she wanted to cry at the thought that this beautiful boy, this sparkling personality, would become the haunted man she met four years ago in the Shrieking Shack, that he not only would face the pain of a wrongful conviction and imprisonment, but would die before getting a chance to clear his name. She was suddenly aware of the reality of the situation, that these were living and breathing people that would see a world of hurt in a few short years, if they lived that long. Eventually noticing her companion's strange silence, Lily turned to her. "Are you alright?"

Hermione dragged air into her lungs, taking deep breaths. She smiled weakly at Lily, who was looking at her in concern. "I'm fine, it's just... you guys have a lot of energy."

Lily laughed at the understatement. "I know what you mean; I guess the boys must be a bit much to take when you aren't used to them." She reached out and ruffled James's hair affectionately. "But just give them a chance, they grow on you."

"Like a fungus!" Sirius chimed in, flashing a killer grin at Hermione. He held out his hand. "Like she said, I'm Sirius Black, and if you ever need any contraband from Hogsmeade or know someone who desperately deserves a prank, you know who to call."

Hermione shook his hand, smiling into his electric blue eyes. "I'll remember that, Sirius," she said lightly. She turned to Lupin. "And you are Remus, right?"

He blushed slightly, looking at the ground. "Yes," he muttered. He looked up, giving Hermione a friendly smile, showing his slightly elongated canine teeth. "If these guys ever get too crazy for you, just let me know and I'll quiet them down." He winked at her giggles, shyness gone, and she fully believed that he was capable of calming the crowd when the need arose. "I know Lily's the best at Charms," he added impishly, "but she's terrible in Transfiguration, so if you need any help catching up, just let me know." He puffed his chest out in mock-arrogance, and Hermione laughed outright.

"Thank you, kind sir," she said facetiously. He bowed formally in response, eliciting more laughter.

"Hey, Moony, quit monopolizing the new girl!" James shouldered his way in front of Hermione, offering her his hand in a grand gesture. She shook it, taking the opportunity to study Harry's father.

If Professor Snape hated James Potter that much, it was almost understandable why he would have transferred that dislike to Harry. The outward resemblance was uncanny. James was slightly taller, his face just the slightest bit rounder (probably a result of the regular meals Harry never got from his Muggle relatives), but the messy dark hair, glasses, and mannerisms he had passed on verbatim to his son. Their personalities, however, couldn't be more different. Harry's life had forced him to grow up fast, pushing ever more responsibility on his thin shoulders, and it showed in his quiet maturity, even in the anger at his lot in life that bubbled so often just below the surface. James was born to be the center of attention, a natural ham that loved to show off. She could tell soon after meeting him that he still held onto a bit of childish arrogance, and his son's aversion of the spotlight and quiet fears in his abilities would probably strike James as incomprehensible. She shook her head slightly, thinking how sad it was that Snape never bothered to look below the surface, before pulling herself back into the present.

"...so if you ever want to learn to fly, I'd be happy to give you lessons," James was saying cheerfully. Hermione smiled inwardly; she had apparently tuned out another Quidditch lecture, what a shame!

Lily, seeing her friend's eyes glaze over as James began listing the improvements the new Shooting Star had over the old Comet series, quickly cut into the conversation. "Well, now that she's met you guys, we need to head up to the room and get settled before hitting the library to get ready for class tomorrow," she said matter-of-factly, winking at Hermione.

Hermione smiled gratefully at her as they began to head up the stairs to the girls' dorms, followed by a chorus of goodbyes. "Thanks," she whispered, "Your friends are really nice, I'm just not interested in Quidditch or flying."

Lily clapped her hand over her heart and staggered backwards. "No! You don't mean I've actually found another member of the wizarding world that thinks there are more important things than brooms and Quaffles!" She grinned. "I wouldn't mention that to the boys, though, they will just take that to mean that they need to convert you."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Don't worry, I've become expert at tuning out any sports talk."

Lily turned to her with an interested look. "So, your friends were Quidditch junkies at your old school, too?" she asked with a laugh.

Hermione shrugged uncomfortably. "Aren't all guys?" she said dryly, adding hastily, "So, let's get this room in order so we can hit the library!"

Lily grinned widely. "Now that's what I like to hear!" she exclaimed. "You are going to love the library, Hermione, it's just wonderful. Her face fell a little as she added, "Just avoid anyone wearing a Slytherin crest. Most of them aren't much for studying, but there is one guy in particular who is always there, and he doesn't like people like us much."

"People like us?" Hermione asked, frowning.

"You know, Muggle-borns," Lily explained. Seeing Hermione's face, she said quickly, "No one in the other houses really minds, so don't judge us by them!"

Hermione smiled weakly. "It's okay, I'm used to people thinking that way." She paused, "How did you know I was a Muggle-born?"

Lily winked at her. "Ah, the Head Girl knows all," she intoned in such a good impression of Trelawney that Hermione couldn't help snorting in amusement. "Anyway, let's forget all that and get to business!"

Hermione's smile faltered as she slowly followed Lily into the Head Girl's room, the same room Hermione had happily inhabited for too short an interval in her time. She was pretty sure she knew the library-inhabiting Slytherin to whom Lily was referring. She mentally shrugged; hadn't she told Professor Dumbledore that she wanted to thank Snappe--er, Severus anyway? 'Not that he will want to hear anything from me, anyway,' she reminded herself with an internal sigh. She noticed Lily giving her a strange look and gave her an utterly unconvincing smile. 'Get over yourself, Granger,' she thought sternly, and the newest member of the Class of 1976 pushed all thoughts of evil Potions teachers from her mind as she methodically unpacked the belongings McGonagall had gotten for her.

A/N: I need all the help I can get; review and help a poor clueless writer!