Over the next week, Hermione tried not to think about whether Sirius was in Hogsmeade or not – the worry associated with it was just too strong, and it left her lying awake at night, imagining all sorts of terrible things happening.

On Saturday morning, Hermione gave up even trying to concentrate on her homework, and left the others to fend for themselves for once. Ron and Harry insisted they didn't need her help, and since her head felt like the Marauders had moved in and were throwing a party (once again, the analogy made her pause for thought), she headed for the quiet solidarity of the Room of Requirement, where she lay on a sofa with an icepack on her head, amusing herself by making the room provide different things.

The surprise came at mid-morning, when she was absently considering going down to the kitchens to get something to eat, and a steaming bowl of soup appeared beside her, with a spoon and bread roll.

She and Lily stared at it for a few seconds, before Hermione shrugged and tucked in. "How did that happen?" She asked. "I know we're in the Room of Requirement, but I thought food was one of the exceptions to Gamp's Laws of Elemental Transfiguration."

"It is." Lily said slowly. "We never managed to get food to appear – Merlin knows James and Sirius tried enough times. They could eat twice their body weight and still have room for more."

Hermione chuckled. "Sounds like Ron and Harry … Well, most of the time."

They shared a sad smile – with just four days to go until the Second Task, Harry had stopped eating again. Hermione spent most of her meals trying to convince him, in between bites, to eat just a little bit.

Thankfully, Professor Sprout had indeed had some Gillyweed in the greenhouses and, after giving them a long lecture about how she was unable to help Harry or Cedric, due to the rules of the Tournament, she gave Hermione a smile and a wink, and 'accidentally' left the door open.

Hermione had been friends with Harry for long enough to be able to read between the lines – she couldn't help Harry, but there was nothing in the rules that said that Hermione couldn't, or that Hermione couldn't borrow some Gillyweed for an 'experiment'.

Trying to keep her mind off the Second Task, Hermione decided to finally ask Lily something that had been bothering her for months. "Lily … I've been having some … strange thoughts."

"Alright," Lily perched on the sofa next to her. "Boy thoughts?"

"No." Hermione frowned thoughtfully, thinking hard about how to word it. "I mean … thoughts that almost don't belong to me, except they do." She sighed. "It's hard to explain. I keep thinking things about the Marauders – like this morning, I told Harry that my head felt like they'd moved in and were throwing a party … but why would I think that? I don't know what the Marauders' parties were like! I mean, I can assume they're as bad – if not worse – than Fred and George's, but it wasn't like an assumption, it was like I know …"

"Hermione," Lily called softly. "Calm down, dear. There's a perfectly reasonable explanation."

"There is?" Hermione asked, her mind racing.

Lily nodded, her face downcast. "What do you hear around the Dementors?"

The question pulled Hermione up short, because she didn't actually know the answer. She had come into contact with the Dementors three times last year.

The first two times, on the train and at the Quidditch match, the fog of despair had been accompanied by a child screaming, flickering in and out of focus like a badly-tuned radio. But Harry's reaction had been an effective distraction and kept her from focussing on her own bad memories.

The last time, on the bank of the lake, it was different. The sheer number had overpowered her and she had passed out before she could really focus on what she was hearing.

But maybe, if she used the meditation techniques she used to control her Occlumency … just maybe she might be able to remember.

Hermione closed her eyes, allowing herself to relax and her mind to go blank. Almost immediately, she transported back to a warm night in June, but it didn't feel warm – not anymore. She could feel the foggy cold creeping into her skin, freezing her from the inside, travelling up her body into her throat until it closed, making her gasp for air. She could hear her own feeble voice, whispering the Patronus Charm, trying desperately to produce something, but she had never learnt it, and it was hopeless anyway.

The sofa beneath her seemed to disappear, replaced by the rocky shore of the lake, Sirius's cold, clammy skin beneath her fingers as she grasped his arm, unable to do anything more than collapse beside him.

Then she heard it, a man's voice, shouting – not panicked, but shouting, with the air of a man readying himself for a fight. "Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! GO! Run! I'll hold him off!"

Then the sounds of duelling filled her mind, distant, but close enough to send fear into her heart, followed by a woman giving one long, terrified scream.

In the next second, the screams had faded into words, slightly disjointed as thought parts of the memory were missing, but Hermione didn't go looking for them, not yet. She knew what the words would be before she heard them.

"Not Harry! Please not Harry! I'll do anything!"

A high, cold voice entered her mind next, an incantation she had hoped to never hear, and the fog seemed to shake around her with the force of an explosion.

And then she heard that child screaming, and with a shock she realised it was her, and tears were pouring down her face as she wrenched herself out of the memory, curling up into a ball and shaking with the force of her sobs.

A fireplace appeared in the opposite wall and came to life, the flames flickering comfortingly, as a mug of hot chocolate suddenly popped up in front of her.

Hermione picked it up with shaky hands and sipped at it, allowing the smooth, creamy liquid to slip down her throat, soothing her.

A glance at Lily told her that she was crying too, though not as much. "I was there." Hermione whispered.

Lily nodded wordlessly, wiping her face.

"Why?" Hermione asked. "We live in Crawley now, but we used to live in Yorkshire. I thought Godric's Hollow was in Wales. How would you even know my parents?"

"Your mother," Lily corrected, "was married before your father, did you know that?"

"Yes." Hermione answered, pulling a tissue from her pocket. "He was out shopping when there was a robbery and …" She stopped, staring at her. "He was killed by Death Eaters, wasn't he? But … Mum wouldn't have known … She'd have been Oblivated, wouldn't she? So you wouldn't have …"

"Hermione," Lily interrupted softly, "your mum's a witch."

Hermione stared at her for a second. She must have misheard; there was no way Lily had just said that.

But she did.

Her mother – Jane Granger, dentist, who never quite understood what Hermione was going through – was a witch.

Everything she had ever known about herself was a lie.

"I'm not Muggle-born." Hermione whispered.

"Hermione, you know as well as I do that doesn't mean a thing." Lily said. "Your blood hasn't changed; you just know that you're a half-blood now."

"How did you know her?" Hermione asked, beginning to adjust to the idea. Her first thought was that maybe her mother had been at school with Lily, but that didn't make sense – there wasn't enough time between Lily's graduation and her own birth for Jane to have married twice.

"Your half-sister was one of my dorm-mates." Lily answered.

"I have a half-sister?" Hermione asked croakily.

"Two." Lily corrected, before sighing. "Let me start from the beginning. Jane's a pureblood, who married from the Thompson family into the Princeton family. She had two daughters, Annabelle, who was in my year, and Helena, who was about twelve years younger."

"That's quite an age gap." Hermione commented, deciding that the best way to handle this information was to pretend that Lily was talking about complete strangers.

Lily nodded in agreement. "I never found out why either. You remind me of Annie sometimes – you've got the same passion about things you believe in – but you look nothing like her. Annie got her looks from her dad, and we hated her for it when the flu season came by. She always managed to look stunning …"

"What happened to her?" Hermione asked bluntly, sensing that Lily was avoiding the subject.

Lily heaved a heavy sigh. "She went home for Christmas in fifth year. As soon as she came back, we knew something was wrong. She was quiet, she was withdrawn, she was avoiding us … she was disappearing when Remus did …"

Hermione sucked in a breath, not needing Lily to finish her sentence. "She'd been bitten, hadn't she?"

Lily nodded tearfully. "We never found out what happened. She didn't transform in the Shack, and she never told us where she did – we never saw her on the full moons, even though we tried and tried to convince her otherwise. Over the summer, she seemed to shrink down to the size of a rake – she was pale and tired all the time, scrapes and scars all the way up and down her arms." She took a shuddering breath. "And then in early October, her dad took Helena for a walk in a Muggle neighbourhood – we all thought Jane was with them – there was an attack … They were in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Oh no …" Hermione whispered, doing the maths. If Helena was twelve years younger than Annabelle, she would have only been four-years-old.

"When Annabelle got the news, she screamed and passed out right there in the Great Hall." Lily sniffed. "She … She never woke up."

Somehow, the news that both of her half-sisters were dead wasn't as shocking as it should have been. "What … What did she die of?"

"Officially, it was complications arising from her lycanthropy – she never really recovered from the bite." Lily answered thickly. "But … honestly, Hermione, I don't think she wanted to live anymore."

Hermione sniffed, unable to help the tear that rolled down her cheek. When she was younger, she had wished for a sister, someone who would be her friend, unlike the children at school. Eventually, she realised that having a sister would mean someone else enduring her father's anger, something she would not wish upon anyone.

Now she found out she had two, but they had died long before she had a chance to meet them.

It wasn't fair.

"And my mother?" She asked calmly.

"Like I said, we thought Jane was dead, until about a month before my wedding." Lily smiled slightly. "We were in Muggle London, it was my final dress fitting, so we had lunch as well. It was a complete coincidence that we ran into her, but we were shocked – she was pretty far along by then."

Hermione attempted a smile. "And?"

"I invited her and her new husband to the wedding." A frown replaced Lily's smile. "It was Sirius who realised something was wrong. Jane was a Healer; she dealt with … something when he was twelve, and he'd been quite shaken by her death. From what I'd gathered, he took her aside and told her that if she needed anything, his door was always open."

Hermione's heart began thudding in her chest, anticipation filling her, although she wasn't entirely sure why.

"A week after you were born, your father hit her." Lily scowled. "I don't know whether it was the first time or not, but she dropped you off with Sirius while she went to her parents. They were quite traditional purebloods, if not supremacists – they would never risk the shame of a divorce by dissolving the marriage over domestic violence."

"But if they knew I was there …" Hermione trailed off, anger filling her. "Why didn't she take me?! He was hurting her! He's hurt me!"

"I know." Lily whispered. "I asked myself that every time, Hermione. My only answer is that she loved him too much to leave him."

"Every time?" Hermione repeated sharply. "Exactly how often did she leave me with Sirius?"

"At least twice a week." Lily said with a sad smile. "He doted on you, you know. Hell, we all did until Harry came along, no offence. But Sirius … you'd swear he was your father instead of that …" she pulled a face "… man."

Hermione didn't respond, thinking deeply. All those times, late at night, where she thought she might remember a 'dad' instead of a 'father' suddenly made sense.

She closed her eyes and dived back into her memories, trying to see how far back she could remember.

Images and pictures sped past her closed eyelids, until she was left with the mere soundtrack of her life, still slightly foggy.

It confused her, but she refused to let herself get side-tracked – at least not yet – and pushed until she could push no more.

Lily's voice filled her mind. "James … I don't feel comfortable with this."

"Alright. Well, do you want to check the wards while I put the kids to bed?"

"No! I meant the whole 'Secret Keeper' thing."

"Lily, I trust Peter …"

"I do too, James. Don't think I don't. But … he wasn't exactly acting like himself when we cast the charm, was he? Plus … he said something to me just before Dumbledore arrived … he said, "Dumbledore's explained the dangers, right?" I assumed he meant the dangers of switching Secret Keeper – you know it can carry a risk if it's not done right, it could have left us unprotected for a whole 24 hours – but what if that wasn't what he meant, what if something …?"

"Lily … Would you just calm down, alright? Dumbledore would have told us if it was anything else, and Peter was probably a bit nervous."

"I just felt so much better when Sirius was the Secret Keeper. I know it was dangerous, but …"

"Well, I think the switch is a good idea, but if it makes you feel better, sweetheart, we'll talk to Albus about switching back first thing tomorrow morning. Alright?"

Hermione paused the memory, relishing in the control she had over her own mind. So Lily had doubts about Peter. And, more importantly, it sounded as though Dumbledore had known about the switch.

But then, if that were true, why would he tell the Ministry that Sirius was the Secret Keeper?

In any case, it seemed that her memories before that Halloween were, as yet, unreachable, so she sighed inwardly and began to fast-forward again, trying to work out where the fog came from.

It can't have been simply time, because there was no gradual change – images one minute, just sound the next.

The explosion from before caught her attention and she stopped, morbidly curious about what happened next. She assumed that what she'd heard was the Killing Curse backfiring, and wondered how the blast hadn't just killed both of them.

Her own cries echoed around her head, echoing in the silence of the memory. She wondered how none of the neighbours had heard an explosion that loud, but maybe it was part of the wards around the house.

Then, she heard a noise under her wails, a deep rumbling sound, like an engine. It cut off abruptly, and then there were footsteps downstairs.

Her cries became quieter, though no less intense, until a familiar voice floated up the stairs, desperation lacing his tone.

"James! It's Padfoot – answer me, mate!"

"DADDY!"

Hermione gasped at her own terrified, blood-curdling scream and, too shocked even to pull herself out of her mind, listened as footsteps hurtled up a staircase, and the ice-cold fog changed to a warm, almost familiar cloud that enveloped her.

"It's alright, baby-girl. It's okay, Kitten. Daddy's here, it's alright."

Finally pulling herself together, Hermione forced herself to fast-forward one more time. She already had an inkling about what had happened, and it somehow came as no surprise to her when she heard her mother's voice.

"I'm sorry, darling. Obliviate!"

Hermione opened her eyes again, staring at the wall of the Room of Requirement. "I used to call him Daddy."

"You did." Lily confirmed, her eyes worried. "Never in front of your mother though. You called him Padfoot then."

"And you?" Hermione asked.

Lily smiled slightly. "I was Aunt Lily."

Hermione nodded once, trying to organise her thoughts. "Alright, Aunt Lily, I have some questions."

"I might have some answers." Lily said teasingly. "Go ahead."

"My mother wiped my memory." Hermione said. "But I could still vaguely remember … a dad … if I thought very hard …"

"A memory charm doesn't affect the subconscious memory." Lily explained. "Since very few people can access or, indeed, listen to the subconscious memory, it's never been a problem."

"That's what the Dementors reached last June." Hermione murmured, running a hand through her hair. "That's why the sound flickered. But I can remember now." She said aloud. "Why?"

Lily looked thoughtful. "Something must have happened over the summer." She said finally. "All Memory Charms have a trigger to unlock them. Sirius's visit maybe?"

"No, if he was the trigger, it would have unlocked in June." Hermione said slowly, trying to remember when these flashes of thought first started.

It was the day the Weasleys came to pick me up … I'd just finished packing … I found …

"Sirius's badge." She finished aloud. "I found his auror badge."

Lily looked startled for a second, then smiled. "He took you home." She guessed. "Your father was on a business trip for the next week, so Sirius took you home while he went after Peter."

"That must have been the trigger." Hermione whispered. "And the Memory Charm explains why my empathy took so long to make itself known – without conscious knowledge of magic, I did less accidental magic, which meant that my body needed the time to readjust."

"Not just your body." Lily corrected. "Your magical core would have needed it as well."

Hermione nodded slowly. "And Dumbledore? It sounded like he knew about the switch … I heard you talking to James …"

"He knew." Lily said coolly. "He cast the charm. I don't know what he's playing at, Hermione, but can I ask that you keep this to yourself for the time being? Whatever game Dumbledore's playing, I don't want Harry – or Sirius – involved until they know all the rules, or until Remus is there to keep them from fouling. Please?"

Hermione sighed, nodding reluctantly. It seemed unfair, but she also knew it made sense. "Alright, I won't say anything."

"Thank you." Lily looked at her with tears in her eyes. "I really am sorry you got mixed up in that, Hermione, but Sirius got called into work and he couldn't just leave you alone. If I'd known …"

"If you'd known, you and Harry wouldn't have been there either." Hermione reminded her kindly. "It's not your fault." She was silent for a few seconds, thinking. If her father was on a business trip, why was she with Sirius? Why wouldn't he just drop her home?

"Lily …"

But before she could finish, James materialised in front of them with a knowing smirk on his face. "Guess what I found!"

"Your dignity?" Lily guessed with a sweet smile. "Your maturity? Your self-respect? My self-respect?"

James sighed, looking put-out. "Alright, guess who I found then."

Hermione groaned, her worries coming back full-force. "He's in Hogsmeade, isn't he?"

Lily gasped. "Sirius? Of all the … I mean, I'm glad he's … But what if …?" She sighed, and sat down, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Hermione, can you go and make sure he's alright? Please?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Let me get this straight. You're encouraging me to sneak out?"

Lily smiled at her. "Oh, Hermione … I was a Marauder, remember?"

Hermione chuckled. "Alright, where is he?"

"I'll show you." James offered. "But don't tell Harry. As hypocritical as it sounds, I don't want him sneaking out, not while we don't know who put his name in that Goblet or where they are now."

"Neither do I." Hermione agreed, stretching as she stood up. "Assuming I can get hold of his Invisibility Cloak without him finding out why."

As it turned out, Harry was so busy with his Potions essay that procuring his Cloak was frighteningly easy, although giving it back might be a bit awkward, since Hermione wasn't entirely sure he had heard her ask for it.

After a quick trip to the kitchens, in which she packed as much food into her bag as was magically possible – which was quite a lot – she snuck out through the humped witch on the third floor.

Getting into the Honeydukes cellar and out past the counter wasn't easy, but she managed to keep the Cloak on, and slipped out of the door with another customer.

She followed James in silence as he reminisced about times in Hogsmeade, but her own thoughts were in turmoil. She hadn't been expecting to tell Sirius about James and Lily this soon, and after this morning, the situation was even more complicated.

James led her right to the end of the road, past Dervish and Banges, to a style that led to a rocky path up into the mountains.

Hermione climbed awkwardly over the stile and began to hike, all the while trying to keep the Cloak from slipping. Finally, she stopped and looked back.

The cottages – just losing their snowy rooftops – looked almost like doll's houses now, and she decided she was far enough away to remove the Cloak, fold it carefully, and slip it into her bag.

"Is it much further?" She asked quietly.

"Not far." James told her. "There's a cave just up here."

Wearily, Hermione continued her climb, muttering under her breath about reckless Marauders who took stupid risks. She was, of course, stubbornly ignoring the fact that she'd sleep in a cave too if Harry was in danger …

"Up there." James told her, pointing to a spot a good fifteen feet above her head.

Hermione stopped and tilted her head back, seeing an opening in the rock just big enough to hide a decent-sized cave. "Sirius?" She called softly. "It's Hermione. I brought food."

Footsteps sounded above her and Sirius peered over the edge. "Hermione, what the hell are you doing here?"

"A 'hello' would have been nice." Hermione said dryly. "How am I supposed to get up there?"

Sirius smirked at her. "Well, I turn into Padfoot and jump. Hold on, I'll come down and …"

"Don't bother." Hermione transformed, picked the bag up in her mouth, and jumped neatly up to stand beside him. She stretched, rather enjoying the look of stunned shock on his face, before dropping the bag again and turning human once more. "That was probably easier, right?"

Sirius gaped at her. "What … How … You …"

Hermione nodded. "Thanks, Padfoot; that made a lot of sense." She slipped past him, her eyes travelling over the sleeping bag in the corner – at least he had the sense to transfigure something – to Buckbeak at the back of the cave.

She made eye-contact and bowed slowly, waiting for him to bow back before patting his feathery neck and stroking his beak. "Hey, Beaky. Are you looking after him for me?"

Buckbeak squawked in a reassuring sort of way and ruffled his feathers, and Hermione turned to survey Sirius, who was still staring at her in shock. He didn't look as gaunt as his had done in the summer, but he was still painfully thin.

"Let's start again, shall we?" She asked, smiling. "Hi Sirius!"

Sirius finally cracked a smile and moved forward to hug her. "Hello Hermione. When did you do that?"

"It's a long story." Hermione murmured into his robes. "And one for another day. I can't be out here too long, so I need to focus on the important bits."

"That's not important?" Sirius asked incredulously, releasing her.

"Well, it is." Hermione conceded. "But it's not as important as the rest. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what?" Sirius asked slowly.

"Oh, I don't know." Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "The fact that Mum's a witch? The fact that I've known Harry since he was born? The fact that I used to call you Dad? Any of those would have been a good start."

"Hermione," James chided gently, "I know you're upset, but watch the tone please."

"I'm not upset." Hermione disagreed, half to James, half to Sirius. "I just want to know why you didn't want me to know. One father thinking I'm not good enough is enough, thanks." Her voice broke on the last work and she found herself swept into his arms again.

"Hermione, that's not why." He whispered. "That could never be why. I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I just wasn't sure you'd believe me. And you were far too upset over the summer to throw that in as well."

"It would have made me feel better." Hermione said plaintively, aware that she sounded like a child.

Sirius stroked her hair softly. "I'm sorry. You and Harry kept me sane in there. I couldn't stand the thought of you hating me – it was just a little too soon after Harry …"

"Why would I hate you?" Hermione interrupted, bewildered. "It's not your fault you weren't there. You didn't ask to be arrested."

But Sirius shook his head, looking pained, and she could practically taste his regret in the air. "Hermione, I promised you wouldn't have to go back there. And you did."

"Right." Hermione nodded. "Because you couldn't take a baby on a rat-hunt."

Sirius froze, and she didn't need her infamous brains or her empathy to know that something had startled him – and not in a good way. "What?"

"You took me back to Mum after Hagrid took Harry." Hermione said slowly. "Because you couldn't take a baby on a rat-hunt. It makes sense."

"Hermione … you weren't there." Sirius said, his eyes pleading with her to agree.

"I was." Hermione stated reluctantly. "I could remember. Around the Dementors last summer. I only just really remembered, because Mum put a Memory Charm on me and it's been breaking since July. But I was there – I'm a natural Occlumens; I know what I'm hearing."

Sirius buried his face in his hands and Hermione propelled him to a rock where they could sit down. She glanced up at James, who was watching them sadly.

"Not much you can do," he told her softly, as Lily appeared beside him. "Just wait it out."

Hermione rested her head on his shoulder, hearing his murmured apologies. "Sirius, I'm fine." She whispered. "We both are. Yeah, my father's a dick, but I made my peace with that a long time ago."

Sirius raised his head, looking anguished. "Hermione, you shouldn't have to accept that your dad's a …"

"He's not." Hermione interrupted, briskly. "My father is. Now would you eat something?"

Sirius smiled weakly, hearing her unspoken words, and took the food parcel she handed him. "Thanks, sweetheart; you're a lifesaver. Have I told you that?"

"A few times, yes." Hermione shifted so she was leaning against the wall of the cave, observing him serenely. "You want the other important conversation now?"

"Is it anything like the other one?" Sirius asked, gnawing at a chicken leg. "Because I don't think I can handle two of those in one day."

Hermione thought for a second. "It's about as emotional, but it's all good news. Ish."

Sirius sighed. "Alright, hit me."

Hermione pulled her bag onto her lap and rooted through it until she found the transcript of their conversation by the lake. "Okay," she began, holding it to her chest.

"You know I'm an empath. You know the theory about the spirits, right?"

"I do." Sirius looked at her quizzically. "Is it true?"

"Yeah, and there's been a couple of spirits hanging around since just before Halloween." Hermione said, glancing over to James and Lily. "They were the ones who told me you were up here."

"Do their … bodies know?" Sirius asked worriedly.

"No." Hermione smiled. "Even if they did, it wouldn't be the end of the world – they know you're innocent." She took a deep breath, making sure her empathy was fully contained. "James and Lily Potter aren't dead; they're stuck."

"Stuck." Sirius repeated blankly.

Hermione nodded. "On an island. In an undetermined location."

"Hold on." Sirius rubbed his head. "How are they not dead, Hermione? I was the first to arrive, remember …"

"And you never found their bodies." Hermione finished. "So how do you know they are?"

"Because … Hermione, James and Lily would never have left Harry." Sirius argued. "Or you."

"Not willingly." Hermione agreed. "But Harry never hears the Killing Curse around the Dementors. I do, but only once, when it's aimed at Harry. They were hit by a non-verbal transportation spell that gives off the same green light as the Killing Curse."

Sirius was silent for a few minutes. "I want to believe you, Hermione; I do."

"I used a dicta-quill for the first conversation, so that Harry could follow it." Hermione offered, folding the parchment in her hands so just the first few lines were visible. "See?" She held it out, keeping a firm hold of it. "I'm not crazy and I'm not lying."

"I didn't say you were either." Sirius pointed out.

"Well, I'm either telling the truth, or I'm lying, or I'm crazy." Hermione smiled. "If I'm not the last two, by default, I'm telling the truth."

Sirius grinned at her. "Excellent point. Beginning of sixth year, after they started dating, James had a quiet word with me. We never spoke of it to anyone else. What did he say?"

Hermione looked over at James, who grinned as well. "That I didn't know whether to hug him or hit him, and that he should try funnelling some of those matchmaking skills into his own love-life."

"It's amazing how similar you two look when you smile." Hermione commented. "Must be a Marauder thing. He told you he didn't know whether to hug you or hit you and that you should try funnelling some of those matchmaking skills into your own love-life."

Sirius stared at her for a second. "They're alive."

"Keep going, Hermione." Lily said softly.

Hermione unfolded the parchment and flattened it. "Thing is, Padfoot, they're not alone out there."

Sirius looked up sharply. "Death Eaters?"

"No." Hermione said with a smile. "Addie and Leona are with them."

Instantly, she was hit with a barrage of emotion so strong that it took all of her efforts to keep a smile on her face.

Sirius had closed his eyes. "Is she … Are they alright?"

Hermione glanced at Lily, who nodded hurriedly. "They're both fine."

"They're fine." Hermione repeated.

Sirius opened his eyes, and Hermione didn't need to be an empath to know what he was thinking. He looked like he had just been let off a death-sentence. "But … I saw their bodies …"

"It's a …" Hermione sighed. "Here." She handed him the parchment. "Lily and James explained everything."

Sirius took the transcript with a shaking hand, and Hermione moved to talk to Buckbeak, giving him some privacy. She watched him out of the corner of her eye, an occasional smirk or grimace telling her where he was.

Finally, he chuckled, wiping his eyes. "I guess they want me to stop blaming myself."
"Good guess." Hermione said lightly, crossing the cave and hugging him again. "Are you alright?"

"Never better." Sirius kissed her forehead. "Thank you."

Hermione didn't bother asking why he was thanking her, and she sat down on the rock again, giving him a stern look. "I thought I told you to eat."

"And it's good advice." Sirius conceded, pulling some more chicken from the bag. "I've been living off rats mostly."

Hermione grimaced, wrinkling her nose. "Pretend they're Wormtail."

"Oh, believe me, I have been." Sirius said with a vicious smirk. "You look like Annie when you do that. How was the Yule Ball? We had a Ball in seventh year, you know."

"I know." Hermione said. "Lily told me."

"Of course she did." Sirius rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Who'd Harry end up going with?"

"Ginny." Hermione answered. "You know, Ron's little sister. Just as friends. I suggested that it would be easier to take someone he was familiar with, rather than add the pressure of a date."

"That's better advice than what I gave him." Sirius admitted.

"What did you tell him?" Hermione asked curiously.

Sirius shrugged. "Not good advice, let's put it that way."

Lily narrowed her eyes. "Hermione, what did he mean by that?"

Hermione sighed. "Lily wants me to make sure that you're not corrupting her son."

"I didn't say that." Lily pointed out.

"No, but you meant it."

Sirius chuckled. "You know how odd that is?" He looked over to where he thought Lily might be, about ten feet away from where she actually was. "Don't worry, Lils; I told him that he wasn't going near the opposite sex until he's fifty."

Lily sniggered. "Well, that's alright then."

"She's happy with that." Hermione concluded.

"So who did you go with?" Sirius asked.

Hermione smiled. "Viktor Krum."

"The Durmstrang champion?" Sirius asked, sounding surprised.

Hermione nodded. "Just as friends. He's got a girlfriend back in Bulgaria, and I know he's Harry's competition, and that I probably shouldn't trust him, but …"

"Hermione," Sirius interrupted, "you're an empath. He couldn't lie to you. And I have no right to just turn up and start pulling the overprotective act."

Hermione smirked. "But you're doing it anyway."

Sirius winced. "Just be careful, that's all I'm saying. I knew a few boys back when I was in Hogwarts who used the "I've got a girlfriend and I just want to be friends" line. You don't worry as much, because you don't think you need to. I'm not saying that that the only reason he would want to be with you is a sinister one. I'm just saying to be careful; he is, what, four years older than you." He paused. "Are Harry and Ron worried?"

"No." Hermione sighed. "Well, Harry isn't. Ron has been acting like a complete git since September. To be honest, he's got the emotional range of a teaspoon, so I'm not too worried, but he completely blew up in my face after the Ball."

"Was it that bad?" Sirius asked cautiously.

Hermione shrugged. "I think he's just looking out for me. But so was Harry and he didn't manage to imply that no one would ever date me unless they wanted information on him."

"Hermione …" Sirius sighed, threw an arm around her shoulder, and pulled her into a hug. "Don't listen to him. You are an intelligent, attractive young woman and if those boys can't see that then you don't need them."

Hermione smiled into his shoulder. "You're enjoying the advice thing, aren't you?"

Sirius grinned. "Well, I don't often get to be the wise elder."

"You're still not." Hermione quipped.

"Oi!" Sirius protested, but he was smiling. "There's the Marauder sense of humour."

"She's got the smirk down as well." Lily commented. "Just like yours."

"Lily says I've got the smirk as well." Hermione repeated.

"You do." Sirius agreed. "Harry and Ron are a bad influence on you."

Hermione shrugged. "They do try."

On Monday evening, the Common Room was filled with an anticipatory buzz. Tomorrow morning, they would journey down to the lakeside for the Second Task.

Hermione couldn't help feeling that the organisers hadn't really thought this Task through, from a Tournament perspective.

The First Task was all very well, but what was the point of having spectators for this one? Unless they had found some way of recreating Muggle underwater video cameras, and set up a live-feed (given how clueless most wizards were of Muggle technology, it seemed unlikely), all they would be doing was staring at a lake for an hour.

"How are you feeling?" Ginny asked Harry quietly.

"Honestly?" Harry shrugged. "Like someone's reached down my throat, grabbed my small intestines, pulled them out of my mouth and tied them around my neck."

"Chocolate Frog?" Ron asked blandly, offering him the box.

"Ron, don't be a prat." Hermione said tiredly, not even bothering to glare at him. "You'll be fine, Harry. You've got the Gillyweed, you know what you're doing … Just keep focussing on Saturday."

Upon returning the Cloak, she had told Harry about Sirius and that he knew about James and Lily now, and the four were planning to visit him whilst in Hogsmeade that weekend.

The one thing Hermione hadn't mentioned was her other connection with the Marauders. She would tell Harry, once she had managed to get her head around it, and when his attention wasn't solely taken by the Second Task.

Harry nodded, attempting a smile, but failing miserably. "Any last words of advice?"

"Whatever the song says," Ginny said quietly, "Dumbledore won't let anything happen to whatever's been taken. Don't do anything stupid. Just get in, grab whatever it is, and get out."

"Billy, don't be a hero." Hermione agreed with a smile.

"Er, Hermione?" Ron asked, looking like he feared for her sanity. "That's Harry, remember? Not Billy."

Harry finally cracked a smile. "It's a Muggle reference, Ron."

No one paid any attention to the portrait hole swinging open, until the room went quiet, whereupon they looked up to see Professor McGonagall.

"Mr Weasley, Miss Granger," she called over the students, "if you could come with me please. Mr Ron Weasley," she corrected, when Fred and George made to stand as well.

"Is there a problem, Professor?" Hermione asked curiously.

"You won't need your things, Miss Granger." Professor McGonagall told her, causing her to drop her bag. "You're not in any trouble. Come along, quickly."

Ron and Hermione glanced at each other, said goodbye to the others, and followed Professor McGonagall out of the portrait hole.

They walked in silence, but the two Lions could tell that their Head of House was worried about something. Her movements were stiffer than usual, and when they reached the entrance to Professor Dumbledore's office, she stopped and spoke to them in a low voice.

"Now I want you to remember that this is a request, not a demand. If either of you want to decline, I urge that you do so. Do you understand?"

For once, Hermione didn't understand at all and, looking at Ron, it was clear he didn't either. Nevertheless they nodded, and she gave the password to the gargoyle, who jumped aside.

"Go on." Professor McGonagall told them, sounding more like herself again. "He's waiting."

Hermione stepped onto the spiral staircase, letting it carry her up to the big oak doors, Ron standing just behind her. Neither of them had been in Professor Dumbledore's office before, but Harry had told them it was quite a sight to behold.

Hermione took a deep breath, and knocked sharply on the door, just above the gleaming gold plate reading Headmaster Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.

"Come in."

They pushed the door open to see Professor Dumbledore sitting behind his desk, talking to Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime. Sitting on one of the sofas behind them were Cho Chang and a young girl of about eight, with silvery blonde hair and the same blue eyes as Fleur.

Both girls had very pale, yet very determined faces and, as all eyes in the room turned to fall on her and Ron, Hermione felt her heart stop.

We've taken what you'll sorely miss …