Chapter 44- The Mother

They stood in Dumbledore's office the following morning.

Professor McGonagall had collected them straight after breakfast, which had been a tired and tense affair. No one had really seemed to know how to react and so, the school had eaten in silence, with the odd half-hearted murmur. When their Head of House had come to collect them, Hermione had felt her heart sink to the bottom of her stomach.

It sank even lower as she had marched the five of them along corridor after corridor to finally reach Dumbledore's office. James had noticed. He'd twigged on about the fourth corridor and had slipped his hand into hers. Hermione found it a comforting reminder- she knew what the gesture meant: you're not alone in this.

"As you are all no doubt aware," Dumbledore said, eyes raking across all of them. He was sat behind his desk, fingers interlocked. They stood solemnly. "Last night, Hogwarts hosted an attack from Lord Voldemort."

Peter squeaked. James' hand tightened in hers. Sirius went a deathly pallor. The office was silent, and not even Fawkes seemed brave enough to break it.

"I cannot let you stay here, under the... special circumstances apparent. Therefore, the only logical thing for me to do is to send you all home a week early for the holidays," Dumbledore continued. Hermione froze, but it had the opposite effect on her friends. James visibly melted, his worry slipping away from him; she almost felt the whoosh of relief in the air. "You'll be staying with the Potters' until this next week is over. I have already discussed the arrangement and they know not to let you leave, unsupervised, before then. This is for your own safety. Do I make myself clear?"

Hermione couldn't bring herself to look at him. She felt sick. Could Dumbledore truly not see how transparent he was? She knew exactly what he was doing and his twinkling blue eyes bored into her. Did he really think that she couldn't see what he was doing, why he was doing it? If he thought he could lock her up, under the guise of protection, whilst he crafted his own little plan against Voldemort, then he was deeply underestimating her.

Hermione Granger was not someone to be underestimated.

Remus didn't really say anything, just stared at their Headmaster, that little frown of puzzlement creasing his face.

James asked incredulously, "You're putting me on house arrest in my own house?"

Dumbledore said, "It's not house arrest, Mr Potter. It's for your protection."

"Is this about Hermione?" Peter asked, his voice small. They all looked at him.

He appeared washed out and the bandage covering his eye slipped down to reveal the scratches. She wondered whether he always looked this weary... But she found she couldn't remember. He shoved it back up. "The message from-" Hermione swallowed, watching his tongue struggle with the name. Finally, he choked, "You-Know-Who. It was for Hermione wasn't it? He knows she's from the future."

Something rippled across the five of them, like some sort of deeper understanding. It was always Peter who clicked before anyone else. Remus understood strategy, but Peter understood people.

It was part of the reason they were all friends, you never had to explain yourself to him, he just got it.

"That's why you're sending us away," Remus realised. "Because we're the only people who know about her."

Dumbledore ducked his head in a small nod.

"As far as anyone is concerned, you returned home to see your parents," he continued, changing the subject. "Sirius and James' mother took regretfully ill overnight and they were alerted right away. Remus' aunt died of Measles and poor Peter did not want to be left alone, so I granted his early departure." Dumbledore looked at her. "I hope you understand, Miss Granger, that your safety is my priority at this moment in time. It will not be forever, but Hogwarts has been infiltrated." His voice was heavy and sad when he said finally, "I'm afraid our home is no longer safe."

oOoOoOo

The floo power felt heavy in her hand.

Dumbledore had directed them to Professor McGonagall's office with a bid of farewell, telling them that they were to leave immediately using her fireplace. He had lifted the wards but would reinforce them once they had gone.

So the five of them stood alone in the small office, sifting floo power through their fingers.

"I can't believe we're going home," Sirius said, staring at the grate.

"It's not what he says though," Remus replied, his knuckle tracing the shape of his lips. "There's something more to it, something he's not telling us."

Hermione couldn't tear her attention away from the floo power, cupped in both of her hands. Her throat felt unbelievably tight. "There is."

She felt their eyes drag to her.

James frowned, "What?"

Swallowing, Hermione finally looked at them all. Indecision was heavy in her, but she had to tell them. They were her best friends, the only people she had in this time. She said, "Dumbledore thinks… that there's someone on the inside."

The effect was instantaneous. Peter shrank away, James' frown deepened, Sirius' head shot to her.

"Someone on the inside? Like an undercover man?" Remus questioned.

"Like a spy," she nodded. "Like a Death Eater."

Sirius shook his head furiously, stalking away. "I bet it's Snape. Godric knows that little snake is dancing with the devil!"

James moved over to his pacing friend, placing a hand on his shoulder. Sirius visibly relaxed as soon as James touched him. He said, "Why? Why would he think that?"

Hermione's eyes flicked to the door. She heard a click. When she turned back to her boys, Remus had his wand out. He nodded at her.

"The spell that was used was one that Dumbledore had seen before. Apparently, it needed a vessel. Someone to actually carry it around and unleash it," Hermione said. "That means that there's got to be someone in Hogwarts."

"Not necessarily," James said. "Surely You-Know-Who could've planted it?"

"No," Hermione said, feeling her throat clench up. "The vessel has to give consent."

There was a moment where the four of them absorbed this.

Peter asked timidly, "Does Dumbledore know who it is?"

He looked even more distraught than when she had seen him at the ball, with pale and waxy skin, almost like he had been drained. Dark smudges framed his face. His eyes seemed to glow in the shadows of the night.

Hermione couldn't help but feel concern gnaw at her. "Are you sure you're okay?" She pressed, moving towards him.

"I'm fine!" He snapped. She stopped. Then, in a gentler voice, he said, "Just dandy."

She shook her head, clearing her throat loudly. "We should probably go now. Dumbledore won't give us very long before he puts up the wards."

In silent agreement, they all gathered around the stone fireplace, feeling equal parts happy and sad. The heaviness of betrayal lay active in their bones, and yet they couldn't escape the relief that leaving school evoked. James scooped some floo powder out of the bowl and said, "I'll go first, best warn them of the riffraff to follow."

He stepped into the grate, grin wide and youth-splattered. His eyes were positively sparkling. "See you on the other side," he said and proclaimed, "Potter Manor."

The flash of light was brilliant and James was immersed in the flames.

"You should go next, Mione," Sirius said. "So you don't get lost. I'll follow you."

She nodded, stepping into the grate. It wasn't the first time she had ever used floo power, although it was most certainly not her preferred method of travel. Much like broomsticks, she wasn't overly fond of being sucked through space. Come to think of it, she had never liked planes much either.

Hermione clenched the powder in her fist, smiled once at Peter, who was watching her nervously, before announcing, (and making sure to properly annunciate her 'P'), "Potter Manor!"

The light engulfed her whole. It was such a strange experience, like apparating, but bumpier. The journey wasn't very long, as the network had already connected to the Potter household as a result of James' travel.

Hermione rolled out of a grate in no time, spluttering and wafting the black soot from the air. She clambered to her feet, shoving her hair from her face and looked around.

The kitchen was quaint but grand. With high ceilings and windows that let all the sunlight pour into the room, it was encompassed in golden brick. A long table stretched down the centre, with a vase of yellow flowers resting on its surface, and beside the fireplace, which she had just stepped out of, was a bottle green leather chair. Dotted around were picture frames and personal knickknacks, and Hermione let her eyes follow their trail; there was a photograph of a small James zooming about on a toy broomstick, and another of a kind-looking woman holding a baby, and another of Sirius, beaming and bursting with happiness and pride, with an older man's arm around his shoulders.

Hermione felt herself smile softly.

The fireplace coughed, and an equally choked Sirius stumbled from the ash. He thumped his chest. His face lit up when he saw her and he said, "Glad to see you didn't get lost, poppet!"

"You are not on house arrest, James," an exasperated voice echoed from nearby. Indistinguishable murmurs followed, but Hermione couldn't properly hear them. Both she and Sirius stared at the door. An older woman, in her late forties, bustled into the kitchen, wearing a flowery white dress. Her dark hair was streaked with grey and she had petals woven into her braid.

"James, I don't know what kind of woman you take me for, but this is hardly necessary," she was saying. Her voice was rich and lulling, and gave the impression of both knowledge and wealth. "I'm not going to hassle your new friend!"

She paused in the kitchen, catching sight of Hermione.

Hermione smiled.

The lady immediately beamed, flying over and embracing her as though she was her own daughter. Hermione felt herself falter a little bit... She had forgotten what a mother's touch felt like.

"You must be Hermione!" She said, stepping back. Her hands cupped her shoulders still. The older woman's face was ripe as she smiled at her. "I've heard so much about you. All James does in his letters is gush about you! I was beginning to think he'd moved on from Lily!"

James coughed awkwardly from behind her. "Mum..."

Mrs Potter's lips curled in a small smirk.

"I don't think he's ever going to move on from Lily," Sirius said, grinning.

Her eyes trailed past Hermione and softened.

"My baby!" She beamed, reaching out for Sirius. As soon as she wrapped her arms around him, he seemed to melt, collapse, into her. Hermione felt like she was watching something far too intimate and thought she should probably look away. Mrs Potter held the back of Sirius' head and his chin rested on her shoulder. He had to bend down quite a bit and his eyes were closed in blissful contentment.

She pulled away, cupping his cheeks in her hands and said, "I hope you've been behaving."

Sirius flashed her a dazzling smile. "Of course."

The fireplace stuttered once more and Peter rolled out onto the wooden floor, grappling with his bandage. He scrambled to his feet. His blonde hair was laced with soot, and his cheeks were pink. His wide eyes caught Hermione's and he shook his head wildly, grinning. She snorted.

"Peter! Oh my, what have you done?" Mrs Potter asked, touching his bandage gently. "Come here, let me sort that out for you."

Her long fingers lifted the bandage out of the way, and she touched the scars. Hermione watched in awe as the scratches simply disappeared.

"Ma trained to be a Healer," said Sirius, who had come to stand by her side.

Peter grinned, reaching up to touch the smooth skin of his forehead. "Thanks Mrs P!"

One final time, the fireplace coughed and wretched and out tumbled a dazed-looking Remus.

"Remus, dear, so nice of you to join us!" Mrs Potter smiled at him.

He blinked and said, "Hello ma'am."

She turned to look at the five of them, and said, "I've prepared a bedroom for each of you. I'm sure James or Sirius will give you a tour of the house, Hermione. I've raised them to be chivalrous after all." Hermione caught James' eye and he winked at her. "Off you go now. And please remember, Hermione... this is home."

Hermione stared at Mrs Potter, devouring her earnest eyes and loving smile and she tasted the word home. She had not had one of those in a long time.

oOoOoOo

Later that night, after a tour of the house (it had turned out to be just as homely and grand as the kitchen) and a three course meal where Remus had practically exploded in delight at the amount of chocolate there was in the pudding, they had let their tiredness catch up with them.

The five of them sat in the living room, wrapped in blankets and warming themselves up in front of the sizzling fire.

Hermione, with her stomach full and her heart light, could not remember ever feeling this content.

"It's good to be home," Sirius said, scratching his chin. He had had a small smile on his face ever since they had first arrived, and his eyes looked happier than ever.

"Yeah..." James agreed, but he didn't look particularly enthusiastic.

Remus picked up on this. He raised an eyebrow and said, "Please. Don't be too happy, Prongs, it's tiring."

James shot him a look.

"What's wrong?" Pete asked, frowning. He had a mug of hot chocolate gripped between his small hands, sitting beside Hermione on the settee. Their legs were interlocked, and the blanket was draped over the both of them. He was resting his cup on her calf.

"Nothing," James replied. Remus coughed. "Honestly! It's just- what's Lily going to think? I mean, I just had the best night of my life and I haven't even spoken to her about it..."

Hermione remembered the way he had looked at her last night, under the ice and singing nymphs. She said, "You're scared she's going to go back to Bernie."

James didn't look at her, he just shrugged. Sirius stared at his friend sharply.

"She wouldn't," he said swiftly, a certain confidence in his voice.

Nobody said anything for a second.

"You know what's annoying though?" James mumbled. "He's a really nice bloke-"

"Nice bloke?" Sirius repeated incredulously. "He tried to take my head off with that plate!"

"He attacked you with a plate?" Hermione asked, dubious.

Sirius looked at her with his eyebrows raised and said, "Yes, I don't think he was too pleased about the silk."

He gestured theatrically to his chest.

"Or the fact you tried to decapitate him first at the Quidditch match," Remus said sarcastically.

Sirius spluttered, offended, but in the end, he had no valid argument so he closed his mouth and allowed James to continue.

"No, but I mean, decent, good intentions, the whole shebang."

There was a sad resignation to his voice, as if he knew he had just lost the single greatest thing in his life, and it was probably the best thing for her.

Hermione felt her heart fall through her chest.

"Except one thing," Peter said.

They all looked at him.

"And what's that?"

Pete shrugged and said matter-of-factly, "He's not you."

Hermione felt herself falter. As strange as it sounded, Peter was right. It was and had and would only ever be James and Lily. There was nothing else to it.

James stared at his friend, speechless. He swallowed, smiled slightly and said, "Thanks Pete."

Peter just shrugged bashfully. The fire crackled in the hearth, and the room was absorbed in a comfortable quiet. Hermione shuffled in her seat and Pete lifted his legs up to let her adjust her position; she laughed at his expression as he tried to keep his drink in the cup. When she got comfy, he rested his limbs over the top of hers, and flashed her a smile.

"Remus?" James questioned suddenly.

Hermione looked at him. Remus was frowning, his eyebrows pulled together in a tight knit. His knuckle traced the outline of his lips; a sure sign that his mind was whirring.

"What are you thinking?" She asked gently.

He raised his eyes to her. "Why would Dumbledore remove you from the school?"

Sirius sighed laboriously. "I thought we'd discussed this?"

Remus sat up and stressed, "Yes, but it makes no sense. If he wanted to protect you and hide your identity, why would he send you away, and by extension all of us?"

"What are you getting at, Moony?" said Sirius, shaking his head.

Remus tore his eyes away from her to look at the others. He said, "I'm saying if Dumbledore thinks that there's an inside-man, why would he send Hermione away?" He licked his lips nervously. "There's no logic to it! Sending her away wouldn't secure her secret-"

"It would out it," Hermione finished for him. He stared at her.

"Exactly."

Peter was watching them all, his puzzlement leaking out of him. "I don't understand," he said. "What does that mean?"

There was muted horror clear on James' face as he said, "Dumbledore put a big red marker above Hermione's head by sending her away. It means that whoever's on the inside... They'll know it's her."

This revelation was pungent in the air, and it seemed to resonate within their bones. Eyes wide, Peter looked at them all. He said quietly, "Why would he do that?"

Hermione clenched her jaw. She said, "Because he doesn't want me in his way."

"In his way?" Remus asked, alarmed. "Hermione what are you talking about?"

"He wants to defeat Voldemort," she explained. "But he doesn't want my help. He doesn't want me to change the timeline. He can't risk it."

"Well why's that such a bad thing?" Peter questioned. His face was screwed up in concentration as he tried to understand. She felt herself tremble.

"Because if I don't change the timeline," Hermione breathed, the truth weighing her down, burning her tongue, but it was unavoidable. She couldn't lie to them. This was their future... "You all die."

There was a deathly silence, so deathly Hermione swore she could hear her heart thudding on the air.

"Why-" Sirius began faintly before breaking off, closing his eyes. "Why would Dumbledore let us die? I don't… why would he want that?"

There was something unsure in his voice, something very young and vulnerable. She looked at James, to find him fading away. "He doesn't want it. He just doesn't want to change the future. He's scared of what could happen if I try to divert everyone from their… destinies."

"Time is an intricate balance. It is a thread, a loop of string; if you so much as touch it, you cannot possibly predict the tangles that will inevitably occur. And nobody likes a thread with tangles, Hermione. Nobody prefers complications to the straightforward."

Her face tightened on its own accord, and she tilted her head slightly. "Are you telling me that I have to sit here, when I could do so much more, and let everything roll out as planned? Let everyone 'follow their threads?' Let my friends, the people I love, die…?"

"Destinies?" Remus scoffed.

"'Nobody likes a thread with tangles,'" she recited incoherently.

"What?" Remus asked.

Hermione looked at him, and shook her head, "It's something Dumbledore said."

Peter was staring at her. He asked very carefully, "But what do you think?"

She thought about it. She thought about her self-loathing Defence Against the Dark Arts professor in third year, the one who had lived his life in solitude and left his own baby alone in the world because he had fought for a better tomorrow; of the shadow of a man who'd had his childhood and happiness wrenched from him, the one who had died for a godson he had loved more than anything else; of the scared traitor, so insecure and swathed in fear that he had done the worst possible thing and had sacrificed himself, clasping hold of his one shot at redemption; and of the boy and his beautiful wife who had died at only 21 years old, when they had so much to give, just to rot in the ground.

"I think," Hermione said slowly. "I think that thread is meant to be tangled." She stared at them all, at the werewolf, the traitor, the convict and the carcass; her boys and said, "I don't believe in destiny."

AN: This chapter is so long! Yess! It's also really important- this is the moment where Hermione has un-waveringly decided and voiced that she IS going to change the world. This is where it starts.

I just want to say thank you so much for sticking with this story... I know I say it a lot, but as someone who loves writing (and Harry Potter) it's honestly so overwhelming to get this kind of feedback and I'm so grateful for the time and patience you've given me. I can't thank you enough.

I never realised how long this fic was! I wasn't planning on making it this long, but I needed to flesh out the characters and relationships and problems and this is where the second part of the fic, the darker part, starts. There's going to be a lot less fluff and a lot more angst from now on, but I won't be too mean, I promise! And I definitely plan on finishing this so don't worry! I could never abandon my boys or Hermione or you, even if I wanted to!