Note: I did everything I could to retain the 'outline' format of Hermione's list. It's SO PRETTY as it's meant to be, but if you love something, set it free, they say.
I feel something so right
Doing the wrong thing
I feel something so wrong
Doing the right thing
I couldn't lie, couldn't lie, couldn't lie-
Everything that drowns me makes me feel alive
-Counting Stars, One Republic
Chapter Fifty: Destination
Hermione woke earlier than usual the next morning. While there had been a fair amount of snogging up in the astronomy tower the night before, the most meaningful part of Hermione's time there with Sirius had been simply talking. He'd told her about his awful mother, how being a respected pureblood family seemed more important to her than the well-being of her own son. Sirius had told her how he'd felt almost like he'd been reborn when he'd woken up at the Potter's for the first time after taking refuge there. He'd told her about James's parents, how Dorea Potter had been the first person he'd come across that had truly illustrated how a person could be sorted a Slytherin and not be inclined toward cruel or selfish behavior. The Black family were proud Slytherins, but the way they treated each other betrayed their priorities in the very worst way.
As she'd tried to get to sleep last night, Hermione had been haunted by the truths she knew and the pain she knew she couldn't prevent herself from inflicting. It was one thing to tell herself that being nice to Severus in the past would possibly change his understanding of her in her own time, but what did that say about what Remus would think of her? What would Sirius think of her? How could she reconcile the happiness she was taking for herself now with the fact that, if nothing changed, she was still allowing him to crash headlong into his destiny? Not just that, but how would he react to finally escaping from Azkaban and confronting Peter only to immediately be faced with a child that might as well have been Hermia's daughter?
When Hermione returned home, there would be no way to explain herself; he would have fallen into the veil over a year before.
Hermione woke up with a new plan. This new plan was similar to her old plan, in that she had no intention of telling anyone anything to directly affect the future. Events like Lily's sacrifice and Harry's survival as the Boy Who Lived made up the very foundation of the fight against Voldemort. She couldn't change Harry's childhood up to the age of eleven. She couldn't save Lily or James, because as much as she knew Harry suffered as a little boy, his life with the Dursleys was important. She couldn't change that. Or could she?
Lily's death ensured Harry's survival because of her relationship with her sister, Hermione knew. Blood magic was old magic, complex and not often understood-or studied, for that matter. Did blood magic recognize married witches and wizards as blood relatives for something as powerful as a blood sacrifice? Hermione knew that Dumbledore had insisted Harry must spend a period of time with the Dursleys as a way of 'refreshing' the magical protection that Lily had warded her son with. Could James somehow survive and still maintain that magical protection? Hermione pulled the bed curtains tight around her, knowing from experience that the scratch of a quill against parchment could wake her sleeping classmates. After casting a silencing charm and a ward to prevent anyone from moving the curtains aside without her permission, she started to write down an outline of things to research.
CAN HARRY'S DAD KEEP HIM OR MUST IT BE PETUNIA?
Magical weddings
What do typical magical weddings include?
What would J&L plan to include?
Blood ritual?
Binding ritual can possibly substitute for blood?
Magical protection via life sacrifice
Blood relative guarantees safety
Must be renewed yearly?
One visit per X amount of time refresh?
Must be actual blood relative?
Can spouses count as blood naturally?
Via blood/binding ritual during wedding ceremony?
How far does 'safety' extend?
Worst case scenario: Avada: protected
Other Unforgivables
Could Harry hurt himself under Imperio?
If not, could one of us cast it if Harry is in danger from a Death Eater, thus activating the blood protection?
Research altered states and magical protective bond
How minor an injury can be protected against?
Harry's broken glasses from bullying pre-Hogwarts =/= broken nose, concussion
Think of similar minor incidents which may have been reduced from major ones
(DEFINITELY QUIDDITCH)
Would he be able to live with James and visit Petunia X # of times?
Hermione looked at her list, her stomach dropping to the floor. This is what treason must feel like, she told herself. This was important. This was incendiary. This was beyond dangerous. This could, quite literally, change her world.
Hermione started rooting through her books and papers, looking for something valuable, but nondescript. She needed something someone would never toss out by accident, but would also never give a second look. She lifted a book, turned it over to see the cover, and smiled. Her potions textbook was something she would have to have with her for class, unlike the nightmarish book Umbridge had required them to read useless sections from for class. Anyone who knew 'Hermia James' knew she hauled everything with her everywhere, so carrying her potions text would never cause any suspicion.
She thought about what page she could charm to disguise her outline and notes. Hermione had done this high level illusion and secrecy charm once before, when she'd had to keep her school schedule somewhere she could refer to while at the same time keeping her use of a time turner secret. Thinking about her third year gave her an idea, one that made her laugh, unexpectedly.
Turning to page 394 of her potions textbook, Hermione lined up her seditious outline and said the complicated weaving of words and wand motions that would bind the page to the loose parchment, obscuring it beneath the page's actual content. She placed her hand palm-down on the page and said one last incantation, feeling the rush of magic flow from inside her along her arm, through her palm, and into the page.
Looking at the page, she saw nothing out of the ordinary. Hermione placed her hand, palm down, on page 394. Nothing happened. She felt a sense of satisfaction in having done the spell sequence correctly. Now, the only way she could unlock her secrets would be to touch the book in a completely unnatural way, the back of her hand lined up just so, on only that particular page. No accidental touch of her palm or fingertips would reveal her subversion of Dumbledore's instructions.
Hermione had promised to never tell anyone what their future held. She did not plan to break that promise. Instead, she planned to nudge her friends and loved ones away from some things and toward others. Strengthen the bonds of friendship against believing the worst of each other! Use more detection wards. Perform a blood ritual at your wedding? Simple stuff.
oOoOoOo
Sirius flew in tight circles around the Whomping Willow, the chilly morning air and light snowfall serving to keep his senses sharp and his reaction time down to milliseconds. He hadn't spent much time on a broom so far this year, probably because James hadn't (except for Quidditch, of course). Lily wasn't as into flying as the rest of his friends, James preferred to spend his time with Lily, and now that Sirius had Hermia, he understood completely. Her fear of flying was something he didn't think about much, but now that the first snowfall was threatening to be a heavy one, Sirius wondered if there was something he could do to change her mind. Flying above a pristine landscape and getting to see the beauty of Hogwarts' outer reaches without leaving a single mark of yourself to mar it was, secretly, his favorite part of winter. That, and Christmas.
Sirius soared out of the reach of a swift moving willow branch, delighting in the way the already fallen snow was flung toward him by the force of the swipe. He had an idea of what he might like to do for Hermia for Christmas, aside from a present which he hadn't had a clue about yet. The plan would require her to ride a broom, tandem on his, if necessary.
A thin twig swung out along his trajectory and snapped against his ankle, and Sirius lifted out of reach, wincing. It was time to go see what the other Marauders were doing for their own Saturday morning post-breakfast activities. James might want to practice the snowball hex they'd seen in a magazine last week, once more snow fell.
oOoOoOo
She had missed breakfast, but when Hermione had come back through the portrait hole hauling two heavy tomes from her 'quick' trip to the library she was delighted to find that James had worked his magic with the house elves again. Sirius came in shortly after she did, and she kissed his cheek before she sat down, shocked to find how cold his face was. He made a comment about her warming him up, but soon focused on James and Remus, who were talking about Quidditch. Peter finished reading a pamphlet of something and then went up to the boys dormitories, telling the other Marauders he'd be back later.
Hermione settled down with the smaller of the two books, completely focused on the task of learning everything she could about magical marriage traditions. She was ten pages into a chapter about ancient marriage ceremonies for pureblood families when she felt like someone was looking at her. Hermione lifted her head to see three pairs of eyes staring at her, in various stages of 'as wide as saucers.'
She looked back down at the book in her lap with fresh eyes. Sirius and James were both part of pureblood families, and here she was reading casually about marriage ceremonies for pureblood families! The most ancient and noble House of Black.
"Oh," Hermione said. "Oh. No, um, this is research," she said, feeling her blush spread across her cheeks like a drip of water on a paper towel.
"You know that doesn't actually preclude-" Remus started to say, pointing his finger between Hermione and Sirius.
"For a wedding I'm invited to," Hermione rushed over the rest of Remus's sentence. "In January."
"You do know it's the beginning of November," James said.
"You do know this is Hermia we're talking to," Sirius said, sounding a little stressed.
"I got the invitation and realized I don't know anything about magical weddings," Hermione said, looking over at the three of them innocently. "I mean, I suppose I could have asked one of you…" she trailed off.
All three of them now looked very uncomfortable.
Just then, Lily climbed through the portrait hole, recognizing immediately that something was up.
"All right, what-"
James popped to his feet and moved to stand in front of Lily, smiling at her. "How many times must you come through to this very common room only to find that some kind of mischief is going on? Not very relaxing, I'm afraid," he said with false solicitousness. "Shall we break this tradition, today? Shall we go for a walk, and put whatever these children are doing behind us-"
"The children come after the ceremony, Prongs," Remus said, unable to contain his laughter at the completely and utterly black look James shot him.
"As I was saying," James began again, but Lily's curiosity was piqued, and there was no deterring her.
"What magical artifact or device have you discovered, broken, or created?" she asked the four of them. Triumphantly, the three Marauders all pointed to Hermione.
Hermione pointed to her book.
"Right," Lily said, an odd look on her face. "Shall we?" she said to James. "I do not want to know," she said, as the two of them left the common room.
oOoOoOo
Hermione should have known that wouldn't have been the last she'd hear from Lily about the book, but it was nearly a full day later (and a vigorous snowball fight that had necessitated baths for everyone who participated) before Lily spoke with her about it.
"You did not have to do this," Hermione said, toweling off her wet hair with one of the magically heated towels from the Prefects' bathroom. "But I'm really glad you did," she added, burying her face in the towel to enjoy the clean warmth of it.
"Mmm, me too," Lily said, covered in three towels and looking content and delighted. "I will never get over how there never seems to be a limit to these towels. I used six once," she confessed.
"Definitely the best part of getting to use this bathroom, to be sure!" Hermione said, pulling her shirt on and smoothing the hem against her trousers. "A sock warmer?!" she said, hardly feigning her shout of glee, as she loved the magical device so much she'd resolved to obtain one herself once she had her own place.
"If you can't make your boyfriend cast a warming charm on them, that's the next best thing," Lily agreed, winking at her. "Is that one of the wedding vows, do you think? 'I vow to always warm your socks and towels until the end of our days!'"
"I wondered when you'd get to that," Hermione said wryly. "I really wasn't trying to make trouble! It never occurred to me-"
"That's what makes you adorable, Hermia," Lily said to her as she got dressed. "Did you know that at least two witches tried to trick Sirius into relationships last year?"
Hermione's jaw dropped. "Were they expecting... what, that if they're his girlfriend he'll automatically marry them? How does that follow, exactly?" She wanted to know on many levels, if she was honest.
"I think it's a pureblood thing," Lily said, braiding her hair and fastening it in place with the dragon clasp Peter had given her for her birthday. "From what James says, most pureblooded witches and wizards marry the people they were dating in school. It was one of the reasons he was so determined to catch my attention, or so he told me." The gentle red blush on Lily's cheeks only served to make her more beautiful, and Hermione thought with frustration about how hers always ended up looking like ripe apples or maybe a first-degree sunburn. The two of them sat on the marble steps that led to the stained glass window, both clearly too invested in their conversation to go out where it could be overheard.
"I never thought of that," Hermione said.
"You should," Lily said seriously.
Hermione had goosebumps.
"So, clearly this is a Thing I didn't know about-which is all the more reason to read that book, I might add-but what does this mean for you?" Hermione couldn't help asking.
Lily smiled, looking down at her hands, smoothing her left hand out along her thigh and touching her ring finger. "I'm good with it," she finally said.
"Oh!" Hermione said, hugging her impulsively. "I won't say anything, of course," she promised.
"I know you won't," Lily said, her voice somehow both trusting and threatening at once. "What about you?"
"Too early, far too early!" Hermione squeaked, ignoring the inner voice that was cheering for everything related to commitment and long-term relationships. "I really, truly just wanted to know what to expect at a magical wedding. The couple involved are, well, the groom is nearly family," she told Lily. "A dear friend of mine is in the wedding, and she's so stressed out that she doesn't want to have anything to do with looking up traditions and whatnot."
This was actually true, Hermione remembered. Ginny undoubtedly knew more about magical weddings simply by virtue of being born in a magical family, but she had confessed to Hermione that she hadn't ever really thought about it, and could not bear any more wedding related stress. Hermione had intended to look up the possibilities, but it had slipped her mind. She supposed that looking out for her friend even before either one of them was born would probably give her 'friend points,' if and when she could ever tell Ginny about it.
Oh. Telling Ginny about Sirius. She wanted to do that.
"Earth to Hermia," Lily was saying, her wand in her hand, which more than anything else told Hermione just how long she'd spaced out.
"Okay, cheeks. Full Red Delicious, I deserve it," Hermione said, covering her face in her hands.
"Tell you what," Lily said, squeezing her shoulder. "We'll set up tomorrow night in the common room with the veil Frankie Bellwether from Hufflepuff brought with her 'just in case,'" Lily rolled her eyes; "I'm sure she'll lend it to me. Then we'll get cozy and flip through that book and see exactly how uncomfortable we can make Potter and Black, yeah?"
Hermione couldn't wait.
Sirius hovered over the edge of the Forbidden Forest on his broom, bundled in the rich fur coat he'd brought from #12 Grimmauld Place to the Potter's and now Hogwarts. His mother had had no intention of him possessing something so valuable, and therefore he was quite content to be wearing it right now. The landscape below him was so beautiful as to make his heart hurt, in a good way. It looked like how he expected his parents' lives had looked, before he was born: pristine, full of potential, ready to be destroyed by the unexpected footprints of creatures who had yet to set foot on it.
It had stopped snowing after about 12 hours, the winter sun long since set, the moon just under half full. Every delicate branch and bough of the trees below him were painted with a thick layer of white snow, the familiar ground beneath him obscured by the snow that covered its distinguishing features.
He thought about the realization on Hermia's face that she was sitting beside him and reading from a comically large book of wedding traditions. What a contrast from last year! The words from James's father came to him, advice given freely with no strings or conditions or judgment that past summer.
"You'll know. You're strong, son. Those girls were no match for you, that's why they reached out with claws and traps." Sirius had worried that the affection he was feeling for the whole Potter family was going to burst through his chest and destroy the gifts he'd been given. Instead, he was enveloped in a half-hug that had somehow both intensified the bursting feeling and soothed it into something almost bearable.
"Don't think I'd have wanted either one of them," he'd said. "My mother would have been delighted."
"When you find her, whether it's months or years, the rightness will be so sharp you'll wonder how anyone ever survives it," Fleamont had told him. "Dorea can still slice right down to the very heart of me."
Sirius rubbed his chest. The father he'd chosen for himself had been so very right.
