TW: Mel finally opens up. (And so do the other girls.) So brace yourselves for a bit of collective grieving.

Mel was released from the hospital wing the morning of Hermione's birthday, after an abundance of caution from Poppy. Tracey had begrudgingly headed off to Divination after breakfast while Hermione and Lily raced to the hospital wing.

"Hi, Poppy," Hermione greeted cheerfully as they slipped through the doorway.

"Good morning, girls," Poppy said, without glancing up from the last diagnostic spells she was casting over Mel. "Just about finished here."

Mel rolled her eyes in the girls' direction. She was a little more herself the last few days, though Hermione couldn't decide whether it was genuine or not. Her heart hurt for her friend, and she worried about what might happen once Mel left the safety of Poppy's careful eagle-eyed gaze.

"Alright, Miss Porter, you may go," Poppy said finally. "But remember, I expect to see you back here Sunday afternoon," she added sternly.

"What for?" Hermione said.

Poppy's expression was triumphant. "I have finally persuaded the Headmaster that, in the wake of this summer, our students need someone to talk to. Someone more specialized than their heads of house."

Hermione blinked in surprise. "You mean you're going to be bringing in counselors?"

Poppy nodded. "Quite so. The Headmaster was worried, of course, about the security situation, having relative strangers come and go, but we've negotiated it with Saint Mungo's to make things perfectly safe."

"I hope it sticks," Lily said quietly.

Poppy's expression was serious. "So do I."

Hermione thought of Severus and Regulus. Of Sirius and Remus. Of Mel, and even herself. "We'll make sure it does," she said firmly.

Mel said nothing.

The walk back to the dormitory was quiet. The girls had been to see Mel every day, so there wasn't much to talk about. Normally the silence would be easy, comfortable. But today it wasn't. Despite all the gossip and schoolwork they'd discussed, today the silence was full of things left unsaid.

The halls were mostly empty, so it wasn't until they reached the common room that the trio had to shift past curious looks. It had been put about that Mel had fallen ill after a complication from a spell she was struck with during the DA meeting. It wasn't exactly a lie, but it still smelled of falsehood, and the Gryffindors hadn't bought it entirely.

Thankfully, they were taking their cues from her friends, and hanging back. Very un-Gryffindor. Hermione suspected Sirius had something to do with it.

"Mel," Remus greeted, with a gentle hug.

"Hey, Remus," she said brightly.

Fake, Hermione thought. It was a game she'd been playing with herself all week. Every time Mel said something, she labeled it "fake" or "maybe" genuine, and filed the information away carefully.

The other Marauders waved from their seats. Hermione appreciated their reserve as they weaved through the subdued greetings and up the staircase to their room.

Mel flopped onto the bed. "Well that was fun."

Lily and Hermione stood there, uncertainly.

"Mel," Lily began.

But Mel sat up and held up her hand. "Lily, I'm fine. Everything is fine, okay? It was just the spell."

Lily shut her mouth.

Fake.

Poppy had gravely assured her that the spell had been fully dispelled by Lily's finite. Her actions may have been nudged by the spell – it was impossible to know – but she'd been saving those pills for a reason, had planned to do it.

Hermione wished Tracey was here. But she was off gazing into crystal balls, which left the job to Hermione. She sighed inwardly, then steeled herself. "No, you're not."

Mel's eyes narrowed. Happy, sweet Mel. "Shove off, Hermione. Who are you to tell me how I'm feeling?"

"I'm your friend," Hermione said. This belligerent crap didn't phase her. She'd been best friends with Harry fricken Potter, and he was the king of the bloody stuff. "I love you. And I meant it when I said no more shutting each other out. I meant it when I said that once you were out, we were all going to talk."

Mel opened her mouth to protest angrily, but Lily had gathered her thoughts, taken heart from Hermione, and was ready to shut her down with the barrage of emotions she'd kept locked away all week.

"You're fine?" Lily said, her voice thick with a turbulent mix of anger and despair. "No one is bloody well fine! Hermione is fighting in a war! She has awful nightmares every damned night! My parents are Muggles! Voldemort could kill them any moment and they'd never see it coming! Would never be able to fight back or escape! Tracey's father is Head of the Department of Magical Transportation! Do you know what a big damned deal it would be if Voldemort could infiltrate his department? If you think for a second she's okay right now, you can think again!"

Hermione cast a quick silencing charm at the door.

"And then there's the small matter of the fact that our best friend just tried to kill herself—"

"It. Was. The. Spell!" Mel shrieked back, flipping from astonished back to furious.

Lily looked about ready to lose it. Her face was redder than her hair. Her fists were clenched at her sides. She looked exactly the way Hermione had felt that time she slapped Draco Malfoy. "Stop bloody lying! You haven't been yourself all month! We know you. Stop acting like we don't. Stop acting like we're no one. Stop—"

"Stop acting like you know everything!" Mel screamed. "You don't know anything!" There were furious tears in her eyes. "You don't know what this summer was like for me. You don't know."

Hermione watched as the anger went out of her friend. As Mel shifted from furious to devastated. As the weight of everything she was pretending not to feel settled back onto her shoulders. Lily's anger was gone in a flash.

"So tell us," Lily said softly. "Let us in. Please."

Just then, the door swung quietly open and Tracey stepped in, shutting it behind her.

"So, uh, what'd I miss?" she asked, her eyebrows raised high at the tension in the room.

Hermione glanced from Tracey back to Mel. "Well," she said, a hint of challenge in her tone, "Mel was finally going to talk about what's been going on."

Mel shifted uncomfortably.

Tracey went to each bed, grabbed all the pillows, and tossed them onto the floor in a sort of circle. "Alright, ladies, everybody take a seat. It's time to get uncomfortable."

Hermione sent a locking charm at the door. "One sec." She scribbled a note onto a piece of parchment while the other girls took a seat on their respective pillows. "Hatty!"

Hatty appeared with a pop. "Yes, Miss?" She glanced past Hermione. "Oh, Miss Porter! Hatty is happy to see you is doing better, Miss!"

Mel smiled awkwardly. "Er. Thank you, Hatty."

"Hatty, could you please take this letter to the Headmaster for me?" Hermione said, calling Hatty's attention back to her. "Let him and Minerva know I'm sorry I won't be making it to tea this afternoon."

"Oh, yes, Miss. But, Miss, what is we doing with your birthday cake then? We is already finished it."

Hermione swallowed uncomfortably. "Um." She glanced back at the girls, who were all staring at her in surprise. "Just, maybe just bring it here, with some lunch? In, say, two hours?"

Hatty bowed. "Hatty is doing as Miss asks." She offered Hermione a smile. "Happy birthday, Miss."

Hermione smiled back. "Thank you, Hatty."

The elf bowed again and disappeared.

Wordlessly, Hermione took a seat on her own pillow. "Well, then-"

"Ohh no," Lily interrupted. "It's your birthday!? And you didn't tell us?"

Hermione sighed. "It doesn't mean anything anymore," she explained. "Between using a time turner my third year, and redoing most of 6th year, I have no idea how bloody old I really am anyway. At least 19. Older, I guess. Albus insisted we celebrate but-"

"But… it's your birthday," Tracey said, exasperated. "A day dedicated entirely to you. There are presents and cake and," she grinned, "extra special birthday kissing."

Hermione laughed uncomfortably. "Well, extra special birthday kissing aside, I don't know… It feels weird to celebrate my birthday. I don't really like to think about it, I guess. And I never really celebrated it in my original time. Harry and Ron never remembered it, and my parents were Muggles, so they couldn't very well send anything." She shrugged. "It's no big deal."

"Remus and Sirius are going to die when they find out," Lily said, a hint of a grin on her face.

Hermione chucked a spare pillow at her, but it was half-hearted. Her birthday was bound to come out eventually.

"We can't sit here and mope on Hermione's birthday," Mel finally chimed in. "This is depressing and awful. We should go do something fun!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Nice try, woman. We are going to sit here and talk. And divulge. And cry. And laugh. And eat cake. And it's going to be my best-ever birthday. Actually. So shut up, and someone start telling us their deep dark secrets."

There was a long silence.

"I'll start," Lily said in a quiet voice. The girls waited patiently while she collected her thoughts. "I guess, you know… I'm scared, mostly. I know, I'm a Gryffindor, and I'm not supposed to be afraid, but I am. I'm afraid Hermione is going to go off on a mission and not come back," she offered Hermione an apologetic look. "I'm afraid for when we graduate and James and Sirius become Aurors, and we all join the Order, and we're all out there, fighting Voldemort and his Death Eaters. I'm afraid for my parents. I'm afraid that Voldemort will get them, and no one will even know or care because they're Muggles."

Hermione reached out and grabbed Lily's hand. "I'm working on that one," she said softly. "I promise."

Gratitude washed over Lily's face, even though it didn't quite erase the strain.

"I'm sorry I can't take away all your fears," Hermione said. "But I'm doing my best where I can. I remember how scared I always was for my parents… How furious I was when they died. Furious that no one had protected them - that I had been so slow to take action. This time we'll do better. I promise."

Lily squeezed her hand, sympathetically. "I'm so sorry, Hermione."

For a moment, no one said anything. Then Tracey cut through the awkward silence. "Well, anything else, Lils?"

Lily hesitated. "Just… just one thing." She glanced at Hermione, who knew, immediately.

"Severus."

Mel and Tracey made puking faces, but Lily nodded. "I just keep wondering, you know… what if I could have saved him? What if I—"

"Don't," Hermione interrupted.

"But-"

"No," Hermione said firmly. "You know that's not true. You know he could only have been saved if he'd wanted to be. And he didn't. He wanted to feel strong. To feel powerful. He wanted to be seduced by the darkness. His father-"

"That's another thing!" Lily said. "How did I never know? How was he my best friend and I never knew about his father? How could I-"

Mel and Tracey were staying mercifully silent.

"He's Severus," Hermione said simply. "If he doesn't want you to know something, you don't know." She hesitated. "Listen, Lily, in my time, Sev became a spy, in the end. He was working for Albus, for the Order. It took… something major. Something terrible. Something I'm not going to let happen this time. So I don't know what's going to happen here. I don't know what his path will look like. I don't know if he will ever get out. But there is good in him, Lily, and he knows that if ever he decides he wants help… you and I will be there for him. He knows. The rest is on him."

Lily sighed. It was a heavy sigh. The sigh of someone releasing a burden that they don't want to set down. That sigh that comes from accepting that something big is totally outside your control… and you can't decide whether you're relieved or devastated.

Hermione decided to give Lily some space to process. She looked over at Tracey. "Lily says you're worried about your dad."

Tracey made a face. "I guess I have to join in too, then, eh?" She scrunched her nose and focused her gaze on a pulled thread at her sleeve, which she immediately began plucking at. "Alright then. Yeah. His whole department is worried. He's scared. He tries to pretend he's not - him and Mum both - but I wasn't born yesterday. I can tell. And I've heard them talking at night. Mum begging him to resign. Dad's put special wards on the house that I'm not supposed to know about. And he came up with this whole series of questions we can ask him to make sure he's not Polyjuiced. He brought home some kind of special potion that's supposed to break the Imperius Curse, too," she scoffed. "Snake oil if ever I heard of it—"

"It's not," Hermione said. "It's real. I promise." She frowned. "I don't know that he should be taking it every day though. I'll speak to some people and find out whether that's safe."

"Thanks, Hermione," Tracey said seriously, to her sleeve. She was silent for a moment. "I overheard them arguing one night. He wanted Mum to take me and my little sister and go. Stay with my grandparents or something. They were both crying by the end, but Mum refused. I wish she wouldn't have. I wish she and my sister were safe someplace else," she said quietly. "Then I'd only have my dad to worry about."

Mel's eyes were tearing up. She wiggled closer to Tracey and wrapped her arms around her. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I didn't even think—"

"You had your own shit to deal with," Tracey said, returning the hug.

Mel sniffled. "I… Jack dying… I thought… I don't know. I thought it would be better once I was home. I thought if I could just be with my family, with people who knew him and loved him, if I could visit his grave sometimes and chat with him… I thought things would get easier.

"And I remembered Hermione starting last year. I remembered that her parents had just died. And she was okay, she was fine. So I knew I would be okay soon too."

"Oh, Mel," Hermione said, her heart breaking. "I wasn't fine."

"Well," Mel went on. "Neither was I. I got home and it was harder instead of easier. Everything reminded me of him. My dad, he's a Muggle, you know… Well, he started drinking. And shouting. He blames my mom, for being a witch, for having magical kids, for dragging us all into a magical war." A trickle of anger rippled through her sadness and then petered out. Hermione's heart was already in pieces.

"And my mom… it's like… it's like she's not even there. She just sits in her chair in the living room, day in and day out. She doesn't speak, doesn't shower, doesn't eat, or go to work. She just sits there. I think she's dying," she said, in a choked voice. "Just wasting away. Who knew you could actually die of a broken heart?"

And then the tears came.

Hermione and Lily crawled over to Mel and joined Tracey in holding Mel as her tears poured down her face, as sobs wracked her body, as she finally let out all her pain.

Hermione was peripherally aware of the fact that she and Lily were crying too. Crying for their own parents, for Severus, for each other. Even stoic Tracey was sniffling. When they finally pulled back, their faces were all tear-streaked and their noses running. Hermione conjured a box of tissue and passed it around.

Once they'd all thoroughly blown their noses, Mel turned to Hermione. "I heard what you were saying in the hospital wing that day," she said. "Or, most of it at least."

"Me, too," Lily said.

Hermione internally cringed.

But Mel was prepared to be merciless. "You said the things you see, the battles and attacks you've been in… you said they eat away at you. That they make holes inside you that you don't know how to fill."

Hermione leaned back against the bedpost behind her and cast her gaze toward the ceiling. Pictures, memories, flooded her mind. Horrific scenes of destruction and suffering.

"We know what's behind that look now, Hermione," Lily said softly. "We know you're remembering."

Hermione shut her eyes as if that might block out the pictures, and took a deep, steadying breath. She opened her eyes again, but kept them trained on the ceiling. "It's awful," she whispered. "My team… we're good. The best. As a unit, we're like a single puzzle, pulled together." She smiled a small smile. "You guys are going to love Emmeline. She's such a badass."

"Forget Emmeline," Tracey smirked. "I'm ready to love me some Gideon Prewett."

Hermione laughed a light laugh that faded quickly back to seriousness. "Well, like Gideon said, we're good. Albus tries to mix things up, make sure no one team becomes a crutch, but we're still the team that's out most. This summer… it was hard." She ran her fingers through her hair, pulling it back out of her face and forcing herself to meet their attentive gazes.

"I've fought the Death Eaters before, of course… but not like this. I haven't had to face the… the carnage. I haven't had to— Well, you've seen the photos in the Prophet. Take those photos and multiply them by ten, and then imagine you're not just looking at them in the paper, but are living them. The screams and the pain and the chaos..."

"That must be so scary," Mel said softly.

Hermione thought about that. "It is… and it isn't." She searched for the words to explain. "My team… we're not the best because we're the best fighters. There are plenty of good fighters in the Order. We're the best because we get into this… this zone. The fear is there, but it's in the background. All that's in our focus is the fight. There's no room to engage with the fear, and if you do, you're screwed because you fall out of the mindset you need to be in, you get sucked out of the battle and into yourself.

"It's scary. I spend a lot of time worrying… about everyone. About everything. Sometimes I feel like it's all on me. Like saving everyone is my responsibility. Like every death is my fault."

"Hooold up," Tracey interrupted.

The corner of Hermione's mouth quirked. "I know it's not true. I do, logically. But it's hard to feel it when you're sitting there, responsible for so much of what's going on. For so many of the decisions being made." She looked away, her voice dropping to a whisper. "It's hard not to feel like it's on me when someone dies when they weren't supposed to."

The girls were silent, and Hermione could feel the guilt and the shame creeping in until…

"You saved my life, Hermione," Mel said firmly. "Don't think I don't realize that you never knew me in the future. Don't think I don't realize that I would be dead right now if you hadn't come back in time." Her eyes were serious. "But don't think for a second that if I had died, it would've been on you. It's on me, okay? I should have talked to you guys. I should have gotten help. And if other people die, Hermione… that's not on you either. We all make our own choices. You are making things better. We can all see that."

Lily nodded fervently. "You can't control everything, Hermione. I'm so sorry if someone has died and you felt like it was your fault. But you're wrong, so wrong, if you think that's because of you."

"Damn straight," Tracey said. "Thinking you can control everything like that… that takes away people's individual agency. We all make our own choices. End of story."

Hermione found herself smiling tearfully. "I don't know how I ended up with so many friends," she laughed, "but sometimes I think I belong here better than I ever did in the future."

"That's because you do!" Lily said, more heartfelt than anyone else ever could have managed, pulling her in for a hug. "You do."

The rest of the day passed in a similar, but less tearful fashion. The girls sat on those pillows on the floor, and they talked. They laughed and teased and confided. They ate lunch and cake. They didn't even open the door until dinner time, when they finally ventured down to the common room.

The Marauders stood as the girls came down the stairs. "We were starting to get worried," Remus joked.

"You should be," Tracey said with a smirk. "It's Hermione's birthday, you slackers."

All three of the Marauders looked from Tracey, to Hermione, to one another, aghast.

"Um. Surprise?" Hermione said with a grimace of a grin.

James was beside himself. "How could you withhold such… crucial information?" he exclaimed. "What is wrong with you!?"

"That's basically what I said," Tracey said, looking pointedly at Hermione.

Hermione shrugged. "It's not a big deal, guys. Honest. Let's just get some dinner, then I think the girls and I are just going to spend the night hanging out." She glanced at Remus, feeling uncertain. What was the protocol here? "If… you know, if that's okay?"

Tracey scoffed. "You don't ask what's okay on your birthday, Hermione! You lay down the law and let everyone fall into place."

"But," Sirius interjected, "We definitely celebrate for real tomorrow." He looked at little injured.

Hermione forced herself to smile. "That sounds really great. Just no numbers on the cake."

"You… already feel old?" James asked, cluelessly.

"No, James," Lily said, a bit exasperatedly, keeping her voice low. "She just isn't really… turning anything today. Her age is all wonky, remember?"

"Ohh," the Marauders all said together. Looking suddenly more sympathetic and less confused or hurt.

Sirius moved to hook his arm through Hermione's like they were girlfriends, then caught Remus' raised eyebrow and froze. "Er. Right. Well, let's all do dinner then, yeah?"

Hermione laughed lightly as Remus slid his hand into hers then kissed her lips softly. "Happy birthday, Hermione."