AN: This is just a little fyi that my uni classes are starting back up this week, and while i still intend to post every week they may sometimes be a little late (like monday) depending on how life has been. a lot is prewritten so im not concerned in terms of that - its just a question of whether i'll actually have time to post something. but im not going anywhere - i promise!

TW at end of chapter.

September 1978

Looking around the Leaky Cauldron, James had never been so anxious in his life. He'd done plenty of stupid things over the past eighteen years, and his heart had marched a quick beat through them all but this was terrifying on a whole different level.

Because while he'd been nervous about his choices in the past — attempting the Animagus transformation at 16 being a level of stupid he didn't even dare think about anymore — this was more important than them all.

And while his heart had beat rapidly waiting for lightning to strike, it was reaching entirely new tempos as he looked around the pub. Because while he wanted to believe he already knew the outcome of what he was going to do, there was a part of him that wasn't certain.

Apparating to Diagon Alley, he'd been surprised by how empty it was. Having no reason to visit, he hadn't seen the street in months and hadn't been prepared for how desolate it was. A grey, gloomy air having settled over it, most of the shops had closed signs up and the whole alley felt cold in a way James never had known it to be. As if the life had been drained out of it.

Entering the Leaky though, was another story — the pub heaving compared to the streets outside. Though James suspected, it was still emptier than it would have been the years prior. The September 1st meet up was a tradition dating back as long as anyone could remember, and James certainly didn't know when it had started only that it was an annual event.

Each first of September that June's Hogwarts' leavers would meet at the Leaky for a celebratory drink that they were free from having to return to school. Using the chance to catch up after a summer apart and generally engage in a night of debauchery, it was a well-loved tradition.

And while the rest of the alley may have been deserted, there was nothing that could stop a group of teenagers from enjoying a night out. Maybe even more so with them all looking for a light in the persistent darkness of the war.

So James wasn't surprised when the pub already had a fair few patrons and more trickled in as the night grew closer. Lily appearing from her Mastery; usually, she'd spend hours talking to him about it. So much so James suspected he may be well on his way to earning his own but was content to listen to her babble about something she loved. In light of their friends around them, though, she dropped a kiss to his cheek before disappearing off.

There were still fewer people than James expected, though. And who came was notable too. The Gryffindors all appeared — none prepared to let a little thing like fear drive them away — there were a few Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws but no Slytherins.

Something James wasn't surprised by as they'd always been insular, and the divisions had only grown more pronounced over the past few years. But it wasn't as if he was mourning their absence.

Instead, he accepted Sirius's greeting, a whispered "good luck" as they embraced before his friend went to find Hermione. Leaving James alone at the bar and desperately resisting the urge to down a few firewhiskys in his nervousness — determined that he was going to be at least mostly sober.

Eventually, it was late enough they assumed no one else was coming and instead gathered around enlarged tables to tell stories of their summers. The Auror trainees bemoaning their schedules but all of them buzzing with excitement as they described practices drills and being screamed at by their mentors.

But James barely noticed any of it. Something that made him thankful no one had asked after him. They all knew he would be preparing for the Wizengamot sessions to start again, and no one wanted to discuss the recent push for Aurors to be granted the right to use Unforgiveables during what was supposed to be a relaxed evening.

Sitting quietly also had its downsides, though, and allowed James to work himself even further into his head. Glancing at Lily from the corner of his eye and wondering if he'd taken leave of his senses.

Suddenly feeling overwhelmed, he made a muffled excuse about getting another drink while he escaped to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face. Sure he was going to sweat through his shirt with how anxious he was.

Casting a cooling charm, James thought he was at least safe from embarrassing stains, but it did nothing to stop the fact his heart was going to beat out of his chest. The pounding so loud he didn't hear the door open, and Sirius walk in on his panicked state.

"Prongs?"

He spun frantically towards his friend. Taking in Sirius's raised eyebrows and bemused expression through slightly blurred vision, his breathing had grown so uneven.

"Padfoot," it was more of a gasp than a word.

"Any reason I'm having to come join you in the bathroom like we've both grown tits?"

His tone was joking but did nothing to calm James, who instead scowled as he replied, "I think you can probably guess."

"Yeah — I can — which is why I know you're being ridiculous. She wouldn't have accepted that bracelet if she wasn't serious."

"But not this soon, or this publicly. Fuck, why did I plan it like this — maybe we should postpone."

Looking at his panicked form, Sirius took a deep breath before asking, "Fuck, where's Moony when you need him."

"I don't know!"

"Wasn't actually asking mate — just — I'm going to have to be the voice of reason here, aren't I?"

Any other time, it would have been a terrifying thought, but at that moment, James just stared at his friend blankly before Sirius offered, "I could go get Mini? She's about as close to Moony as we're going to get right now."

"No. No — not more people. Only you and I know — I can just," he nodded to himself, "I'll wait, and no one needs to know." His panic diminishing as James talked himself out of something he'd been planning for weeks but thinking about much longer than that.

"No," Sirius's voice cut through his ramblings, tone non-negotiable. "A Marauder is not going to chicken out just because he's getting cold feet. Do you not want to do this anymore? Have you changed your mind?"

"Of course not!"

Sirius looked unimpressed by his explanation and instead suppressed a smirk.

"Then you're going to do it."

"Yes," James nodded with more confidence.

"And you've got it with you?"

"Yes," it was almost a shout this time as his heart started racing not from fear but adrenaline.

"Then I'm going back to the table, and you're going to get the drink you claimed you were. You're going to come back, grow some balls, and go through with it."

Again, he almost shouted his affirmation before watching as Sirius escaped the bathroom. Running his hands through his hair, James frantically patted down his pockets to ensure he had still had the little box that had caused all his panic. Slipping back to the bar and ordering himself a firewhisky, getting a refill of Lily's preferred Gilly Water too.

Placing it in front of her as he retook his seat, she sent him a questioning look, but he shook it off. Trying not to clue her in to the panic he'd just had. Instead, focusing on the conversation around them until Frank caught his attention.

"And you, Potter? What've you've been up to?"

Technically a year older than them, Frank wasn't part of the usual group and instead was there with Alice. His arm draped over the back of her chair as the couple looked more enamoured than ever. Both impatiently waiting for their wedding in December — something that typically wouldn't have taken place until next summer but that they'd brought forward because of the war.

Looking at them gave James the burst of confidence he needed — because he wanted that. He wanted everyone to know that he and Lily were more serious than the trinket he'd given her back in January and that she was it for him.

So with that renewed energy, he shifted before replying, "Not much, I do have something to say though," as he started to stand.

Placing a hand on the back of Lily's chair, she turned to look at him with confusion crossing her face as he gave her a reassuring smile. The rest of the pub falling silent as he took a fortifying sip of his whisky before beginning the speech he'd been practising for weeks.

"Evans — Lily," his palms were sweating again; he was sure of it, but looking into her green eyes, he didn't care. He just knew he needed to keep going, that he'd never forgive himself if he stopped. "I know there are a million other things we should be focusing on, and I know that you'll probably say we're too young, and it's too soon — but you're it for me, Evans."

She'd brought a hand up to her mouth; her eyes were widening in shock as she realised what was happening, but she made no move to stop him, so he took a breath to continue.

"I don't know if it was a year ago, when you finally said yes, or three when I realised the reason you frustrated me so much was that you were too much; too beautiful and too good for me to understand until I suddenly realised exactly how perfect you are. Or, Merlin, maybe it was eight years ago when you called me out for being the little shit that I was, and I couldn't stop thinking about you for days after—" he took a step away from her chair.

Remembering what Ivy and Richard Evans had told him about muggle traditions when he'd gone to have the most terrifying dinner of his life. Richard had happily shaken his hand, but Ivy had cut vegetables while making intense eye contact with him before eventually coming round to the idea.

They'd given him a crash course in muggle traditions before sending him on his way. James determined this moment would be everything Lily had been dreaming of.

"—but it's always been September 1st, and it's always been you—" he knelt as Richard had told him to, pulling out the little box he'd been so worried about earlier, "—so what do you say — marry me?"

She made a choked sound into her hand as tears filled her eyes, and for one moment, James panicked, but then he saw the happiness shining out of them as she nodded frantically.

Mute for a moment, as she just kept nodding, forcing him to ask, "Is that a yes?"

"Yes! God, of course, it's a yes."

"You sure about that, Evans?"

"Of course, I am dummy. As if I'd say no."

And then, with the reassurance that 'No' had never been an option, he needed to get closer to her. He needed to give her the ring he'd spent hours searching the Potter vaults for. Knowing that muggles used rings as engagement gifts and wanting to honour that part of her heritage. And even beyond that, he needed to have her in his arms, to kiss the lips that had formed into a beaming smile.

Hermione hadn't been sure about coming to the Leaky for the 1st of September celebration. Not feeling particularly celebratory with Remus still MIA and knowing Pandora wouldn't be in attendance.

Her friend had disappeared through the floo with Xenophillius the morning after her disownment. She'd looked pale and sickly but also glowing with happiness as Lovegood had helped support her weight.

Pandora had given her a tight hug and a reassuring whisper that "everything will be okay" and "our plans are in motion." Which Hermione knew was referring to the Gaunt House as much as she didn't want to think about the Horcruxes or Tom Riddle when she was so busy worrying about Pandora.

But she'd let her friend go with Lovegood, knowing it was for the best. That she'd be able to heal in peace in Ottery St Catchpole and Xenophilius's loving embrace, far more than she would in the spare room of Sirius's flat, no matter how much Hermione wanted to beg her friend to stay.

Hermione knew she wouldn't be in attendance tonight, though. Partially because Pandora was likely still healing but also because the story of what had happened to her was slowly revealing itself to the public, and no one would want to associate with her.

Exiled from the Malfoys, she had no family anymore, but it was worse than that too. Because her disownment went beyond that and instead marked her rejection from society as a whole.

Of course, it wasn't quite that binding, but few people wouldn't want to socialise with her and risk drawing Abraxas's wrath. Eventually, the scandal would die down, and places would become more accepting, but for now, as the story made the rounds, Pandora would get little peace in public.

So, instead, Hermione was largely alone at the Leaky. Smiling a greeting to the Gryffindor girls, she'd spent most of the evening at Sirius's side while he cycled through the seemingly endless list of people who wanted to talk to him.

All of them speaking to her only as an afterthought, but truthfully, Hermione preferred it that way. Letting her watch from a distance to note the Slytherin's absence and think about how desperately they needed to dismantle house rivalries once this was over because nothing good could come of the segregation.

Her observant role for the evening also let her watch James jump between anticipation and panic with worrying speed. His eyes continually flicking to Lily, he'd watch her for a few moments, seemingly transfixed, before he caught himself and jerked his eyes away as if he'd been doing something he shouldn't have been.

His bizarre behaviour had confused her, but Sirius had given her a reassuring look when he'd returned from the bathroom James had unsubtly escaped to. Reassuring her that he was just being a prat and was, in fact, completely fine.

She'd trusted his word and put her concerns to the side, meaning she'd been equally surprised by the proposal. Idly wondering how long James had been working on his speech because it was by far the most eloquent she'd ever heard him, and she knew it couldn't be the result of anything but prior planning.

Their engagement had marked a change of pace for the evening. The pretence of catching up thrown to the side under the guise of celebrating, that was really just an excuse to order another round with the promise of more to come.

Popping open a bottle of elf wine, they toasted the happy couple before people began breaking into smaller groups. The Gryffindor's swarming the future Potters to see the ring, or in Sirius's case, to mock James for how nervous he'd been.

She'd let him go with a squeeze of his hand to reassure him she didn't mind before heading to the bar. Greeting a surprisingly young-looking Tom, that really shouldn't have been that shocking.

It was easy to overlook that she knew so many people from her other life. Having no point of reference for Lily and James, she'd only known them as the younger version of themselves outside of the occasional photo, but even Remus and Sirius were markedly different to their older counterparts.

Carefree, and not yet the war-torn men she'd known back then. Hermione prayed they'd never become them, but suspected there was little she could do to mitigate all the damage.

But even with those differences, the truth was she saw them too frequently and knew them too well in this life to truly consider them the same people. The images too different to see those other versions of them as anything but terrifying foreshadows of what she needed to prevent.

It was the people she didn't know as well and that she saw less often, where the differences were more notable. Tom looking just ever so slightly too young compared to what she knew. Fewer lines around his eyes and a youthfulness to him that she'd never seen in her other life.

Still, for all he looked younger, he was the same. Offering a welcoming smile as Hermione leant against the bar. Handing her a second glass of the Gilly Water she'd been sipping all evening — aware she had work early the next morning.

Making her only slightly jealous the fact it was a Friday and that Sirius could celebrate without having to worry about the morning. Instead, meaning he'd show up towards the end of her shift, still hungover and whining, to entertain himself until she finished. Which was really just an excuse to try and annoy her before he took her for a late lunch to apologise in what had become something of a tradition for them and one that she cherished.

She was considering where to take them — the two exploring muggle restaurants around London as part of their ritual — when an explosion rocked the pub.

The shock wave making her stumble; she almost fell but caught herself with reflexes honed from months of training with Sirius. They made her throw her arms out unthinkingly, catching the edge of the bar to keep herself on her feet.

Spinning in the direction of the alley, Hermione pulled her wand as she moved entirely on instinct. Barely noticing as the Auror trainees rushed towards Diagon. The Order members who weren't part of the Aurors running behind them, Hermione got caught up in the bottleneck as they tried to rush into the main street.

She cast a shield charm without thinking. Some itch in the back of her mind telling her that she'd need it. Something that was proved right as it saved her from a spell that immediately came shooting in her direction.

Ducking despite the charm, she barely had time to process her surroundings. Multiple storefronts with their windows blown out, smoke and dust clouding her vision. The flickering reds and orange of flames fighting through the haze. Making the street uncomfortabely hot. The ash almost burning her lungs as she inhaled.

It was shockingly similar to the attack on Hogsmeade and yet not at all because while there had been plenty of Death Eaters there, their ranks had clearly grown in the almost two years since then.

Easily outnumbering them by at least two-to-one, Hermione was only thankful that the Alley was largely empty due to the late hour and that the only people who were still around were those who'd stayed to drink and celebrate.

Although that in itself was an alarming revelation because she'd only just realised how stupid they'd been. An annual event, one Gryffindors who were almost certainly Order members, were likely to be the only people bold enough to attend — they'd been sitting ducks.

All of them drinking, slowly their reactions and making themselves vulnerable Hermione cursed herself for not having realised the danger. It wasn't a trap, but it was as bad as. An obvious opportunity to launch an attack against the Order, or at least people they suspected were a part of it.

She could berate herself later, though, because instead, she needed to focus on the fight around her. Spells flying past her head, Hermione moved away from them instinctively as her wand fired out stunners and other spells she suspected the Order wouldn't approve of.

Wand cutting through the air like a knife, she didn't have time to think as she cast. Moving on instinct alone, she ducked and bobbed her way through the crowd. Watching some Death Eaters collapse but nowhere near enough. They were so outnumbered, it forced her to move faster.

Lily and James fighting side by side again. Their movements mirroring each other — they fought as a perfect pair. Sirius nearby, duelling his own set of Death Eaters but holding his own well enough that Hermione wasn't worried. She still wanted to get closer to him, though, knowing they worked better together.

Alice and Frank were also fighting together. As formidable as James and Lily, Hermione caught a glimpse of the confident young man Neville had become — who she'd only known for a few hours — in the way Frank clutched his wand and sent out stunners.

She was fighting through Death Eaters — alternating protegos and offensive spells — while still trying to make her way to Sirius and the others when she caught a flash of white that made her blood boil in her veins.

Watching as one of the masked men ducked out of the way of her spells, the movement just hasty enough to nudge his robes aside. Letting her catch a glimpse of a few strands of white, almost silver, blond hair that could only belong to one of two men.

And based on the robed figures shorter stature — Draco and Lucius's height apparently not actually a Malfoy trait — the man she was duelling was responsible for Pandora's suffering.

Then, as quickly as her blood had run hot, it turned to ice. A cold rationality sharpening her mind as she began duelling with a proficiency Hermione hadn't known she possessed.

Spells shot out of her wand faster than she thought possible, and she watched as Abraxas Malfoy was forced on the defensive. Clearly not having expected to find the opponent he did in a schoolgirl.

He'd seen her tiny figure and judged it in the way Hermione knew he would. Seeing weakness and a scared little girl, his underestimation just enough for her to land a curse she knew would horrify her companions but that Hermione felt no guilt in casting.

Watching as a tiny jet of grey, almost black, grazed his shoulder, she could feel his smirk as he realised nothing had happened. Letting herself fall back on the defensive as if it had merely been a lucky shot and one that had failed at that.

The spell fizzling out of existence. His renewed confidence let him overlook the fact it had hit and was actually working exactly as Hermione intended.

Stumbling backwards under her guise of panic, she wondered if he recognised her. If he knew she'd held his daughter while he tortured her from afar. That she'd coaxed Pandora through those hours, muttering reassurances and pouring potions down her throat to ensure she hadn't succumbed to the ritual as Abraxas had likely hoped.

But based on the almost dismissive way he'd duelled her, pushing her in the direction she wanted to go — not that he'd realised it was intentional — Hermione knew he didn't.

But the memory of what he'd done to Pandora made was what made Hermione say the words. Flick her wand in the motions laid out in Curses Moste Cruele that she'd spent weeks reading in the comfort of her and Pandora's room. The great irony being Abraxas Malfoy had failed to recognise a spell taken from one of his own books.

In the other timeline, Abraxas Malfoy had lived until midway through first year. Something she only knew because she'd had to listen to Harry and Ron bemoan the fact Draco got to miss a fortnight of school.

Although, even at twelve, she'd been slightly surprised by the complete lack of grief on Draco's face when he'd returned. As if his Patriarch's passing had actually been a great relief.

Something Hermione now suspected it had been. Abraxas was the true evil of the Malfoy household, his influence echoing long after he'd gone. He'd moulded his son into something cruel to replicate himself.

Hermione had never liked Lucius Malfoy in her other life, but she knew he'd walked through the battle without a wand while trying to save his son, and that told her everything she needed to know about who he was at heart.

That he'd do anything to protect his family, and that had rung true in this lifetime too. Something that formed her opinion of him this time. Well aware, Lucius had protected his sister against her different sorting at Hogwarts through carefully placed orders within Slytherin and through cutting looks and a show of acceptance outside of it.

Doing the best he could to ensure nothing bad became of her betrayal of Malfoy tradition. Pandora had never had a bad word to say against her brother, so Hermione wondered if it was being forced to live under Abraxas rule for years that had made him cruel and whether things would change once he was free from it.

Something that was coming far sooner than Draco's first year thanks to the spell that had just hit him. Instead, Abraxas Malfoy had a year — maybe — before he succumbed to magical exhaustion.

The spell designed to slowly drag more and more of his magic from him, like he'd done to his daughter, only instead of happening all at once, it happened slowly. Aches and pains and the slow realisation he was dying, and there was no cure for the illness he had.

Hermione didn't know when she'd allowed herself to become judge, jury and executioner, but for Abraxas Malfoy, she'd happily don the black hood. Both for knowing what he'd done to Pandora and to protect the Horcruxes they already had.

Curse cast, she escaped Abraxas with a mock fearful look — not wanting him to question their interaction — before making her way towards the others. Spells still firing around them, James had blood trickling down his head as he tried to duel one of the masked men, and Lily was too distracted by trying to protect him to realise she'd left her side open.

Something Hermione only noticed as she realised one of the Death Eaters had too. Watching them move their wand in a motion that panicked her brain. Something about the swishing of it familiar to her other memories.

It wasn't until purple flames erupted out of the tip that she realised why it was. Antonin Dolohov and the curse that had hit her in the Department of Mysteries. It had almost killed her then, and knowing that Hermione knew she couldn't let it touch Lily.

She was too important. Without Lily, there could be no Harry, and like she'd had to save James all those months ago, Hermione knew she needed to save Lily too. That Lily had no chance of surviving the spell, but that Hermione did if she acted fast enough.

So before she could let fear prevent her, Hermione shoved herself between Lily and the path of the flames. Sending her tumbling into James as Hermione took her place.

The last time she'd survived by dumb luck, a well timed silencio that had muted the effects of the curse, but this time she didn't have that luxury. The spell had already been cast.

Instead, she threw up the strongest shielding charm she knew and watched as the flames ate through it. Bracing herself for what she knew was coming as it formed a concentrated purple haze that continued its path towards her chest.

And then her world burned.

TW: Violence, Murder, Reference to Torture