A/N: Sorry for the long wait! Life's been mad recently, and then I got really into The Walking Dead (which I've not watched before) and I've been obsessively reading TWD fanfic haha!. Anyway, here's the next chapter. Slight TW for mentions of SA - though it doesn't happen and isn't described.
8th November 1975
1:30pm
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Gryffindor Common Room
The Gryffindor fifth years were relaxing on their customary sofas near the fireplace. There was no Hogsmeade trip that weekend, so with Hermione's encouragement (read: pushing) they were all quietly studying. Even the Marauders. Every few minutes Hermione or Lily would send a glare at the group of four boys when a spate of chuckling or whispering rose up from them. Inevitably Sirius would wink at whoever sent the glare and carry straight on with his mischief planning.
The quiet peace of the early Saturday afternoon was broken when the portrait was shoved open and an incredibly dishevelled girl practically fell through. Hermione was on her feet before anyone else, instincts and reaction times trained by war, hurrying over to help the girl up. The girl looked up at her with scared and tired blue eyes, pain shimmering in their depths. Her blonde hair was limp and lacklustre and she was whimpering as Hermione helped her straighten up. She realised with horror that it was Mary MacDonald - a Gryffindor in the year below them that she got on rather well with whenever they interacted.
"Mary? Are you okay?" Mary shook her head mutely, not saying anything. "What happened?" Hermione asked quietly. She was glad that though the common room had fallen silent, and she was aware that her friends, and some of Mary's fourth year friends were hovering, they hadn't crowded the obviously extremely shaken girl.
"I-" Mary looked up and balked at the amount of people watching her, shaking her head fiercely and losing her balance again, tipping sideways into Hermione who struggled to hold her up until Lily rushed forward, supporting her the other side.
"It's okay, Mary. You don't need to say anything." Hermione whispered to her.
Lily caught her eyes over Mary's bowed head, and mouthed, "Hospital wing". Hermione nodded and with a few more whispered words and a nod from Mary they were escorting her back out of the portrait hole, Lily hanging back for a moment to explain to her friends (and the rest of the concerned Gryffindors).
Hermione propped Mary up for a couple of minutes whilst they waited for Lily to come back out, "Do you want to tell me what happened while there's no one else around?" She asked Mary quietly, seriously worried about the girl. She didn't recall Harry mentioning anything about hearing about a Mary MacDonald from either Sirius or Remus, so she was worried something awful may happen to the lovely girl in the future. Though if she vaguely remembered she did join the Order in the past of where Hermione had come from, so hopefully she would this time.
Mary looked up at her, still upset, but looking more angry than scared now. "Mulciber."
Hermione's eyes widened, and then narrowed, "He did something to you?" She asked, trying not to snap and frighten her.
Mary nodded, something flaring behind her eyes that gave Hermione hope, whatever the awful Slytherin had done, it hadn't broken Mary's fiery spirit. "He accosted me. He-" Mary choked off, unable to carry on.
"Hey, it's alright." Hermione pulled her into a gentle hug, keeping a loose hold on the younger girl so she could pull away easily if she wanted to. She didn't though, she hugged Hermione back fiercely, so Hermione tightened her hold. She looked up at the sound of the portrait swinging open, and met Lily's sad and worried eyes. Lily sent her a questioning look as she approached, but Hermione just shook her head and mouthed "Later", then pulled back from Mary. "Mary, we're going to take you to the hospital wing. You don't need to tell Madam Pomfrey what happened, but she'll be able to heal you."
Mary pulled back too, wiping the tears from her cheeks, and nodding firmly. She steeled herself and with Hermione and Lily's help limped down to the first floor. Hermione swallowed down the anger over the pain the younger girl must be in. Her ankle was almost definitely twisted - if not worse - and she had hand shaped bruises already forming around her upper arms and wrists. There was blood at her temple, and her lip was swollen, split and steadily dripping as they made their way downstairs, until Hermione conjured a small rag for Mary to hold to the cut. There were undoubtedly further injuries they couldn't see, not to mention the possible mental damage from the cruel Slytherin's actions. Hermione was utterly furious, and could feel Lily's anger radiating from the other side of Mary, but neither of them said anything, holding back for the younger girl. They helped her into the hospital wing, handing her over to the fussing medi-witch, who then promptly shooed them out of the door back to their dormitory.
As they pushed out the doors, Mary turned around to look at them, "Thank you," she whispered. Hermione sent her a small smile as the doors closed between them. Her and Lily made their way back up to the Gryffindor common room through empty corridors (everyone was either in the library or their common rooms at this time on a Saturday). They were both quiet until they reached the fifth floor, anger practically visible between the two.
Curiosity finally got the better of Lily, and she reached out to stop Hermione with a hand on her arm, "What happened Hermione?"
Hermione sighed, "Mary said it was Mulciber. She didn't say what he actually did, but she looked like she'd definitely been hit with some kind of dark magic." Hermione swallowed her anger down, and looked away from the furious eyes of her friend, knowing she'd get even more riled up otherwise, "I think he might've tried to..." Hermione frowned, and glanced around the empty hallway, making sure no one was around and lowering her voice, "Sexually assault her too. She didn't say, and I wasn't going to ask. Did you see the bruises on her arm?"
Lily nodded and practically growled, a furious scowl on her face as they started walking again, stepping onto the final set of stairs up to the seventh floor. She didn't say anything though, just stormed away ahead. By the time Hermione made it back to the common room, Lily wasn't there.
She took a seat on the sofa next to Frank, leaning into him to feel a little better. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer, "You okay, 'Min?" He whispered to her, brushing her riotous red-brown curls away from her ear gently so no one else would hear.
She sighed, and shrugged, a little shaken at something this horrific happening in the supposed safety of Hogwarts of the 1970s. She relaxed into his hold with a sigh, her brain whirring away. Mulciber deserved some kind of retaliation, which she'd have to carefully plan out. Her eyes caught on her brothers across the room, and she suddenly remembered what the Weasley twins had done to Montague in 1996. Whilst she'd been utterly furious at the time with the two, the idea held merit to her now in her vengeful state. Though really, it was his apparition that had done him in, not the twins actions, and she felt Mulciber deserved something worse and longer lasting.
She closed her eyes and felt a plan forming behind her eyelids. She'd need help, and knew just the person to ask.
9th November 1975
10am
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Lily hadn't reappeared the rest of Saturday except for dinner where she had fumed silently, sitting opposite Hermione instead of beside her for the first time in a long time. Hermione realised when Lily refused to turn around at all, that she was avoiding looking in the direction of the Slytherin table. Hermione glanced over and could see a hurt look on Severus' face, though he was doing his best to conceal it from his housemates.
So, when Lily stormed past everyone in the common room the next morning, Hermione rose to follow quietly behind her, wondering where the still furious redhead was going. She ducked into an alcove and performed a quick disillusionment on herself, shivering at the feel sliding down her like an egg had been cracked over her head. Then she hurried as silently as possible along behind Lily.
She lost her for a bit performing the disillusionment, and when she caught up with her she was already striding along beside Severus into one of the courtyards.
Severus was in the middle of speaking, obviously still upset, "…thought we were supposed to be friends? Best friends? Even if you've got all your silly Gryffindor friends." He sneered.
Lily frowned and crossed her arms over her chest, "We are Sev, but I don't like some of the people you're hanging around with! I'm sorry, but I detest Avery and Mulciber!" Lily's voice was rising with her ire, and Hermione frowned as she listened, "Mulciber! What do you see in him, Sev? He's creepy! D'you know what he tried to do to Mary Macdonald yesterday?" Lily reached a pillar and leaned against it, tears welling in her wide green eyes. She was glaring at Severus fiercely through her tears.
Severus scoffed, shrugging too, "That was nothing, it was a laugh, that's all-"
Lily's frown deepened, and Hermione winced. Whilst she was completely furious that Severus was defending the depraved and awful actions of his housemates, she was more aware than Lily of what Severus' life would come to be, and the side he fought for in the end. The trials of being a half-blood - son of a Muggle father - in Slytherin right now must not be easy. She also knew she needed him in the future, and couldn't let their friendship fizzle out - no matter how much she detested him and his attitude right now. Lily had no such issues, her ferocity rising at the answer, "It was Dark Magic, and if you think that's funny-"
"What about the stuff Potter and his mates get up to?" Severus finally snapped, scowling just as deeply.
Hermione gave a small silent sigh, turning away from the sight of her two friends arguing. The rift in their friendship grew with each word Severus said, and each step closer to his housemates that he took, and Hermione didn't know how to fix it. Or whether she should even try. Especially now he was starting in on Remus. She left as silently as she'd come.
Harry had told her about the falling out between his mum and Severus, and the 'Mudblood' incident. It had mostly slipped her mind until this point, but as she walked slowly back towards Gryffindor tower, she contemplated that it hadn't only been that incident that had led to the end of the friendship between the two, but a series of events over years that culminated in Lily's understandable inability to forgive Severus, and ultimately Severus' decision to join the Death Eaters. Hermione kind of hated herself for knowing she'd let such a horrid end to their friendship come about. But she needed Severus to be a Death Eater - though she'd ensure he went in as a spy for her from the beginning, and he likely wouldn't become one with Lily's continued influence.
24th December 1975
8pm
Longbottom's Loke
When Frank had invited Hermione to spend Christmas Eve dinner with him and his parents, Hermione hadn't considered what kind of impression of their relationship it would give. She'd been distracted by his rather intoxicating kisses when he'd asked, and not thinking with her 'Pureblood brain' as she called it, and had accepted what turned out to actually be a formal invitation from Augusta Longbottom for Hermione Prewett to attend the Longbottom estate for Christmas Eve dinner.
She'd also spent the last month in detention with Sirius for their duel with Mulciber that had turned into a vicious attack that left him in the hospital wing for the rest of the autumn term. So the idea of a nice relaxing dinner over Christmas had sounded perfect, and an escape - not the trap Frank had nicely set for her. Neither she nor Sirius had been sorry for their actions, considering the future Death Eater had brought it upon himself, but she did regret that it had gotten Dumbledore's attention when she'd been doing her best to avoid him. She'd also received a scolding from her mother usually reserved for her brothers when they did something monumentally stupid. She'd heard in an amused letter from Remus that Dorea and Charlus had practically grounded Sirius when he'd gone to theirs.
She was just glad the dinner wasn't on Christmas Day, as that kind of 'meeting the family' was reserved among Purebloods for someone you were betrothed to, or on the way to being betrothed to, as Christmas was such a family oriented celebration within the Wizarding World, even as they started to more widely adopt the Muggle traditions instead of celebrating Yuletide.
Iphemia had been beside herself with excitement, taking Hermione shopping to Twilfitt and Tattings for beautiful formal robes that somehow managed to be both modest and show off hints of a girl growing into a young woman. Geraint and the twins had been scowling about Hermione accepting an invitation to a formal dinner with her boyfriends family without consulting them ever since she'd told them when they got back from Hogwarts, so she and Iphemia had spent much too much time over the last week rolling their eyes with exasperation at the three.
She floo'd into Longbottom's Loke right on time for dinner, and nervously brushed down her robes after she stepped gracefully out of the fireplace - finally having perfected floo travel a few years ago. Frank was standing there waiting for her, a large smile on his face. He pulled her into a quick but passionate kiss after peeking around the large hallway (presumably to check his parents weren't lurking about).
"Hey." He whispered when they pulled back.
She grinned up at him, relaxing a bit more now she was here, "Hey, yourself." She finally said.
"Mother is surprisingly excited to meet you." Frank said with a laugh as he offered her his arm and led her out of the entrance hall and down a large hallway to some rather intimidating looking doors. Prewett Manor may be large, and ancient, but it hadn't ever seemed imposing the way that Longbottom Manor did now, or Malfoy Manor had in her past.
"Surprisingly?" She asked, a little insulted, but also remembering the imposing figure that Neville's grandmother had cut the one time she'd met her in her past (not counting the form Neville's Boggart had taken).
Frank's lips twitched a little, a smile crossing his handsome face, "Nothing to do with you, I promise. My mother doesn't like anyone. Ever. So it's slightly odd that she's excited to meet you."
Hermione let out a snort of laughter, then covered her mouth, glad it was only Frank there to hear her being so uncomposed. "No pressure." She said a moment later as they neared the large doors.
Frank chuckled, "Don't worry, dad's a lot more relaxed. He's a good balance for her." Frank smiled softly, and Hermione couldn't help smiling along; her boyfriend obviously loved and admired his parents. She thought about the cold woman Augusta Longbottom could be in the future, and the fact that she'd lost her son and daughter-in-law, and at some point must've lost her husband too. Hermione felt a wave of sadness wash over her, but covered it with determination to change the future and a false smile as they entered the dining room.
"Ah, Frank, your guest has arrived." Came the strident voice of a much younger looking Augusta Longbottom. The Matriarch was beautiful, dressed in formal robes and the Longbottom family jewellery; she cut an intimidating figure in this lifetime too. Aloysius Longbottom looked so much like his future grandson, though with dark hair, that the breath left Hermione in a whoosh of surprise. Luckily she managed to get through the formal greetings with ease despite her surprise.
"It's a pleasure to meet you both," She said after she'd been introduced, as Frank showed her to the seat next to his. "Thank you so much for inviting me to join your Christmas Eve dinner."
"Nonsense, girl. You are our son's girlfriend are you not? We wanted to meet you." Augusta said firmly, "The concept of boyfriends and girlfriends may be new to us older Purebloods, but if these are the customs the younger generation have picked up, then we must integrate them with our own, must we not? Lest we lose the old ways completely."
Hermione smiled, slightly surprised by Augusta's progressive views (for a Pureblood Matriarch) towards dating. Though she supposed she shouldn't be when the woman had raised Frank, and Neville in her past. "My mother couldn't agree with you more, Mrs Longbottom."
"What of you? Do you agree?"
Hermione nodded, "I do, yes. I think there should be a class at Hogwarts that allows Half-blood and Muggleborn students to learn Pureblood customs. Maybe then we wouldn't be losing them, and there would be more integration for them into our culture." Hermione had thought long and hard about such things after Iphemia and Geraint had become her parents. If she had known some of these customs earlier, she could've avoided faux pas she didn't even know she was making. "Maybe we would also have less prejudice directed towards them if that was the case."
Aloysius smiled widely, sending his son an approving look that made Hermione blush. Augusta was eyeing her, and Hermione braced herself for the older woman to berate her for being so outspoken. However, she just nodded her firm agreement, and the conversation moved on. As dinner passed, Hermione found herself relaxing more and more. Though it was a formal dinner, it didn't feel like one, and both of Frank's parents were lovely in their own ways.
She actually found herself rather enjoying Augusta's bluntness as she complained about some 'imbeciles' she was currently having to deal with at the Ministry where she sat in the Longbottom seat on the Wizengamot. Hermione was quite surprised to find that even with the Longbottom Patriarch alive, Augusta held the seat. But, although there were some ridiculously patriarchal views among the Wizarding world, women were not held back from positions of power nearly as much as in the Muggle world - Merlin, the Wizarding world had had their first female Minister for Magic in 1798 (and had in fact had 10 by the time Hermione was at Hogwarts the first time in the 1990s), and Muggle Britain had yet to have a female Prime Minister.
After dessert was served they all withdrew to the drawing room where the Longbottom's House-elf served them coffee and a small spread of cheese and biscuits was laid out. Hermione settled herself on the sofa slightly stiffly next to Frank, keeping a respectable distance between them when all she wanted to do was relax into her boyfriend's arms. He reached out and took her hand gently, but that was the only bodily contact they had.
"So, Miss Prewett, Frank tells me your brothers - twins correct - are of age?" Hermione nodded at the unexpected question, wondering where in Merlin's name Augusta was going with this. "Are your parents organising their betrothal contract now, or did they already have one?"
Hermione blinked for a moment, worried why Frank's mother was asking her these things. She shot her boyfriend a quick glance, but he currently had an indecipherable look on his face. "Um, our parents allow us to choose who they draw the betrothal contract up with." She finally answered, "They're currently dating Marlene McKinnon, and I think they'll ask her to be in a triad with them, but they haven't yet."
Augusta made a considering noise, "They allow you all to choose?" She questioned.
"Yes. My older sister is married to Arthur Weasley now, and she was the one who requested that our parents draw up the contract with his parents."
"I see." Augusta didn't say anything further on the subject, ignoring the uncomfortable looks on her husband and son's faces, and on her guest's face. She changed the subject to something less probing, and the rest of the evening was passed in comfortable casual conversation. Frank escorted her to the floo in the front hall at just gone eleven, quite late but still respectable. They kissed lightly, aware that his parents were around somewhere still, and Hermione's family would no doubt be waiting up for her.
Frank pulled her close in a hug, "When we get on the train in a week, I'll give you the proper kiss you deserve." He whispered in her ear, pressing a wet kiss against her throat below her ear, and sucking a light spot there that would be covered by her hair. She let out a little gasp, and had to force herself to let go of him when he pulled away. "Happy Christmas, 'Min."
"Happy Christmas Frank." She stepped into the fireplace, and with a shout of "Prewett Manor!" was whirled home.
A/N: Oh no this last scene made me wanna keep Frank and Hermione together D: But I promise no changes of pairing will happen! Maybe I'll just have to write a Frank/Hermione fic to satisfy the craving haha