Chapter 8: Dog with a Bone


But Ron was staring at Hermione as though suddenly seeing her in a whole new light.
"Hermione, Neville's right — you are a girl..."
"Oh well spotted," she said acidly.
— Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, J.K. Rowling


Sirius:


Sirius sat in his usual seat at breakfast in the Great Hall, sipping his coffee placidly as he attempted to observe Hermione discreetly from across the table. She was reading the letter she'd just received, her freckled nose scrunching in confusion as her amber-colored eyes traveled rapidly down the parchment. He wondered what news the letter held, because as she continued to read, her eyebrows rose in apparent surprise.

He wasn't sure what it was about this girl, but he was absolutely intrigued by her. Sure, his fascination probably began with her mysterious arrival, and intensified after he discovered what seemed to be Bella's wand (what the fuck was that, anyway?), but there was something more to it.

He didn't know whether it was friendship or romance that he wanted from her—or if he simply wanted to fuck her into her mattress. She wasn't exactly his usual type, either. She was alarmingly thin, as if she hadn't eaten properly in over a year. She certainly ate like it, too, with the way she scarfed down every meal like it was her last. Her hair could only be described as fucking wild—untamed brown curls flowed down her back and bounced enticingly with every movement she made. She was pretty, though. Beautiful, even, the more he examined her. The cuts that had covered her face when he first found her had healed, but what seemed like dozens of tiny scars now shone white against her tanned skin. Her oxford was buttoned all the way to her neck, as if there were more scars she was concealing.

No—what Sirius felt the most when it came to Hermione Granger was worried. What the hell had happened to her? Who had hurt her? A primal urge to protect surged through him as he gazed at the girl sitting across the table—even though he doubted she needed it, if those bloody reflexes of hers were any indication.

"Morning, handsome," a voice purred into his ear as someone slid onto the bench beside him. Speaking of his usual type—

"Morning, Mar. Nice of you to finally join us," Sirius said, giving Marlene a once over. Goddamn, she got even more fit every year. Even through her school robes, he could tell the summer hols had been extremely kind to Marlene.

Marlene rolled her eyes as she poured herself a cup of tea. Sirius returned his attention to Hermione, who was now speaking in a hushed voice to the tiny owl hopping in front of her.

"That your owl, Hermione?" he asked, taking another sip of his coffee. Hermione looked up, seemingly surprised at being addressed. He couldn't help but notice the way her pink lips pursed together in an annoyed fashion when she spotted Marlene.

Interesting, he thought with a smirk, very interesting.


Sirius had a free period first off, so eight o'clock found him on the grounds next to the Black Lake, hidden from view of the castle by his favorite beech tree. He'd shed his robes the instant he left the Great Hall, shoving them unceremoniously into his bag, instead donning his worn leather jacket. He was sitting on the damp grass, leaning up against the trunk of the tree with a Muggle cigarette held lazily between his fingers.

He brought the fag to his lips, inhaling deeply. What was he going to do about Marlene? He watched the smoke as it left his mouth, swirling around him as it joined the morning fog. Sure, they'd had a nice run over the summer—but it had always just been a bit of fun, right? Neither of them were exactly the type to settle down. Not anytime soon, anyway. They'd both made that perfectly clear. But how was he going to work out how he felt about this new girl if Marlene kept popping up?

He shook his head jerkily, his dark hair falling across his eyes. Honestly, he had more serious problems to face at the moment.

His brother.

What was he going to do about Regulus?

"I figured this was where you'd gotten off to," someone said behind him. Sirius jumped, ash from his cigarette landing on his trousers. James Potter plopped down beside Sirius onto the grass, legs sprawled out in front of him.

"The fuck, Prongs?" Sirius said irritably as he brushed the ash from his trouser leg. "Warn me next time, you tosser."

"Pay better attention to your surroundings, brother. Especially if you're breaking about five school rules," James answered, indicating the lit cigarette in Sirius's hand. "I could give you detention for that, you know."

Sirius barked out a laugh. "You wouldn't fucking dare."

James shrugged. "You're right, as long as you're sharing."

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "What happened to your whole bloody speech about always being in top Quidditch condition?" He finished in a high-pitched, mocking tone, but James didn't even flinch.

Instead, James shrugged again, looking forlorn. "Honestly, I don't give a fuck at the moment."

Sirius tossed the half-empty pack to James, and pulled out his wand, igniting the tip. "What's got you so buggered today?" he asked as James placed the fag between his lips, leaning forward to let Sirius light it.

"What do you think, Padfoot?" James replied wearily, heaving a sigh and taking a long drag.

"Ah, the usual then?" said Sirius knowingly, bringing his own cigarette to his lips. James nodded silently. "But what about Delia? I thought you two were trying to make a proper go of it."

"Eh, we had a good time these past few months. Honestly, we did. It was fun working together this summer at Quality Quidditch Supplies." He paused, thinking for a moment, then added, "She's a bloody good shag, too." He shrugged again. "I dunno, Pads. She's a year younger than us, and couldn't be arsed about what's going on in the wizarding world."

Sirius's eyes darkened. "Yeah, hell of a deal breaker," he replied, shaking his head. "Shit's getting serious now."

"I know," James answered solemnly. "And then I see Lily—" his eyes glazed over as he continued. "She has all this fucking passion, you know? She wants to change the whole goddamned world one day. It's hard not to compare the two." He shook his head dejectedly and looked up to the swirling gray clouds above them. They were both quiet for a moment.

"I don't know what to tell you, mate," Sirius said finally, turning to look at James.

James heaved another great sigh and ran his fingers through his already untidy hair. "Well, enough of my bitching. How are you and Marlene?"

Sirius shrugged, exhaling the smoke from his lungs slowly. "Is there even a 'me and Marlene'?"

James raised his eyebrows at Sirius quizzically. "I thought you two had been shagging like kneazles in heat all summer? Mum had to give you a bloody curfew, mate."

"I don't know," Sirius said slowly. "Me and Marlene—we've always been friends, you know? Ever since we were first years. I think we just work better as mates. She's great, don't get me wrong. But—"

"Does this have anything to do with the new girl? Hermione?" interrupted James, stubbing out his cigarette on the ground beside him.

"Prongs, I literally just met the bird three days ago," Sirius replied with a snort.

James, however, gave him a knowing look. "Yeah, if you say so. But I see the way you look at her. It's like watching a fucking dog with a bone." He paused, then correct himself, "Or a dog that really wants to fuck said bone. Or bone said bone." He shook his head again. "Fuck, I'm bad at these analogies."

"Eh, I always want to fuck something," Sirius replied vaguely, determinedly avoiding James's gaze. Instead, he stared out at the mist rising off the lake.

"Be careful with her, Pads," warned James, his voice becoming more serious. "I like her and all, I really do. But there's just something about her. She has this… haunted look in her eyes. Like she's seen some really horrible shit in the past."

"I know," said Sirius, his voice, too, more grave. "I told you how I found her. Something just doesn't add up…"

Sirius lit another cigarette. James ruffled his hair. Both wizards sat in silence, staring out across the Black Lake. Sirius watched as a thestral rose out of the Forbidden Forest, swooping low over the treetops before disappearing from view.

"There's something else bothering you though, mate. I can tell," said James, breaking the silence and turning back to look at Sirius.

Sirius pushed his hair out of his eyes before answering hollowly, "Regulus."

"Ah," James replied simply. They were silent a moment longer.

"I ran into him last night," Sirius continued in the same hollow tone, his expression unreadable. "On my way back to the tower after the feast."

"And?"

"He's going to do it."

"Fuck," James whispered, scrubbing his hand across his face.

"I know."

Sirius flicked his spent cigarette into the air, vanishing it with a flick of his wand as it fell. He stood, holding out a hand to James.

"Come on, Prongs. Defense Against the Dark Arts will be starting soon."


Sirius and James arrived in classroom 3C with only seconds to spare. The rest of the class was already seated, but their usual desks in the middle of the room next to Remus and Peter were empty. They both looked at each other as they sat, sharing a silent smirk. The professor was nowhere to be found, so Sirius lounged in his chair, leaning it back on two legs as he glanced around the room. His eyes easily found the girl that was at the forefront of his mind.

Hermione was sitting one row in front of him, three seats to the left, her copy of Confronting the Faceless already open, parchment and quill at the ready. Her face was a stony mask. She was staring at the front of the room as if it were her job, evidently avoiding eye contact with someone. But with whom? Next to her sat Lily, who was pink in the face and kept casting wary looks in Hermione's direction.

What the fuck had happened?

"Books and quills away, please," someone called from the back of the classroom as the door opened. "We're going to have a practical lesson today."

Professor Prewett entered (fucking hell, which one was he?), and flicked his wand to the blackboard as he walked to the front of the room. As the class stowed their books away, the word "DUELING" slowly formed in chalk across the board. He turned to face the class. "From what I can gather, your past six Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers have been, for the most part, satisfactory. You're up to par when it comes to dealing with dark creatures and minor jinxes and hexes. However, we're going to start this term with a little return to the basics."

Unable to take the suspense any longer, Sirius raised his hand.

"Yes, Sirius?" Professor Prewett asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Er," Sirius began, unsure of how to continue. "Which twin are you?"

Professor Prewett laughed good-naturedly. "Really, Sirius? You were my second-string beater for two years." Sirius shrugged, and the professor continued. "I'm Gideon."

The entire class uttered a quiet "oh" of realization, and Professor Prewett laughed even harder. "But that'll be Professor Prewett to you lot for the rest of the year. I know I'm not much older than you, but we've got to maintain at least some semblance of decorum, right?"


Hermione:


As Lily and I left Ancient Runes, she couldn't stop raving at how wonderful my previous instruction must have been. "I mean honestly, Hermione," she said, hiking her massive schoolbag onto her shoulder as we departed our first lesson. "You were completely caught up with the curriculum! Ahead of it, even. It's like you'd never attended another school at all."

Because we had the same classes, Lils. Admittedly, mine were twenty years in the future.

However, I simply smiled and nodded as she continued her praise. We made our way through a doorway hidden behind a tapestry of a deserted moor and down the many staircases to the third floor for Defense Against the Dark Arts. We rounded the corner of the third floor corridor, and—WHAM.

I collided with something.

Hard.

I stumbled backward to the ground, landing straight on my arse.

Constant-bloody-Vigilance, Hermione.

"Fucking hell!" I exclaimed as my wrists collided with the stone floor in an attempt to break my fall. It did nothing of the sort. Defeatedly, I leaned backward until I was lying flat on the ground, blinking up to the ceiling as I rubbed my injured wrists. I desperately hoped there were no teachers in the corridor to hear my swear.

Two people rushed to my aid—Lily, and the person I'd evidently walked into.

"Oh my God! Hermione, are you alright?" Lily squealed, crouching beside me and reaching forward to inspect my wrists. I quickly snatched my arms away, afraid she'd push back the sleeves of my robes.

"I'm fine Lils, just a bit bruised," I reassured her, but Lily was no longer looking at me. Instead, she was staring at the other person leaning over me.

I stared at him too, my blood running cold.

"Lily," he said in a tight, clipped tone. His lips were pressed together in a line so thin, McGonagall would be proud.

"Snape," she responded shortly, voice full of disdain. Her face was flushed blotchily, her eyes bright.

What in the actual fuck was going on?

The young Severus Snape looked just as I imagined. His dark hair hung in greasy curtains framing his sallow face, his complexion pallid and black eyes slightly shrunken. He looked as if he needed a friend to demonstrate how to properly shampoo his hair, and I desperately wanted to take him outdoors on a sunny day so he could soak up a bit of Vitamin D.

He held out his hand to help me to my feet, and I had no choice but to accept.

Oh Merlin, this boy would one day murder Dumbledore. But I knew my role here. I needed to save face. What had Dumbledore told me just days ago?

Do you have any idea of the difference you could make by merely being here? By befriending those in need of it? By simply being in the right place at the right time?

Was this the right place? The right time?

"Er, thank you. Sorry about that," I said to the young Snape, adjusting my disheveled robes as I stood. "I should have been paying better attention."

However, he wasn't looking at me. His eyes were fixed on Lily as if she was the only one there, a pained look of longing—and possibly regret—on his face.

What fresh hell was this? Wait—was Snape in love with Lily?

And then everything snapped into focus. Comprehension hit me with the speeding force of the Hogwarts Express, and I almost fell to the ground again as the revelation washed over me.

Of course Snape was in love with Lily! It certainly explained why Professor Snape hated Harry so strongly—seeing the spitting image of James Potter with Lily Evans's eyes must have been pure torture. That also must have been why Dumbledore trusted him all those years, even when every bit of evidence pointed to the contrary. That's why Dumbledore believed Snape felt genuine remorse over revealing the prophecy to Voldemort. But—if all of this was true, did Snape really murder Dumbledore? Or was it some sort of insane plot concocted by Dumbledore?

And why was Lily glaring at Snape as if he'd just killed her owl?

Fuck, this was way too much to take in at once.

Right place, right time, Hermione.

I held out my hand to him. "Like I said, really sorry about that," I continued loudly. "Apparently my friend-making techniques are a little rusty. I'm Hermione Granger. And you are?"

He finally seemed to realize there were other people there—a whole damn hallway full of them, actually. I glanced around the corridor quickly. Peter looked worried and Remus looked ready to leap into action. Alice held Marlene's forearm in a vice-like grip, as if to hold her back from pouncing. Snape eyed me up and down before shaking my hand and responding in an oily voice I knew so fucking well, "Severus Snape. A pleasure."

"Lovely to meet you, Severus," I answered in the kindest voice I could muster. "I assume we're both going to the same place now, right? Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

He nodded, eyebrows raised at my polite tone. Lily looked as if she'd just eaten an entire box of Cockroach Clusters.

I turned away from them both, entering the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom and taking a seat in the middle of the room. I fixed my gaze determinedly forward, mind whirling. I wasn't sure if I could take much more today, and it wasn't even noon yet.


"So as I said, we're going to start with a return to the basics, just to make sure we're all on the same page. We'll start with dueling, then make our way back to a review of dark creatures. After that, we'll see if there's enough time left for you to learn something new. I thought we'd have an informal dueling match today—"

Before I was even aware I wanted to voice the question, my hand was in the air.

Great, way to start your swotty little know-it-all reputation early.

"Yes, Miss…?" Professor Prewett asked, looking at me with a bemused expression.

"Er, Granger, sir. Hermione Granger. You said 'if there's enough time left' we'll learn more. Does that mean we'll be behind when it comes to N.E.W.T. standards?"

He eyed me closely. "Well Hermione, I've found that if you don't have a solid foundation, there's no way you'll be able to move forward. That's why I'm here. If the class works diligently and we're able to move quickly, I see no reason why anyone should be underprepared for their examinations.

"So, I thought we'd start off the year with an informal duel of sorts. As seventh years, I trust you're proficient in nonverbal spell-casting?"

The entire class murmured in agreement.

"Wonderful. I'd like at least fifty percent of every duel in my class to occur nonverbally. Can anyone tell me the advantage of nonverbal spells in dueling?" he asked.

I refrained from raising my hand. Lily's hand, however, shot into the air immediately, as did Alice's and two other Slytherins'. Snape simply looked bored.

Professor Prewett's eyes scanned the class, landing on Lily. "Yes, Lily?"

"Your adversary has no warning about what kind of magic you're about to perform, which gives you a split-second advantage," she said in a slight rush. Professor Prewett looked pleased at her verbatim definition.

"Exactly. I love when a class is prepared! Five points to Gryffindor." Lily grinned. "So, now I'd like for you all to stand and find a dueling partner," he said, pointing his wand to the chalkboard again. It rose into the air and glided back until it was flush with the wall. "And not the person sitting next to you, either. I'd like for you to pair with someone outside of your usual."

The entire class stood, and Professor Prewett waved his wand again, causing the desks and chairs to soar toward the wall, landing in neat stacks, and the school bags to fly to the back of the room.

"That includes you too, James and Sirius," Professor Prewett called out, and everyone snickered.

I glanced around the room, searching for a familiar face. Marlene and Mary were already facing one another, wands held loosely at their sides, awaiting further instruction. It appeared the Marauders had simply swapped, with James partnering with Peter and Sirius with Remus. The Slytherins were pairing off as well, and it seemed there were only three Gryffindors remaining—me, Lily, and Alice.

And one final Slytherin.

—Snape.

Shit.

Lily seemed to be unaware of this unfortunate turn of events, however, and turned to me, saying, "Hermione, you can partner with Alice, and I'll take whoever is left. What do you think?"

She must've noticed my slightly panicked expression, because she then turned to see who her partner would be. Her eyes took on the same alarmed look as mine, and I knew there was no way I could allow this to occur.

"No, no, you and Alice stay over here," I told her, placing a hand on her arm reassuringly. "I'll partner with Severus, okay?"

She opened her mouth to object, but rather than give her the opportunity, I quickly crossed the classroom to stand in front of Severus. He gave me the same haughty once over as he had in the corridor, and said softly for only me to hear, "Wonderful. I'm stuck with the fucking new girl."

Arching an eyebrow at his blatant incivility, I replied silkily, "And I'm stuck with the arse-face. However, the difference is I'm not complaining about it."

He glowered down at me, but his demeanor relaxed slightly, and I could tell he respected me a bit more for not quailing at his comment.

Fucking overgrown bat—Hermione Granger is anything but timid.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sirius struggling to reach me and Severus, likely desiring to intervene, but Remus was gripping his arm, restraining him with a hissed warning of—"Just wait."

"Alright everyone, now that you've all found partners, spread out across the room! You'll need enough space to move around," Professor Prewett shouted over the noise of the class.

Severus and I broke away from the others and moved to the back corner of the room, all the while never breaking eye contact. I tossed my hair over my shoulders as we walked. He pushed up the sleeves of his robes.

"We're only aiming to disarm, but be creative with how you get there! I need to see what you can do. No banned hexes, no dark curses, and—it goes without saying—NO Unforgivables," said Professor Prewett sternly as his eyes roved over the class. "I trust you all know proper dueling etiquette? Alright—face your partners." There was a shuffling throughout the room as the class prepared. "Now, bow."

I stared into Severus's black eyes as we both bent low before each other, and I noticed they were different than I remembered. In the future, his eyes had been nothing but cold. Now, however, they were alight with curiosity. He wanted to know what the new girl was capable of. I felt a sinking sensation in my gut—I was very unlikely to win this duel. Although Harry had taught me a great deal over the past few years, I was aware that I wasn't the most skilled when it came to combat.

"Wands at the ready!"

We both raised our wands, arms steady and sure. My wand grew warm in my palm—releasing the same pleasant heat it had on the day I'd won it properly, as if reassuring me that it was ready as well. Confidence surged throughout my body, flooding my arteries, saturating my nerves.

I smirked.

"Ready?" Snape mouthed to me, his face full of something close to excitement.

I winked in response.

His eyes widened slightly and he smirked too.

"On the count of three, you may begin your duel—one… two… THREE!"


(A/N): I thought I'd give a little look from Sirius's perspective, just to change things up a bit. Let me know if you like it, and I'll include a few more bits like it in the upcoming chapters. Thank you for reading, and please leave a review to let me know what you think! Oh, and special thanks to my beta (aka my wonderful boyfriend) for helping me figure out what exactly should being going on in Sirius's brain.

:)
-liz