Exactly one hour and thirty-two minutes later (she knew this because the gaudy owl clock nestled between the loo rolls had told her so) Hermione found herself coaxed out of the bathroom like a frightened animal and herded back towards the living room where she currently sat on the couch, buried beneath a heavy quidditch quilt and clinging tightly to the purring kneazle—"This adorable little monster is Elvendork!"—as the adults tried to pry answers from her. Mercifully Dumbledore had been quarantined to the garden where the Aurors had flitted off to and barred by the backs of the present Marauders, blocking him from view even in the window, much to his chagrin.

Hermione winced again as she felt more than saw Dumbledore try to pry into her mind; the walls she had built during her occlumency/legilimency lessons way back when (Harry was terrible at explaining things, but thankfully books had always been her saviour) slowly crumbling away with each battering of the ram. There was something to be said about the stubbornness of old men. Lily, who had been running a cursory check-up of the girl, asked of her again what was wrong when she saw the expression upon the young witch's face but Hermione just buried her face into Elvendork's scruff and tried to focus on barring Dumbledore from her mind.

"…Honey, honey, please we need you to answer some questions for us, okay?" Lily tried again, her tone soft and gentle as she crouched in front of Hermione with hands barely hovering over her knees. Hermione looked up from the ginger fur but did not answer. "Can you tell us your name, at least?"

"What about your family?" James tried when his wife got no answer. "Where are they? Do they know where you are?"

"How old is she, anyway?" Sirius puzzled, head tilted in question as he studied the frightened girl on the Potter's couch.

"Can't be any older than 12 or 13" Remus replied, nostrils flaring as if he was discerning her age by scent alone.

"Mate, how'd she even find this place?" Sirius then turned to James, their questions for the girl forgotten for a moment.

"I dunno" James shrugged uselessly. "She just turned up in the middle of the night"

"What? You think she apparated here or something?"

"She'd have to be some kind of genius to do that without splinching herself"

"And what about the wards?"

"I dunno, mate, your guess is as good as mine"

Hermione couldn't help but feel proud at that and a smirk fought its way onto her lips at the comment about her intelligence. Yes, she was technically a 135 year old woman in the body of a 13 year old; but she had also been heralded as the Brightest Witch of Her Age for most of her school career, so there was at least some merit to the Marauders' comments. Not that they would know that, of course, all they saw was a frightened child.

Then again, she couldn't quite believe her eyes or ears as she sat all bundled up on the couch. She had always been one of an analytical mind, despite her brash tendencies and even with her experience with time travel in the past (or future?) she still felt far out of her depth. She'd been aiming for the summer of her fourth year when the Triwizard tournament had ended the metaphorical shit had hit the fan quite hard.

Of course, she knew that tinkering with dark and ancient magics was something only stupid and/or brave mages did—one could argue that it was both—but her thirst for knowledge had always outweighed those limitations. And of course, there was the whole, don't-let-your-friends-die-stupidly-dangerous-deaths-thing that she had going on. Honestly, it was a wonder they hadn't died already. Or worse, been expelled (even now, she could hear Ron's voice in her mind telling her to sort out her priorities).

And yet here she was staring into the concerned eyes of Lily Potter (neé Evans), mother to her best friend, Harry J. Potter; someone who was alive and well. She's so young. Hermione blinked dumbly. Sure, she'd heard the various stories over the years and Harry had that old photo album that Hagrid had given him their first year, but actually looking her in the face kind of hurt.

James was no better; in fact he might've been worse. Looking at him was like staring Harry in the face (but without the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead or the sea-green eyes of his mother) and she could practically picture Ron hanging off of his shoulder with hair tied back to show his war scars as the pair laughed over something stupid, argued about some quidditch team or strong-armed each other into another game of Wizard's chess.

The guilt over not keeping in touch with her two best friends, resurged once more. The last time she could think of even seeing them all together was at the last Weasley gathering where they had announced their first pregnancy. Mrs Weasley had been overjoyed for them and Ron still stupidly overprotective of his sister. The only other fuss that had erupted that night was Mrs Weasley's reaction to George's recently dyed hair; gone was the family red and instead replaced with the blue of his nephew, Teddy. It wasn't until later, when Hermione had gone to fetch a cup of tea that she'd seen George weeping into his mother's arms as he cried about seeing his dead twin in the mirror each morning when he awoke.

Blinking back tears, she turned her attention to the two canines of the group. Hermione had heard countless tales of Sirius being the ladies' man of the group, bedding and flirting with more girls than you could ever count. In fact, at one point, the weathered canine had brought up the fact that it had been Lily who had started the betting pool between their friends over the end of his skirt-chasing days. Sirius, of course (likely to spite his parents who begged for grandchildren), bet on never. A notion which had been backed up by Peter, if only because he was a follower of the popular and powerful.

Lily had thought him old and grey, pushed around in a wheelchair by a much younger wife whilst James had gone for knocking up some hooker. Remus hadn't betted, but instead supposedly given a secretive and knowing smirk when offered to join the bet. Which was starting to make more sense now that she watched Sirius practically cling to Remus like he was a koala in a tree; honestly the man had just about flung himself completely on top of the werewolf (who appeared unbothered by it) like he was trying to make a puppy pile in the middle of the living room.

And last but not least, there was Harry himself who sat nestled in the Jolly Jumper which hung from the archway that bordered the living and dining rooms. He bore no scar as she had observed before and his ridiculously bright onesie sat stark against the background of the room behind him. It was odd seeing him like this, so little and helpless. Hermione smiled fondly as she watched Harry giggle and gabble about unknown things and he waved his little fists in the air, talking to whomever would listen. It was a sweet scene and something that struck a chord with her, pulling her thoughts into the dim and dark.

She knew that if there was a Harry Potter alive, well and toddler right here, then that meant there was a Hermione J. Granger somewhere in Hampstead born of curls and gummy teeth. She couldn't be that Hermione anymore and it saddened her. Logically she knew that her past self—her original self—would still get the same experiences (hopefully without the yearly death threats) but it wouldn't be her. She would be Jean Granger (named for her long-deceased aunt) alone in a world that was not her own. It was then that Hermione knew she would have to say goodbye to Hermione, to the girl that embodied that name and all it entailed.

"—Guys, guys! Oi! Dipsticks! Just back up a minute, okay?" Lily snappily interjected through all the conversations and layered voices.

"Yes ma'am!" Both James and Sirius saluted the muggleborn, standing to attention as they jumped back a step or two to avoid crowding around the girls. Hermione didn't know if it was supposed to be comical or if it was just years of conditioning that had them falling into line, but either way small and hoarse giggles fell from her lips that she tried to muffle in Elvendork's fluff. The kneazle in question, seemed to have given up on any attempts to escape and just sort of slumped over in her grip like a ragdoll that occasionally rumbled with a purr.

"Hey, hey" Lily tried again as those present snapped to attention at the sound of her laughter. Hermione could've almost sworn that both of the canines' nonexistent ears perked up at the sound as their invisible tails wagged like excitable puppies. In turn, Hermione sank back in to the couch and hugged Elvendork close as if she would defend her from the strange people before her. "Hey, no, no, hey. It's okay, it's okay, we're not gonna hurt you. My name's Lily" She pointed to herself before she gestured to each of the Marauders in turn. "And that's James, Remus and Sirius"

"Hey kitten" Sirius smiled in kind, the grin all teeth. She felt tears bead in the corners of her eyes at the familiar nickname. Of course, the last time the animagus had presented her with such a name was after the umpteenth retelling of their escapade with the Polyjuice Potion in Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom in second year. Harry & Ron had never let her live that bloody mistake down, even as they'd grown old. Damn cat hairs!

"Way to go dumbass, you made her cry again!" Remus whacked Sirius over the back of the head in a more playful manner than anything reprimanding.

"I didn't mean to!" Sirius whined pitifully, rubbing the spot as he pouted like a petulant child.

"If you lot can't calm down, you can go outside with the others!" Lily snapped over her shoulder before turning back to the young witch. "Can you tell us your name, sweetie?"

"…Jean" Hermione eventually mumbled her middle name. It sounded sad even to her own ears.

"Jean?" Remus reiterated, being the only one who could actually catch the quiet reply.

"Jean? Is that right? Jean?" Lily spared a glance over her shoulder at the werewolf to doublecheck that she'd heard right. "Hi Jean"

"…Hi" Hermione Jean waved shyly in response, her voice no louder than it was a moment before.

"So she does talk" Remus noted with a tilt of his head and Sirius under his arm, struggling to get free.

"Jean" Lily continued as if the two weren't currently trying to lock each other in headlocks behind her. "Can you tell me how you found this place?"

"…Th—there…there was a funny man at—at the bus stop" She replied and although she had yet to meet that wretched man in this timeline, she was more than ready to throw the absentee Marauder under the bus as she stared resolutely at the cat in her hands. She just hoped that they took it for fear or nerves and not her attempt to mask her lies. She never had been the best liar.

"Funny man?" James pursued, brows furrowed as he latched onto that little piece of information.

"He—he said he had friends out here who—who could help…"

"Who was the funny man, Jean?"

"He was funny-looking"

"What makes you say that?" Sirius asked next as he spared a startled and concerned look with James as much as he could from Remus' grip. Clearly the two thought she was cahoots with someone dangerous.

"He—he had these big buck teeth and a scary tattoo." She stammered, hands wringing together in Elvendork's scruff as she fought to rub at her nose—her tell tale sign for whenever she was lying through her teeth. "And—and he kept making these weird noises and he smelt like bad milk & cheese & mushrooms…Do mushrooms even have a smell?"

"…J-Jean—Jean, sweetheart" Lily stuttered, eyes wide and hands shaking slightly where they hovered above her knees. "What—what was the tattoo?"

"Huh?" Jean hummed, sparing a glance upwards.

"The f-funny man's tattoo—what was it & where?"

"Um, it—it was, uh, it was a big snake on his arm" She innocently blinked up at the adults. "Why?"

Blank and pale faces stared back at her as sharp intakes of air hissed throughout the room, grabbing her attention. Again, Jean did her best to hide her smug reaction from the adults, this time chewing at her lower lip in an attempt to hide the smirk threatening to appear on her lips. That would not be good.

After the young witch—Jean—had dropped the bombshell that was her helper in finding the safe house, the Marauders had all reconvened in the adjoining kitchen so as to talk privately whilst still keeping an eye on the children. Harry was more than content to bounce up & down in his Jolly Jumper whilst Jean had toppled over to the side, cuddled around Elvendork like she was a teddy bear. It appeared that their little interrogation had taken more out of the young witch that they'd expected as she gone back to sleep as soon as her head hit the cushions.

"It—it couldn't be…" Lily had gone pale with fingers clenching tight to the kitchen counter as if she would topple over at any moment. "Right?"

"Wormtail…" James whimpered, sounding unsure even as he considered the idea that one of his best mates had turned traitor and sold them to the Dark Lord.

"That rat bastard!" Sirius growled, eyes flashing to that of his animagus in his barely concealed rage as he paced back and forth. The dog, apparently, was the only one who did believe in such an action taking place.

"Wait—wait!" Remus waved his hands as he tried to sort through all the madness and heightened emotions of everyone else (The utter smugness & relief rolling off of Jean both confused & startled him. But it was quickly lost beneath the overwhelming panic, grief and despair of his friends that was driving his wolf mad). "Has anyone actually seen Pete recently?"

"Not since the last full moon…" James replied.

"No, no, remember he missed the last cycle 'cause his Mum's been sick" Lily reminded her husband.

"Oh yeah"

"Is his Mum actually sick? I mean, has anyone talked to her?" Sirius paused for a moment as if the thought had just occurred to him.

"What are saying? Do you think that Pete made all that up or something?"

"I mean, if what she said was true—"

"—She could've been mistaken! It was dark! It could've been anyone!"

"Pete was your real Secret Keeper, Prongs, remember? How could it not have been anyone else?"

"This is insane!" Remus thread his fingers through his hair in frustration, "Do we really think that Wormtail is a turncoat? I mean, Peter—our friend—the little Gryffindor who couldn't even hit the backside of a barn door with a bludger? That Peter Pettigrew?"

"Well, then why would he be at the bus stop, Moony?" Sirius threw back at the werewolf. "Why would he even be here? It wasn't his turn for patrol and why would a Secret Keeper even need to be in the same vicinity as their charges? Wouldn't that be detrimental to the whole Secret-Keeping thing?"

"It just—it sounds like you want him to be working for You-Know-Who" Remus retorted.

"I—I don't—that's not—I'm not saying that!" Sirius choked at the accusation, spinning on his heel to face the other canine. "I'm just saying, don't you find it suspicious that he's mysteriously missing every other week but when a young witch and You-Know-Who just happens to show up, he suddenly reappears?"

Silence followed his words as the idea that one of their best mates—one quarter of the Marauders—was actually a turncoat all along seemed to sink in. Numerous questions fluttered through the minds of the distraught Gryffindors. How long had he been a turncoat? Had he always been a traitor? Did Dumbledore know? Perhaps he was like Snape? Was he double agent for the Order? Or was it the other way around?

The deathly quiet seemed to stretch on for an age until movement beyond the front window caught Lily's attention. Her expression soured further and her cheeks grew red in frustration when she saw that their nosey headmaster was all-but pressed up against the window alongside their equally eccentric neighbour. "Gimme that" Lily abruptly turned to snatch the soapy wooden spoon James had picked up from the sink to fiddle with at some point. Gripping tight to the handle of the utensil, she marched towards the front door, glad that something so benign as their headmaster & neighbour likely trampling her flowers had appeared to distract her from her depressing thoughts.

"Where're you going, love…?" James hedged as he peered after his irate wife.

"To yell at a pair of Peeping Toms!" Lily gestured wildly with the wooden spoon as she went. Sirius had to duck out of the way of her wayward limbs. "They better not be trampling my petunias!"

"Think she'll be all right?" Remus worried as the men turned to watch the red head greet the two pressed up against the glass of the front room.

"I'm more worried about Dumbledore & Bagshot" Sirius hummed in reply, "Lily's a menace with a wooden spoon"

"Well, you would know" James grinned.

"Oi!"

"Mm" Remus hummed in agreement as they watched the little redhead chase the two elder mages from the Potter's front lawn like they were a pair of gnomes digging around in the bins. "Wooden spoon, more dangerous than any wand in the hands of a woman"

"And utterly terrifying in the hands of a witch"

"Like I said"