Disclaimer: Not mine. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling...Warner Brothers...yada yada yada

Warnings: None.

Pairings: None yet. So, the story is slow. Bite me.

A/N: First and foremost (as always) my thanks goes out to those who reviewed:

AniMourner, Haisobi, Mockingbird Silenced (Nemesis), ~~Fires~Blood~~, Chrissy, Tiger Lily, The Marauders' Seducer (BloodyAngel??), starkitty, Baz (Bubbles-Gaz), ~*~Crystal Clear~*~, Indiana jones, and Nicole.

Special thanks to everyone who has reviewed regularly. I really appreciate it...honest, I do.

To Tiger Lily: Although I can't think of any time-turner fics off the top of my head, I'm sure you'll find some if you narrow the Harry Potter archives to have it only show fics where Hermione and a Marauder are the main characters. Sorry I couldn't be more helpful.

To Indiana jones: I honestly don't know the correct pronunciations of any of the names (it's like final fantasy all over again...), but I always thought Sirius' name was "sih-ree-is". And I really don't know if and when those things are going to happen...

To everyone who asked: I'm still not too sure what the pairing is. Hermione and James are probably going to be the main characters though...

To everyone: I'm sorry I made everyone wait so long...it's been two weeks since my last post, and I usually post after one week. However, RL has been a bit uncooperative. I've a bit of a writer's block (I've been struggling to get this fic out despite that, I hope you don't notice how strained it is...), there's a big hole in the roof due to the pipes bursting, part of my living room being flooded as another result, many birthdays coming up (including my own), one of which I have to write a fic for, causing further delays with this fic. Last but not least, MIDTERMS are this month and I'm a bit stressed...However, despite all that. I hope you enjoy this chapter. It's...much longer than the previous ones...

---

Warm hands covered her eyes as she blindly stumbled forward. She felt intermittent nudges on her shoulder, guiding her to the right direction. Finally, the hands were removed, but her eyes remained shut. The sudden light was bright.

"You can open your eyes, sweetheart."

She did.

There, amidst the white of the snow on the ground, was a red bicycle. It wasn't much. In fact, it was rather plain and humble. It had but one basket in the front and homemade ribbons carefully tied to the handles. The red paint was dull and the tires looked slightly deflated. The training wheels looked crooked.

"Merry Christmas, Hermione."

Tears started to gather in Hermione's eyes before she turned around, threw her arms around her mother's waist, and began crying into her skirt.

Her parents exchanged worried glances. "What's wrong, sweetie?" her father began gently. "We...we know it isn't much, and we know you wanted the blue one with the little bell and--"

Hermione only cried harder, walking slowly over to father. He picked her up, slowly stroking her hair and murmuring quiet reassurances.

Hermione's mother came to stand beside her husband, sadly tucking a lock of dirty blonde hair behind Hermione's ear. "We promise that we'll buy that one for you, sweetheart. Once we get the money--" she paused when Hermione sniffled and shook her head. "Well, isn't a bicycle what you want?" A nod this time. "Well then, what's the matter? Is there another bicycle you like?"

The little girl sniffled louder and shook her head. "The Christmas present I got Mummy and Daddy is ugly. I was coloring it and then Mrs. Lindman's cat came over and I was playing with it but it had mud all over its feet and then it walked all over the picture." Tears started to brim over once more. "It's messed up. It's ugly."

Her parents looked visibly relieved. Mrs. Granger smiled warmly, "Will you let mummy see it?"

Hermione sniffled, "But it's ugly."

Her mother caressed her cheek lovingly, "I'm sure it's fine, sweetie." So, Hermione reluctantly reached into the front pocket of her overalls and pulled out a piece of folded paper. She handed it to her mother.

Mrs. Granger carefully unfolded her daughter's drawing. It was a picture of herself, her husband and her daughter holding hands next to a big Christmas tree. Under them read the words, "Happy Christmas! Ho ho ho!"

It was only half colored, and colored completely out of the lines. Dark brown paw prints were scattered all over the surface, one completely covering the "a" in "Happy". There were tear stains, too, dripped on the right side.

Mrs. Granger realized her vision began to blur, and cold tracks were being made down her cheek. She trembled a little as she handed the picture over to her husband.

After staring at it a moment, he wrapped Hermione tighter into his warm embrace. His voice was muffled by Hermione's hair when he spoke. "It's the most beautiful picture I've ever seen, Hermione."

And every word was true.


---

Hermione looked at her blaring alarm clock with sleep-fogged eyes. The blurry red numbers read 7:00. She turned it off and was immediately met with blissful silence. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back onto her pillows. She sighed. Nothing more than a soft exhalation of breath that somehow managed to lift a great weight from her chest.

Where did that dream come from?

It wasn't so much a dream, more like a memory. The third Christmas of her short life. The memory was still crisp and she could still hear the crunching of the snow beneath her feet as she ran to her new bicycle. She could still feel the biting cold wind on her face as she rode faster and faster and faster...

She'd been so happy that she rode on her present for hours and hours. The road had been slippery though, and she'd ended up with her very first scraped knee by the end of the day. She'd had to stay indoors for the following two weeks as it healed. It was then that she picked up her first real book and got a taste of literature...

She sighed again at the memory. She couldn't even spend Christmas with the parents that sacrificed so much for her. It had been, after all, their first year out of college and they only barely got by with the money they made. They'd saved up, eating sparingly and walking to work instead of driving or taking the train, just so they could buy her a bicycle. "It's healthier to walk!" they'd said. "Are you sure that's what you want?" they'd asked.

Hermione frowned, all she'd given them that year was an ugly, ruined drawing. And yet, they'd been so happy...

"Oh, don't be so gloomy!" came a lively exclamation. Hermione found herself face to face with a widely smiling redhead. "Only two days 'til holiday break, you should be happy!"

Hermione blinked before offering her own small smile. "Good morning, Lily. I'm sorry, I was just feeling a little homesick."

"Oh...is it because you had to move before transfering here?" Lily made herself comfortable, sitting cross-legged on the brunette's bed.

"Y-yeah..." Hermione looked away. She felt bad for lying to Lily. She was so nice and friendly, after all.

"Do cheer up, Hermione, " Lily gently tipped her chin up with a warm smile. "Oh, I do wish there had been a powerful Greek god of gaiety! Then I could say something wickedly cool, like "May you be blessed by Gaudium himself!" Lily laughed, "Though I suppose the Greeks weren't too much of an optimistic bunch. I've read too many stories revolving around the wrath of their gods to believe that..."

Hermione found herself laughing also. She wasn't sure why, it really wasn't that funny. She relaxed a little in her blankets. It was perhaps just nice to speak with someone who wasn't an arrogant git, in this time that was so far away from home.

"Yes, I suppose you're right," Hermione paused, pondering on how she would phrase her next words. "Ah...thank you. I feel much better now."

There. Short and simple.

The redhead grinned, waving her hand lightly in the air. "It's not a problem. I wouldn't want our new student to feel bad on her first actual day here." She glanced at the clock, "Oh, we should go get ready now, if we don't want to be late for breakfast."

Lily hopped off the bed and made her way to the bathroom.

Hermione was rubbing out what sleep was left in her eyes when something occurred to her. "What class do we have first? I forgot to ask Headmaster Dumbledore for the schedule when I spoke with him."

"Double Potions with the Slytherins," was the reply. Hermione could hear the disgust in the other girl's voice, even though her words were muffled by a toothbrush. "You should be careful around some in particular," Lily paused. A splash of water against the sink could be heard. "Severus Snape and his lackeys. Bullies, the bunch of them!" Another pause and splash of water. "Though I suppose he has reason to be so cross and sour all the time. Just the thought of how greasy his hair is makes me cringe!"

The clinking of a toothbrush tossed into a cup was heard. Now, the rustle of a towel. "Why, I wouldn't be surprised if he simply dumped a tub of lard on his head every morning!"

Hermione could help but laugh at the mental image of Professor Snape that Lily so generously provided. "Oh, Lily! That's terrible!"

Said girl finally walked into view once more, a grin on her lips. "Don't laugh and tell me I'm terrible, Hermione! I'm afraid you're equally so!"

Hermione then went into the vacant bathroom. She'd only started applying toothpaste to her brush (Lily's mother packed extras. "Just in case.") when Lily began to barrage her with questions regarding her dinner with the Marauders.

"I think you should stay away from them, Hermione. Truly! They're a horrible bunch! Always breaking the rules, they are! Sneaking out almost every night! Oh--don't ask me how I know. I just do. It's a wonder they never get caught! You'd think they'd have some magical radar system, for-for detecting professors' presences or something!"

Hermione grinned wryly, her auburn-haired friend didn't know how right she was. She instead remarked, "Lily, surely you don't believe that! That's impossible!"

---

Professor Mason was a great deal better than Professor Snape in his best mood. But then again, Professor Mason wasn't the head of the Slytherin house. Hermione'd raised her hand for every question that was asked, as she always did, and he actually called on her most of the time. Thus, Potions had been bearable, enjoyable even. At least, it would've been if not for one Severus Snape.

"So, you're the new girl. Granger, is it?"

The words came from a scrawny boy with incredibly oily hair and an equally oily voice. His black hair was slicked back and tied into a small ponytail. His thin lips were curved into a condescending smirk.

Well, Hermione reflected wryly, he hasn't changed too much.

"Yes, my name Hermione Granger. Now, I'll ask you to please leave. Some people actually want to make the potion," were her curt words. She proceeded to ignore him and added the sixteen beetle legs the potion called for, outwardly inexpressive. In actuality, however, she was silently rejoicing even such a small victory over her former Potions professor.

"You think you're so clever, don't you, know-it-all Granger? A mudblood who sucks up to the teacher, do they ever get more pathetic than that?" sneered Snape, barely covering his anger.

Hermione opened her mouth to retort but was interrupted by a calm voice from her right. "Just because she has at least half a brain doesn't mean she's a know-it-all or a suck-up. No need to be jealous, Snape. I'm sure that lump you call your brain will develop into something recognizable eventually."

She turned to find Remus with a deceptively polite smile curving his lips, as if he'd just finished complimenting Snape on his cloak rather than attempting an insult at his intelligence.

Snape's eyes narrowed balefully, "Listen, wolf-boy--"

His threatening words were cut short, though, when Professor Mason clapped his hands and requested everyone to return to their seats.

Snape snarled and swiveled around, stalking away. Remus only continued smiling and waved. Hermione shot a look at her "savior" from the corner of her eyes once he went back to his potion.

"I thought you wanted to concentrate on your potion?" came the question.

Hermione started, a bit embarrassed that she'd been caught staring. She said the first thing that came to her mind: "I didn't need your help. I could've defended myself just fine."

There, I've made a fool of myself now. Acting like an ungrateful git.

Remus turned away from his cauldron to look at her. He had blue eyes, Hermione realized. Pale, ice blue eyes. Ones that laughed, and she couldn't help but feel that they were laughing at her.

"I'm sure you could've. Hermione Granger can do just about everything, can't she?"

"Now, I didn't say--"

"You're welcome, by the way," Remus interrupted, looking amused.

Hermione looked away, cheeks heating from anger at both herself and Remus. "Thank you."

Remus only smiled and turned back to his potion.

---

It was odd, seeing a younger version of Professor McGonagall. Of course, it had been odd seeing a younger version of just about everyone in this warped reality. Even so, Hermione had to admit; her beloved professor was very, very different. Her shimmering tresses were golden brown, not a trace of gray, pinned up loosely. Her skin was smooth and without blemish, unlike that of the McGonagall of Hermione's time, which was creased with tired wrinkles. There was a light in her eyes, too, that had been missing in those that Hermione remembered.

"Good morning, class. I trust you had a pleasant weekend?" A chorus of "yes"'s, "no"'s and even a muttered "damn it all!" were her reply. The corners of the young professor's mouth twitched barely. "Daniel, you know I won't allow such language in my classroom. 5 points from Gryffindor, and you'll have your own mouth to thank."

Hermione smiled faintly. Some things just didn't change. Professor McGonagall's strictness was one of them.

Professor McGonagall clapped her hands together. "Now that I've taken the house points for the day, let us begin. I'll be pairing everyone up, and you and your partner will be working together to transfigure your desks into small balsam firs." She pushed up her glasses and started reading off the pairs. "Alina Fides and David Taylor. Thomas Greene and Susan Vitas. Fred Lamb and Daniel Mao. Hermione Granger and Sirius Black. Michael Kelly and..."

Hermione's small mouth pursed into a small frown. Typical. It was just typical. Well, no one ever accused me of being lucky.

She started to pack her things so she could move to sit near her new partner, but her task was interrupted when a book sack was dropped heavily onto her desk. "Sirius is here, baby."

Hermione had the strongest urge to roll her eyes. "I suppose we should get started after you've unpacked. The task is quite simple, if a bit time-consuming. It's difficult trying to get them to be the right size..."

The sack was slid off the desk, making room for Sirius to prop his feet up as he said with a half-grin, "What, no chit-chat? Don't you want to get to know me better?"

"Actually, no. I'd rather not. In fact, I reckon it would be best if we stay together only for duration of this period, and try to stay as far away from each other as possible after this class ends," was the matter-of-fact reply.

The dark-haired boy eyed her for a moment before shrugging, "As you wish, Your Majesty."

I'll pretend I didn't hear that. She gently set her own bag down on the floor, clearing the desk of everything except her wand. Picking it up, she gave it a few experimental flicks before pausing, as if she remembered something. "Oh, and remember, you pronounce the words MEN-sa BAL-sa-mam, not Men-SA BAL-sa-mam. I really don't want to have my desk exploding. Surely, that would look bad on my record, not to mention the fact that it might damage the essay I've written for Potions..."

Sirius almost seemed to glare at her before looking away, muttering, "I know that. I'm not stupid." He then took his own wand out of his bag. It was thick and seemed to be made of rich, deep reddish brown mahogany. He swished it and tapped on the tan-colored table three times.

"Mensa Balsamam."

The words were breathed rather than spoken, barely heard over the soft exhalation of breath that followed. They melted together and danced in the air. They grew, grew, and grew in intensity, eventually enveloping the whole desk itself into its embrace. The moan of the wood was almost audible as it began to change shape, as if being molded by invisible hands.

In moments, the rude, indistinct form that had been Hermione's desk transformed into something vaguely recognizable. Then, more and more, and more as details began to write themselves on the body.

Deep green needles abruptly burst forth from stretching branches as the first oval of a cone formed. Soon, the whiskered branches were heavily laden with the fruit.

"It's...it's p-perfect!" Hermione started in quiet awe, "We only have to get it a bit smaller and then..."

"All in a day's work for Sirius Black, baby," he cracked his knuckles and flashed a grin, looking as if he would do the victory sign at any moment.

Hermione did roll her eyes this time. Exasperation crept into her next words. "No need to get cocky. Now, are you quite done yet?"

"Just a moment." Sirius' grin widened for a moment before he ran halfway across the room to James. They seemed to trade a few words and grins before high-fiving each other. Sirius led his friend to the tree, and their words began to grow audible to Hermione as they drew nearer.

"A beaut, isn't she?"

"Indeed! If it weren't for my own, I'd say yours was the best one in this room!"

"True enough, though I must admit that your fir's needles aren't quite so green as mine, Prongs my friend!"

"Yes, but just look at the texture of your bark! Not nearly as smooth as mine!"

"...You are aware that balsam firs are supposed to have rough bark?"

"Yes, but how else would I get a one-up on you?"

The two boys shared grins at this, almost as if there was some great inside joke involved. Hermione only watched on, confused.

James then dropped unceremoniously into Sirius' seat, abnormally long arms and legs splayed just about everywhere. He leaned back slightly, balancing himself on the two back legs of the chair. "So, how's my favorite muggle-born?" he paused, as if to wait for her answer, but the other black-haired wizard, now leaning on the back of Hermione's chair, answered for her. "Just peachy. Real friendly too. A bit too forward for my tastes though."

"Honestly?" James' eyebrows rose in mock surprise. "Darling little Hermione?"

Sirius crossed his arms with a grim nod. "Honest. She doesn't look it, does she? Although you know what they say. It's the quiet ones you have to look out for."

Hermione sniffed and ignored them, turning her attention to the oversize tree. Who knew Harry's father and Sirius at fifteen would be so irritating?

---

"Wait up, will you."

When Hermione showed no signs of stopping or slowing down, James sped up until he caught up to her. He hoisted the strap of his book sack so it wouldn't drag on the floor and eventually fell into step with her. "Returning to the common room so soon? Don't you want to watch us practice? I look wicked on a broomstick. Besides, we're quite good, and I'm not bluffing for once."

She halted and tilted her head with her brow raised, "And how am I to know you're not bluffing now, if you admit to bluffing all the time?"

The black-haired wizard only grinned, "Quite the smart mouth, aren't you, Miss Granger?"

"No," a smirk somehow found it's way on her own mouth, "I believe your mouth just isn't smart enough."

James gave a shocked laugh, seeming somehow satisfied, "Do my ears decieve me? Did Hermione Granger just make a joke?? Surely this is the end of the world as we know it!"

Hermione made an annoyed noise, "Don't you have somewhere to be? Like...at practice?? What are you doing here?? I'm not going. Why anyone would want to risk hurting themselves over something as ridiculous as a sport is beyond me! Besides, I have work to do."

"What, your essay for Potions? Your reading for Defense Against the Dark Arts? Didn't you finish all your homework by the end of lunch already?" he said with a skeptical smile.

The bushy-haired witch frowned. "How did you know that?"

"Lily. That's what she always does," James said with a small roll of eyes.

"Then why don't you go bother her??"

"Oh, what a question! You think I'm this nice to everyone?? Can't I just feel compelled to make the new student feel welcome?" he cried indignantly. He paused. Hermione stared. James grinned. "Ok, fine, it's because you're cuter."

Hermione glared, "You are such a shallow pig--"

"Oh, just come on and loosen up, would you?" James didn't wait for an answer, instead proceeding to lead her by the hand to the Quidditch field. He had no qualms about dragging her halfway across the school if he had to. The girl needed to do some lightening up!

"Oh--just where do think you're taking me?? I do not need loosening up, thank you very much! Now, let me go, Harry, before--"

"James."

"James, before I hex you so--"

"Hermione."

The girl in question glared. "Yes?"

"Hermione, I admit it. It's my fault. I take it completely upon myself."

"What are you talking about??"

"From this day on, I take it completely upon myself to loosen you up."

"What?? Oh--you know what? I don't want to know. Just leave me alone...Will this day ever end?"

"Oh but, my dear Hermione, this is just the beginning." Hermione was frightened. James' eyes had taken on a decidedly determined gleam.

"As a proud Marauder, I, James Potter, swear that I will show you the time of your life, Hermione Granger."

"Y-you...wh..." was the confused and incoherent reply. "I...Well, what does being a Marauder have to do with anything??"

"Well, Marauders never break their promises, you know. Besides, being a Marauder, I solemnly swear," James grinned mischievously, "that I am up to no good."

A pair of chocolate brown eyes rolled. "Oh, that's reassuring."

"Come along now, you've made me late for practice."

A hand tugged a hand.

"I've made you late??"

A grin met a frown.

The beginning of a beautiful friendship?

"You say yes and I kill you."

"Yes."

Perhaps not.

-----

Voila. There it is. The fourth chapter. I'm incredibly tired. Notes on the chapter: no, Snape does not know Remus' secret, "wolf-boy" was merely a reference to his name, which is similar to "lupine". I know Guadium is not greek, it's latin. If anyone knows the greek translation for happiness, by all means, tell me.

Notes on the fic: I'm working really hard on this fic..and well...this writer's block just isn't working...and I don't really know where this is going...Oh, I don't know...I was thinking about discontinuing this fic. Honestly. I hope to at least post on my birthday, and then...we'll see from there. I don't think I'm meant for chapter fics, and as much as I hate to see my first Harry Potter fic go...What am I thinking? People don't even read this.

Onto other topics, I'm in need of a BETA reader for my fics. So, if there's anyone who's reading this and wants to apply, just send me an email at midnitestar45@aol.com Also, if you're going to send me an email, please put somewhere in the subject line "fanfiction.net" or "BETA", because I'm afraid I might delete it, thinking it to be junk mail. By the way, you have to at least be okay with shounen ai/yaoi and slash (though I doubt I'll ever write slash...). To those who don't know, that's where guys like guys. "Eww! That's disgusting! Pervert!"? I know. If you agree, you shouldn't apply. A LOT of my fics will be shounen ai (I doubt I'll ever write anything explicit though).

About reviews: Just...review if you liked it, review if you didn't like it and...if you just don't care about this fic one way or the other, don't review. I'm tired. Maybe I'll change my mind about this fic when I feel better. Sayonara minna-san.

--Silence