Hermione sighed helplessly. "This isn't working."
The three friends were sitting on couches in front of the fire in the Gryffindor common room. Harry refused to talk about Sirius, and snapped at them whenever they mentioned it.
"You go on, Ron, I'll talk to him," Hermione murmured. Ron looked reluctant.
"But ..."
"It's okay, you go ahead and tell Professor McGonagall that we might be a little late."
Ron glanced back at Harry, who was throwing dark looks at the floor, and nodded. "All right, then. See you later." He hurried off.
Hermione turned to her other friend. "Harry, why don't you want to talk about it? It's good to get things like this off your chest, you know."
Harry glared at her. "I don't care! None of you – none of you – can possibly know what I'm feeling right now!"
Hermione looked down at her lap. "I do," she said very softly. Harry stood up.
"You DON'T! It wasn't YOUR parents that were murdered! It wasn't YOUR godfather who was murdered! They were MINE! He was like a second father to me!"
"Harry –"
"YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE!" he roared. "YOUR PARENTS ARE STILL ALIVE AND WELL!"
"Actually, they're divorced," Hermione said coolly. "I haven't seen my father in about eight years. My mom remarried the year that I got my Hogwarts letter."
Harry stopped yelling, but still looked angry.
"And I do know how you're feeling, or at least somewhat. I lost my uncle when I was eight years old. He was like a second father to me when my parents got divorced. He died of cancer."
Harry sat down, slightly stunned. "I – I didn't know your –"
"I know you didn't. I haven't told anyone here except you, now. I didn't want to think about it."
She was still staring at her lap, her hands clenched together so tightly that they were white.
"So ... you mean the man we met ... that's your stepfather?"
"Yes."
There was an awkward pause. The fire crackled in the hearth, making the only sound in the room.
"Sorry," Harry muttered after a while. "Didn't mean to blow up in your face."
"It's okay."
There was another silence. Both teenagers stared at their laps, mulling over their losses.
Hermione looked up slowly, and squeezed his hand briefly before saying quietly, "We'd better get to class. We're already late for Transfiguration, and you know how Professor McGonagall gets ..."
"Yeah. Absolutely. Let's go," Harry said, and stood, stretching. He offered a hand up to his friend, and she took it.
When she was fully upright, he made to let go, but she held on, giving him a small smile.
They climbed through the portrait hole and walked down the empty halls, heading to class.
They didn't talk, but rather walked in comfortable silence, footsteps echoing on the marble floors.
When they reached the hallway just outside Transfiguration, Hermione stopped. Harry stopped too, and glanced at her.
"What?"
"Just – don't tell anyone, okay? About my ... my dad?" she asked in a small voice.
"Not even Ron?"
"No. He'll make such a fuss about it ..."
Harry grinned. "It's true." He smiled warmly at her. "All right, then. Not a soul."
She smiled back. "Thanks."
He slung his arm about her shoulders, squeezed briefly, and walked over to the door, about to knock.
Abruptly, a bundle of walking sticks swooped down out of midair and nearly came crashing down onto Hermione's head. Peeves cackled. Hermione stumbled, trying to duck the canes being pelted at her, and tripped on the edge of a carpet on the floor. She went flying forwards.
Harry's arm came out of nowhere and stopped her fall. They both heard a tiny snap, and the chain around Hermione's neck broke. Though Harry was holding her up, the miniature hourglass that had, until now, hung about her neck crashed to the hard stone floor, and it broke.
Whirls of light and dust streamed forth, and both Harry and Hermione were engulfed in it. A strange spinning sensation came over them both, and the world dissolved before them.
Harry closed his eyes. Spinning so reminded him of Floo powder, of which he was none too fond. When they slowed, he chanced cracking one eye open again, then the other as they stopped turning altogether.
"What happened?" he whispered, standing Hermione upright and steadying her when she stumbled from dizziness.
"Uh – I don't know. Where did Peeves go? He was just here ..." she said.
"Hey – the rug's gone, too," Harry said. They both looked around in bewilderment. "What's going on?"
"My – my Time Turner broke," she said in disbelief. "It was right on the floor – where did the glass go?"
Harry was suddenly reminded of Dudley's birthday six years ago, at the zoo. He remembered the incident with the boa constrictor that he accidentally set free, and the manager of the reptile house had said, "But the glass! Where did the glass go?"
Now the glass from Hermione's Time Turner was gone. Wait – Time Turner?
"Hermione, since when do you have a Time Turner?" Harry asked suddenly, turning to her. "I thought you gave that up after third year."
She shook her head. "I decided that I could handle it again, being three years older, and seeing as I want to do so many subjects, I figured I'd ask Professor Dumbledore again."
"Oh. But – you can't handle it, obviously. You just broke it!"
Hermione blushed. "I was going to repair it, of course, but it's gone. I should go apologize to Professor Dumbledore now, in fact. Come with me?"
"But – but we have Transfiguration, and McGonagall will –"
"I'm hoping that Professor Dumbledore will explain it to her. Now, are you coming?"
Harry sighed and grinned slightly. Hermione could still be bossy when she wanted to. "All right, all right ..." he said, and they started off in the direction of the Headmaster's office.
Behind them, the door opened, and a boy of about their age stepped out of the classroom wearing Gryffindor robes. His black hair fell into his eyes, and he was tall and well built.
Harry and Hermione both stopped and glanced over their shoulders. That's odd, thought Harry. The only Gryffindor boys my age are me, Ron, Seamus, Dean and Neville. Who's he?
The boy saw them, and grinned. "James! Who's this?" he said mockingly, teasing.
Harry frowned. "Uh – I'm not James," he said, his voice choking just slightly. "I'm Harry."
The boy laughed. "Oh, okay. But who's this, then, Harry?" he asked, laughing. Harry's frown deepened.
"Uh – who are you?"
"What, did you hit your head or something?" the boy grinned, and walked over to Harry and Hermione.
Hermione had frozen when the boy had called Harry James. Now she was looking worriedly at Harry, hoping that he didn't get angry at whoever this was.
"Come on now, Prongs mate, introduce me to your ..." – the boy grinned flirtatiously at Hermione – "... friend."
"Look, I'm not James, I'm not Prongs, I'm Harry, I told you," Harry said, beginning to get frustrated. He parted his hair to show this boy his forehead. "See?"
The boy looked impressed at the sight of the lightning-shaped scar.
"Whoa! Cool bit of work there, mate. How'd you get that done?"
Harry glared at him. "Why do you think I'm James?!"
The boy raised an eyebrow. "Something wrong?"
Harry stared incredulously at him. "What's your name?"
The boy waved a hand in front of Harry's face. "Hello, anyone home? I'm Sirius, remember? Padfoot?"
Harry and Hermione both froze, staring at the boy.
"Wh-what?" Harry stammered, backing up a few steps.
The boy stared back. "Sirius! Sirius Black! Your best friend! Honestly, what's up with you, mate?"
"I'M NOT JAMES!" Harry said loudly, and the door opened again. Another boy with black hair stepped out. His hair was much messier than the first boy's.
"Padfoot, who're they?"
The first boy – Sirius – glanced over his shoulder. "What – James?"
"Yeah?"
"What's going ON here?!" Harry said loudly, and pushed Sirius aside to look at the second boy.
His heart seemed to stop.
It was his dad.
There was absolutely no mistaking it. The same messy black hair, the bony knees ... everyone was right. He was the image of his father. But James had blue eyes, not green.
"Da- James?" Harry whispered. The other boy stared at him.
Sirius and Hermione both stood to the sides, mouths open in surprise, while father and son stared at each other in disbelief.
"You – you look just like me," said James.
"Are you – are you James Potter?" Harry asked. Both other boys looked sharply at him.
"Yes ..." said James slowly. "How'd you know that?"
"I – I dunno. I don't even know where I am. Is this Hogwarts?"
"Yeah."
"What year is this?" Harry demanded, thinking furiously. If Hermione's Time Turner took us back in time when it broke ...
"It's 1976."
... then this is really my dad.
"Where did you come from, anyway?" said Sirius.
And – and Sirius.
Harry backed up against the cold stone wall, and sank down to the floor, in shock. Hermione hurried over, knelt beside him and put a hand on his shoulder, staring up at her best friend's father and godfather.
"We're – I don't know how to say this, but – we're from the future," she said nervously. "We're not from this time. If this really is 1976 ... we're not even born yet."
Sirius and James glanced at each other. "Okay ..."
"And we're not supposed to have come here – only my Time Turner broke, and now I can't find it –"
"Time Turner?"
"Oh – it's from our time – you must not know about it ..."
"Obviously, not."
Sirius and James glanced at each other again. "Look, let's take you to Professor Dumbledore. I think he'll be able to ... sort you out."
Hermione nodded dumbly, and helped Harry to his feet. He wouldn't look at anyone.
The four walked in silence down the halls, heading towards the Headmaster's office just as Harry and Hermione had been about to do before Sirius appeared.
"So ... uh, what's it like, in the future?" said Sirius curiously after a few minutes.
"It's not much different so far," murmured Hermione. No one talked from then on until they reached the stone gargoyle.
"Licorice sticks," said James, and the gargoyle came to life, springing aside and revealing the slowly turning stone staircase. All four students stepped on, and when they reached the top Sirius pounded thrice on the golden knocker. A few seconds of silence elapsed, then the door opened.
Professor Dumbledore looked just the same as always, though he was many years younger now, at least to Harry. He stared at the Headmaster.
"Ah yes, young Mr. Potter and Mr. Black. What can I do for you?" Dumbledore asked.
"Well –" Sirius said, glancing at Harry and Hermione.
Harry stepped forward. "Hello, Professor. I'm Harry P–" I'd better not say I'm a Potter. "Harry Peregrin," he decided on, and proceeded to tell the Headmaster – and James and Sirius – the whole story.
"... And then they suggested we come here, and – and – what do we do now?" he finished somewhat lamely.
Dumbledore was staring at his hands, folded on the desk. He looked deep in thought.
"Well, for the time being, pardon the pun, as I have no means to get you back home, I'm afraid you'll have to stay here for however long it takes to – as Mr. Black put it – sort you out. Now, you are both in Gryffindor?" he asked, looking from Harry to Hermione.
They both nodded.
"All right then. Miss Granger, you shall stay in the sixth-year girls' dormitories, and Mr. Peregrin, you shall stay in the sixth-year boys' dormitories. Mr. Potter and Mr. Black would be happy to show you around, no?"
James and Sirius nodded simultaneously. Dumbledore smiled briefly. "Good. Extra robes and books will be supplied for you both. Good day, Mr. Potter, Mr. Black, Mr. Peregrin, Miss Granger."
"Good day, Professor," said James and Sirius in unison.
"See you," said Harry.
"Thank you, Professor," said Hermione.
Dumbledore merely smiled in response, and waved them out.
~**~**~**~**~
"Well, this is where you'll be staying, I guess," said James to Harry as he opened the door to the boys' dormitory. "Look – there's a bed set up for you already."
"He sure doesn't waste time," muttered Harry, and they went back down stairs.
Hermione was sitting in the common room on a couch, staring into the fire. Harry remembered that they had been sitting there just before coming back to his parents' time.
"So, uh, Harry, right?" James said, and Harry nodded, throat tight. "So – you need anything else?"
"Nope," said Harry quickly.
"Right then, I'm going back to Defense Against the Dark Arts. Are you two coming, or will you wait until tomorrow morning to be announced?"
"I – I think we'll wait, if you don't mind," Harry said, and James nodded.
"Okay. Sirius! You coming?"
Sirius looked up. "Yeah. See you later, Harry, Hermione," he said, and they both left the room through the portrait hole.
Harry sat down beside Hermione and they both stared at the fire for a long time.
Hermione was the one to finally speak first.
"Harry –"
"I'm fine. Really."
"You're sure?" she asked, looking at him in concern, but he nodded shortly.
"Yep. Fine."
"Okay."
Harry was the first to doze off, slipping sideways on the couch. His head fell into Hermione's lap, and she absently smoothed his hair out of his face.
After a while she fell asleep too, head hanging down in front of her.
~**~**~**~**~**~
Some hours later, James and Sirius were the first ones back to the common room. They'd skipped dinner and taken some food upstairs so that they could get the two newcomers out of sight until the next morning.
Sirius entered first. He immediately saw the pair sleeping in front of the fire, snoring gently. He grinned, and motioned for James to be quiet. When James saw them, he grinned too.
The boys put down the rolls they had brought up and tiptoed over to Harry and Hermione. James transfigured a roll into a pail full of water.
"Aw, they look so peaceful," whispered Sirius with a snicker. "His head in her lap and all – d' you think they're ... ?"
"I dunno, mate, but they're about to get wet."
With that, James upturned the bucket.
"Bleeargh!" spluttered Harry, instantly awake, his mouth full of water and his clothes sopping.
"Eek!" Hermione gave a little yelp, her hair all wet. Harry noticed he was lying in her lap, and sat up quickly.
"You – you –"
James and Sirius were laughing and grinning so infectiously, that Harry had to see the humour in the situation, and started chuckling as well. Hermione giggled, and pulled out her wand.
"You're going to pay for that, as soon as I dry us off," she said. "Scourgify!"
The water evaporated instantly, and she, Harry and the couch were dry. Both sixteen-year-olds leapt to their feet, and Harry pulled out his wand as well.
Harry grinned wickedly. "We're gonna hex you into the middle of next week," he said.
James and Sirius both laughed harder. "You can't have learned more than us, we're the most advanced students in DADA at Hogwarts!"
Harry and Hermione grinned at each other, then turned back to the other two.
"You may know lots, but we know more," laughed Hermione, and she pointed her wand at Sirius. "Petrificus Totalus!"
Sirius's arms and legs snapped together, and he toppled over.
Harry shouted, "Tarantellegra!" and James's legs started dancing furiously, carrying him all around the room as he tried unsuccessfully to stop moving and aim.
Harry and Hermione both kept casting spells at their targets, laughing themselves silly.
Finally, after about ten minutes of hexing, James and Sirius both looked like they had been dragged behind a magical shape-changer for hours.
Still giggling, Hermione said, "Finite incantatem," and all the signs of the hexes faded.
James and Sirius got to their feet slowly, looking warily at the pair of teenagers.
Harry and Hermione grinned. "Never mess with members of the DA," said Harry, and he and Hermione both laughed again.
"Where – where'd you learn all that?"
"We've always been the top students of the year in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Harry's been through ... let's just say he's been through more than we care to talk about," said Hermione.
"Like what?"
Harry and Hermione glanced at each other and silently agreed not to tell them anything. "Oh, just things ..." she said vaguely. "You'll – you'll find out later."
The three friends were sitting on couches in front of the fire in the Gryffindor common room. Harry refused to talk about Sirius, and snapped at them whenever they mentioned it.
"You go on, Ron, I'll talk to him," Hermione murmured. Ron looked reluctant.
"But ..."
"It's okay, you go ahead and tell Professor McGonagall that we might be a little late."
Ron glanced back at Harry, who was throwing dark looks at the floor, and nodded. "All right, then. See you later." He hurried off.
Hermione turned to her other friend. "Harry, why don't you want to talk about it? It's good to get things like this off your chest, you know."
Harry glared at her. "I don't care! None of you – none of you – can possibly know what I'm feeling right now!"
Hermione looked down at her lap. "I do," she said very softly. Harry stood up.
"You DON'T! It wasn't YOUR parents that were murdered! It wasn't YOUR godfather who was murdered! They were MINE! He was like a second father to me!"
"Harry –"
"YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE!" he roared. "YOUR PARENTS ARE STILL ALIVE AND WELL!"
"Actually, they're divorced," Hermione said coolly. "I haven't seen my father in about eight years. My mom remarried the year that I got my Hogwarts letter."
Harry stopped yelling, but still looked angry.
"And I do know how you're feeling, or at least somewhat. I lost my uncle when I was eight years old. He was like a second father to me when my parents got divorced. He died of cancer."
Harry sat down, slightly stunned. "I – I didn't know your –"
"I know you didn't. I haven't told anyone here except you, now. I didn't want to think about it."
She was still staring at her lap, her hands clenched together so tightly that they were white.
"So ... you mean the man we met ... that's your stepfather?"
"Yes."
There was an awkward pause. The fire crackled in the hearth, making the only sound in the room.
"Sorry," Harry muttered after a while. "Didn't mean to blow up in your face."
"It's okay."
There was another silence. Both teenagers stared at their laps, mulling over their losses.
Hermione looked up slowly, and squeezed his hand briefly before saying quietly, "We'd better get to class. We're already late for Transfiguration, and you know how Professor McGonagall gets ..."
"Yeah. Absolutely. Let's go," Harry said, and stood, stretching. He offered a hand up to his friend, and she took it.
When she was fully upright, he made to let go, but she held on, giving him a small smile.
They climbed through the portrait hole and walked down the empty halls, heading to class.
They didn't talk, but rather walked in comfortable silence, footsteps echoing on the marble floors.
When they reached the hallway just outside Transfiguration, Hermione stopped. Harry stopped too, and glanced at her.
"What?"
"Just – don't tell anyone, okay? About my ... my dad?" she asked in a small voice.
"Not even Ron?"
"No. He'll make such a fuss about it ..."
Harry grinned. "It's true." He smiled warmly at her. "All right, then. Not a soul."
She smiled back. "Thanks."
He slung his arm about her shoulders, squeezed briefly, and walked over to the door, about to knock.
Abruptly, a bundle of walking sticks swooped down out of midair and nearly came crashing down onto Hermione's head. Peeves cackled. Hermione stumbled, trying to duck the canes being pelted at her, and tripped on the edge of a carpet on the floor. She went flying forwards.
Harry's arm came out of nowhere and stopped her fall. They both heard a tiny snap, and the chain around Hermione's neck broke. Though Harry was holding her up, the miniature hourglass that had, until now, hung about her neck crashed to the hard stone floor, and it broke.
Whirls of light and dust streamed forth, and both Harry and Hermione were engulfed in it. A strange spinning sensation came over them both, and the world dissolved before them.
Harry closed his eyes. Spinning so reminded him of Floo powder, of which he was none too fond. When they slowed, he chanced cracking one eye open again, then the other as they stopped turning altogether.
"What happened?" he whispered, standing Hermione upright and steadying her when she stumbled from dizziness.
"Uh – I don't know. Where did Peeves go? He was just here ..." she said.
"Hey – the rug's gone, too," Harry said. They both looked around in bewilderment. "What's going on?"
"My – my Time Turner broke," she said in disbelief. "It was right on the floor – where did the glass go?"
Harry was suddenly reminded of Dudley's birthday six years ago, at the zoo. He remembered the incident with the boa constrictor that he accidentally set free, and the manager of the reptile house had said, "But the glass! Where did the glass go?"
Now the glass from Hermione's Time Turner was gone. Wait – Time Turner?
"Hermione, since when do you have a Time Turner?" Harry asked suddenly, turning to her. "I thought you gave that up after third year."
She shook her head. "I decided that I could handle it again, being three years older, and seeing as I want to do so many subjects, I figured I'd ask Professor Dumbledore again."
"Oh. But – you can't handle it, obviously. You just broke it!"
Hermione blushed. "I was going to repair it, of course, but it's gone. I should go apologize to Professor Dumbledore now, in fact. Come with me?"
"But – but we have Transfiguration, and McGonagall will –"
"I'm hoping that Professor Dumbledore will explain it to her. Now, are you coming?"
Harry sighed and grinned slightly. Hermione could still be bossy when she wanted to. "All right, all right ..." he said, and they started off in the direction of the Headmaster's office.
Behind them, the door opened, and a boy of about their age stepped out of the classroom wearing Gryffindor robes. His black hair fell into his eyes, and he was tall and well built.
Harry and Hermione both stopped and glanced over their shoulders. That's odd, thought Harry. The only Gryffindor boys my age are me, Ron, Seamus, Dean and Neville. Who's he?
The boy saw them, and grinned. "James! Who's this?" he said mockingly, teasing.
Harry frowned. "Uh – I'm not James," he said, his voice choking just slightly. "I'm Harry."
The boy laughed. "Oh, okay. But who's this, then, Harry?" he asked, laughing. Harry's frown deepened.
"Uh – who are you?"
"What, did you hit your head or something?" the boy grinned, and walked over to Harry and Hermione.
Hermione had frozen when the boy had called Harry James. Now she was looking worriedly at Harry, hoping that he didn't get angry at whoever this was.
"Come on now, Prongs mate, introduce me to your ..." – the boy grinned flirtatiously at Hermione – "... friend."
"Look, I'm not James, I'm not Prongs, I'm Harry, I told you," Harry said, beginning to get frustrated. He parted his hair to show this boy his forehead. "See?"
The boy looked impressed at the sight of the lightning-shaped scar.
"Whoa! Cool bit of work there, mate. How'd you get that done?"
Harry glared at him. "Why do you think I'm James?!"
The boy raised an eyebrow. "Something wrong?"
Harry stared incredulously at him. "What's your name?"
The boy waved a hand in front of Harry's face. "Hello, anyone home? I'm Sirius, remember? Padfoot?"
Harry and Hermione both froze, staring at the boy.
"Wh-what?" Harry stammered, backing up a few steps.
The boy stared back. "Sirius! Sirius Black! Your best friend! Honestly, what's up with you, mate?"
"I'M NOT JAMES!" Harry said loudly, and the door opened again. Another boy with black hair stepped out. His hair was much messier than the first boy's.
"Padfoot, who're they?"
The first boy – Sirius – glanced over his shoulder. "What – James?"
"Yeah?"
"What's going ON here?!" Harry said loudly, and pushed Sirius aside to look at the second boy.
His heart seemed to stop.
It was his dad.
There was absolutely no mistaking it. The same messy black hair, the bony knees ... everyone was right. He was the image of his father. But James had blue eyes, not green.
"Da- James?" Harry whispered. The other boy stared at him.
Sirius and Hermione both stood to the sides, mouths open in surprise, while father and son stared at each other in disbelief.
"You – you look just like me," said James.
"Are you – are you James Potter?" Harry asked. Both other boys looked sharply at him.
"Yes ..." said James slowly. "How'd you know that?"
"I – I dunno. I don't even know where I am. Is this Hogwarts?"
"Yeah."
"What year is this?" Harry demanded, thinking furiously. If Hermione's Time Turner took us back in time when it broke ...
"It's 1976."
... then this is really my dad.
"Where did you come from, anyway?" said Sirius.
And – and Sirius.
Harry backed up against the cold stone wall, and sank down to the floor, in shock. Hermione hurried over, knelt beside him and put a hand on his shoulder, staring up at her best friend's father and godfather.
"We're – I don't know how to say this, but – we're from the future," she said nervously. "We're not from this time. If this really is 1976 ... we're not even born yet."
Sirius and James glanced at each other. "Okay ..."
"And we're not supposed to have come here – only my Time Turner broke, and now I can't find it –"
"Time Turner?"
"Oh – it's from our time – you must not know about it ..."
"Obviously, not."
Sirius and James glanced at each other again. "Look, let's take you to Professor Dumbledore. I think he'll be able to ... sort you out."
Hermione nodded dumbly, and helped Harry to his feet. He wouldn't look at anyone.
The four walked in silence down the halls, heading towards the Headmaster's office just as Harry and Hermione had been about to do before Sirius appeared.
"So ... uh, what's it like, in the future?" said Sirius curiously after a few minutes.
"It's not much different so far," murmured Hermione. No one talked from then on until they reached the stone gargoyle.
"Licorice sticks," said James, and the gargoyle came to life, springing aside and revealing the slowly turning stone staircase. All four students stepped on, and when they reached the top Sirius pounded thrice on the golden knocker. A few seconds of silence elapsed, then the door opened.
Professor Dumbledore looked just the same as always, though he was many years younger now, at least to Harry. He stared at the Headmaster.
"Ah yes, young Mr. Potter and Mr. Black. What can I do for you?" Dumbledore asked.
"Well –" Sirius said, glancing at Harry and Hermione.
Harry stepped forward. "Hello, Professor. I'm Harry P–" I'd better not say I'm a Potter. "Harry Peregrin," he decided on, and proceeded to tell the Headmaster – and James and Sirius – the whole story.
"... And then they suggested we come here, and – and – what do we do now?" he finished somewhat lamely.
Dumbledore was staring at his hands, folded on the desk. He looked deep in thought.
"Well, for the time being, pardon the pun, as I have no means to get you back home, I'm afraid you'll have to stay here for however long it takes to – as Mr. Black put it – sort you out. Now, you are both in Gryffindor?" he asked, looking from Harry to Hermione.
They both nodded.
"All right then. Miss Granger, you shall stay in the sixth-year girls' dormitories, and Mr. Peregrin, you shall stay in the sixth-year boys' dormitories. Mr. Potter and Mr. Black would be happy to show you around, no?"
James and Sirius nodded simultaneously. Dumbledore smiled briefly. "Good. Extra robes and books will be supplied for you both. Good day, Mr. Potter, Mr. Black, Mr. Peregrin, Miss Granger."
"Good day, Professor," said James and Sirius in unison.
"See you," said Harry.
"Thank you, Professor," said Hermione.
Dumbledore merely smiled in response, and waved them out.
~**~**~**~**~
"Well, this is where you'll be staying, I guess," said James to Harry as he opened the door to the boys' dormitory. "Look – there's a bed set up for you already."
"He sure doesn't waste time," muttered Harry, and they went back down stairs.
Hermione was sitting in the common room on a couch, staring into the fire. Harry remembered that they had been sitting there just before coming back to his parents' time.
"So, uh, Harry, right?" James said, and Harry nodded, throat tight. "So – you need anything else?"
"Nope," said Harry quickly.
"Right then, I'm going back to Defense Against the Dark Arts. Are you two coming, or will you wait until tomorrow morning to be announced?"
"I – I think we'll wait, if you don't mind," Harry said, and James nodded.
"Okay. Sirius! You coming?"
Sirius looked up. "Yeah. See you later, Harry, Hermione," he said, and they both left the room through the portrait hole.
Harry sat down beside Hermione and they both stared at the fire for a long time.
Hermione was the one to finally speak first.
"Harry –"
"I'm fine. Really."
"You're sure?" she asked, looking at him in concern, but he nodded shortly.
"Yep. Fine."
"Okay."
Harry was the first to doze off, slipping sideways on the couch. His head fell into Hermione's lap, and she absently smoothed his hair out of his face.
After a while she fell asleep too, head hanging down in front of her.
~**~**~**~**~**~
Some hours later, James and Sirius were the first ones back to the common room. They'd skipped dinner and taken some food upstairs so that they could get the two newcomers out of sight until the next morning.
Sirius entered first. He immediately saw the pair sleeping in front of the fire, snoring gently. He grinned, and motioned for James to be quiet. When James saw them, he grinned too.
The boys put down the rolls they had brought up and tiptoed over to Harry and Hermione. James transfigured a roll into a pail full of water.
"Aw, they look so peaceful," whispered Sirius with a snicker. "His head in her lap and all – d' you think they're ... ?"
"I dunno, mate, but they're about to get wet."
With that, James upturned the bucket.
"Bleeargh!" spluttered Harry, instantly awake, his mouth full of water and his clothes sopping.
"Eek!" Hermione gave a little yelp, her hair all wet. Harry noticed he was lying in her lap, and sat up quickly.
"You – you –"
James and Sirius were laughing and grinning so infectiously, that Harry had to see the humour in the situation, and started chuckling as well. Hermione giggled, and pulled out her wand.
"You're going to pay for that, as soon as I dry us off," she said. "Scourgify!"
The water evaporated instantly, and she, Harry and the couch were dry. Both sixteen-year-olds leapt to their feet, and Harry pulled out his wand as well.
Harry grinned wickedly. "We're gonna hex you into the middle of next week," he said.
James and Sirius both laughed harder. "You can't have learned more than us, we're the most advanced students in DADA at Hogwarts!"
Harry and Hermione grinned at each other, then turned back to the other two.
"You may know lots, but we know more," laughed Hermione, and she pointed her wand at Sirius. "Petrificus Totalus!"
Sirius's arms and legs snapped together, and he toppled over.
Harry shouted, "Tarantellegra!" and James's legs started dancing furiously, carrying him all around the room as he tried unsuccessfully to stop moving and aim.
Harry and Hermione both kept casting spells at their targets, laughing themselves silly.
Finally, after about ten minutes of hexing, James and Sirius both looked like they had been dragged behind a magical shape-changer for hours.
Still giggling, Hermione said, "Finite incantatem," and all the signs of the hexes faded.
James and Sirius got to their feet slowly, looking warily at the pair of teenagers.
Harry and Hermione grinned. "Never mess with members of the DA," said Harry, and he and Hermione both laughed again.
"Where – where'd you learn all that?"
"We've always been the top students of the year in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Harry's been through ... let's just say he's been through more than we care to talk about," said Hermione.
"Like what?"
Harry and Hermione glanced at each other and silently agreed not to tell them anything. "Oh, just things ..." she said vaguely. "You'll – you'll find out later."