Beta love to CarbConnoisseur

TW brief mentions of illegal potion use as a coping mechanism.

The travellers surely understood it. It was clear they were no strangers to battle, so what were they playing at? They could rest when it was done. He had heard that the damage to their bodies had been extensive. Even now he was aware that Poppy was waiting on her Master to finalise their treatment plan. But surely if it was that bad then they should ensure that they gave those who were healthy the best possible chance? It was war. People were unfortunately expendable. As long as they gave the Order all of their information, their part in this war could be done. They could die in a lovely blaze of glory safe in the knowledge that better wizards than them would take care of it.

He acknowledged that the girl's clear hatred of him unnerved him. He was just trying to end the war. Sacrifices had to be made. Why did no one else see that? What were a couple of childhoods in the face of never-ending tyranny? Although something had apparently gone wrong somewhere. He'd fix that this time though, with their information. And he'd be sure to make mention of their contribution in the memorial speeches when they'd won. That would surely be enough restitution. He was confident they'd see sense. They were soldiers after all.

His eyes widened slightly when the travellers walked in. They looked…well, not healthy, but healthier. Rest and food had done wonders for their appearance in a relatively short period of time. Perhaps they were not as close to death as he'd believed. Maybe he could offer them a place at his side instead. That might ensure their cooperation.

"It's wonderful to see you looking so restored," he twinkled. Hermione looked at him incredulously but didn't speak, moving to sit down beside Sirius, who clasped the hand that Draco wasn't holding.

He'd grown inexplicably fond of this fierce girl over the last week. With neither of them being allowed out of bed, Dorea had dispatched James, Sirius, Remus and Lily to entertain them and so they had. He was relatively certain it was to ensure they didn't have time to hunt down Peter, especially after the ridiculous little owl his former friend had sent informing them he was taking his mother somewhere warm for a few weeks in the hopes of it being beneficial to her heath, promising faithfully that he missed them and would be in touch as soon as he was back.

Despite that, it had been…nice to have a girl other than Lily who was blatantly uninterested in him romantically and not afraid to tell him if she thought he was being an arse. It was a rare trait. And if it allowed his impulsive reaction to cool down into something more steady, well, he imagined Dorea would consider it a job well done. He was trying, after all. And as much as he wanted to end Peter, he also wasn't sure he could put Hermione through any more, and unfortunately, murder meant Azkaban, even if the one you murdered was a traitorous rat. The only time he had mentioned it in her presence, she had paled so dramatically, that he thought she was going to faint. Draco had warned him in a low, threatening voice that if he ever mentioned something so monumentally fucking stupid again, he'd personally ensure that he was warded in a room with no way out until he was deemed sensible again, all while trying to bring Hermione out of whatever it was she was seeing inside her head. He decided then and there, that if it caused that reaction, he was best going against his instincts and following instructions for once.

And once he had shoved the idea of Peter behind his shields, the week had hardly been a hardship. He enjoyed their company. Hermione's sharp tongue and the glimpses of what their relationship really looked like behind all the horror made them fun to be around. That Remus also loved them, mainly because both of them were happy discussing obscure magical theory with him in a way that bored Sirius and James to tears, also helped. Still, they'd taught Moony some rare hexes so maybe next time he'd join them, he mused, as he watched the Order filter in. Or maybe he'd just bribe Remus to teach him. Hermione probably wouldn't find it endearing if he fell asleep mid-lecture.

James had refused to say more than that she felt like family and that was enough for him to wind Hermione up like a sibling until Draco had had to hold her back from cursing him in annoyance. And Lily…Lily had just loved having another muggleborn to talk to and had spent hours updating them on current trends and interests. In turn, Hermione had told her pieces of what was coming, recommending investment in…an apple? Something like that. All in all, it had been a surprisingly easy week given the situation. Now though, he was aware of the tension that was back in their bodies. And he was all too aware of the fact that Hermione clearly despised the Headmaster. It made him feel on edge. He'd always respected Dumbledore. He'd given Moony a chance after all. But he was inclined to trust this strange girl with the wild hair that James had claimed as his sister, and he wasn't sure where that left things. This was Dumbledore's Order, wasn't it? And he was the leader of the opposition….so surely that meant he had to be trustworthy? Hermione didn't seem to think so….and really….she'd know, wouldn't she?

He glanced over at Remus, who was sitting beside Lily. He could see the same conflict on his face as he watched Hermione and Draco tense, a startling reminder of what they'd been like when they arrived. It wasn't something Sirius wanted to see, not after he'd caught a glimpse of the people underneath the masks over the last week. Maybe after they'd said whatever they needed to say tonight they'd understand more. He had to hope.

"Alright we all seem to be here," Albus smiled genially around the room. "Shall we begin?"

Hermione stood pulling Draco with her. "I need anyone who wasn't here last time to sign this." The Prewett twins shared a look before shrugging in sync.

"Sure thing. Just…what exactly is it we're signing?" Fabian smiled genially, although his eyes were shrewd as he surveyed these two interlopers, suddenly understanding what it was that Benjy had been unable to say.

"Charmed parchment. That way I'll know if someone betrays us."

"Ah…and you are?"

"Hermione…Potter. I'll explain once that's signed."

They nodded, signing their names with a flourish before handing it to Kingsley, who signed without comment before giving it to Frank Longbottom who hesitated but seeing no one else object, signed his name before handing it over to Alice.

"Now see here just a minute. I want more of an explanation!"

Hermione's lips twitched into a reluctant grin. "I'd have been surprised if you didn't….Gussie."

Augusta Longbottom's eyes widened as just about everyone in the room inhaled sharply. No one called the Longbottom Matriarch anything other than Madam Longbottom without her express permission, and even then there was no shortening of her given name.

"Who are you?" she spluttered.

Hermione shrugged. "Sign the parchment and I'll tell you. Trust me it's a story you want to hear….it might rival a few of your own. Tell me…did Mavis ever recover?" It was a risk, Hermione knew. The Augusta Longbottom she knew was wickedly fast with a wand and not afraid to use it. The woman had spent hours teaching them duelling during the summer between fifth and sixth year. They'd owled frequently before Hermione had to go on the run with Harry, and she liked to think she knew her relatively well. She definitely respected the stern woman; it would be a severe blow to her plan to have her walk away now.

"She was left with just a minor limp." Augusta conceded, signing her name.

Hermione bit back a smile, taking it back from her. "Thanks."

"Are you going to explain now?" Augusta asked pointedly.

"I suppose I should," Hermione mused. "I would like to point out that our identities and dates of birth have been verified by veritaserum, however unbelievable they seem. I am Hermione Potter. This is Draco Malfoy, and I won't be born until September."

Augusta sat down sharply. "Verified by whom?"

"All those who didn't have to sign that parchment tonight Augusta," Minerva cut in.

"Oh my. Why are you here?"

"To stop this fucking war before it kills you all," Hermione growled.

"All of us?" Augusta queried lightly, although her face was tense.

Hermione looked around the room and sighed. "When we left, all of you were dead. Voldemort won. There was no mercy. We tried for a while to continue, but he'd been recruiting. Anyone who didn't want to die joined his side. He had contacts overseas, specifically with Durmstrang, and he had control of Hogwarts and therefore most pure and half blood parents. All of the teachers were replaced by members of his side. He very publicly slaughtered those who refused. You tried. Your death was…." Hermione paused looking like she wanted to vomit. "You, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Flitwick, along with Molly Weasley and Andromeda Tonks were made examples of. I…it really wasn't pleasant."

The entire room was silent. "So what do we do?" Augusta asked, her face pale but her voice was unwavering.

"We need to work out where certain things are in this time," Hermione hedged. "We also need to come up with some sort of timeline. Perhaps cross-referencing against planned missions to see if it jogs our memories. We both remember bits and pieces about the first war but it was…more of an overview rather than being given specific dates. We don't know everything. I honestly wish we did. We could also do with people carrying a way to get them out of situations. For example, we know the Prewett twins were ambushed. They took out five death eaters before Dolohov murdered them. If they had a way to get themselves out of that situation if they found themselves there, then it could save them even if we don't know the specific date."

The Prewett twins had paled before one of them nudged his twin. "Here….five of them Gid!"

His twin rolled his eyes but looked slightly mollified.

Hermione gave them a sad smile. "We also have some people we will need to speak to. We need them onside."

"Miss Potter you make it sound like you're intending to fight this," Albus said gently.

"What else would we do? Do I need to say it again? You fucked up. I won't let you do it a second time."

Augusta looked between Hermione and Albus shrewdly. "Perhaps you should start at the beginning?"

Sighing, Hermione nodded, "Fine. But it's…I imagine it'll be difficult to listen to."

"Not as difficult as it was to live," Dorea responded sharply.

Hermione inclined her head. "I suppose. The early years didn't feel that bad. Hindsight makes them worse I think," she glanced at the clock before turning to Draco. "Years one to three?"

He nodded. "Years one to three. I'll need a drink before we begin on fourth, fifth and sixth. And an entire bottle and probably something lovely, illegal, and hallucinogenic before that last year."

She snorted, ignoring the horrified looks the Order members were giving them.

"How much experience with lovely, illegal, hallucinogenic potions do you have?" Sirius asked with interest.

"He lived in my house. More than I probably should."

"Right, let's begin shall we?" Hermione elbowed him before her eyes settled on James. "Fuck. This is….well maybe we should have that drink."

"We're all experienced wizards, Miss Potter. I'm sure we can handle what you tell us," Dumbledore chided.

Hermione shot him a scathing look. "Trixie. Calming draughts, please. And firewhisky." She ignored Dumbledore's disapproving look.

"Right then." She poured several measures, sending one to Frank, Alice, Augusta, Dorea, Charlus, James, Lily, Sirius, and Remus, before pouring a larger one for herself and Draco and draining the glass, ignoring Dumbledore's spluttering as she poured another measure. She paused, tilting her head as she surveyed the room, before she poured a few more, sending some to the Pretwett twins, Benjy Fenwick, and the woman she was certain was Dorcas Meadowes. She sent the remainder of the bottle towards two families seated together, unsure of how the Mickinnons and the Bones would react.

"Right. So." Everyone with a glass in front of them looked nervous. "We're probably going to have to do this in stages over a few days."

"Miss Potter, any day wasted is a day where we are all at risk," Albus cut in.

"Lucky for you we have a decent idea of the timeline. We'll be fine," Hermione responded sharply.

"I really must insist."

"No, you don't get to insist. I warned you, we do this our way, not yours. I don't give a fuck if you want all this done in one night. I'm telling you now that it's not happening. We are people, not fucking robots. We'll all need time to process what we are about to say. So fuck off and be quiet or I won't speak until you're out of the room." There was a ringing silence. Albus was stunned. No one spoke to him like that and this girl was beginning to make a habit of it. He had excused it the first night on the grounds of their clearly battle-torn state. Now though, for all she didn't look particularly well, she looked an awful lot better than she had. It made it feel…less reactionary and more personal. It dawned on him then that no one was defending him either. Shutting his mouth he decided to listen. He'd decide what to do about the irritating girl after he'd heard what she had to say.

"Right then, everything happens in a relatively short space of time. Three months or so really, in 1981. Peter Pettigrew is a Death Eater. He passes on information for years. We think he joined before the end of school, but I'll be honest, we're not sure. When we met him…I met him…he'd spent twelve years as a rat. It wasn't pretty. Next year? I think, late next year. Voldemort attacks the Bones. He murderers everyone bar Amelia and Susan; she won't be born until next May. He takes out the Mckinnon's shortly after that. All of them." She paused, seeing both families reach for the firewhiskey. "During that three month period, Benjy Fenwick goes missing. They only ever found pieces of him. Dorcas Meadowes is taken out by Voldemort himself, and as I said before, the Prewett twins die." She took a deep breath. "There was a prophecy overheard and half given to Voldemort in 1980. It spoke of a baby who would be born that could defeat him." She paused, a horrified look flashing over her face. "Don't even fucking think about it," she snarled at Dumbledore who had been unable to hide his interest. Draco watched the Headmaster warily, gauging the reaction of the room. Thankfully most of them looked faintly nauseated at his slip up.

"There were two families that fit the prophecy," Draco continued, allowing Hermione to calm herself back down as she kept a careful eye on Dumbledore. "The Longbottoms and the Potters. Because he only got half the prophecy, Voldemort began hunting them. Both families went into hiding."

"What did the other half of the prophecy say?" Charlus asked, his hand shaking where he held his glass. "I assume it is important."

"It mentioned the Dark Lord marking the child as his equal. If he'd ignored the prophecy, if he'd not hunted those children, it would have never been activated."

"Right. Who did he choose?" Sirius asked, knowing the answer.

"The Potter's," Draco answered reluctantly. "On Halloween 1981, their secret keeper gave up their location. Voldemort murdered both James and Lily. Their son, Harry, survived."

Hermione looked at them, tears falling rapidly down her face, mirroring the ones on James and Lily's. She didn't dare look at Dorea. "Everyone thought Sirius was their Secret Keeper, but he wasn't! Peter was. Sirius went after him, but Peter escaped, cutting off his finger before blowing up the area. Twelve muggles died. Sirius was arrested and sent to Azkaban without trial; he stayed there for twelve years."

"Where was I?" Remus asked, looking ill.

"You'd been sent to the Packs. You thought Sirius had done it. You told us later that Peter had been making you question Sirius' loyalty. He'd been doing the same to Sirius about you. Neither of you trusted the other."

"What happened to Harry?" Lily whispered.

"Dumbledore sent him to Petunia." Hermione confessed softly, swallowing hard.

"No!"

"I'm so sorry. It won't happen. I won't let it."

"Where were we?" Dorea asked quietly, her face streaked with tears.

"I don't know. You were…rarely mentioned. Sirius spoke of staying with you and how you were more of his mum than that bitch on the wall but he never said what happened."

"The bitch on the wall?" Sirius questioned, his voice sounding slightly dazed.

Hermione flinched. "Ah….I've um..met your mother's portrait. She was particularly delightful."

"What about us?" Alice asked, her voice cracking. "You gave us whiskey for a reason."

Hermione nodded slowly. "After….after Voldemort disappeared having been unable to kill Harry, Bellatrix, Rodolphus, and Rabsastian Lestrange, along with Barty Crouch Jr. caught you. Remus thought you had heard what happened and were trying to get to Harry. You were his godmother. I don't know exactly what happened, but they tortured you for information on Voldemort's whereabouts. Neville, your son, he was safe. Augusta raised him….You and Frank….you were tortured to insanity. I met you once, in the Janus Thickey ward."

There was complete silence that was only broken by the sound of people crying. Draco took a moment to pull Hermione to him, feeling her crack under the weight of the horrors she was forcing these people to confront. He felt someone pulling her away from him and immediately went for his wand before he recognised the women standing in front of them. Augusta Longbottom pulled Hermione into a bone-cracking hug, just as Lily Evans did the same to him.

"Thank you," Augusta murmured, trying not to imagine the images Hermione had of her son and his fiancee before she met them tonight.

"What?"

"Thank you for telling us so we can make sure it doesn't happen this time."

Hermione nodded, not trusting herself to speak.