"Are you alright?" Hermione asked softly after she found James standing in a hallway looking out the window.
"Where did it all go so wrong?" he whispered, not looking at her.
"I ask myself that often," she admitted quietly, moving to stand next to him.
A flash of regret shot across his face. "Fuck, Hermione, I didn't…."
"Stop," she commanded. "You're allowed to be upset about the rat. He… I only ever knew him as the disgusting man who was more rat than a human, the one who cost my baby brother his family. You… he was one of your best friends. I can't imagine how it feels to know that he isn't who you thought he was."
"It makes me question everything," he admitted. "I don't… what else have I missed? Was it something we did? Was there a turning point or was it something that he'd managed to hide for years? What if we could have done something to stop it?"
Hermione sighed. "I wish I had answers, but I don't. You… you can't think like that though. You'll drive yourself insane. Pettigrew made his choices. His reasons are his own, not yours. I'm sorry you were betrayed by a friend, but I can't be sorry we caught him earlier than we did in my original timeline. You have a real chance of getting to see Harry grow up, of seeing those quidditch matches, teasing him about his first girlfriend, seeing him off to Hogwarts…. Maybe when you're torturing yourself with what ifs, remember that. Because the you in my timeline, he didn't get that. "
James sighed. "You'd make a terrible Mind healer."
Hermione winced. "Probably," she admitted. "I'm not great at this."
"You're right though. He… he cost me everything and I need to not forget that. But I think I just need time to grieve for the boy I thought he was."
Hermine nodded. "That's fair enough. I'll leave you to it."
"I… Hermione? How do you feel about pubs?"
She frowned. "I have no feelings either way," she replied with a shrug.
"Fancy joining your big brother for a drink?"
Hermione sighed. "Go on then. Are we inviting your entourage?"
James snorted. "Nah. Pads and Moony will be ah… comforting each other and I really don't want to interrupt."
Hermione grimaced. "Thanks for the warning. I'll let Draco know we're going."
"Should you be?" he asked as if it had just occurred to him.
Hermione shrugged. "I feel better than I have in ages, to be honest. I'm not up for doing any strenuous dancing or anything, but I can sit with you in a pub."
James seemed to consider her for a moment. "I have a better idea. Mum would murder me if you got hurt just after you'd been healed. Come on." He tugged at her hand, dragging her down the stairs and through to the kitchen where he rummaged for a few moments before unearthing a bottle of Firewhiskey from the back of the cupboard along with a bottle of elf wine and two glasses. "This way," he called, heading for the back doors. Rolling her eyes, Hermione followed him out into the garden, wondering where on earth he was heading as he wove in and out of trees before stopping in a small clearing. "We used to come here every summer, pitch a tent, and tell stories. Mum had the elves leave us firewood after Sirius almost broke his neck climbing a tree to get branches."
"Ah,'' Hermione replied softly, watching as he transfigured rocks into chairs and began attempting a fire. "It sounds… idyllic."
He hummed. "What were your summers like?"
Hermione sighed. "Lonely, in the beginning. I spent them not seeing my friends until the summer before fourth year. Fourth year was the World Cup which was… well, it ended badly, but the in-between bits were nice. The Burrow has a lake at the back. We'd swim in it. The boys played quidditch. Fred and George pranked us…. The year before fifth, we were at Grimmauld and Molly made us clean. That was… well it wasn't fun. There were moments, lots of little moments. We were back at the Burrow the summer before sixth. It was… it was hard. Sirius had died and Harry was struggling. And obviously, the summer after sixth was short."
"I'm sorry." James looked pained.
She shook her head. "I… I don't have memories of idyllic summers like you, but like I said, I have moments. Moments of normality, little pockets of time where everything was perfect. I don't regret it, not for a moment."
"I don't think I could do what you're doing," he admitted.
"I don't think I could do what you are either," she replied softly. "I think it would have killed me to have Harry or Ron choose to betray me. I wouldn't be as calm as you are."
"Calm?" he scoffed, forgoing the glass and swigging from the bottle. "I want to break things. I want to rage and I want to scream and I want to murder him. I'm not calm, Hermione. I'm… scared. Scared if I give into it I won't stop."
"So let's break some things," she suggested calmly.
"What?"
"You heard me, big brother. Let's break some things. I used to do it in the Room of Requirement. When things were hard or out of control, I used to go there and hurl curses at training dummies and blow up whatever the room scrounged up for me. Gin used to come with me quite a bit. Harry frustrated her to no end until he got his shit together."
He gaped at her before he laughed. "Merlin, you're serious."
"Yup," she nodded, before sending a Patronus to Minerva asking for entry. The dry reply came moments later, telling them to meet her at the gates to explain themselves.
"Holy shit," James breathed. "I can't believe you just did that."
"Are you coming or not?"
"What?" he yelped. "Yes!"
"Then let's go! Can we apparate from the grounds?"
"I can. I don't know if Dad will have released the wards for you yet. Probably, to be fair. Try it. It won't harm you either way, and if you can't I'll side along you." Nodding, Hermione twirled, landing outside Hogwarts' gates. James joined her seconds later. "Dad added you to the wards then."
"So it would seem."
"Miss Potter, Mr. Potter, might I inquire as to what on Earth you are thinking?" Minerva asked from the other side of the gate.
"We were thinking that allowing James to blow some things up might make him feel at least marginally better about the whole best friend being Kissed thing," Hermione replied bluntly.
Minerva winced. "Yes well… be that as it may, I cannot allow you to blow up a castle."
"And we won't. The Room of Requirement will provide something."
Minerva stilled. "I hadn't thought of that," she admitted quietly. "Very well. Alert me when you intend to leave. You can use my floo."
"Thanks, Minnie," James grinned.
"Do not make me change my mind, Mr. Potter," she responded sharply as she opened the gates."
"Of course not!" he replied with exaggerated offence. "We all know I was your favourite!" he dodged, grinning at her as her hand came up to clip him.
Hermione sighed. "All of a sudden I'm very glad I went to school with your son and not you. I'd have hexed you before the end of the first week."
James paused, looking offended. "No!" He exclaimed. "How can you say such a thing! Betrayed by my own daughter!"
"I'm not your daughter!" she whined, making him laugh as they walked the path up to the castle, Minerva watching them with a slightly indulgent smile. She'd never admit it, but he was one of her favourites.
"So I just walk in front of that bit of wall three times and it'll give me what I want?" James checked.
"Yup. Concentrate on it." He hummed, his forehead creasing into a frown as he paced.
"Wicked!" he grinned as the door appeared. Hermione cautiously followed him in. Inside were statues of Peter, various pieces of china, and training dummies that also bore a remarkable resemblance to Pettigrew. James stood still for a moment before a mask came down over his face and he blasted one of the statues with a bombarda so strong Hermione had to dodge, casting a shield charm as she went. Carefully, she crept into a corner, set her shield in front of her, and watched, attempting to fight the instincts that were screaming at her that this wasn't safe.
It took over an hour of the Room continually replacing the Peter effigies for James to break. Slowly, Hermione crept out of her corner as she watched him drop to his knees, sobbing as he took in the destruction around him, one lone Peter statue towering over him.
"Oh James," she murmured as she wrapped an arm around him, feeling him slump into her.
"What did we do to deserve him wanting us dead, Hermione?" he asked piteously.
"You didn't. You didn't do anything."
"But we must have." He twisted so he was looking at her, his eyes begging her to have an answer.
"James." She looked at him helplessly. "You didn't. He… it's all on him. He made his own shitty choices, James, not you. You didn't make them for him. For fucks sake, he chose to kill you. He chose his side. You… you'd never have done it to him. Remus, Sirius… none of you would have made the choices he did. You'd have died before betraying him. And he… he sided with a fucking insane megalomaniac."
He gulped as he looked at her. "But what if something we did drove him there?"
"What? What could you possibly have done to justify him joining them?"
"I… I don't know! But…"
"Stop!" she hissed. "You know damn fucking well that nothing justifies his choices!"
"But he's… Hermione, they're going to suck out his soul."
She winced. "I know," she whispered. "And… I'm sorry… for the boy you knew. But I… I'm not sorry for him."
James nodded slowly. "Help me blow some more things up?"
"Sure. Although if I end up injuring myself, you're explaining it to Draco and Healer McMillan."
He snorted. "Deal."
"Princess?" Draco mumbled as he felt the bed dip.
"Go back to sleep," she whispered, running a hand through his hair.
"Where have you been?"
"With James. He needed… to blow some things up."
Draco hummed. "You too?"
"Yes," she admitted. "Me too."
"What time is it?"
"After one. Draco, go back to sleep. I didn't mean to wake you."
"No, talk to me."
She laughed softly, watching as he struggled to wake himself up. "About what?"
"Tell me… tell me what life will look like when this is all over." He stretched a hand out for her, pulling her to him when she took it. Huffing out a laugh, she rearranged herself until she was comfy, her head on his chest.
"We'll be married," she murmured slowly.
"Soon," he agreed.
"Yes. We… our children will grow up with Harry, Luna, the Weasleys, and Neville. Maybe you'll teach them how to fly." She laughed suddenly. "Harry will call you Uncle Draco."
Draco grimaced. "Wow Princess. Really?"
She snorted. "You know he will. Severus… we'll find Severus someone. I assume female, but you never know. He can teach our kids potions along with his."
"Severus with kids?" Draco asked incredulously. "Were you drinking with James?"
She laughed. "No, just James. I… I figured Madam Pomprey would flay me alive for even considering it. And I can see Severus with kids, can't you?"
"No!" he exclaimed emphatically. "I can see him putting up with your kids. Maybe this time he'll even be nice to Potter, but his own?"
"I can see it," she mused. "He won't have time to be bitter and lonely this time. And since we're the same age, I can nag much more effectively. Lily will help."
"I love you, Princess," he grinned. "I can't quite imagine anything as entertaining as you and Lily convincing Severus to date."
She rolled her eyes even though he couldn't see her. "You'll be a potions master," she continued as if the tangent hadn't happened. "Maybe I will become a healer. I don't know… We'll live… probably somewhere nearby, realistically. I don't get the impression we'll be allowed to do anything else."
Draco snorted. "Princess, what makes you think you'll be allowed to leave here at all?"
Hermione laughed. "I… I want it, Draco. All of it. The career, the kids, the stupidly annoying, interfering family. I want to see everyone grow up."
"We will," he murmured, stroking a hand over her head. "You'll be bossy Aunt 'Mione, who tells the best, most unbelievable stories of riding dragons and thestrals and taking down fully grown mountain trolls."
She smiled slightly, desperately missing the people her friends had been, knowing that the stories would be real for her alone and thrilling tales for everyone else. She could picture a tiny Harry and Ron hanging off her every word and she desperately wanted to cry. "What do you want?"
He stilled. "You," he said eventually. "You, the kids, the… normal life. I want to grow old with you. I want to see you at one hundred and fifty, surrounded by great-great-grandchildren, with stories of all the years between now and then. Happy ones. Stories of birthday parties, Christmases, and Uncle Sirius doing stupid stuff as Padfoot or Uncle Severus hexing someone, probably Uncle James."
She snorted. "I imagine there'll be a lot of those stories," she mused. "Probably with Aunt Lily helping him."
"It's so close, Princess," he whispered. "So, so fucking close. And… I know it won't be how we imagined it originally, but… it's still us. Still our future, and gods, I'd do it all over again as long as you're standing next to me at the end of it."
"I wish they were here, Draco," she murmured, squeezing him tighter, giving in to her tears. "But there's no timeline where I can imagine losing you. I love you, Draco Malfoy. More than you'll ever know." She felt him shift to squeeze her tighter.
"You're my whole world, Princess. As long as you're here, I think I could survive anything."
"Let's not put that theory to the test, my dragon," she murmured into his chest. "Sleep now. James' hangover is likely to be entertaining and I doubt you want to miss it."