Hello hello!
I am honestly so happy you lot are enjoying the story thus far. Truly I am. Sometimes one tends to forget that Minerva was only in her early thirties when the Marauders were attending Hogwarts. Also, I think you're all going to love the next couple of chapters!
Please leave a review and let me know what you think ;)
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Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, and only the story line and any OC's belong to me.
Tuesday, January 25th, 1977
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Gryffindor Tower
"Mione!" James exclaimed merrily as he came flying down the stairs with Sirius on his back, glancing in her direction before he sped past her. Sirius had his hands thrust into the air, cheering, and urging James to continue onwards, letting out a wild whoop as they headed for the Portrait hole.
Hermione swivelled her head back towards the stairs that led to the boy's dormitories, only to throw Draco and Remus—who had just appeared, descending the last few steps—an inquistory look. "I thought you lot were 'busy studying', and that's why you missed tonight's feast," Hermione said dryly, reaching up to tug her curls free from the constraint of her hair tie, her hair falling in waves down her back—save for the indentation that remained from where the hair tie had been.
"We were, and now we're not," Draco shrugged cavalierly, traipsing straight past her in his pursuit of James and Sirius—he did pause beside her long enough to tuck a curl behind her ear. Remus smiled sheepishly, dropping a kiss to her temple before he jogged after Draco and the others. A burst of laughter. Draco threw his arm over Remus's shoulder. A loud cry was hurled their way as Peter jumped up from his place by the fireplace—beside Kira—and chased after his fellow Marauders.
Hermione put her hands on her hips. The audacity. They were clearly planning something. Something they hadn't deigned to share with her.
"They sure are something else, aren't they?" A soft voice from Hermione's right said. Hermione exhaled heavily, letting her hands fall from her hips, only to secure themselves around the owner of the voice's waist; Lily Evans.
"That they are, Lils," Hermione nodded, her curls bouncing about wildly.
"Knowing them, they are probably up to no good you know," Lily guessed confidently.
"Oh, they are definitely up to something," Hermione responded. And I'm going to find out what, she added mentally.
In the corner of the room, Alice was happy that no one was paying attention to her. Otherwise, they may have noticed how Frank and her hadn't been spending as much time together as of late. Alice drew her knees closer to her, and her eyes bored into the text resting against her thighs.
Alice's solitude was soon interrupted, as Hermione and Lily had strolled over to her, and plopped down onto the ground beside her. Lily's legs stretched out in front of her, and Hermione laid her head in Lily's lap, instantly curling up on her side—her skirt and legs tucked underneath her.
Alice smiled warmly at the two girls. They were her best friends. Part of her wished they'd have noticed the distance between her and Frank by now, but truthfully, she was glad they hadn't.
Alice knew Hermione was busy keeping all her boys in line, and she admired the way Hermione and Remus were still inordinately close despite their break up. She wished her and Frank could be like that; her own break up was surely riding in on the horizon. She'd known it was coming from the moment Frank asked her, "do you think we're too serious for our age?" He'd brushed the comment off, telling her to forget he'd said anything. How could she? The blond boy had then proceeded to kiss her temple, before he went back to his game of wizard's chess.
Alice closed her book, carefully placing it beside her. The girl let her chin come to rest in between her knees, and wrapped her arms around her shins.
Lily's face was alight with laughter, but Alice knew her thoughts were elsewhere, squarely locked on a messy haired, bespectacled boy with hazel eyes. She knew Lily's pride would never let her admit that.
"What about you, Alice?" Hermione asked, mischief sparking across the lioness's face.
"Hmm? Sorry, I missed that," Alice blushed, scrunching up her nose in embarrassment. She supposed she'd also been on an adventure in her thoughts.
"Who would win in a fight—no magic, simply hand to hand combat, Marlene or Emmeline?" Hermione repeated her question.
Alice's eyes flicked to the ceiling as she pondered the question. "I have no idea. Marlene is crafty and cunning, but Emmeline is so creative…"
Hermione pursed her lips, "that is a good point. I still think Marlene would win though."
Lily and Hermione began to further discuss the logistics of the hypothetical fight, and Alice exhaled softly, permitting her thoughts to travel once more.
Blond hair. Blue eyes. Frank. All Alice could think about was Frank.
Friday, February 4th, 1977
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Shrieking Shack
Full Moon
Moony and Paws rolled around the room: Paws had jovially tackled the sandy haired werewolf a while ago, and the pair had been playing ever since.
Prongs was busily scratching his antlers against the walls, angling his head this way and that.
Padfoot and Foxy were doing a dance of their own: the Grim was chasing after the sly fox, whilst she bounded around and around, avoiding capture.
Wormtail was spread out on his back on like a starfish in one of the corners, tuckered out, and choosing to now stay out of all the frivolity. His little chest rose and fell in swift beats, and his tail swished from side to side.
Eventually, they all lay in similar positions, fatigued and worn out; having worked off all their excess energy.
Heavy panting, and a scratching noise as Prongs continued to wear a hole in some of the wooden panels filled the room.
In human form, James had taken to rubbing the crown of his head against his bedpost. Hermione told him it was that time of year—whilst winter was still here, Spring was hurrying along, and before they knew it, she'd be here.
Utterly spent, it didn't take long for the animagi to slip off into a deep slumber.
A few days later, they were all keeping a great deal of racket before their next class commenced. Sirius was serenading Draco with one of the songs off David Bowie's new album, Low. (Sirius had eagerly been awaiting the release of the new album, and the day after—January fifteenth—he snuck out and got it.) Sirius had sadly only had time to learn a couple of songs. He'd to return to Hogwarts before anyone noticed he was gallivanting about Muggle London. Some kind Muggles had allowed him to come and borrow their record player for a bit, as long as they got to listen to it as well.
Hermione later scolded him for that, telling him that could have been murderers or something equally as nefarious. Sirius snorted, and cheerfully informed her they were a couple of horny women in their early twenties. Hermione quirked an eyebrow at that, but chose not to comment further, she simply flicked his ear and strode away.
James, Hermione, and Remus had their heads ducked together as the boys finally filled Hermione in on what they'd been planning—their timing was a bit poor, but she was so excited to find out what it was, she didn't care, plus Muffliato was her friend. (It wouldn't happen for a while yet, but they thought it was high time they told her.)
The other students were boisterously chatting away. Some about all the homework they had, or other errant things, but most of them were gossiping about the events that had played out that morning; a loud declaration of love from Lysander Smith this morning at Breakfast, which had been directed at Emmeline Vance. He'd grinned cockily at the girl, but she'd waved her wand, and tipped a pitcher of orange juice over his head for his trouble.
It'd apparently been a dare from his mates, and Lysander was never one to back down from a challenge. Something made abundantly clear by the fact that his flirting with Hermione had only gotten more brazen and more frequent.
Draco always saved her before it got too bad, and when they were alone, she would reward him with a searing kiss. Which was shortly followed by a playful swat, cause Draco couldn't help but make a sly comment. 'It is partially your fault, you let the bloke think he has some skin in the game.'
The boy in question was sat in the back of the classroom with his mates, legs spread wide as he drank in all the chatter. If anything, it only made the boy feel better about himself.
"I see we're all very excited this morning," a cool voice from the front of the room said.
Immediately the room quieted, students hurried back to their designated seats, straightened their belongings up, and gave their undivided attention to the witch at the front of the class. Except Sirius. Who turned his loud ministrations from Draco to Minerva McGonagall.
McGonagall rolled her eyes, waving her wand and non-verbally casting a Silencio on Sirius. Undeterred, the wizard began to prance about, dramatically flinging his arms around as he glided around the room.
"Petrificus Totalus," Minerva sighed, pointing her wand directly at Sirius, freezing him in place: his legs were outstretched, as if he was ready to leap off the ground, and his arms were raised above his head, hands curved towards each other.
"Now, if you shall all be so kind as to turn to page two hundred and nine in your textbooks, we can resume from where last week's lesson left off," Minerva said primly. The witch strode over to her desk, emerald robes flowing out behind her. She rifled through short stack of parchment until she found what she was looking for.
Minerva plucked a piece of parchment off of her desk, strolled in front of her desk, and then gracefully perched herself on the edge of it, one leg crossed over the other.
There was silence with the exception of the turning of pages as the students sought out the page they'd been instructed to find.
"Since you have no problem vocalising your thoughts and feelings to the masses, Mister Smith. I trust you won't mind reading the second paragraph at the top of the page aloud for us," McGonagall said, glancing at the parchment once more before turning her attention to the boy at the back of the class.
Lysander froze, he was in the middle of whispering a joke to the boy on his left about Sirius when she'd called his name.
Hermione had to hide the smirk on her face as Lysander scrambled to find the aforementioned paragraph—his book was only open to page one hundred and three, having given up searching halfway through. Serves him right, Hermione thought, highly amused.
Minerva cocked her head to the side, her sharp green eyes watching the boy very carefully. "Next time, instead of joking about Mister Black's situation, you'll pay attention in my class, Mister Smith."
Soft snickers erupted from the other students, but they halted all too quickly when McGonagall shifted that keen gaze on all of them instead.
"Miss Potter, would you care to do the honours," McGonagall requested, neatly placing the bit of parchment beside her, and folding her hands together across her knee.
"It would be my pleasure, Minnie," Hermione sent a wink her Professor's way, garnering a swift eye roll from the witch.
Hermione smoothed down the pages of her text, scooched forward in her seat, and vociferously read the required text aloud.
The rest of the class went by smoothly: Minerva released Sirius when she deemed that his punishment had lasted long enough. The boy had sulkily slunk back to his seat—right next to James. Then Minerva broke the class up into pairs, and they started working on the practical side of the new topic they were learning.
After class concluded Hermione found herself thrown over one of James's shoulders—Draco and Sirius were tasked with carrying all their book bags. Lily loudly voiced her disapproval as she marched after the siblings, but James simply broke out into a light jog—which meant Hermione was clutching to him for dear life. The redhead's cried echoed out after the trio long after they disappeared around the bend.
"Oi, Potter," Draco heard behind him, and the smile on his face curled into a light sneer. Smith. The perpetual thorn in his side.
"Yes?" Draco asked, a touch unkindly. Draco had very limited interaction with the Ravenclaw, and he liked to keep it that way. This was mainly aided by the fact that Lysander had avoided Draco for the most part since their encounter last year; the same encounter that led to Draco and Hermione getting together. In a way, he supposed he was grateful to Smith for that, but mostly, Draco really loathed the bloke.
Draco spun on his heel to face Lysander. The blond had an easy, vibrant grin on his face, his pearly whites on full display. Draco was the complete opposite, icy gaze, a dark annoyance punctuating his features, yet, Lysander's smile did not waver. He has such a punchable face, Draco thought.
"Do you know if Hermione's got a date to Hogsmeade this weekend?" Lysander asked, his tone far too friendly. It was also the weekend before Valentine's Day, Draco didn't have to be a genius to figure out what Lysander's game plan was.
"What are you twelve? Ask her yourself," Draco said icily, bending slightly so he and Lysander were eye-to-eye.
"Dray," Remus said from his left.
"Everything's fine, Remus. It's just Smith here can't seem to get the hint that Hermione just isn't into him," Draco drawled, a mocking grin growing on his face until his canines were exposed.
For such a smart wizard, Lysander never knew when to keep his mouth shut, "she was all over me at the end of last year, she was really into me then—"
This was news to Remus and Sirius, and also to Peter, who gasped loudly. Thankfully all of the other students aside from Lysander's buddies had cleared out.
Draco didn't think, he just moved. Draco slammed his fist into Lysander's face, knocking him off his feet. Draco was just about to go down to the ground to smash his knuckles into Lysander's pretty face again—cause that felt good—when a terse voice stopped him, "Mister Potter!"
Draco tore his gaze from Lysander, only to settle on Minerva's form. The witch stood in the doorway of her classroom, her attractive features hardened and twisted into a disappointed grimace.
"Don't talk about my sister like that," Draco spat at Lysander. The blond was laying on the ground, flabbergasted and still processing what had happened. Calling Hermione his sister was always strange.
"Mister Potter, my office, now," McGonagall commanded sternly, turning on a side, pointing back inside the room from which he'd just left. "I suggest the rest of you make yourselves scarce."
"But McGonagall, Draco didn't—" Remus attempted to come to his best mate's defense, and Sirius was right there alongside him, but the witch hit them with a severe look, thus silencing them both. Peter had taken several steps back, and was worriedly watching everything unfold.
"It's fine," Draco said, sending a meek smile at Sirius and Remus. He handed Remus Hermione's book bag, and fixed him with a knowing look. Silently communicating, "keep Sirius from going after Smith."
Draco adjusted his bag strap on his shoulder, shoved his hands in his trouser pockets, and stepped over Smith, languidly strolling over to Minerva, pausing briefly beside her. Draco exhaled deeply, and then re-entered the Transfiguration classroom. He reached the front row of desks before he heard the door click shut behind him.
Draco faced his Professor once more as she slowly approached him, and in that moment, he knew that she knew.
Minerva stopped a few feet in front of him, her jaw worked quietly, her foot tap, tap, tapped against the stone, and she busied her hands by adjusting her skirt. "You know what I'm going to say."
"Brawling is for Neanderthals?" Draco tried, a soft and light air to his tone.
"You mustn't let your feelings for her get the better of you, especially over something as petty as Lysander Smith shooting his mouth off," She said, folding her arms over her chest.
Draco didn't trust himself to speak, so he didn't.
Minerva shook her head a touch, "you are a complex young man, Draco Potter. You are also very gifted."
Draco's lips did not move, not a sound exited his mouth. What did that have to do with him decking Smith?
Minerva groaned, and then more seriously she said, "don't squander the chance you have both been given."
"I'm not," Draco said defensively, fiddling with his bag strap. He truly had no idea where this was going.
"My point is, Smith is not important to you, there are others that are. If I can garner anything from past conversations, some of those people won't be around in the future. Spend time with them, and less time on things that aren't important to you."
"It was just one punch," Draco grumbled, her words struck a nerve. Only serving to remind him that time just kept slipping away from them.
Minerva pursed her lips, ignoring his comment, "I'm not giving you detention this time, but I will trust that you won't be getting into any altercations with Lysander Smith—or anyone else in the future."
"Not unless they deserve it," Draco responded honestly.
"Draco."
"Not unless they start it first," Draco amended, and from the droll look she was giving him, he decided to tack on, "self defense."
"That's probably as good as it's going to get," Minerva sighed, closing the distance between them, unfolding her arms, and resting her hands on his shoulders. "Do try to stay out of trouble, Potter."
"Don't I always, Minnie?"
A loud snort. The witch released him, and dismissively waved over her shoulder as she strode around him, "off you get, Potter. You're already late for your last class of the day."
In spite of that, Draco didn't rush to his next class. He strolled. It was as if he was in the middle of a field, basking in the sun, and revelling in the lovely day. Minerva's words coldly echoed in his head, but he shoved them away, and the pleasure of his fist connecting with Lysander's nose came back.
He'd been wanting to do that for the longest time. Draco had a feeling that they wouldn't be hearing much of Lysander for a while. That precious diamond of a thought caused a smile to break out on his face. A smile that was gruffly rubbed clean off of his face when he caught sight of Hermione awaiting him outside their next class. Bollocks.