Fall Through Time

by Indieblue

A witch and wizard tumbled back in time, and everything flipped upside down. Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy are stuck in the past, with no one else to rely on but each other. "I may not like you, Malfoy...but no matter what happens, we have to stick together." Dramione. Non-canon. (Remione included.)

218. A Walk Down Memory Lane

Hello lovelies! Happy Friday!

This is a beast of a chapter. A wondrous one, but a beast nonetheless. Hopefully you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. It's over 15k words, officially making it the longest chapter in the story.

I am sorry about some of the sad things that happen in this chapter, I really am x

Please leave a review and let me know what you think x

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Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, and only the story line and any OC's belong to me

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Harry dodged as a snowball whizzed inches past his face. Wide-eyed he faced forwards, marvelling as his hot breath created wispy clouds in the air in front of him. It felt so real.

"They were so small, weren't they?" Ron asked. The ginger was beside Harry, a hand on his best mate's shoulder. Harry nodded eagerly, awestruck by the memory unfolding in front of his eyes.

Hermione had ushered Ron into the room during Breakfast, and announced that today was finally the day. They'd all blinked at her blankly, and the tips of Ron's ears went pink as everyone shifted their gazes to him.

"Memories, we're going to show them our memories today," Hermione elaborated upon realising how vague she'd been. The pack had been working on fine-tuning their selection of memories over the past weeks, trying to have a wide variety, even if frequently there was some overlap. They'd completed their compilation a few days ago, and today felt right to explore the past.

Riley, Sirius, Remus, Hermione, and Draco had provided the memories, and everyone save for Daphne and Teddy had entered the pensieve that morning.

"I'll take Teddy to Greengrass estate for the day, the ducks have returned to the pond so we can feed them for a bit and go for a walk in the gardens," Daphne said thoughtfully.

If not, Andromeda would also have gladly taken her grandson for the day, and they'd have gone to Sett Cottage. She was there almost every day assisting her sister and brother-in-law with their newborn.

Hermione's brow puckered. "You can join us if you wish, Daph."

"Thank you, Mione," Daphne smiled primly as she shook her head. "I might ask to see them someday, but I think today is just for family."

"You're family too, Daph," Draco commented as he sipped his apple juice.

"You're the person Harry's chosen to spend the rest of his life with, I think that makes you one of us," Hermione said. She left Ron's side and headed over to the opposite end of the room. Harry sat at the Head on the far end, and Daphne always sat on his right. Hermione reached out to tuck Daphne's long hair behind her ear.

Daphne's bottom lip quivered and she nodded soundlessly. Her pale pink lips parted as she gathered her words. "I would be honoured if you would share them with me in the future, just…"

"Not today," Hermione finished.

The pack had viewed a reel of memories already, the first days when Hermione and Draco arrived in the past, that first month living at Potter Manor with their new family, and the sorting ceremony to name a few. Hermione had stared at Draco in a new light after being privy to the emotions attached to those events.

Draco had flushed as they all stared at him anew. The boy's uncertainty, yet seeing the kindles of affection and trust he held for Hermione—and consequently the other Potters—come to life, was fascinating to experience.

Harry considered their first day in the past and how much Hermione and Draco had changed since then.

"Albus says that you are from the future," McGonagall says as a greeting. Hermione had to restrain herself from leaping from the bed and excitedly embracing her favourite teacher.

"What else has he said?" A deep voice said over Hermione's shoulder. Hermione peeked backwards and saw Draco passing through her curtains on the other side.

Platinum-blond hair that glowed in the early morning light, angular features, high cheekbones, silver-grey eyes, pink lips, arched eyebrows that matched his hair. Draco's black button down was undone at the top and he'd rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. His top was tucked into his fitted black trousers. The lines of his clothing revealed his lean, muscular form. His polished, black, dragonhide shoes gleamed as he strode around Hermione's bed.

Draco oozed arrogance as he perched himself beside Hermione; there was enough room between them that there was no chance of them touching. His posture impeccable, his hands lazily folded in his lap. He appeared almost bored as he gazed up at the Headmaster and Transfiguration Professor, but he was tapping his fingers together impatiently.

Draco had teased Hermione before pressing a kiss to her temple as they felt memory Hermione begrudgingly admit how pretty Draco was.

Harry was baffled when they'd gone through James and Lily's memories a couple months ago. It hadn't been anything like when Dumbledore guided him through multiple memories in his sixth year. These were the same; an immersive experience where all of his senses were being engaged. Harry was beginning to understand what Ron had experienced in Sirius and Remus's memories.

The cold prickled across Harry's skin and he tasted pine in the air as the memory melted away into the land of grey. The intermediary space that housed them in the gaps between potent memories.

Hogwarts halls formed around them from the mist. Harry saw a tiny, pale haired witch shyly leading a pack of giggling girls in Hogwarts robes that were a touch too big for them. The top of the girl's head barely reached Harry's ribcage.

Several feet in front of the girls, coming from the opposite direction were the Marauders; they had just come around a corner. Sirius and Hermione were at the front, James and Remus in the middle, and Draco and Peter rounded off the back.

Young Sirius Black's head turned towards the peals of excited chatter that had ramped up with the Marauder's appearance. Riley and Sirius's eyes met, as if they were drawn together. Sirius's eyes widened before he tripped over his own feet and landed face-first on the stone floor.

The Marauders didn't even bother to stifle their laughter, they burst into joyous sound. James was bracing against Remus and clutching his sides. Remus was the only one attempting to hide his mirth. Peter was laughing, but he seemed perplexed as to why they were laughing.

Young Hermione sent Riley a warm, knowing look. Waves of confusion washed over Harry—residual emotions from the memory—as the younger girl tucked her pale hair behind her ears and cocked her head to the side.

Memory Riley stepped forward as if she was going to help Sirius up, it was amusing, but concern won out. She was drawn to the older boy. Before she could close the distance, Draco bent at the middle and heaved his friend to his feet.

Draco fussed at Sirius with a crooked grin, straightening out his robes and dusting them off. Sirius's face was scarlet with embarrassment. Sirius partially covered his face with his hand and averted eye contact with the younger Hufflepuff at all costs.

Memory Draco reached over to wipe a smudge of dirt from Sirius's cheek. Sirius grumbled under his breath, grabbed hold of Draco's forearm and hurriedly dragged his friend past the giggling group of girls.

Riley didn't allow herself to stare after him like the other first year girls were. She was busy watching Sirius's remaining friends whisper and snicker amongst themselves. As if they knew something she didn't.

The rest of the Marauders neared, and not for the first time, Harry was shocked by how small they were. Harry caught himself staring intently at James, eager to savour every second he could.

The bespectacled boy rumpled his raven hair, one eye squeezed partially shut as a bashful expression overtook his features. "Morning ladies!" The other girls gathered together, their whispers racketing up in volume as they blushed and swooned over their upperclassmen.

James met Riley's eye, and purposefully inched closer to her to say for her ears alone, "he's not normally that clumsy." One crooked smile later, James ran off to catch up to his friends. He jumped on the sandy blond haired boy's back and yelled, "onwards! To victory!"

The group was drawn from the memory, the greys were darker this time, the fog around their feet thicker. None of the others seemed to notice. Harry shrugged it off.

Hermione was on her tiptoes, squeezing Sirius's cheeks and teasing him. The man gave a good-natured laugh and gently pried her off of him.

"Promise me you'll show that memory to your child when they're eleven," Hermione pleaded with Riley. The other witch's eyes sparkled and a laugh tumbled from her lips.

"You witches are conspiring against me and I do not approve," Sirius sulked. Any further discussion on the matter was put on hold when they were forcibly sucked into another memory.

Cold seeped into Harry's skin, an unforgiving cold. It wasn't snowing and there were still some leaves desperately clinging to the trees, but it was cold. The Carrow twins had cornered James in one of the courtyards. Severus was leaning against a tree, watching them circle James with their wands, taunting him.

Harry couldn't hear anything being said, and in his peripherals he caught movement. Twelve year old Draco Potter was sprinting towards the group with his wand out. His feet made nary a sound; he must have placed a silencing charm on them.

From what Harry could see, James was verbally outwitting the Carrows. The twins were snarling and appeared outraged, whereas quiet confidence clung to James. Harry spotted the tips of James's bare fingers quivering with nerves or from the cold, or a combination of the two.

Draco inserted himself into the altercation, evening the odds. Snape left his impassive position by the tree and got directly involved. Hermione arrived shortly thereafter, keen to put a swift stop to the unnecessary scuffle.

"Mione looks very calm…should we be scared?" James whispered to his brother.

"Very," Draco grinned, a gleeful expression on his face. He made to sit down, and he pulled James onto the ground with him to watch the show about to unfold.

The observers were pulled from the memory and instantly shoved into another one.

"Dammit, how did I forget this one was here?" Sirius cursed himself under his breath as he stepped side-to-side. At a complete loss as to what he needed to do.

"Need a little help there?" Hermione asked, leaning against the wall a few steps away.

"You little minx! You moved it didn't you?" Sirius grumbled.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Hermione shrugged innocently, batting her eyelashes at him.

"Kiss me on the cheek and get me out of this," Sirius pleaded.

"Say please," Hermione sang gaily.

"Please, Mione."

"Admit that you have feelings for Riley," Hermione smiled sweetly.

"You play dirty," Sirius glared at her.

Hermione laughed at the memory Sirius had chosen to share. Riley snorted, laughed and side-hugged her friend.

"You sly witch," Riley complimented Hermione as she watched memory Sirius war with himself over his next course of action. Hermione beamed, rather proud of this moment, it was one of the first times she'd reversed a prank on the boys.

"I'm just bargaining."

"Like you didn't plan this," Sirius rolled his eyes.

"How was I going to know they would send you to 'keep me occupied'?" Hermione placed her hand to her chest, feigning ignorance.

Sirius may be stubborn, but Hermione was worse, neither of them backed down. Light grey eyes met warm hazel ones.

Sirius heard footsteps bouncing off of the walls as they got closer. Swallowing his pride, he knew that Hermione was his best chance of getting out of this mess before someone else came along and he got stuck with someone unwanted.

"I like her, ok? I have this weird connection with her and I like her," Sirius confessed, Hermione sauntered over to him, a satisfied smirk on her face.

The lull between memories was longer this time. Long enough for Remus to throw a couple sly comments in Sirius's direction. A dreamy expression of nostalgic warmth was present on Riley's features as she was drawn back in time.

Harry had once asked Riley what it was like being forgotten by her loved ones for almost two decades. She had smiled absently and said she wasn't forgotten, not really. Harry was beginning to understand what she meant.

The feelings and her large impression on their lives hadn't disappeared whilst she'd been forgotten. The Marauders had always been searching for the missing three members of their pack.

The connection they all share is something that happens once in a lifetime if you're lucky, Harry thought. He was lucky to be a part of that connection, and blessed to have forged a similar one with Hermione and Ron growing up.

A speck of greed clogged Harry's throat for a moment as he wished that James and Lily had been able to meet Ron. They would have loved him.

The strings that connected them persisted on, even if their mortal bonds had been snapped or severed, they weren't gone. Their hopes, love and dreams lived on within the pack.

The greys bloomed into colour once more, and everyone fell silent as they watched Dorea Potter talk to her young daughter. Harry wished he could have met the woman, as well as his grandfather; they seemed like the best sort of people.

"This is after we all left the room," Draco noted with interest. Hermione had alluded to the contents of this conversation before, but none of the specifics.

Dorea and Hermione were sitting on a loveseat in one of Potter Manor's drawing rooms. Harry caught sight of the cold, frozen environs outside the room. A layer of frost covered Charlus's coveted gardens.

"You don't need to worry about your Father or I not approving of your relationship with Draco when or if you actually get together, just—"

"No one else can know. We're twins to the rest of the wizarding world. It would be seen as immoral, wrong and unjust," Hermione murmured, a desolate expression replacing her pained one.

"I should be the last one to judge. The Black family has been interbreeding for generations. Besides—" Dorea gave her a cheeky grin, "—who gives a shite about the rest of the wizarding world?" Dorea laughed.

The subsequent memory flowed seamlessly from the other.

"We have been acting oddly, things have been…strange since I told you I kissed Sirius," Hermione started.

They were in the drawing room, in different outfits from the last memory, but Harry had a feeling that only hours had passed.

"I—I wasn't expecting it, and I guess I needed time to wrap my head around it," Draco stammered over his words. Normally Draco pondered and weighed out his thoughts before he spoke, it was unusual to hear him stumble when talking.

"Why?" Hermione asked, her tone deceivingly calm. The uneven, rapid ghost of a heartbeat overlaid over Harry's own told another story.

"Don't know, it was just…weird," Draco said, breaking eye contact. Hermione's brow furrowed but the young girl didn't press further. Hermione and Draco were seated on opposite ends of the couch, but facing one another.

Hermione's knees were drawn to her chest, her arms wrapped around her legs, and a knit blanket was loosely tucked around her lower half. One of Draco's legs was bent and resting comfortably on the couch, his forearm laid across it.

"Mum says she knows we aren't siblings."

"What?" Draco asked, surprise slamming across his features. He leaned forward and gestured for Hermione to continue.

"Dumbledore told her, she's known since before she met us."

Draco made a noise in the back of his throat. "That explains some things."

Hermione was smugly watching the moment, staring up at Draco. The wizard was obstinately avoiding her gaze with an unimpressed face.

"Told you," Hermione sang, poking Draco's side.

Draco squinted at the memory. "I have no recollection of this conversation. You must have doctored this."

Hermione snorted crudely and shook her head. "Bollocks. You just don't like admitting when you're wrong."

Draco half-smirked, ducking his head down to her level. "And you do?"

Harry's eyes widened as the ground slipped from under his feet and he was soaring through the sky.

Twelve year old Draco Potter was on his broom in the air beside Harry. Gentle snow was falling from the sky. Draco's arms were outstretched on either side of him, his head tipped towards the sky, his mouth open and his tongue out.

On Draco's right, Charlus was languidly flying, his hazel eyes sparkling, his dark hair covered in a light dusting of snow.

The remnants of sensation laced through the memory revealed that the winter wind was cutting through Draco's thick layers—even with the aid of a warming charm—but he didn't seem to care.

"Are you and Hermione better now?" Charlus threw out casually. Draco stiffened, his hands fell forward and loosely gripped his broom.

A contortion of emotions passed over Draco's features. His lips parted to speak, and then his lips pressed into a thin line as he contemplated his next vocalised thought.

Charlus's mouth curved into a smile as he affectionately observed the internal conflict waging siege inside Draco. "We don't have to talk about it if you don't wish to."

Draco slowed to a halt, his grip tightening on his broom as he floated leagues above the ground, surrounded by wisps of cloud and open sky. The tops of the tall trees were just below them.

Charlus stopped, angling his broom toward his son. He rested his hands on his thighs and his left eyebrow quirked upwards.

Draco let out a soft sigh, averting his gaze as he spoke. "We're better. She—she did something I didn't expect, and I wasn't sure how I felt about it, so…"

"So you were at an impasse?" Charlus didn't appear surprised by Draco's words. The man's features softened as he surmised why Draco was upset.

"It's not something I have a right to be upset about anyway," Draco said, measuring out each word carefully as he spoke.

"You can't help the way you feel," Charlus said sagely, his lips pursed as he scratched behind his ear. "I think the best course of action is to talk to her, and let her know how you feel. Communication is one of the most crucial aspects of any relationship."

Pink tinged Draco's cheeks and his grey eyes snapped to his Father. Charlus had an amicable smile fixed to his face.

"Dad…"

"Sometimes we need to have difficult conversations, and discuss things thoroughly in a calm manner. Patience and thoughtfulness go a long way." Charlus chuckled softly to himself, his smile brightening.

Draco's face went slack as he stared at Charlus incredulously. The older wizard spoke in such a direct yet relaxed fashion. It was disarming and strange.

It was almost as if Harry had burrowed his way into Draco's head. Draco's feelings were Harry's, as were his thoughts. The wizard was so ensnared by the memory that he barely noticed the others watching alongside him.

"I don't know if I can do that. Talking about…feelings doesn't come naturally to me," Draco said, ducking his head to stare at his slightly pink hands—the unforgiving cold was nipping at his skin.

"And that's okay. The effort is what's important," Charlus shrugged. "If you don't express your thoughts, more oft than not it leads to unnecessary misunderstandings. It took me far longer than I'd like to admit to figure that out."

"Yea, but what if I say the wrong thing and make it worse?" Draco asked, his head still lowered, his expression blank as he smothered any outward reactions.

"What if you say the right thing?" Charlus replied. "We can't predict the future, son. All we can do is try our best, be honest but not unkind, and communicate."

"I'm not nice like the rest of you, if you haven't noticed," Draco grumbled.

Charlus snorted. "You aren't sweet like Candyfloss, but that doesn't make you a bad person, Draco. And I think you're selling yourself short. I think you're much kinder than you believe."

"Do you really think so?" Draco asked, his words as fragile as cracked glass as he raised his head. His eyes met Charlus's.

His Father had slowly closed the distance between them. Charlus reached out to put his hand on Draco's head. He affectionately ruffled the boy's hair. Charlus rested his forehead against Draco's, and warmth tinged every syllable that subsequently fell from his lips. "I know so. You're going to be just fine, Draco. I have a knack for these things."

"I—I love you, Dad," Draco said quietly, nearly inaudible with the wind and the soft quality to his tone.

"I love you too, son," Charlus smiled. He bumped his forehead lightly against Draco's. "Now, how about we have a friendly race back to the house? The loser has to help Mum clean up her study."

From prior memories Harry gleaned that Dorea was attempting to tidy up her study. She had been putting off purging unnecessary items and sorting through her files for months. She often went in there once a day, made a half-hearted attempt to clean, and ended up finding more interesting ways to occupy her time. Mostly, running around the Manor with her children and their friends.

Draco groaned. "Really? There are stacks piled as tall as me in there."

"You better not lose then," Charlus smirked. The man winked at Draco, and without another words, he untangled himself from his son and zipped away with a rambunctious peal of gaiety slipping through his lips.

"Hey!" Draco exclaimed, collecting himself and giving chase. The pair faded into the distance, and the clouds became darker and all sensation faded entirely. Harry was floating in nothingness, several feet off the misty ground, in the world of grey.

"Did he win?" Ron asked, lacing his fingers together and floating in a misshapen circle on his back, lazily kicking his legs.

The group was lowered to the 'ground' through some unknown force.

"Unfortunately," Draco grumbled. Remus went over and rumpled Draco's hair. Draco was highly unimpressed, but couldn't stop a smile from cracking onto his face as Remus good-naturedly teased him.

The changes in Draco were subtle in the memories thus far, but they were obvious to Harry. His impenetrable façade was cracking. Perhaps it was because Harry was paying such close attention to all the minute details in the memories he was being shown; he was actively searching for the changes.

Draco was slowly morphing into the man several feet away from Harry, and Charlus Potter had played a big part in that; as had Dorea.

Charlus and Dorea Potter had saved the friable, haggard boy that first arrived in the past. Unintentionally—through their unconditional love—they healed all the parts of Draco that he had sealed away or allowed to wither.

Hermione and the other Marauders had also contributed massively in their own ways in Draco's healing process.

It was a painfully slow process, but Draco was being unshackled from the impossible burden dropped on his shoulders as a young wizard forced into Voldemort's servitude. He was just Draco, he was free.

Harry wondered if Draco realised how profound the changes he'd undergone in the first two years were.

He must have realised it at some point, Harry mused.

Another scene formed. The air was crisp, honeysuckle and floral notes carried on the slicing breeze. The grass underfoot was dewy and springy.

The group was standing on one of the steeper inclines on Hogwarts grounds. On one of the hills on the way to Hagrid's Hut. Buoyant, lilting laughter tickled Harry's eardrums as a small redheaded girl sprinted through him.

Lily Evans let out a roar of joyous triumph as she scrambled to the ground, and without a moment's hesitation barrel-rolled down the hill.

Harry's eyes widened as Lily reached the bottom and jumped up with bright eyes, hands extended on either side of her head to the skies. Grass stained her clothes, her scarf askew and it almost slipped from her neck, her hair was in her face—at the wind's mercy—but she jumped up and down with abundant enthusiasm.

A cool sensation slipped through Harry as the memory of Hermione and Alice stepped to the hill's peak.

"You're mental you are, Lily Evans!" Alice yelled, her hands cupped around her mouth.

"Come on! You're wasting good daylight. We won't get to Hagrid's before dark at you two's pace!" Lily bellowed back. She swiped her hair out of her face, to no avail. The girls were making their way to Hagrid's for a spot of tea.

Hermione and Alice shared an uncertain look. "I'll do it if you do," Hermione offered with a shrug. Alice's lips were pursed, and she ruffled a hand through her short locks.

After a moment's thought, Alice blew a raspberry and grabbed hold of Hermione's hand. "Together then?"

The wolfish grin that overtook Hermione's features—showing all her teeth—made Alice's left eyebrow raise, but she didn't change her mind.

"Together!" Hermione agreed. The two girls ran down the hill at breakneck speed, their legs barely keeping up as the earth hurtled at them.

The pack—immersed in the memory— let out hoots and howls as they followed the young girl's lead, overtaking them in instants. Ron and Harry were swept up in the moment and hurriedly ran after them. The ground was both solid and non-existent.

This wasn't real, but blood thrummed in Harry's ears and the sharpness of the distinct wind that accompanied Spring cut through him. The bleak sun was attempting to fight through the fluffy grey clouds overhead.

When the girls were almost at the base of the hill, Hermione let go of Alice's hand and did a front tuck. She rolled the remainder of the way down.

Hermione ended up on her back, gasping for air between short snippets of laughter that came from deep in her gut. Alice collapsed beside her friend. Lily stood above them with glittering eyes of mirth.

"Onwards!" Lily announced.

Harry gasped as their environs twisted and folded into a streaky line before another setting was sketched into being.

Lily Evans leapt onto Remus Lupin's back, and sleepily requested he carry her the rest of the way down to the Great Hall for Breakfast. They were on the landing below the moving staircase leading up to the Gryffindor Common room.

Draco and James were several feet behind them, as were Kira and Nancy. The others were either already at Breakfast, or still fighting to get ready and leave Gryffindor Tower.

Remus's eyes went wide and his cheeks flushed pink, but he smiled softly and agreed. Lily nodded groggily, and contentedly tapped his cheek before she slipped into an easy slumber.

More time had passed, they looked older. Remus Lupin's limbs were more gangly, and the telltale marks of puberty were apparent amongst all the teenagers Harry could see.

Harry asked how old they were here, and Remus quietly mentioned this had been in the fall of their third year.

Then, as if a tape was being rewound, the onlookers found themselves shifting up the staircase and being dropped into the Gryffindor Common Room. It was markedly colder, all the lions within view were wearing thick jumpers and winter-appropriate clothing.

By the fireplace, the Marauders were sprawled across the furniture. Aside from Lily and Sirius.

"What's our essay for McGonagall about again?" Sirius asked his gathered friends.

"You haven't started your Transfiguration essay, Sirius?" Lily was aghast as she tapped her foot and wagged her finger in Sirius's direction.

Sirius groaned loudly and rolled over onto his stomach. He adjusted the pillow he'd been lying on so it was under his forearms and chin as he faced the fireplace. "It's due on Thursday."

"It's Tuesday," Lily pointed out. She kissed her teeth together and squatted beside Sirius. Sirius languidly angled his head in her direction and half-heartedly shrugged.

"Plenty of time, I'll be done in like half an hour," Sirius said pridefully. For a moment he distractedly reached up to ensure his hair was still in place. Satisfied, he closed his eyes and burrowed down into his large, soft pillow; he sank into it with a happy sigh.

Sirius had artfully arranged his hair so it covered a sizable pimple on the left-side of his forehead. He had bemoaned its appearance for almost forty minutes that morning. He only stopped when Draco lobbed a textbook at his head.

"If it will only take you thirty minutes, then you should do it now and get it out of the way," Lily grumbled.

"You're wasting your breath, Evans," James added, drawn from his conversation with his siblings. "He'll wait until the middle of the night tomorrow, and then wake us all up banging on about all kinds of hypotheticals. Also, might I add, you look lovely tonight." Lily rolled her eyes at James's crooked smile, and chose to not reprimand him for the evening. She was too focused on Sirius's cavalier attitude.

James was sandwiched between Hermione and Draco on one of the couches. Hermione's legs were resting across the boys, and the trio was sharing a blanket. Draco had a textbook in hand and was casually quizzing his siblings for their Charms test at the beginning of next week.

Lily harrumphed, and continued to list reasons why he should just do his essay now. He and the other Marauders had skived off the other day (to visit Remus in the Infirmary after the Full Moon), so Lily was concerned about their schooling.

Remus and Frank were on the other couch sharing notes from Herbology earlier. Peter was next to them, frowning at his annotated and beloved copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.

Peter was eager to impress Kettleburn. Care of Magical Creatures had skyrocketed to his favourite subject since they started their third year a few months ago. Taking into account his improvement in Herbology, it was clear that Peter excelled at nature and practical branches of magic.

(Peter was also more susceptible to magic that might corrupt the purity of those types of magic.)

Sirius pried open an eye, "how about a game of Wizard's chess, Evans? You win and I'll do my essay tonight."

Lily scoffed, narrowed her eyes and declared, "sod that. We'll settle this properly." Lily dove forward, and Sirius gaped as the girl shoved him. Seconds later the pair were playfully wrestling in between raspy laughter.

The memory was from November, the next one took a step back in time and was at the end of October. Uncharacteristically, it'd begun to snow early that year.

The third years were venturing into Hogsmeade for the first time. The boys and girls met in the Common room and headed down to the Entrance Hall together.

"Did you do it?" Draco whispered to Sirius.

"I most certainly did, mate," Sirius murmured back.

"What did you do?" Tonks inquired, running a hand through her sunflower yellow hair.

"Is this—?" Riley prompted.

Sirius nodded. "When I gave you the mug with your name on it."

The white mug with orange lettering had a spot towards the front in the upper kitchen cupboards. It was one of Riley's treasured possessions, and she'd kept it safe throughout the years. Even now, Sirius sometimes surprised his wife with a fragrant blend of tea leaves and spices for her to try. (From a small shop in Diagon Alley that specialises in the finest tea from around the world.)

McGonagall laid out the general rules, and Sirius gleefully pressed her buttons as he tended to, revelling in every second of their interaction. The Head of Gryffindor House had them come up one-by-one and hand in their permission slips before she sent them outside to wait.

This memory was special as the Marauders had all provided their perspectives for the moment. It happened on occasion, but it was becoming more frequent as the Marauders got older.

The various scents blended together, everything was louder and more brilliant because of Remus's heightened senses. The crowd of third years was tightly-packed together, and it was Harry who was in the thick of them. Chatter buzzed in his ears.

Memory Draco and Hermione's heads were bowed closely together, and Harry put in the extra effort to hear what they were talking about.

"What do you and James get up to when you think none of us are paying attention?"

The previous tension that had bunched Hermione's shoulders up unfurled. She blinked at Draco innocently, and the corners of her mouth twitched upwards, but she didn't reply.

Heady shock was palpable from Draco. "You're not going to tell me?" Draco's eyebrows rose. Fine threads of hurt lingered in the memory, but Draco did a remarkable job of hiding it.

"It's a good surprise, trust me, it's nothing bad," Hermione reassured him, moving her hand so she was grasping his, squeezing it gently before she let go.

"Was it a good surprise?" Harry asked the witch directly, and Hermione's eyes sparkled.

"You'll see."

(Shortly, he would see the Quidditch tryouts, and see Hermione soaring through the sky as though she belonged there. Seeing her getting on a broom earlier had been a shock. He knew she'd played Quidditch from everyone's stories, but seeing it was something else altogether.)

Harry saw Hogsmeade made anew. The quaint village's buildings gleamed, and wonder glittered in his eyes as they followed the various Marauders around on their first trip into Hogsmeade.

The sounds of the villagers' day lives were amplified. Some were shovelling snow that had built up in front of their doors with swipes of their wands. Others were wandering down to the shops, their footsteps crunching as they walked. Merriment zipped down the path towards the students as they sprang off in different directions.

Some older wix were bundled up in front of their home—thick blankets laid over them—obstinately sat out in the cold with piping hot tea and cheerily watching the third years.

It was a yearly ritual for some; to watch the third years as they explored Hogsmeade for the first time. To watch as wonder made their faces bloom with excitement, and their bright youthful eyes glittered in anticipation.

The creaking of the bookstore's sign as the wind knocked against it filled Harry's ears. He was funnelled from one place to the next, swept up in their glee.

Threads of dread tied around Harry's throat; Draco. He was worried about seeing Rosmerta again, and Hermione assured him it would be alright. It was fascinating to observe Hermione's words bleed some of the tension out of the boy. Fascinating to see how potent the calming effect she had on Draco was.

The teenagers were seated, Sirius flirted shamelessly with Rosmerta, who seemed amused but was kind in her dismissal of his pretty words. A round of butterbeer arrived. The buttery, fizzling taste melted over Harry's tongue.

Dancing on the bubbles popping around his eyes and in his mouth, Harry spun into a new memory.

Charlus's robust laugh came from deep in his gut. He clutched his sides, and doubled over on the sofa beside his wife. Dorea's hand was covering her mouth and a snort of laughter would erupt through the gaps between her fingers every few seconds.

Sirius's hair was golden and standing on end like he'd been electrocuted. James's skin was neon blue. Remus's hands were pink and sparkly. Hermione and Draco were each perched on one of the sofa's arms, staring incredulously at the other Marauders.

"Our calculations were a little off," Sirius grumbled. James sighed heavily and pinched the ends of Sirius's spiky hair.

"Just a little off, Padfoot?" Draco teased.

"Did you add in too much morning dew or too little motherwort?" Hermione inquired with a curious tilt of her head.

"Neither. Too much pearl dust," James said with a crooked grin.

"You three were trying to brew a love potion?" Draco asked with narrowed eyes.

"We were trying to figure out how to make Valentine's Day more interesting in a couple months," Remus shrugged. He cast a rueful glance down at his stained hands.

The jocund laughter continued as the scene shifted. It changed in pitch and composition as the six girls erupted in joyous noise. They were in the Gryffindor girls' dorm. The familiar warmth that came with Gryffindor Tower radiated over Harry's skin. Hermione confirmed that this was from their Fourth year.

Alice, Hermione, Lily, Kira, Nancy and Riley were gathered on one of the beds on the far side of the room. A mountain of sweets from Honeydukes was in the middle of them.

The girls were dressed in their various night clothes, and Alice was rubbing a small towel through her damp locks. After the girls returned from Hogsmeade, they showered and got ready for bed.

The girls' chatter was bright and Harry crept closer; the others followed. Lily was lying across Hermione's lap, head tilted to the side, a box of cherry bursts in hand. Hermione had parted Lily's hair down the middle and was braiding it into two.

Kira handed Riley a bright red box, and with a sly grin dared her to eat a handful of the spicy sweets enclosed. Riley peeked into the small cardboard box with pursed lips, and shrugged. Riley tossed a handful of pepper pops into her mouth, and her pupils blew wide.

"That's spicy," Riley exclaimed, her tongue—stained crimson—lolled out of her mouth, and she waved her hand over it. She bounced up and down on the spot, her limbs moving in a jittery manner. The Hufflepuff was sleeping over in the Gryffindor dorms, a plan she had neglected to discuss with her Head of House, but she was sure Professor Sprout wouldn't mind too much.

The memory ended, and they returned to grey surroundings.

"I miss Kira and Nancy," Riley said softly, the corners of her mouth turning downwards. The other Marauders made noises of assent. It's been two decades since they'd been in contact with either witch.

"We could try and track them down," Remus suggested, wrapping his arm around Tonks's shoulders. His wife neatly tucked into his side and beamed when he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"Do you think they want to be found?" Draco asked reticently.

"Probably not," Hermione answered.

Harry leaned into Ron and quietly asked, "do you know what happened to them?"

"Nancy's brother and Mother died in a car accident around the same time that Emmeline and Mary died. It was too much, so she wanted to leave the country, and Kira went with her," Ron supplied in a low whisper into Harry's ear.

A memory out-of-place. They are drawn back to the Marauders third year. The first fingers of sunlight are drawing back the night's curtains.

"You're doing brilliantly, Mione!" James called from the ground, his own broom held in his hand.

Hermione was thirty feet in the air, a beater bat in hand, hairline soaked with perspiration. They'd begun practicing with an actual bludger last week. Hermione was determined to do her best.

"I almost got battered on that last go!" Hermione yelled back. She blew out a frustrated sigh. George and Fred had made it look easy in the future.

Flying whilst holding a bat was difficult enough. Adding a menacing bludger that moved with murderous intent was almost cruel.

"Yea! But you didn't!" James hollered, he hopped on his broom with a quaffle in hand, and smoothly flew up to join his sister. He hovered beside her. "You've been working really hard, and even if you don't make the team this year…I'm really proud of you."

James's moment of sentimentality was interrupted as the bludger viciously whizzed through the air towards them.

"Duck!" Hermione said, and James's eyes widened as he blindly flattened himself along the length of his broom. Hermione pulled back her arm, and her bat smashed into the bludger with deft precision. It sailed away in a downward arc.

"I take it back, you have to make the team, or Prewett needs to get his head examined," James said as he straightened up.

Beater wasn't the most popular position, but it was judged as harshly as the others. A good pair of Beaters were a game-changer. They could alter the course of the match entirely if they were skilled enough.

"I guess we'll just have to wait and see," Hermione smirked.

Any lingering memories from the Marauders' third year flew by fastidiously.

The group is consequently thrust into a flurry of jovial memories from the Marauders' fourth year. Marlene and Mary become fixtures in the Marauders' stories.

Draco's drawn to Marlene, and Harry thinks it's because she represented everything he used to be. Shortly, Harry realised that Marlene had her own charm despite her callous words and colder exterior.

Memories tinged with Hermione's emotions as Draco and Marlene get closer squeeze his heart and befuddle his mind. The residual feelings imprinted on the memories affect him more than he thought they would. Harry witnessed and felt Hermione succumb to her feelings for Remus that had been building for a long time at that point. Almost simultaneously, Draco and Marlene begin courting.

Harry's conflicted as he observed the two love stories bloom and flourish at differing speeds and varying intensities. Harry snuck a peek at the three Marauders in question, and it's as if they are re-living the memories from the dreamy and rapt manner they are staring at the unfolding memories.

The relationships were right at the time, Harry concluded with a quick nod. They were right for who Remus, Hermione and Draco were at that stage in their life.

The remainder of fourth year and the beginning of fifth year played on a continuous reel. Harry wondered how long they'd been in the pensieve, but he didn't dare bring it up. He didn't want anyone to suggest they leave and view the rest another time. He was engrossed and committed to viewing everything they felt comfortable sharing.

Harry was caught up in the glorious, vivid memories of their fifth year. It was Halloween. The night had been dizzyingly fun: the deafening music, the drinks, the costumes and everything in between were entrancing. Harry found himself dancing, his body thrumming along with the music.

The night came to a natural conclusion, and tipsy, the Marauders snuck back into the Castle.

The events at the end of the night were a frigid shock to Harry's system. The news of Charlus's attack came in the small hours of the morning, and Harry's heart stuttered to a stop alongside the Marauders.

The subsequent memories captured everyone's attention. Hermione and Draco had never shared exactly what happened to them when Dumbledore spirited them away from St. Mungo's.

Harry was nauseous, his stomach flipped, his head was stuffed with cotton, his tongue as dry as the desert and his vision blurred. Navigating Hermione and Draco's memories as they were locked away in Dumbledore's office for two days was a miserable affair. The pair were wasting away.

Sirius snarled at a point, and stumbled over to the memory of Dumbledore and swiped his hand through the man's head. It was mere smoke that reformed in an instant. "Fucking bastard!" Sirius growled, his hands curling into fists.

Draco is the one who reluctantly ended their suffering. Hermione was strewn across Draco's lap, staring listlessly at the floor. She hadn't moved much in the past few hours, a worrisome fact that fought through his spotty, blurred vision.

Anger boiled in Harry's gut as Hermione and Draco amended their Unbreakable Vows. It wasn't from the memory, a scorching trail of ire was flying into Harry's chest from the strings connecting him to the other pack members. Remus, Riley and Sirius looked murderous, darkness clouding their eyes and shuttering their features. Ron must have felt it too, as he looked up from the memory and stared at them with raised brows. Harry and Ron were angry as well, but their feelings were being amplified through the pack bond.

"C'mon love. He may be a manipulative cunt, but he gave us chicken noodle soup," Draco drawled with an irritated look on his face.

"Cause chicken noodle soup makes up for all the shite he'll make Harry, Ron and I endure in the future by being vague and cryptic. It'll make up for keeping me locked up in this bloody office for two days," Hermione bit out.

Harry and Ron both inadvertently took a step forward at their names being called. Both boys shared a look, something fragile and precious took root in Harry's heart. She'd never forgotten them, deep down he'd known that, but to see and hear proof of such was incredibly touching.

Harry peeked at their companions, and his mouth parted in quiet shock. Remus's eyes glowed with molten gold, Riley's hair was undulating around her, and Sirius was crouched down, his teeth bared. Their bodies were vibrating with frustration as there wasn't anything they could do about the events they were witnessing. The man who committed the egregious act was long dead, and it had happened decades in the past.

If Harry hadn't been enchanted with his Grandmother before, his affections for the witch were secured as she fiercely defended her cubs. Dorea Potter was a witch to be reckoned with, a witch who was able to make frightening threats one moment, and switch to a soft motherly tone and kind demeanour in the next.

Somehow, the memories that followed were harder to watch. Something between Hermione and Draco was splintered, and it was heart-wrenching to see. Hermione retreated within herself, needing space. Draco needed her, but he let her go, and he bore the weight of what he'd agreed to on her behalf.

Draco remained at Hogwarts, and Hermione went back to Potter Manor with her Mother.

Draco was left to deal with what he'd endured—and the probing questions from his friends—on his own. Draco let them witness a private moment between Draco and Marlene as the girl pushed to find out what happened to him, and he eventually snapped.

Hermione guiltily reached up and pressed a kiss to Draco's jaw and muttered apologies. Draco bent to nuzzle the side of her face, and Harry guessed he was dismissing her concerns, whispering soothing things in her ear. The tension slowly bled out of Hermione.

Daphne told Harry that when Draco first saw her after his return he'd mistaken her for Marlene. The witch must have meant a great deal to him.

It was strange how Harry hadn't really wanted to learn more about Marlene before this. Now, he was invested in her story, and he was already dreading her ultimate demise.

Memory Draco was unravelling at the seams. He was lost, and the confinement he was experiencing because of his situation was written boldly across his face. Marlene comforted him, and with tears streaming down her cheeks she told him she loved him.

The days following were dour, and they caught glimpses of what happened until Hermione returned.

Hermione and Draco's dynamic shifted. It was palpable, and intense. The others noticed to some extent, but it wasn't as obvious if you weren't looking. For months they both dutifully pretended they were fine, but then it erupted spectacularly in a volcanic fashion.

The air was tense as their conversation began, the pair were in an alcove discussing how out-of-hand James's antics had been as of late. They were attempting to come up with a solution for his behaviour; an intervention was necessary.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Hermione asked quietly, aghast, her eyes widening.

"Nothing new, Potter. I'm the same wanker I've always been," Draco spat, whirring back around with cold fury in his eyes, his arms falling to his sides.

Hermione shook her head adamantly, "that's not true. What's wrong?" Hermione asked, softer this time, slowly approaching him. She took an uneven breath then, her hands shaking as she unfolded them—reaching out to touch his cheek.

Draco roughly caught her wrist, something she couldn't discern flashed in his eyes—they almost looked broken, sad—his features however, hardened as he said, "don't."

Hermione's stubborn streak flared to life, she set her jaw and moved closer, raising her other hand, but he swiftly caught that one too.

"What's wrong?" Hermione repeated, her voice barely a brush of sound this time. She had to steady her own heartbeat when she heard his quicken for a brief, brief moment.

The air was almost stifling then, so thick and she couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything but look at him and try to read what he was going to do.

Draco always kept his feelings bottled up, was always guarded; at least he was with everyone else. She thought she was different, that they could tell each other anything; yet there was always this small, nagging feeling at the back of her mind telling her that there was something major that he was keeping from her.

She saw the moment his walls crumbled, and his grip on her wrists loosened just enough for her to fling her arms around his neck. He caught her, burying his face in the side of her neck as they fell back against the wall.

"You left me," Draco choked out. He was softly shaking as he clung to her, and before she knew it, hot tears were rolling down her cheeks.

Merlin. She missed him. They'd both been wrong, stubborn, and headstrong. He was wrong for making a choice for her, and she was wrong for leaving in anger—for leaving him all alone.

Well, he hadn't been alone, but yet, in actuality, he really had been.

Hermione pulled back a little, and Draco raised his face just enough so that she could see him properly. She saw the tear tracks on his face, and she only then felt the moisture on her skin where his own tears had fallen.

She didn't think then, she just moved. She kissed away his tears, and she could taste the salt on her lips when she leaned back. They are close, so, so close. Her cheeks began to burn bright red, and Draco looked as if he was about to say something when a jarring, loud bang sounded just outside of their alcove.

"Fucking hell," Remus muttered as the pair scrambled apart and the memory faded into the land of grey. Hermione's head snapped up.

"Remus—"

"I'm not upset, Hermione," Remus interjected before the witch got the wrong impression. Hermione stiffened against Draco, her crumpled expression said she didn't believe him.

"I know you loved me, I can bloody feel it in these memories for Godric's sake…but your feelings for Draco? Merlin," Remus whistled lowly. Tonks nodded eagerly at Remus's side. The witch didn't seem bothered by Hermione and Remus's relationship or the depth of their affections for one another in the past. In fact, Tonks seemed delighted by it. Delighted that he'd been loved dearly before life had treated him cruelly.

(Harry resolved to be more openly affectionate with Remus. Harry has always deeply admired the man, and wished to respect his boundaries. He'd been Harry's Professor before once. Harry hadn't known how to act after their roles in each other's lives had shifted.

The memories were providing more context to all the Marauders, and Harry swiftly figured out that even if Remus wanted to have a closer relationship, he wouldn't be the one to initiate it.)

This wasn't the first time they'd witnessed a charged, electric moment like this between Hermione and Draco, but this one was striking. The depth of the pair's feelings must have sunk in for Remus at that moment.

"I never considered acting on them when I was with you," Hermione reaffirmed.

Remus nodded with a small smile. "I know, love. Besides, everything worked out as it was supposed to." Remus snuck a peek at Tonks, and his wife's hair was a powdery blue as she smiled up at him.

The consequent memory was set several days later. The back porch of Potter Manor, snow was cascading from the sky.

Hermione was using her heightened eyesight to pick out the crystalline details in the snowflakes that had fallen on the staircase below her. She was at the top of the stairs, a thick, woollen, black-knit blanket enveloped her.

The salt of the sea and pine surrounded them; Charlus Potter's crisp yet comforting scent. Harry watched Charlus exit through the back door and stride over to his daughter.

"Hi Daddy," Hermione greeted. Charlus smiled affectionately as he lowered himself to the ground, and settled in behind her. His legs were on either side of her, and his arms wrapped around her shoulders tightly. He rested his temple against the side of her head.

"Why is my lovely daughter freezing her arse off in the cold?"

"Just thinking."

"A sickle for those thoughts?"

Hermione melted backwards into Charlus's warmth, her smile wobbly. "Not at least a galleon?"

"If that's what it takes," Charlus replied, turning his head to kiss her curls before resuming his former position.

"I'm in love with Remus," Hermione started shakily.

"Is there a 'but' coming?" Charlus asked softly.

"You know Draco and I aren't actually siblings…things have been off since Halloween, and we finally talked about it a few days ago," Hermione continued. Charlus was a steady, silent presence. Gently, he rocked them back and forth in a soothing manner.

"And I—I'd forgotten how in love I am with Draco…is it possible to love two people at once?" Hermione asked almost inaudibly, tears leaking from her eyes. "Especially since I am so ridiculously happy with Remus?"

"We can't always help how we feel, darling," Charlus sighed heavily. "I don't think you should be punishing yourself over your feelings for Draco."

"And one day Remus will find—" Hermione choked on air, her words viciously ripped from her. Charlus's eyes widened and he instantly understood that the Vow was restricting her from divulging anything further.

Harry fought to breathe alongside the memory of Hermione, as did the others. Sharp claws were crushing his windpipe.

"My darling," Charlus said morosely, shifting so they were staring into each other's eyes. "It's okay, it's okay." Hermione's neck was strained as she fought for air. Charlus rubbed her back.

"Breathe, Hermione. It's okay, you don't have to keep talking," Charlus assured his daughter. A couple tears ran down his own cheeks.

"It's an incredible burden you and Draco bear, isn't it?" Charlus murmured as he stroked Hermione's cheeks, swiping away her tears. "I don't know what you know, or what your Vow entailed, but it's going to be okay, my sweet girl."

Hermione shook her head, her chest caving in on itself. Harry's own chest tightened painfully. "You don't know that," Hermione said with such fragility that Charlus's face crumpled. He pulled her into his arms. Hermione buried her face in the side of Charlus's neck.

With a gust, the scene was swept away. They were left speechless encompassed by their grey surroundings and the fog thickened.

"Do you think Charlus suspected the truth?" Ron asked. Heads turned sharply in his direction.

"Is that the impression you got?" Remus inquired. The Marauders were crestfallen, sobered by the latest memory.

"Maybe," Ron said. He languidly kicked at the mist swirling around them, his hands tucked into his trouser pockets.

Hermione's head was tilted upwards, at the endless black surface devoid of any light. A drop of dark memory fell from that blackness, and engulfed them.

The majority of their fifth year afterwards was filled with jubilant exuberance. Until, Harry was dropped into familiar surroundings. This time around, the smells were more potent, everything was much sharper. It was the aftermath of their Defence Against the Dark Arts OWL.

Harry was shot from one perspective to the next, the Marauders recollections of the event overlapping. Some things were different this time. Ron had already seen how this played out, but he perked up when they were given access to Hermione's section of the memories.

The Gryffindor girls gleefully playing around at the edge of the Black Lake, splashing one another was a stark contrast to the dark aura that settled over the Marauders across the way. Severus's suspicions and threats pumped fear and anger into their veins.

From the memories he'd been shown, Harry understood that the disdain, hexes and brawls were instigated equally across both sides of the aisle. This time, in James's mind, Snape crossed a unforgivable line; he was openly threatening to expose Remus's condition. Openly threatening Remus's future and life.

Most of the memory after that initial confrontation proceeded as Harry had first witnessed it. With the exception that he tasted Remus's shame, he shook with Sirius's anger, and he wallowed in Hermione and Draco's disappointment. Stings of pain came from the underside of his foot where Hermione had received a large gash.

Harry was perplexed by the catalyst for the altercation. In Snape's version, James and Sirius's treatment of him was unprovoked. Although he was a Master Occlumens and Legilimens, so maybe he altered the memory for some reason, Harry mused.

Harry also wasn't surprised that things had turned out the way they did since the Marauders and Snape's group fought at the slightest provocation from the other side.

Part of Harry mourned for Snape since he knows that this event is also the reason why Snape loses Lily. He'd seen glimpses of their friendship through the Marauders eyes (and he'd also gotten a better look from Lily's perspective in the memories she'd shared), and it saddens him considering how much Lily cared about Severus.

A series of life-altering events occur in quick succession: Snape and Lily's friendship officially ends, James and Mary break up, as do Draco and Marlene. Lily ignored James's existence, refusing to acknowledge his presence much less speak to him.

There are fissures formed amongst the Marauders, and tensions are at an all time high.

Hermione forgives Remus, and they seal the pack bond. The viewers weren't privy to the activities that led to the bond being sealed, but it was heavily implied by where the memory was cut off.

The morning after the pack bond was sealed was fascinating. The complex emotions bottled up inside of Draco leaked into the memory, and the ludicrous reactions from the other pack members is something to behold. Most notably, James shifted into Prongs and attempted to skewer Remus with his antlers.

Tonks was clutching her sides laughing at Remus sprinting around the lawn avoiding the incensed stag. Remus wasn't as amused.

Harry was mostly shocked that that was James's first reaction. However, it made sense with how protective of Hermione he was.

Time moved along steadily, until that fateful day in Diagon Alley when Remus encountered his mate for the first time. Draco forcibly apparated him away.

"I'm just that irresistible, aren't I?" Tonks teased as she poked Remus's ribs. His cheeks went pink.

Hermione was left on her own. Sadness tinged the memory, but there were tender undertones as Hermione interacted with little Tonks. The woman in question was enraptured by the scene. Tonks was crouched beside Hermione, watching the past version of Hermione interact with her younger self.

Hermione and Remus break up, and the world fractured and shattered around them. Both of them are devastated.

Hermione strolled over to Remus and squeezed his hand and tucked herself into his side.

They witnessed Remus falling apart in James's arms, trying to keep a brave face in front of the others. Draco accidentally stumbled across the pair outside the library. The Potter brothers helped stitch Remus back together.

Walburga tried to conscript her son into Voldemort's servitude. Harry's entire body was wrought with fright and tension as he watched the memories surrounding the events. Getting air in and out of his lungs was a laborious task.

The remainder of the summer flew by in a flash.

The Hogwarts Express, the Marauders were all squished into a compartment as they always were. They discovered Wormtail wasn't a part of their pack, and the compartment was suddenly a confining cage bound with discomfort and tension. Peter gripped his bag of chocolate curls and fled. Harry could see the beginning of the end forming in that moment.

Time marched on. It was obvious that something was bubbling under the surface and coming to a boil between Hermione and Draco. The couple was raptly paying attention to their partner as the memories played.

"How did no one figure it out?" Hermione murmured. Harry had to agree with the sentiment. The way the two stared after each other with longing and love was abundantly obvious, although he was actively looking for it.

The Halloween Ball was a magical event. Harry had never attended one since they abolished it out of respect for James and Lily. Harry wondered if he could convince the Manor's occupants to celebrate the day in honour of his parents instead. From what he'd gleaned about his parents, they would have wanted them to be happy. For it to be a day of celebration not mourning.

Time slowed, Hermione and Draco were dancing together for the briefest of moments. Harry's chest felt like it might implode, his heartbeat racing. He didn't know if it was him or the memory.

Sirius stole Draco away and the moment was quietly shattered, and Remus swept Hermione across the dance floor.

The Great Hall. Hermione spotted Draco through the throng of students excitedly gathered for their first apparition lessons. She slipped past them until she reached his side. Harry watched Hermione's eyes soften with affection before she squeezed Draco's hand and alerted him of her presence. From the way Draco had stiffened moments before, Harry suspected he'd heard her coming.

An amalgamation of heated, tiny moments that would be inconsequential to others, but meant the world to them kept building on top of each other. The electricity and promise was unknowingly building between the pair at a rapid rate.

Then, they collided. The pot boiled over and exploded. Draco came across Hermione snogging Smith. The onlookers were caught in the clamant waves of emotion crashing against each other.

The fighting led to an inadvertent admission and Harry's toes curled at the magical presence consuming the air around them.

They collided. The pair launched themselves at each other. A small ball of tension unravelled in Harry's gut, unknowingly he had been anxiously awaiting this moment. He'd been waiting for it since memories from their fourth year. Possibly, if he was being honest with himself, even earlier than that.

A dizzying, euphoric feeling swelled up from Harry's gut and filled his head with popping bubbles. The world burst with vibrant colour.

James interrupted the moment. The worry and fear that rose up—because of the revelation that James had witnessed everything—was hastily smothered and once more replaced with buoyant delight. James's world had been flipped upside down, but he wasn't upset or angry at them.

Hermione and Draco's bond was visible to the pack's eyes. Harry could sense it if he focused, and he marvelled at it. They arguably hadn't been fated to be together, but they had forged an unbreakable bond similar to a soul bond on their own.

Although, you could say that their mysterious trip to the past was fate playing its hand, Harry thought.

The memory melted into another.

"Miss Paddington!" James yelled voraciously as he sprinted down Hogwarts's corridors after the petite witch. Riley was laughing jubilantly as her legs carried her as fast as they could—they were a blur of movement—and her short hair whipped out behind her.

James was covered from head-to-toe in blue slime. He had shoddily attempted to swipe heaps of it off his Quidditch kit before he gave chase, but he wasn't too successful.

Their environs were bitterly cold, and it was foggy out. Riley had used that to her advantage to prank the Gryffindor Quidditch team as they went out onto the pitch for their early morning practice. She'd dumped the gloopy slime onto them as they walked out onto the pitch.

Sirius was so impressed and shocked that he was still rooted to the spot. The others were busily attempting to clean themselves off. Draco was grumbling about it getting under his fingernails. Their underclassmen rumbled with low groans, trying to discern what they'd done to get caught in one of the infamous Marauders prank wars.

"Maybe it's to get back at Black for breaking her heart so spectacularly last year," May grunted.

"What was the actual reason?" Tonks asked curiously, nudging her friend with her elbow.

Riley was triumphantly watching the memory. "Oh, it was a Wednesday," Riley shrugged as if that explained everything.

Harry was softly laughing with the others as the scene faded and they were ushered into another. Then another, and another, and another.

They witnessed Hermione and Draco meet Liam, a young boy who'd been tortured with the cruciatus curse by his own Mother.

They saw Hermione throw herself in front of Draco, taking a bludger to the head: it was one of the memories where the Marauders's views overlapped, the blackness overtook his vision for a second upon impact, and he watched Hermione slip off her broom and plummet downwards, and then he watched her limp body falling and Draco chasing her desperately. The aftermath in the Hospital Wing where Hermione feebly smiled and stated she did it because she loved Draco.

Harry's heart went out to his Mother as she wept into Hermione's arms over James. Lily Evans loved James Potter, even before she was willing to say it aloud. It was evident by her reaction after they'd learned of Kira and James's night together.

A myriad of other memories occur, and Harry was swept up in them. He was so engrossed that he was taken aback when the pungent, metallic tang of blood filled the air. Harry's body went rigid, steel rods had taken the place of his bones, and his movement was bound by stiff wire. Harry inhaled, and his instincts were forcibly thrust into fighting mode, and he automatically reached for his wand; some habits from the war lingered.

Harry sought out Ron. His taller ginger friend placed a calming hand on his shoulder and said, "it's okay, we're okay."

James wasn't. James was facedown, his back shredded like mincemeat as if he had been attacked by a million sharp, tiny blades. Hermione was screaming her throat raw as her hands pressed into his back and poured her magic into her brother. As she kept him alive until Draco, Sirius and Remus sprinted onto the scene with deathly pale faces.

Harry watched as Draco saved James's life. If Draco wasn't there, James would have died, and Harry would never have been born. Draco was one of the reasons Harry existed.

Harry hadn't realised he was crying as time skipped and he watched Hermione unglamour Draco's sectumsempra scars. Guilt shot through his system since he was the one who'd inflicted those injuries on Draco.

Harry hadn't realised Draco was at his side. The taller man pulled Harry's head onto his shoulder, silently telling him that it was okay.

An odd serenity washed over Harry with the next memory. Birdsong whistled against his ears, and the sunlight was softly pouring into the room.

"One second," Draco said in a calm tone, his fingers moving at lightning speed as he unbuttoned his white button down, and in a smooth motion he loosened his tie and slipped it up and over his head. Without looking Draco tossed it into the chair he'd previously been sitting in.

Draco's bare chest was now exposed, but he was out of James's line of sight, so he knelt on the ground in front of his brother.

James sucked in harshly. "Did Snape…?" James asked as he took in the web of scars; gobsmacked.

Draco snorted, shaking his head, "no. The how and why isn't really important right now. Hermione de-glamoured them yesterday, and...I thought you should see them."

James smiled dreamily, letting his head fall onto his fluffy pillow, and in a gay tone he said, "we match."

"Not exactly," Draco smirked, placing a hand on James's cheek. James looked almost like a child in that moment, pure joy radiating off of him, and the sunlight hit him in a way that made him appear young and innocent.

"Then...we complete each other," James tried, his brow drawing together just a smidge.

"Yea, I guess we do," Draco laughed lightly, and James's eyes drooped until they were fully closed.

The curtain was closed on the memory, darkness surrounded them, and they were artfully placed around the gardens around the back of Potter Manor. The sun was mercilessly pressing down on them, it was midday and there was hardly a shadow in sight.

The spot they were in was the shadiest for as far as the eye could see. Charlus and Draco were on the edge of the flower beds, their hands deep in the dirt, tending to the azalea japonica bushes. There was a burlap bag with a mixture of wood chips, pine bark and pine needles that they were going to sprinkle over the soil when they were finished.

"Remind me why we don't use magic at all again," Draco grunted as he secured his hands around a troublesome weed and leveraged it out of the soil by resting all his weight backwards. Dirt sprayed as the root came free and Draco collapsed onto his back. Charlus was a couple feet away, more precise with his movements, his dark shirt sticking to his sweaty skin.

"It's more beneficial for the plants. They're also happier because of it," Charlus said with a crooked smile. He stopped his task, and set his spade down on the grass beside him, the heel of his left boot was next to the weed he was working on. Charlus's other leg was bent and he drew his knee to his chest as he swiped away the sweat on his forehead with the back of his forearm.

Draco sat up and brushed the dirt off his sage green top. "You talk about them like they have feelings."

"Don't they?" Charlus asked with a mysterious smile. Charlus tugged his gloves off one-by-one and dropped them in his lap. "Anything worth doing takes time. The plants respond better the more love and effort you put into them. Besides, you're more connected to their inherent nature magic when you do things this way."

Draco's brow drew together, an indication that he thought his Father was speaking about more than just the azalea bushes.

Charlus let out a hefty sigh, and he thoughtfully considered their handiwork. "Your Mother is attempting to make handmade pappardelle for dinner much to Mipsy's chagrin."

Draco's eyes widened, "she tried to make a roast last week and almost set the kitchen on fire. I thought that would have stopped her from any more attempts at cooking for at least another month."

Charlus smiled tenderly, gazing up at the blue sky. "Doe isn't one to let a minor setback deter her."

After having observed countless memories of her at this point, Harry agreed. Dorea Potter was a force to be reckoned with, and she accomplished almost everything she set her mind to.

A drop of sweat ran down the side of Draco's face and in a low, conspiratory manner he whispered, "do you think we should pop out to the shops in London and find a takeaway? You know, in case things don't work out."

"There's that spot down in King's Square your Mother and I went to a few months ago with Reggie," Charlus said thoughtfully. "Their fish and chips was delicious."

"Should we finish up and then go pick some up then?" Draco asked. Charlus nodded with an impish smile.

"Hopefully your Mother will be grateful for the meal and won't hex us for it," Charlus chuckled.

The memory quietly slipped into another, the two wizard's laughter a muted sound in the background that petered out as their surroundings changed.

Harry knew he was meant to meet Killian, Orchid and Georgie soon, but getting introduced to them through the pack's memories was a precious experience. The care and attention the three of them put into their work was admirable, and he liked them. He'd seen all the tattoos in real life at some point or another, but it was special seeing them being inked onto the pack's skin.

Soft, muted surroundings. The morning sun's glare crossed Harry's vision. Draco's hair was sticking up oddly—mussed with sleep—and he was reclining on a loveseat with an open book resting on his chest. Dorea was crouched beside him. The pair have a brief, heartfelt exchange.

Harry hadn't looked at any of the Marauders or Ron during the memory, maybe if he had, he would have been prepared for what followed directly after.

The world tilted on its axis. Harry was grasping at his chest, unable to breathe. Hermione's anguished cries and Draco's volatile accidental magic filled every corner of his lungs. Harry had never met his Grandmother, but he acutely felt her loss.

Harry saw the Marauders fall apart, devastated by Dorea's death. He saw Hermione voluntarily lock herself away, he watched her wither in body and soul. Harry witnessed Draco drown himself in drink, trying to forget, trying to stifle and smother the agony his soul was enduring. Hope Lupin passed away shortly thereafter, and he saw how the two women's death affected the Marauders.

Harry had been dropped at the bottom of a dark abyss with the Marauders. They clawed their way out, they fought to find the light again. Dorea and Hope's death were open wounds slowly healing over.

The air tastes different now, and the Marauders are different in the memories that follow. Loss changes you, even if you remain the same at your core, you'll never be the same person you were before you endured that dreadful pain. Harry thought of Cedric, the first person he'd truly lost and how much it had scrambled him up inside.

Sometimes, Cedric's glassy, unseeing gaze still haunted Harry's nightmares.

The Marauders' seventh year started in a more unassuming, quiet way than their prior years had.

The week after the Marauders played a prank on the Ravenclaws to make their entire house look like their skin was star-speckled sky. Dorcas, Emmeline, Hermione, Alice and Lily are waiting on one of the moving staircases. There was a vast black bucket being held by two girls on either side; Emmeline and Hermione on the left, and Alice and Lily on the right.

The Marauder boys' voices grow closer. Sirius was vociferously protesting the amount of work Slughorn had loaded onto them right before they left their lesson.

"Now!" Dorcas was on the opposite side of the staircase, she'd been assigned to keep a lookout for the boys.

The Marauders were so involved in their discussion, they didn't notice the girls overhead. The staircase groaned and began to move as the boys passed by underneath. The girls heave their large bucket of sparkly blue paint onto the bannister, and pour its contents directly onto the boys. Frank gets caught in the crossfire, but jumps back since he was at the back of the pack; so he doesn't end up entirely covered.

The girls lowered the empty bucket and cheered at their accomplishment.

"Revenge is sweet!" Emmeline said, incredibly pleased, tucking her frosty-blue hair behind her ears.

"Evans! You're Head Girl," James said with an incredulous laugh as he used magic to clean the paint off his glasses. Lily shrugged innocently.

James shook his head in awe as he dropped his book bag onto the ground and sprinted for the staircase now connected to the lower level. The girls swore and departed hastily, running up the staircase and dispersing when they reached the next floor.

Hermione and Lily went in the same direction, and Hermione let out a string of curses as she peeked backwards and noted that her brother was intently chasing them. Harry was running alongside the girls, his heart pounding, his lungs burning.

James caught Lily around the waist, his paint-covered hands leaving smears across her white jumper.

"James Potter!" Lily exclaimed.

"Just payback, Evans!" James yelled as he swung her in a circle. Lily let out a peal of laughter as he put on her feet. Lily twisted in James's arms and pounded on his chest.

Hermione snuck a glance over her shoulder, and with wide eyes realised Draco and Remus had breezed past Lily and James, and were hot on her heels. A trail of blue footprints was left in their wake.

Hermione rounded a corner and nearly tripped over Professor Flitwick. She slammed to a halt, and tucked her hands behind her back. "Evening, Sir. Lovely out tonight, isn't it?" Hermione asked.

Flitwick's brow furrowed until he caught sight of Draco and Remus as they appeared in the corridor. Sparkly blue paint dripping from their clothes.

Hermione bolted around the small wizard, and left Flitwick with mouth agape. Draco and Remus gave him curt nods before speeding after the petite witch.

The memory softened and lively music swirled in Harry's ears. Draco and Alice's movements were vibrantly spirited as they danced around the common area in the Head Dorms. The others clapped along to the beat. Hermione bumped Frank's shoulder, rose from the ground, and held her hand out to the blond haired boy. Frank smiled, accepted, and shortly the pair had joined Alice and Draco's merriment. Within moments, the others paired off, and skipped around one another, their laughter jubilant.

James and Lily are in love, they haven't officially taken that leap yet, but Harry can see it in the way their gazes linger on the other, how they always find one another in a room, and how Lily's breath catches whenever she sees James. It's their time, it's taken years to build to this point, but things align, and Harry is entranced by every moment.

Life had finally righted itself when Easter break rolled around, and left the Marauders devastated. The torture inflicted upon Hermione and Draco at Malfoy Manor paled in comparison to what happened when they returned to Potter Manor. The world is robbed of its colour, until only the red spilling from the nasty wound in Charlus's chest remains.

Harry was rooted to the spot, unable to say or do anything.

Charlus's voice faded, it was getting quieter. Charlus's body was limp in his children's grip, pure will was binding him to this world now. "I love you. Never forget that."

"Dad, Daddy, please," Draco begged, able to speak for the first time. "I love you, please, please don't leave us."

"Fight the war…but never forget…to live."

And then, tears spilling out of Charlus's hazel eyes, he dies. A weak smile on his face.

Harry didn't know how they survived the pain, he didn't know how they were expected to attend school, participate in classes, and deal with their upcoming examinations. He didn't know how they did it. The memories weren't as bright, there was a greyish tinge to them, as if the Marauders had forgotten what colour was.

Until it slowly seeped back into the world, bit-by-bit. Draco and Lily were snuggled together on one of the couches in the Head Dorms. The memory began with Draco giving an intoxicated Lily a piggyback ride back from Hogsmeade. The pair split a bottle of elf wine, so Draco stated it was his responsibility to escort her back to the castle. The others were still down in the village, but were meant to return shortly since it was almost curfew.

Harry settled onto the warm carpet beside him. It was as if he was going through the memories alone at times, but then he would see the others move around in his peripheries and recall that he wasn't alone.

Memory Draco was nodding off, his arms loosely linked around Lily as she laid back against him.

"I'm glad I met you Potters," Lily said sleepily.

"Even James?" Draco teased.

"Especially James," Lily said with a burst of laughter. She held onto Draco's forearm tightly and sighed softly.

"Draco?"

"Yea Lilypad?"

"Thank you for being my friend."

"I think we're a bit more than that at this point."

Lily paused for several moments before gently asking, "really? What are we then?"

"We're family, Lily," Draco said instantly with unwavering certainty. He paused, the corners of his lips twitching upwards as he added, "and in the future, when you marry my brother, it'll be official."

Lily's eyes went wide, she twisted in his arms and she swatted him. "We only started dating in December!"

"That might be true, but you already know that he's it for you, don't you?"

Lily swallowed audibly and avoided eye contact. She settled back against Draco and said, "I don't know what you mean." The smile on her face said otherwise.

Time raced forward, more memories and moments piling on top of each other. Harry idly wonders how long they'd been inside the pensieve, but he knows time moved faster in here. A lifetime will have passed, but in reality once they emerge from the pensieve's depths, mere hours would have elapsed.

James and Sirius charmed Hermione's bicycle, and ended up with neon blue faces for a week as retribution.

"I told you it was a bad idea," James grumbled as he plopped down at his desk in the Auror Department. He caught an interdepartmental memo that was about to land on his desk, and sullenly unfolded it.

Sirius was reclining in his chair at the desk opposite him, his hair tied up in a high ponytail. He was deftly folding a piece of parchment into a paper stag. He breathed magic into it, and sent it galloping across his desk and it leapt onto James's, charging straight for the other wizard. James plucked it up without looking as he scanned the note he'd just received.

"Perhaps Prongs, but greatness has to start somewhere."

A muffled noise that was a mix between a snort and laugh came from Frank's desk across the aisle. His shoulders were shaking with the momentous effort he was exuding to not burst into raucous laughter every time he looked at their faces.

(Alice's desk was empty as she was in one of the training rooms, sparring with Emma Vanity; she was the mentor Alice had been assigned to.)

The memories surrounding the pack's everyday lives were a soothing balm after the tragedy forced upon them.

Buoyant laughter surrounded Harry, a flash of crimson hair flew past him. James was running after Lily, a broom in hand.

"C'mon, Lils! I just want to go for a short fly together," James called after his witch. Lily deftly spun on the spot and ran backwards long enough to affectionately disagree.

Lily wasn't as adverse to flying as Hermione Granger once was, but it wasn't her favourite thing to do.

Lily leapt into the air, and the air shimmered gold around her form in the instant it took for her to transform into a doe. Fawn triumphantly trotted over to James, who had jerkily stopped and was staring with wide eyes at his fianceé.

Draco and Hermione were chuckling to themselves, watching from the back porch. Hermione's sideways in Draco's lap, her arms loosely linked around his neck. Draco's languidly sipped his tall glass of lemonade.

"Now that's just not fair," James sighed.

"We can go for a fly with you, if you'll have us." Hermione cupped her hands around her mouth and called out to her brother. James ripped his gaze from the doe lowering herself to the grass; a seemingly chuffed expression was on the doe's face.

"I would like that, the three of us haven't been for one in ages."

Lily shifted back, threw her arms around James's arms and jumped up and down excitedly. "I'll go if I get to share a broom with Hermione!"

James rolled his eyes, and in a swift motion, he bent to grab Lily around the middle, and tossed her onto his shoulder. Lily lightly pounded on his back whilst laughing. Her hair swished from side-to-side as James strolled over to their broom shed around the side of the house.

"James Potter! You toerag!"

"Haven't heard that one in a while," Hermione said, fiddling with the front of Draco's top.

"No, we haven't," Draco smirked. He pressed a kiss to Hermione's cheek, patted her bum, and gestured for her to get up. Hermione climbed out of Draco's lap, and pulled her the bottoms of her shorts down.

"I'll go grab our brooms!" Hermione announced, gathering her curls to secure them in a high ponytail with the pink scrunchie around her wrist.

The memory blurred, and their voices warbled in the distance, as if underwater. The brightness faded. Emmeline and Mary died. James was shaken to his core, and Peter's cries of anguish as if his heart had been ripped out of his chest are unbearable. Harry can't press pause on the memory, he hadn't been able to for any of the previous tragedies.

Sepulchral threads entwined themselves around Harry's limbs, and a drop of water hit his left cheek.

Mist cleared from Harry's eyes, and within a handful of breaths he was soaked to the bone. His hair in his eyes, water on his glasses. His clothes clung to him and a despondent chill enveloped his bones.

James Potter was sitting in front of his parents' graves, knees drawn to his chest, his face downcast as he wept openly.

The heavens had parted, torrential rain assaulted the earth, the wind was howling and snapping, the trees swaying viciously.

The memory of Hermione moved past them, her jumper and trousers waterlogged, her feet bare and sinking into the mud. She knelt behind her brother, and embraced him. Hermione brushed his hair off his forehead and kissed the back of his neck.

James twisted in her arms and buried his face in her ribcage, his body shaking.

"I wasn't sure whether to include this but…" Hermione trailed off.

"No…I—thank you," Harry said. Unable to find words to express his tumultuous emotions.

James and Lily's wedding day was everything he could have wanted for them, it was what they needed after they'd suffered such great loss. After Hermione and Draco ousted the Dursleys from the reception, the pack got lost in dancing and merriment. Drinks were passed around freely, and Harry was spellbound by the music and liquor coursing through his veins.

It was disorienting to be dropped into a memory with such stark contrast, where cognitive ability was required, and panic slipstreamed through his system. Harry swivelled in a circle, trying to grasp his surroundings. He stumbled down onto the hardwoods, his fingers flexing against the wood, feeling the smooth yet rough surface under his fingertips.

Harry rested his temple against the ground, watching his fingers move, but just past them he saw Riley lying on the ground as Hermione and Draco crouched over her face. An array of empty phials were spread out on the ground in between Harry and the trio.

A tremble of tranquillity and inner calm centred Harry as the scene shifted. Herefordshire, the old cottage that belonged to the McKinnon family. Harry trailed after James as he rounded the house and headed for the modest greenhouse where Riley Paddington was dutifully working.

Riley's bandages had come off a few days ago. The witch embraced James as tears steadily marched down his cheeks and he apologised—again—for her life-altering injury. Riley waved off his apology and pulled him down into a tight hug. James's forehead fell onto her shoulder, and he held onto her as if she would dissipate as soon as he released her.

"I'm alive, because of you, James," Riley whispered against James's temple.

More death, more loss, more agony. The war marches on, and eventually, Hermione and Draco flee Potter Manor when their time runs out.

It was heart-wrenching to witness the fallout on both sides. To see Hermione torn to shreds as she said goodbye, to see Draco left on his own when Hermione is claimed by time. To see the pack reeling and trying to find their way in Hermione and Draco's absence.

Remus's head rested on Lily's abdomen when they found out she's pregnant. The light fading from Lily and Alice's eyes as Dumbledore informed them of the prophecy about a boy born at the end of July.

Harry watched them persevere with the world's weight on their shoulders, never giving up and never giving in.

Harry fell to his knees as he witnessed Draco's final days in the past. The euphoria and sadness that charged every moment as he was able to yell the truth at the top of his lungs, but was unable to change fate's course.

Draco left, and the world quaked from the force of the spell, he senses it through Riley's eyes. As the world forgot, traces of Hermione, Draco and Riley remained.

Harry saw it all: the beginning, the middle and the end. The memories concluded on Halloween in Nineteen Eighty-one.

After what felt like an eternity, the pack members ascended from the world of grey and left the pensieve. Harry gripped the edges of the shallow stone bowl, and squinted as the afternoon's warm sunlight cast its golden glow on them through the window in Dorea's study.

Harry was speechless, how could he say anything when his heart was hammering away in his chest, and his stomach was doing somersaults. Standing on solid ground felt unnatural. Harry shakily lowered himself to the ground. Hermione was at his side in an instant, stroking his cheeks and speaking. He couldn't hear her.

Harry closed his eyes, his hands reaching up to grasp her wrists as tears spilled from him. A mighty sob ripped from his throat. Harry had a vague idea of what to expect in the pensieve, but it was nothing like what he had just experienced.

Harry had lived through every high and low, every loss and triumph, through every moment that had made the Marauders who they were, and it was exhilarating, it was bliss, but it was also misery and torment. It wasn't the same as having lived through the events firsthand, it was something that existed in-between. Harry had traversed over a decade in the past in a matter of hours.

A woodsy, earthy scent intertwined with honeysuckle and other floral notes entered his nostrils and enveloped him. Harry wept uncontrollably. Ron was by Hermione's side, his calloused hand was warm and grounding as he held the back of Harry's head. The rest of the pack was hovering a few feet away, watching him carefully, concern mixed across their features.

Harry didn't have the words to tell them that it was okay, more than okay, that he was fantastic and how grateful he was for all of them. So, instead, he wept, and resolved to tell them all later.

---

Thank you reading lovelies! Please let me know what you thought x

I am going to try and write a ton before May and *attempt* to have an ambitious posting schedule like I did in March. So, see you on May first!

Stay safe, stay hydrated, and take care of yourselves!