History Repeated

So, I don't own Harry Potter...Damn.

Happy New Year!

Thanks to those who have followed, favored, and/or reviewed. I also apologize for the long wait.

2 August 2015

As Hermione approached the Dursley home on Egerton Road, she took in the sight of the two-story, bricked home. There was a batch of lily flowers growing under the window of what appeared to be the Dursley's sitting room. The dark blue curtain hanging over the window inside the room was opened, revealing beige walls and what appeared to be a flat-screen television. Hermione wondered if that was where her nephew James watched the show he liked so much.

Her eyes darted away from the window as she heard the front door opening. A woman with mousy brown hair that went to her chin was at the door. She looked nervous to Hermione, with how she kept a part of herself hidden behind the door and the fact that she was staring at her as though she was about to attack her. Not that Hermione necessarily blamed the woman, she had been rather...upfront with Helen Dursley's husband.

Hermione frowned as Harry's cousin-in-law's name rattled in her head. She hadn't known the woman's name, or remember if she had known it before today. Neville told her the muggle woman's name before he left; Hermione hadn't wanted him to come with her to meet James and he respectfully agreed, though she had her reservations on why he didn't argue with her.

Forcing a polite smile on her face, Hermione said, "Helen Dursley? My name is Hermione Granger, your husband mentioned he told you I was coming to meet James."

A slight nod came before the woman behind the door said anything. "Yes, we spoke earlier," Helen confirmed as she opened the door enough to let Hermione enter. "Please, come in Mrs. Granger."

"Professor," Hermione corrected before she could stop herself. She inwardly cringed as she entered the Dursley's home. "Apologises, Mrs. Dursley, I teach at the school James will be attending this year." She didn't bother to mention that she hadn't taken Ron's surname after they married.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Helen said as her hazel eyes widened. "I wasn't aware you were a teacher. Professor Longbottom never mentioned you. Granted, he didn't say much about your world or James' other family. He and Professor McGonagall said it was too dangerous for Jimmy to be with his mother's family when we took him in."

"My world is dangerous," Hermione agreed, unable to find a way to sugarcoat how much had changed since she first entered the wizarding world so many years ago. "And I can't fault Professors McGonagall and Longbottom for wanting to protect James as much as they could." No matter how much she wanted to, they had her nephew's best interests at heart and Hermione couldn't be angry at them for that. Yet, she still was. So many years she and her family could have had with James, now were mere what ifs? and she couldn't forgive that.

Hermione's eyes wandered around her surroundings, taking in each flower potted up in plastic vases on tables nailed into the walls and the photographs around them. A small smile formed on her lips as she looked at a photo of James, possibly five or six at the time, as he held up a toad with his mud-stained hands. He wore no shoes and a majority of his body was covered in mud and leaves. The mischievous smile on his face showcased two missing baby teeth at the upper front of his mouth and his bright brown eyes seemed to illuminate as he grinned at the camera.

She tore her eyes away when she heard the soft bangs pounding down the stairs as her nephew trampled down the stairs. Hermione could see traces of the small boy James once was, his eyes were still bright and his hair just unruly. He was the same as he had been in Diagon Alley, though she saw him differently now. She saw him as the little boy who would love to listen to the stories she had for him every time she visited his family's home. The little boy who once asked her to give him ten boy cousins because just having Freddie and Louis wasn't enough for him.

The boy coming down the stairs was her nephew, there was no mistaking that. She could see Harry and Ginny in him, no matter how subtle their features were. Ginny's eyes, Harry's smile. How she hadn't seen it before, Hermione wanted to kick herself for not noticing her friends in their son.

"Hi Pro...Er, Aunt Hermione?" Hermione wanted to cry and laugh as James said this.

"Whatever you're comfortable with, James," She said and her nephew smiled.

"Brilliant," the boy said before he glanced at his cousin's wife, who was staring at Hermione and James in confusion. Hermione wondered how much Dudley had told his wife. How much James had told Dudley and Helen about his trip to Diagon Alley.

When James looked in Helen's direction, he spoke to her. "Oh, right," the boy said as he ran a hand through his messy hair. Hermione thought of Harry in that instant, James was doing something his father had once done and he didn't even realize it. "Sorry, Aunt Helen. I met...Aunt Hermione when I got my school things. She was," the boy paused and looked at Hermione as he continued speaking. "Why were you there...Aunt Hermione?" The boy was uncomfortable with calling Hermione his aunt, she could tell, but he didn't seem to not want to call her it. It was a start, Hermione thought as she looked between her nephew and his guardian.

"I was there with your Uncle George and his son," she told James and Helen. "Freddie's his name, he's a bit older than you. Do you remember him...Jimmy?" She wanted to call him James, but Jimmy felt more natural to Hermione. She thought of Ginny when she said the boy's nickname. It was all the young mother would ever call her only son.

She watched as James' smile drop and his eyes lowered as he stared at his sock-covered feet. "I don't know," He admitted as he kept his head down. "Professor Longbottom mentioned I have an uncle named Geroge and he had a brother named Fred, but he died, didn't he?"

"He did," Hermione said, sounding as though there was a large boulder hanging from the end of her throat. "Your Uncle Fred died long before you were born. And your Uncle Charlie, he died not long after your parents did. Do you remember him?"

She watched as the boy shook his head before looking up at her. He looked like he wanted to cry, but was confused as to why and Hermione didn't blame him. He had grown up not knowing one side of his family, one side of what should have been his world. Learning things he possibly could have never imagined, it was a nightmare the boy never expected.

"Is anyone else I should know dead?"

Hermione grimaced, feeling something inside her drop as she held back tears. "No dear," She said. "Not in our family. The rest of your uncles, aunts, and cousins are alive and they'll be so happy to see you again."

A haunting smile crossed James' lips. It was small and barely noticeable, much like Harry's had been at times. "They are?" he asked and Hermione nodded, barely containing her own smile that was growing back on to her face.

"Very," She affirmed. "Your gran and grandad too, they'll be especially excited to see you again. Your gran," Hermione laughed as she thought of her mother-in-law. "She'll probably never let you out of her sight once she sees you."

"Yeah?" James asked as tears dropped from his watery eyes.

Hermione nodded, feeling the tears at the tip of her eyelids threatening to drop at a moment's notice. "Can I give you a hug, Jimmy?" she asked.

She didn't need to hear any answers from her nephew, he was wrapping his arms around her before she could even blink. As she wrapped her arms around James, Hermione glanced over him and saw Helen Dursley wiping away her own tears, a melancholic smile on her face.

In that instant, any ill-thought she had of Dudley and his wife was gone. James didn't have his father's childhood, and Hermione teared up even more upon realizing this.

Ten-year-old Lucy Weasley watched as her family interacted with each other in the sitting room of the Burrow. Her Gran was fiddling with her old tea set, pouring cup after cup and handing it off to her Uncle's Bill, George and Ron, her Aunt Fleur, and her parents. Aunt Angelina was still in St. Mungos, and with one look at her Uncle George, Lucy knew he wanted to be there more than he did the Burrow.

Her Dad and Uncle Bill were quietly talking about their jobs; Dad at the Ministry and Uncle Bill Gringotts, both kept their conversation barely above a whisper, knowing no one wanted to hear a thing about either given everything that was happening.

Lucy's grey eyes wandered over towards her mother, who was talking to Uncle George and Aunt Fleur. Uncle Ron was next to them with Grandad, having their own conversation about muggle cars. If Lucy knew any better, she imagined her Grandad was trying to convince Uncle Ron to let him have a crack at his car's engine. Uncle Ron was having none of it, judging from how red his ears were getting.

Looking away from the adults, Lucy watched as her fourteen-year-old sister, Molly, attempted to start a conversation with Uncle Bill and Aunt Fleur's eldest daughter, fifteen-year-old Victoire, who was attempting to read some muggle book Lucy didn't know the name to. The coverslip was gone and the words printed on the binding was a similar shade to the hard covered book.

Thirteen-year-old's Freddie and Dominique were off sitting on the stairs, quietly whispering and laughing to themselves. Lucy knew instantly that they were planning another one of their pranks and she lightly snorted at the thought of it. Freddie was Uncle George and Aunt Angelina's eldest and Dominique was Uncle Bill and Aunt Fleur's middle daughter, and they both were known for being rather ruthless sometimes with their pranks. Uncle George encouraged it while everyone else armed themselves with protection charms and lectures that ended up being forgotten by the time a new scolding was said.

Freddie's younger sister, ten-year-old Roxy, and Victoire and Dominique's younger brother, ten-year-old Louis, were swapping Chocolate Frog cards on the kitchen area floor. Lucy would have joined them, but she forgot her set at home. Over their shoulders, Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione's two children, nine-year-old Rose and six-year-old Hugo were watching them, pointing out certain cards to their cousins.

Lucy wondered why her entire family was at the Burrow and where her Aunt Hermione was. She and Louis' eleventh birthday, which was three days apart, was coming up, and normally they shared birthday parties at the Burrow every year. She knew they weren't having their party today, it was too early and no one was doing anything out of the norm when they all came together. It was strange, and Lucy could tell her family was just as confused as she was, even if they weren't saying anything about it.

Lucy and Louis were starting Hogwarts this year, they both were excited about it but for some reason, no one else seemed to be. At least, like they were with the others. Lucy wondered why that was, her Dad said it was a complicated answer when she asked him about it a few months ago. He normally loved complicated answers, Lucy's Dad, but he refused to say anything when Lucy asked him why everyone seemed so upset about her and Louis starting Hogwarts that year.

"It's a long story, Luce," Was all her father had said before dropping their conversation altogether, to Lucy's irritation.

As she tucked a lock of her brown hair behind her right ear, Lucy's eyes shot towards the front door to the Burrow. Aunt Hermione entered, looking as though she spent the day crying. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her skin flushed. Her normally pristine clothing was reduced to wrinkles and strands of her bushy brown hair brushed past her face despite the rest being pulled back into a tight bun. In her arms was a small brown box with dust and muggle tape hanging off the sides, as though it had just been unpackaged after sitting in someone's attic for years.

Gran, unsurprisingly, was the first to say something as everyone stared at Hermione.

"Hermione?" Gran asked. "What's...What's wrong, dear."

Lucy watched as her aunt bit her lower lip and shook her head, as though she had something important to say but didn't know how to start.

"Please," Aunt Hermione said as she stared at everyone in the room. "Wait until I finish explaining before you ask any questions."

When no one spoke, Aunt Hermione nodded again and walked further into the room. She set the box down on the little table that was in the center of the room, between the fireplace and the settee where Grandad, Uncle Ron, and Uncle George were sitting. Aunt Fleur and Lucy's mother were on another settee next to them.

Lucy watched as her Gran sat down next to her mother. Her grandmother's eyes were planted firmly on Hermione, she could see the worry lines crossing over the old witch's wrinkles.

Aunt Hermione pushed the box in Gran's direction. Lucy stretched her neck out as far as she could from her spot by the old clock with her father, uncles, and aunt's faces. The old thing stopped working sometime after Uncle Charlie died, and neither Gran nor Grandad had the heart to fix it but they never took it down and Lucy didn't have the stomach to ask why.

Lucy stood up so she could see better. Her Gran had the box wide open, but her hands were trembling. Next to her, Lucy's mother and Aunt Fleur visibly paled as they peered into the box.

With her shaking hands, Lucy's grandmother pulled out a dark blue quilt with grey and green dragons on each square. Sewn into the end of the quilt were the initials "J.S.P." in light blue thread.

Lucy stared at the quilt until she heard her grandmother sobbing. Looking at her, Lucy noticed that her grandmother was staring at Aunt Hermione, who was slowly nodding her head.

"W-where did you...This is...Oh, Hermione," Was all Gran managed to say before another round of sobs escaped past her lips. Aunt Fleur gently took the quilt from Gran and her normally composed look began to crumble as she looked up at Aunt Hermione in shock.

"This...It's James' quilt," Aunt Fleur said, her accent coming out thick.

Lucy's curiosity expanded immediately upon hearing the name, James. She had a cousin named James, but as far as she knew, he was dead like his parents, her Aunt Ginny and Uncle Harry.

"He's alive." Lucy, along with the rest of her family, looked away from the quilt and back at Aunt Hermione as she continued speaking. "Yes-yesterday, when I went into Diagon Alley with George and Freddie, I met a boy named Jimmy in Flourish and Blotts. He was with Neville, getting his Hogwarts supplies. I didn't...," Aunt Hermione paused as she wiped away a tear that escaped past her left eyelid. "I didn't know it at the time, but that boy was Harry and Ginny's son. I didn't know until Neville showed up at my house and told me."

Aunt Hermione took a step towards the box and pulled out a picture frame. She handed it to Gran, who sobbed more as she stared at the photograph before handing it to Lucy's mother. Hand by hand, the picture was passed along the room until it was in Lucy's. She frowned as she took in the man, woman, and little boy in the photo. It wasn't moving, but the happiness on their faces was enough to paint what the small family was feeling. The red-haired woman, her husband with his lightning-bolt scar, and their son with his stuffed dragon. Three dead members of Lucy's family. Or, so she thought.

"I got that picture from James when I visited him earlier today," Aunt Hermione said after Lucy passed the frame back to her. "He told me to take care of it until he could get it back because it's the only one the Dursley's have of him with his parents."

The room became colder as goosebumps began to form on Lucy's arms. As she rubbed them with her hands, she took in what her aunt had said. Her ears pounded as a wave of silence passed through the room the Weasley family currently occupied. Lucy's eyes wandered towards her sister, who noticed, and with a stunned look on her face, she shrugged. Next to her, Victoire was silently weeping into her hands. As Lucy looked at each of her cousins, a range of shock and confusion spread amongst them. The ones who hadn't known James when...Before his parents died, they were the most confused. The ones who knew them, only Victoire was crying. She, and possibly Lucy's sister, would be the only ones who would remember Aunt Ginny's son.

"H-how long?" Lucy heard, causing her eyes to dart towards her Uncle Ron as he stared up at Aunt Hermione, his face a mess of emotions she had no time to understand. "How long has J-Jimmy...Merlin, how long has he been there?"

Aunt Hermione shook her head as she said, "Since...Since Harry and Ginny died. Neville and McGonagall took him to Harry's cousin, who raised him alongside his own children."

"How-why would they do that?" Lucy's Dad questioned, his voice fluctuating between shock and grief. "Ginny and Harry, they always said James would go to you and Ron if...If anything were to happen to them."

"Professor McGonagall believed James would be safest in the muggle world," Aunt Hermione said as she wiped away her remaining tears. "His parents killer is still out there, McGonagall and Neville believed the murderer would come back and kill James or take him or...Merlin, I don't know. They thought he would be safer away from everyone, even us, because there was-" Aunt Hermione stopped speaking, Lucy watched as her attention directed itself towards Gran, who was walking towards her. Lucy watched as her grandmother hugged her aunt.

When Gran finally let go of Aunt Hermione, she spoke. "Tell us about him," Gran said as a shaky smile formed on her face. "Tell me about my grandson."

Lucy saw her aunt smile as more tears formed in her eyes, but she wiped them away and began talking for a long time, and for once everyone took in every word she said.

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