A/N: Your reviews make me so warm and fuzzy inside. I know I'm shitty with responding, but do know that I read them all and they never fail to make me smile. And this story reached 300 reviews already!

To my new readers, hi, I update every day. Have a virtual cookie!

Thank you so much to my Beta, lozipozivanillabean!

So, again, this chapter is half-summer, half-start of Hermione's sixth year (Marauders' seventh). Enjoy!

xix.

my memory is cruel

(Between the Lines by Sara Bareilles)

August 5, 1977

Hermione almost toppled over when Lily threw her arms around her. The younger witch laughed and pried Lily away, smiling brilliantly at how genuinely happy Lily was to see her. "Hello," she greeted. Her blue eyes landed on the boy behind her and she stared. "You've grown taller!"

"Hello to you too," Severus said, uneasily gazing around the empty street behind them. "Your street is…" He scrunched up his nose, unable to come up with a decent word. Finally, he settled with "… lively" and nervously ruffled his hair.

"It's lovely," Lily gushed out, also glancing at the potted daisies lining the Pettigrews' small, neat front yard. "Living in Cokeworth for years has been terribly depressing and dull. The bursts of colour and sunlight in your street are refreshing."

Hermione grinned and gestured them to come inside. After Anya's constant pestering for her daughter to just relax during the summer vacation, Hermione had finally thought of inviting her best friends over to make her mother happy. Anya had been bustling around the kitchen ever since she had announced that Lily and Sev would be coming over for a few days. Both Peter and Hermione knew it would be wise to keep out of the kitchen if they wanted to live.

Lily instantly sauntered towards the small table where framed pictures of the Pettigrew family were displayed. Hermione stifled a grin when Sev frowned at the still pictures, as if staring longer would make them move. Among the trio, it was Sev who had grown up in a Wizarding household after all. Besides, despite her Pureblood heritage, Anya wanted the infusion of anything Muggle in their home, after living as such when Timothy Pettigrew was still alive.

"I know I've said this before, but you really look like your mother," Lily pointed out as she lifted a brown picture frame showing a younger Anya and a six-year-old Hermione smiling widely at the camera.

"I get that a lot," Hermione answered with a smile.

"You really look like a Selwyn," Sev pointed out, prompting Hermione to grimace. "Anyone obsessed with Purebloods can clearly see the golden curls and blue eyes as a distinct trait of the Selwyns."

"They're not my family," she said with a flourished eye roll.

Sev merely shrugged and started to look around - thinly-veiled amusement and suspicion painted in his black eyes. "What's that?" he asked, pointing at a black box with different buttons on it. He leant down and pressed a random button. A news reporter suddenly appeared, prompting Severus to yelp in surprise and glance at Hermione with wild eyes. "What the bloody hell is that?"

"A telly, Sev," Lily said with a laugh. "Think of it as different moving pictures are strewn together to tell a story."

The Slytherin glanced at the television once more, this time with obvious fascination.

"Fancy some tea?" Hermione then asked. "I can prepare some in the kitchen." Lily nodded her head and smiled in thanks while Sev reluctantly glanced away from the television, this time showing a red carpet and various beautifully dressed Muggles strutting amidst blinding flashes of cameras.

The younger witch grinned and hooked arms with Sev, pulling him away. "I'll let you watch later, promise," she said.

Hermione brought her friends towards the kitchen, but stopped midway as she beheld the sight inside. Their table boasted various delicious meals, varying from meat and pasta and desserts, so much so that the table was almost overcrowded. Towering pots and plates were deposited in the kitchen sink, some hovering mid-air while an invisible hand scrubbed them clean.

Amidst the chaos stood her mother, her favourite worn pink apron tied around her small waist. Anya's hair had grown voluminous due to the humidity, but her mother didn't seem to mind.

"Mum!" the brunette gasped. "What have you done?"

"Oh!" Anya exclaimed, swivelling around to glance at the newcomers. She beamed brightly at Hermione's best friends, who were both gaping in disbelief at the feast in front of them. "Hello, Lily and Severus. I didn't know you had arrived." She absentmindedly wiped her hands against the apron and gestured at the table teeming with food. "Go on then. Don't be shy. I'm not done yet though, but I will be soon."

"Not done?" Hermione squeaked. "Mum, you've prepared enough food to feed a school!"

Her mother merely laughed and waved her hand dismissively. "Don't be ridiculous, darling," she clucked, striding forward to grasp both Lily and Sev's arms. "Come now, come sit down children. Severus! You've gotten thinner since the last time I saw you. You can't get out of your chair without gaining at least a pound!"

"Err…" The young wizard paled and allowed Anya to push him down on his chair.

"Mum!"

"I was kidding, darling," Anya said with a pretty smile. She then smiled kindly at the redhead and placed her on the empty seat beside Sev. "Lily, love, how are you?"

"I'm fine, Mrs. Pettigrew," she politely replied.

"Please, Anya will do," her mother said with a laugh. "I prepared a chocolate cake today. I may have placed some Chocolate Frogs inside, since Hermione told me they're your favourites."

Lily's cheeks matched her fiery, red hair. "Oh, thank you, that's very kind," she said once more, her smile almost blinding.

"Come now, Hermione, don't just stand there," Anya ushered. She then glanced around and frowned. "Where's your brother? PETER!"

Heavy footsteps from upstairs were heard. Her brother, who had grown taller again over the summer, came bounding down the stairs. "I'm here, I'm he— whoa." He gaped at the overflowing food with wide eyes, before glancing at his mother. "Mum, you've prepared enough food to feed a school!"

Hermione snorted and sat on the chair beside Lily. "That's exactly what I told her," she pointed out. "I think Mum got a bit excited since we have visitors today."

"You never bring your friends home," Anya huffed as Peter took the last empty seat. "You've never brought your friends over either, Peter."

"Mum, trust me, it's for the best," Peter claimed with a laugh. "Sirius will mostly likely woo the magic out of you. Remus will be cranky if it's – ah – well. And James will most probably brew up a prank that might make you ban him from coming over forever."

"Besides," Hermione added, "our house cannot handle four rowdy boys, Mum."

Anya sighed and smiled at their visitors. "Go on then, tuck in!" she claimed.

Peter smiled at Lily in greeting. "Lily, hello," he said. When his blue eyes landed on Sev, the smile faltered. "Sniv – Snape."

"Pettigrew," Sev coolly replied, before focusing his attention on slicing his roast beef.

Hermione and Anya exchanged amused glances. The younger witch had told her mother before about the rivalry between her best friend and the Marauders. Hermione had previously hesitated in inviting Severus over, because she was nervous he would only spend his whole stay snarling at Peter, which her brother would gladly return, no doubt. But the civility between them was surprising, albeit amusing, and Hermione was just thankful they wouldn't make this difficult at all.

Their oven suddenly dinged, bringing Anya to her feet. "Anyone want to taste my freshly-baked biscuits?"

"You made biscuits too?" Peter asked incredulously.

"And a new batch of chocolate chip cookies," Anya added.

Hermione chuckled and fondly looked at her beaming mother. "Mum, honestly." If Anya acted like this every time she brought over her friends, then Hermione made a mental note to invite Lily and Sev over as often as she could.

August 6, 1977

"Another movie?" Hermione asked as the credits rolled onto the screen. Lily moaned and buried her head under the throw pillows on the couch. Sev, on the other hand, glanced at Hermione with silent hope in his eyes. "All right, the sourpuss wants to watch another one."

"No more, please," Lily pleaded. "If I watch another movie, my head is going to burst open."

The brunette shifted on the couch and plopped her head down on top of Lily's lap. "Come on," Hermione cajoled. "Look at Sev. Have you ever seen him so engrossed before? The only time we see him like that is when he's brewing another one of his ridiculously complicated potions."

The redhead moaned again but didn't say anything in return. Hermione chuckled and started changing channels, in search of another movie they could watch. She browsed through different shows, of sitcoms and cooking shows and of various commercials that sold everything under the sun. Hermione had never really found it fun watching the television before, but since she was in a new timeline and things were different, she sometimes tried to watch it to compare shows with those shown in the '90s.

"Wait," Sev gravelly said.

Hermione immediately paused and knitted her eyebrows at the news that was flashing on the screen. Lily gasped, eyes growing wide as they watched a news reporter talk about the mass murder of a few Muggle families from a quaint street in Notting Hill. Although their bodies were censored, the media had no qualms showing how these bodies, about twenty or more, were lining the streets whilst spectators with horrified faces gathered at the sides. Cameras continuously flashed and reporters swarmed around, facing their respective cameras while they announced the unusual deaths.

"… said the cause of death was still unidentified," said the news reporter, a greying man with a terrible grimace on his face. "The coroner, however, insisted they all died the same way. It was said the victim's organ systems suddenly shut down without any underlying diseases. The youngest victim, a five-year-old girl, had no other reported diseases before her untimely death."

The screen then shifted to another news reporter at the crime scene with a trembling witness beside him. "… a strange mark overhead," the elderly woman sobbed. "It was green and I'm not sure but I think – I think there were a skull and a snake. Oh, it was horrible, so horrible. They were good people. I don't know why this happened to them."

Severus took a sharp intake of breath. "The Dark Mark," he shakily murmured, his face growing as white as a sheet. "It was the Dark Mark."

"Voldemort's mark?" Lily whispered.

"Don't say his name!" the Slytherin hissed, his head whipping around so fast Hermione heard his neck crick. "Never say his name."

"Why?" Hermione blurted out.

Sev slowly swivelled his head this time until his dark eyes were piercing Hermione's. "Just… don't," he said, looking tired all of a sudden.

"It's getting worse, isn't it?" the redhead asked, worry now painted on her pretty face. "I mean, I know he has always been a threat. And his band of followers – what are they called?"

"Death Eaters," Hermione gravelly murmured.

If it was more possible, Sev grew paler and stared intently at his hands.

"Yeah, them," Lily breathlessly said. Her green eyes were almost stark against her pale face. "I think the Daily Prophet isn't reporting the extent of the attacks, but I always felt that…" She bit her bottom lip and glanced at her feet. "… that you know, since he hates Muggleborns so much – people like me – sometimes I worry if he'll get to me, to my family."

"I will never let that happen!" Sev vehemently said, much to the surprise of the redhead.

Lily's eyes glistened with unshed tears as a shaky smile appeared on her face. "You are nothing against him, Sev, honestly," she lightly joked, but Hermione could see there was warmth behind her gaze.

"We have Dumbledore," he insisted, looking away from Lily once more, his cheeks suspiciously pink. "They said he is the only wizard You-Know-Who fears."

Hermione swallowed down her words, wanting to point out that even Dumbledore was powerless to stop him in the future. With that thought, her panic flared into a blazing inferno and Hermione suddenly couldn't breathe. She quickly excused herself, lest she broke down in front of her friends, and went to the kitchen.

Her body brought her towards the refrigerator, and Hermione fumbled with the door handle. Images of the war, of turmoil and grief and pain and destruction, flashed before her eyes. She remembered all of the adventures she had gone on with Harry and Ron during their Hogwarts years, of how they had always luckily dodged death, secretly wondering when it would all end. She remembered the Battle at the Department of Mysteries, and the spell Antonin Dolohov had thrown her way - that would have killed her, if she hadn't had been fast enough to dodge it. She remembered Albus Dumbledore's lifeless eyes staring heavenward. She remembered the horcrux hunt, the Gringotts break-in, Bill and Fleur's wedding… She remembered the Battle of Hogwarts, the lives they'd lost. She remembered Ron – sweet, sweet Ron – who'd she'd loved with all of her heart, eyes dull and unseeing.

And above all, she remembered Harry Potter, whose emerald eyes had dimmed as the war had stretched on. She remembered the hopelessness in them, the anger, the exhaustion, the resignation.

Her grip on the fridge door handle tightened, belatedly realising tears had now steadily started pouring down from her eyes. Sobs tore through her chest and she had to bite on her bottom lip hard so as not to alert the other people in the house.

She had always waited for a breakdown. After everything she had been through, Hermione had always anticipated there would come a day when everything that had happened to Hermione Granger would catch up with her, overwhelm her, suffocate her, until it was hard for her to breathe. There were moments when she almost lost it, but then, she'd see a face she'd come to love in this timeline, and she'd latch onto them like an anchor, until their mere presence brought her back to earth.

But, after witnessing murders that were undoubtedly committed by Voldemort and his followers, because of their irrational hate for those who weren't like them, all those memories came back to her as a great tsunami. Hermione gulped down large amounts of air, afraid that she would drown from all the terror she had witnessed in the past. There was no anchor around her, and she was sinking and sinking, going farther away from the surface.

"Hermione?"

A mixture of a gasp and a sob tore away from her mouth as she swivelled around. Peter was standing at the doorframe, worry and uncertainty in his blue eyes. Hermione found herself able to properly breathe once more; at the same time, sobs poured out from her mouth.

"What's wrong?" Peter worriedly asked as he immediately went to her side. His blue eyes were clear with worry and fear, and Hermione just couldn't stop crying.

He wound his arms around hers and rubbed circles on her back, murmuring incoherent words she didn't bother to understand. Hermione grasped the back of his shirt, like he was the tightrope that would pull her back to the surface.

Peter held her for minutes, or maybe hours; Hermione wasn't sure. By the time her sobs had quietened into silent tears, her cheeks had coloured in embarrassment and horror at being caught breaking down.

"Will you tell me what just happened?" he asked, but the brunette was already shaking her head.

He pulled her away from his arms and peered down. "Hermione," he sternly said, "I told you that if you need anything, you can always come to me, yeah?"

She gave him a watery smile. "I– I'm sorry," she sniffed, haphazardly wiping her tears away. "I was just trying to search for a drink, and ah – well – we only have cheap soda and I don't like soda and—"

"You're bloody crying because of cheap soda?" Peter asked in bewilderment. "Maybe you're more mental than what I originally thought."

Hermione swatted his arm, prompting him to lightly glare in her direction.

His glare morphed into silent worry once more. "Are you really all right, Hermione?" he anxiously asked. "Did… did something happen between you and your best friends?" A frown bloomed on his face. "Did Snivellus—"

"Severus," she grounded out, "didn't do anything. And, I'm – well – I think I am all right now." She wiped away the remaining tears from her face and shakily smiled at her brother. "Don't worry about me now, Petey."

"Are you sure?" he dubiously asked. "You know that I'm going to James's manor tomorrow, but if you're not feeling well, maybe I can just skip that—"

"No, no, don't cancel," she insistently said. "You've been excited about this for days and I don't want you to ditch them." Peter opened his mouth to protest, but Hermione beat him to it. "I'm fine, Peter. Besides, Lily and Sev will be with me tomorrow."

He still looked uncertain. "You sure?" he asked.

Hermione expelled a soft laugh and nodded. "Yes," she replied, pulling away from his arms. She then washed her face to remove any remnants of her breakdown. "Don't mind me now, Peter. Go pack your things because surely you're still avoiding that and won't do it until the last minute."

"Ah, yes, she's bloody fine," he grumbled, rolling his eyes at her nagging.

The brunette merely smiled.

She was finally back on land, all thanks to her brother.

August 7, 1977

Peter strode out from the fireplace and brushed the soot from his shoulders. Even before he could place his bag down, loud footsteps from upstairs resounded around the lavish foyer of the Potter's Manor. His eyes widened when James ran down two steps at a time, and by the time he had landed on the last step, he was already panting, his face glowing red.

"Oh," James faltered and slowly frowned. "You're alone?"

A look of confusion appeared on Peter's face. "Um, yes," he said, lamely gesturing at himself.

The bespectacled wizard didn't meet his eyes as his hand climbed to the back of his neck. "Hermione didn't come with you?" he asked in a rush that Peter almost didn't catch it.

"No," Peter said, still mightily confused. "Lily and Snape came over a few days ago and Hermione's playing host. I didn't know you were expecting her."

"Oh," James repeated, slumping dejectedly as he trudged upstairs, his steps now slower and timid.

"Bloody hell, James!" Sirius exclaimed as he and Remus finally caught up with their best friend. "I didn't know you were that excited to see Wormtail."

The Potter heir merely sighed and pushed them away as he continued upstairs. Peter glanced at the other two questioningly, but both Sirius and Remus merely shrugged their shoulders, obviously confused with James's sudden demeanour.

"Come on, then," Remus said, ushering him upstairs.

Peter clambered up behind the two, casually asking them how they'd been during the summer. Sirius was busy recounting a particularly hilarious prank he and James had pulled with Euphemia a week ago, that had barred them from going into the Drawing Room until they returned to Hogwarts.

"James's parents are too lenient with your rowdiness," Remus tutted.

"They love James," Sirius pointed out with a laugh. "And me, obviously. Of course, they'd let us get away with almost anything."

Peter snickered, wondering how Anya would react if she suddenly found herself victim to his best friends' pranks. He really wanted to invite his friends over, but he knew them too well. His mother may be lovely and kind, but she had this fantastic temper that was definitely a trademark of a Selwyn. He knew she wouldn't be lenient with James and Sirius with their pranks. Hermione's knack for ruling with an iron fist undoubtedly came from Anya, after all.

Sirius directed them inside James's bedroom and immediately settled on an elegant maroon armchair with golden trimmings. James was sitting on his King-sized bed, a burgundy blanket draped over his lap.

Peter slightly blinked at the room, still unused to how ridiculously neat and lavish James's room was. It was easy to forget that he was best friends with an insanely rich heir, since James never really acted like a usual, snooty Pureblood bigot when they were at school. Which was why he was still caught off-guard every time he stepped inside the Potter Manor - with every nook and cranny screaming old money.

He chose to sit on an ottoman while Remus invited himself over to sit at the foot of James's bed.

James finally snapped out of his weird mood and played with his Golden Snitch. "Any news, Petey?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Well," he started, "nothing much. Same old, I guess."

The only exciting thing that had happened to him during the break was yesterday, when he had caught Hermione sobbing her eyes out over a can of cheap soda in their fridge. He admittedly panicked at first, because he had never seen his sister cry her eyes out like that, and it had taken him a few minutes to calm her down. Of course, he never bought her lie about hating cheap soda to the point of crying, but at least she looked marginally better after. He still worried about what had bothered her, but he knew she'd tell him if something was wrong with her. Hermione always did after all.

James stopped tossing the Snitch and pulled out his wand. With a brief wave, his door latched closed. Peter's eyes widened, surprised with his display of non-verbal magic, but James had always been brilliant at Charms.

"Have you seen the latest news?" James asked in a low voice, his eyebrows knitting together.

"What news?" Remus asked, confused. "I mean, there was the news about a new Keeper for the Chudley Cannons—"

"No, not that kind of news," James said, cutting him off. "I meant about the attack on Muggles living in Notting Hill."

Peter's eyes widened in recognition. "I heard about that," he gravely replied with a solemn nod. "Hermione and her friends were listening to that yesterday and I overheard."

"The Daily Prophet said it shouldn't cause any alarm," Sirius pointed out with a derisive snort. "Said it was an accident by some wayward wizard."

"Then, how can they explain the Dark Mark?" Peter seriously asked. Identical grave looks appeared on the others' faces. "The witness said she'd seen a mark in the sky – green, with a skull and snake. Isn't that the symbol for Voldemort?"

Sirius flinched at the mention of the evil wizard's name and frowned. "Merlin, I'd actually forgotten about him," he drawled. "My parents wouldn't shut up about him for ages, praising his works and ideology. It was sickening, honestly."

"Well, I overheard my parents talking about it yesterday," James continued. He jumped off his bed and started to pace, absentmindedly tossing the Golden Snitch in the air once more. "They caught me almost immediately, but I demanded them to tell me what they knew about the attack."

"Let me guess," Remus said with a sigh, dramatically falling onto his back. "They said you're too young to know."

"Bingo, Moony," James said, snapping a nod in his direction. "But I insisted I've already turned seventeen, practically an adult by Wizarding standards." He stopped his pacing and frowned deeply at his friends. "And besides, I told them if I were to become an Auror in the future, I should know who I'll be dealing with."

Peter leant forward, his blue eyes trained intently on James. "And they relented?" he asked, hope in the tone of his voice.

He slowly nodded his head and plopped down on his bed again. "They confirmed it was Voldemort who did it," he continued. "There were a lot of victims during the attack, so it was only logical that a huge group of people wreaked havoc." He gravely stared at his friends. "Dad said there were a bunch of wizards and witches, their faces hidden behind silver masks, who mercilessly cast the Killing Curse on the innocent Muggles."

"The Death Eaters," Sirius growled. "Of course."

James nodded his head. "They've grown larger, Dad said. Voldemort has been unceasingly recruiting for years and – well—" He paused and grew worried, his hands now playing with the fluttering wings of the Golden Snitch. "He feared that Voldemort would try to recruit me in the future, since I'm a Pureblood with decent magical skills." His hazel eyes latched onto Sirius's worried ones. "You too, Dad said. As a Black." His eyes then landed on Remus and grimaced. "With your furry little problem, you're possibly off the hook."

Remus snorted, his lips curled into a sneer. "Lucky me," he drawled sarcastically.

"But aren't you a bunch of Blood-Traitors?" Peter blurted out. His cheeks flooded red at their simultaneous eye rolls. "I mean, obviously, you don't share his ideology of ridding the Wizarding World of people who do not have Pureblood running in their veins. Why should he waste time recruiting you both when he can scour the whole Sacred Twenty-Eight to recruit worthy followers?"

Sirius stiffened at his words, and Peter didn't doubt he was thinking about his brother. This made Peter worried too, because he knew from James that Hermione had spent a lot of time with the Black heir last year. If he was bad news, entangled with Voldemort and his scheming ways, then he worried for Hermione's safety.

"Because he wants to build an army," Remus deadpanned. "The Sacred Twenty-Eight isn't enough. He's trying to search for other worthy, strong followers, no matter their blood statuses. Pledging their loyalty to him would be enough."

Peter blanched at Remus's words and fearfully looked at James and Sirius. He didn't really know much about Voldemort since he practically grew up in a Muggle household. Anya's stories about Voldemort were merely fairy tales, something to scare him if he was being naughty. Somehow, he felt that Anya was warning him of Voldemort's dangerous ways, since she grew up in a Pureblood household that was as entangled with the Dark Arts as the Blacks.

"He might come for you too, Peter," James pointed out.

"Me?" he squeaked.

"You're a Selwyn," Sirius explained, nodding his head to agree with James's words. "Despite being a Half-blood, an ancient Pureblood family's blood still courses through your veins. Voldemort might deem you worthy."

Cold fear gripped his heart, blanching at the thought. "I'm not even good at anything," he said with a nervous laugh.

James snorted and continued to toss the Golden Snitch in the air. "I'm sure your golden blood will overshadow whatever faults you have, Wormtail," he pointed out.

"Shite," Remus suddenly said, shooting upright. His eyes were wide like a full moon. "He might come for Hermione."

"What?!" Peter gasped. James fumbled with the Golden Snitch, unable to catch it for the first time in ages. The winged ball zoomed around the room, but the wizards were unable to notice it, their heads filled with Remus's words.

"Shite," Sirius echoed, face growing paler. "It makes sense. Hermione's bloody brilliant, and terrifying, and she's half Selwyn. She's everything the bloody bastard is searching for." The normally carefree wizard suddenly looked too serious, too afraid, and Peter didn't like it one bit. "I don't doubt it either, if he's heard of her already."

The cold fear morphed into a roaring feeling of indignation and overprotection. "No, no, I won't let that happen," he snarled, his hands curling into tight fists.

James distractedly lifted his hand and deftly caught the zooming Snitch. His hand tightly enclosed around the golden ball as he glared darkly at his feet. "Me too," he swore. "He'd have to get through me first."

"And me," Sirius said with a resolute nod.

"And me," Remus echoed with a tense jaw.

Their declaration marginally calmed him down. Peter lightly smiled at his friends, grateful and surprised at the same time, that they were thinking about his sister's welfare too. He didn't really know when it had happened, but Hermione had deeply ingrained herself in the Marauder's life. Sirius had once joked that she was an honorary member of their little club, prompting Hermione to roll her eyes, but somehow, Peter knew Sirius didn't purely mean it as a joke.

"Dad also revealed something to me," James continued, plopping down onto his bed once more. "Our family has always been vocal about our opinions on Pureblood bigotry and all that shite, so we've gained a few enemies along the way. At the same time, we caught the eye of Dumbledore and we have been funding his cause ever since."

"What has Dumbledore got to do with all of this Voldemort drama?" Sirius asked with a frown.

James's hazel eyes lit up in sudden excitement. "Dad said Dumbledore has been secretly building a resistance against Voldemort and his Death Eaters," he lowly said. "The Order of the Phoenix, is what it's called."

Sirius whistled under his breath. "Wicked name," he commended.

"I know," James continued with a wide grin. "Dumbledore's trying to recruit too, and Dad said he might ask us to join after graduating."

"I know it's too early to say," Peter slowly said, "but I'm going to join in a heartbeat. If it means we can get rid of that vile dark lord."

James's grin had grown full-blown. "That's the spirit, Peter," he claimed. "I told my parents I will join too if Dumbledore asks me. Mum was hesitant, said things are about to get messier now that Voldemort's army is growing, but I insisted. We're at war after all. We can't afford not to choose sides."

"Besides, Dumbledore is the only wizard Voldemort fears," Sirius piped in, a wicked grin on his face. "If we want to defeat him, then siding with Dumbledore is the wisest decision."

"So, that's settled then," James said with a firm nod. "Messrs, all in favour of joining 'The Order of the Phoenix' after graduating say aye."

The booming 'Ayes' in the bedroom reverberated against the rich wallpapers.

"Right," James continued with a laugh. "I have one last piece of news."

He rummaged inside his robe pocket and pulled out a shiny object. He tossed it in the air, towards Peter's direction. As someone who wasn't gifted with James's stellar Quidditch reflexes, Peter slightly fumbled with the object and almost didn't catch it.

He threw a light glare at the snickering wizard before he glanced down at the object in his hands, noticing its shiny, maroon colour, bearing a proud, golden 'H' in the middle of it.

"You've made Head Boy?" Peter asked with wide, surprised eyes.

"And this." James quickly pulled out another object in his pocket and threw it in Sirius' direction this time. He was able to catch it more elegantly than Peter and showed another maroon badge, this time with the golden word 'Captain' embossed on it.

"The wanker actually made Quidditch Captain too," Sirius snorted, although a proud smile was stretched on his face.

"Well, I thought Moony'd make Head Boy," Peter pointed out with a quirked eyebrow.

Remus sighed and shrugged. "Dumbledore did offer me the position but I politely declined," he said with a wry smile. "I think being a werewolf is already too much of a responsibility. Besides, I'll still retain my Prefect status, so there's that."

"Hogwarts will surely crash and burn under Prongsie's dictatorship," Sirius joked, immediately ducking when a pillow soared over his head.

"I'm going to be the best Head Boy Hogwarts has ever seen, you just wait," James passionately declared, comically shaking the Golden Snitch in the air.

Peter snorted at his claim. "Imagine Hermione's horror when she discovers you made Head Boy," he pointed out.

The smile on James's face was blinding as he ran a hand through his hair. "She'd be proud of me, yeah?" he said, hope in his voice.

"After she's nagged you first on the importance of being Head Boy, I'm sure, yeah," Peter said with a laugh.

James guffawed and lifted a clenched fist in the air. "Iron fist," he said.

Peter mirrored his hand gesture and widely grinned. "Iron fist," he echoed.

September 1, 1977

People were sombre, Hermione noticed.

As she pulled her trunk along the corridor on the Hogwarts Express in search of her best friends, Hermione couldn't shake away the terrified faces she had seen on parents when they had dropped off their children for another school year. She knew it was from the increasing attacks in both Muggle and Wizarding London. The massacre of Muggle families in Notting Hill wasn't the last. News about wizards and witches, both young and old, dying due to the Killing Curse and other dark curses, had been plastered all over the Daily Prophet. Hermione still scoffed at how they yammered on and on that the world was safe, but the menacing Dark Mark splashed on the front pages every day begged to differ.

Hermione had a feeling before boarding the train that this year would be different, magnificently different. A niggling feeling at the back of her mind constantly told her to be vigilant this school-year, to keep her eyes open for any strange activities, and to observe people who had started to act oddly.

She paused her inner turmoil when she spied Regulus's familiar black hair inside a compartment. The Black heir was alone, his silver eyes trained intently outside the window, seemingly lost in thought.

Shaking her head to get rid of any depressing thoughts, Hermione pasted a small, pleasant smile on her face and opened the compartment door.

"Hey," she greeted.

Instead of his usual drawl, Regulus stiffened at the sound of her voice. The smile on her face faltered as he slowly turned to face her, a dark scowl marring his handsome face. Hermione instantly noticed the dark moons under his eyes, the dangerous glint in his molten silver eyes, and his tense jaw.

"What do you want?" he irately snapped.

Hermione's eyebrows knitted together in confusion, wondering why Regulus was in such a bad mood. "Well, somebody got up on the wrong side of the bed," she deliberately said, hoping her tone sounded teasing instead of confused and angry.

She watched as his hands on his lap balled into tight fists. "Get out," he harshly whispered.

"What?" she snapped, growing a tad furious at the tone of his voice.

"I said get out, Pettigrew," he ground out through gritted teeth. "Do I have to repeat myself?"

"Blimey, what has gotten into you?" she said, rolling her eyes at his ridiculous temper.

Regulus was suddenly on his feet, his wand clutched tightly in his right hand. "Get out, Pettigrew, or I'll—"

"What, hex me?" she growled, glaring darkly at his brandished wand. "No need to waste your energy, Black. I'm leaving. And here I thought we were actually friends."

She harrumphed away and stomped out of the compartment, but not before she saw a certain flicker in his silver eyes that bothered her immensely.

As she crossed the threshold, her path was blocked by a towering form. Blinking in surprise, she lifted her face and was greeted by Barty Crouch Jr.'s snarling face. His tongue still did that weird, flicking thing as he met her gaze with wild, beady eyes.

"You're in my way," she softly murmured, trying to stamp down whatever discomfort he made her feel. There was something about the young version of the Death Eater that still gave her the creeps. Perhaps, she remembered how he'd consumed bottles of Polyjuice Potion to impersonate a respectable veteran Auror, just to orchestrate the return of Voldemort.

"Is she bothering you, Regulus?" he casually asked, looking over her shoulder to stare at the silent heir behind her.

She kept her gaze on the Slytherin in front of her, unable to see whatever movement Regulus did.

"Let her go," he coldly commanded. "She was just leaving."

Disappointment bloomed on Crouch's face as he looked back at Hermione. Briefly, she remembered an image of Crouch disguised as Moody, his wand pointed at a poor spider as he uttered Unforgivables.

Hermione swallowed down her fear and pushed past him, ignoring the other Slytherin lurking behind the menacing wizard.

She soon found Lily and Sev a few compartments away from where Regulus had been. By the time she had slid inside, she was more bothered with Regulus's odd behaviour than furious. Such was her distraction, she didn't even notice the new shining badge pinned on Lily's robe, or how she hastily withdrew her hand from Sev's warm hold.

"Is something the matter, Hermione?" the redhead asked, worry on her face as she stood up from her seat beside the Slytherin and sat down beside the brunette instead.

"I just had the strangest encounter with Regulus Black," the brunette said with a frown, unwilling to let her thoughts run wild in fear of what she'd conclude.

Severus's face darkened at the mention of his name. "Hermione," he growled, "I told you to stay away from him."

Hermione rolled her eyes, too tired to snap at him. "And I told you I'd associate myself with whoever I want, Sev," she tiredly pointed out.

His jaw tensed as he suddenly shot forward and tightly gripped her hands. "Hermione, please," he beseeched. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw how Lily's eyes widened at his begging. "I know you are mighty stubborn and I know you can take care of yourself, but all I'm asking is for you to stop being friends with Black. Especially now. Not when he's—" He tentatively trailed off, his black eyes shifting away from Hermione's horrified stare. "If you want to live a happy life, you should stay away from him, and anybody else he associates with for that matter."

Bile rose in her throat.

She wanted to stop herself from thinking, knowing that she'd arrive at a conclusion that would make one of her worst fears realised. But with Sev's eyes and words, Hermione already had this inkling as to why Regulus was acting as such.

'It's happening,' a panicked voice whispered. 'It's happening. The war. It's here. It's here.'

"Hermione?" Lily's voice cut through her inner terror. "You don't look good."

"I – I'm going to the loo," she excused.

Before Lily or Sev could stop her, Hermione scrambled out of their compartment and blindly sought for the comfort of the toilet. As soon as she got there, she doubled over the toilet and proceeded to empty her stomach. Tears pricked her eyes at the force and she shakily wiped away the beads of sweat on her forehead once she was done.

"It's happening," she whispered to no one. The tears in her eyes increased as dread grew and engulfed her whole. She worried about Regulus Black, who had become her friend.

As she leaned her head against the cold wall, Hermione had a single thought running inside of her mind.

The war was here and she knew she couldn't look away anymore.

A/N: Hehe, welcome to Hermione's sixth year!

Before I forget, Peter Pettigrew as a half-Selwyn is purely made up. Like I said, his background info is abysmal but I'd like to think one of the reasons why he's inclined with the Dark Arts was because of his maternal family. The Selwyns is part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, but they're not fleshed out in canon too much so I chose them by default hahaha.

Again, your reviews had really been lovely and my love for y'all grows and grows every day.

See you again tomorrow! That's it for now.

With love,
WickedlyAwesomeMe

P.S. Follow me on tumblr (kimmy-writes). I post fancasts and moodboards because I'm bored hAHAHAHA. Tho, I think that will be infrequent already since I'll be studying like crazy this week.