A/N: Thank you to my Beta, lozipozivanillabean. Enjoy!

xxiv.

a brute force with the sweetest disguise

(Falling in Love Pie by Sara Bareilles)

November 5, 1977

A month flew by without any news from Regulus.

Sitting on the Ravenclaw table, Hermione tried to catch his attention, but Regulus was too busy conversing with Crouch and Rosier. She grimaced at how smirky the other two were, with mischievous glints in their eyes as they most likely talked about new ways to torment Muggleborns and how best to please their Dark Lord.

Hermione scowled at her fried chicken and furiously sliced through the meat, wondering if her conversation with the Black heir in the Astronomy Tower had been in vain after all. She honestly thought he'd crack by now; she'd seen his desperate eyes and the hope that had bloomed in them when she spoke of a way to bring Voldemort down. She also knew she was the one who had suggested for him to think things through, but Hermione hadn't expected it would stretch on for an entire month. A few days after their meeting would have been all right, but as October had bled into a cold November, Hermione was starting to lose hope herself.

"What did that poor chicken do to you this time?"

The Ravenclaw lifted her eyes and weakly smiled at a bemused Lily. Her eyes briefly flickered towards her and Sev's interlaced fingers before sighing. "It's been a tiring day," she easily lied, scooting over a bit to give them room. Lily took the seat beside Hermione whilst Sev took the vacant seat across from them.

"I sometimes wonder who's really taking NEWTs this year," Sev drawled with a quirked eyebrow, pointedly looking at the opened Herbology textbook beside her plate.

Hermione frowned and protectively held her book. "I like to study," she protested, perhaps for the umpteenth time. "You, on the other hand, are not studying enough."

"You mean enough to match your standards," Lily corrected with a laugh. "Hermione, honestly, we may not have gotten all 'O's in our OWLs, but we still managed to get more than others. We do set aside time to study. I promise."

"How was I to know that when you've been studying so infrequently with me," the brunette petulantly murmured.

Lily and Sev exchanged amused glances. "You've been spending an awful amount of time with the Marauders," Lily pointed out with a wide grin. "The blokes may have stopped going out of their way to torment Sev, but there's still bad blood between them."

"Yeah, well, they needed someone to mother them."

Sev snorted and threw her a wary glance. "They're not a bunch of children for you to mother, Hermione," he tutted. "Potter, most especially, shouldn't be coddled, seeing as he's a spoiled, arrogant toerag."

The corner of her lips twitched at his words. "That's not entirely false," she said, followed by a soft chuckle. "I'm sorry; I'm just really worried about their NEWTs, especially Peter's. They'd all be so devastated if they weren't accepted by the ministry."

"Sometimes, I wonder if you're in the wrong House," Lily said with a deep sigh. "Your golden heart must be envied by all the Hufflepuffs."

"They wouldn't be able to handle her big brain," Sev pointed out matter-of-factly.

"Hey, I know Hufflepuffs who are smart," Hermione protested, secretly thinking about Hannah Abbot and Ernie MacMillan. Sev merely made a face at her comment and went back to eating his lunch.

Lily spent the whole of lunch chattering incessantly about the conclusion of her career essay and how she felt like she'd be a good Unspeakable in the future. "I've already talked to Professor McGonagall and she said I'd be brilliant at it," Lily continued. "I'd never really thought about being one before, to be honest. I always thought I'd be a paper pusher in the ministry instead."

"Unspeakables push papers, too, Lils," Hermione pointed out with an amused smile.

"Oh, I know that," the redhead said, rolling her eyes. "What I mean is, I never really considered being an Unspeakable before because I heard it's quite hard. Not to mention, rumour has it that most of the employees there, have grown barmy over the years, unable to handle the mysteries they were confronted with."

"Ah, well, it looks like you will belong perfectly then," Sev claimed with a teasing smirk.

Lily laughed and swatted him playfully. "Shut up, sourpuss," she grinned.

"You'll need loads of knowledge about Arithmancy, Lily," Hermione reminded. "It will be hard, but quite enjoyable, too. I did consider becoming an Unspeakable myself, since Arithmancy's my favourite subject."

"It needs loads of Divination too, you know," Lily quipped with a grin. "And I know how you loathe that subject."

"An unfortunate downside," Hermione replied, her nose scrunching up in distaste. "Honestly, I think most wizards or witches who claim to be 'seers' are bloody frauds, spouting ridiculous predictions that suit the desires of others. At least with Arithmancy, numbers don't lie."

"Figures you'd say something like that," the older witch said. "But unlike you, I actually find Divination interesting. So, with the right mixture of Arithmancy and Divination, I think being an Unspeakable would be good for me."

Sev frowned and leant closer to Lily. "The year-long training takes up too much time and effort," he stiffly pointed out. "Professor Slughorn once told us their working hours almost rivalled the schedules of Healers."

"So, in short, you'll miss me terribly whilst you're running around with your beloved Slughorn," Lily teased, prompting Sev's cheeks to redden in embarrassment.

"Excuse me," he huffed, lifting his crooked nose in the air. "Bold of you to assume that."

Lily rolled her eyes and glanced at Hermione. "Look how melodramatic he becomes when we start to talk about feelings," the redhead said, followed by a snort of laughter. "Admit it, Sev; you're invested in my future too, because you want to be a huge part of it."

His cheeks reddened more, drawling words that only made Lily roll her eyes more and laugh.

Hermione quietly observed her best friends, slightly uncomfortable with how they were ridiculously adorable. Sev was stupid with his feelings, but the embarrassment in his eyes already spoke volumes about Lily's speculation. And Lily, bless her bloody soul, understood him completely – his attitude, his thoughts, his everything – and Hermione had never seen a relationship like that before.

It was sweet and sad at the same time. Judging from how they were acting right now, she doubted their relationship was coming to an end. Their graduation was already drawing nearer, yet Lily had never shown any interest in James.

'There's plenty of time,' she assured herself. 'Let them have their fun.'

Hermione smiled sadly as Lily threw back her head and released a boisterous laugh, before standing up from the bench and jogging towards Sev. She pressed against him and grinned, whispering things against his ear that made him flush redder.

"Please don't be gross in front of me," Hermione murmured, her nose scrunching up when Lily placed a sweet kiss on his cheek.

"Apologies, Hermione," Lily said unapologetically, her green eyes glinting brightly when Sev unconsciously gave her a small smile.

Their relationship was definitely getting stronger. Hermione had no idea how Lily and James would end up together.

November 7, 1977

James was still a huge problem for Hermione. With Regulus not contacting her at all, Hermione had no other choice but to focus on her studies and diligently do her homework. But, since she had no major exams this year, she found herself mostly at a loss of what to do.

The Marauders frequently studied with her, though, and had been growing nervous as the weeks flew by. Their professors had been constantly stressing about the importance of NEWTs for their future career paths, which didn't help the nerves of her aspiring Auror friends. Sometimes, Marlene and Mary dropped by to accompany their boyfriends, and inevitably got gifted with Hermione's infamous colour-coded schedule as a result.

Suffice to say, her study group had become crowded, which Hermione didn't really mind. She was just glad more and more of her seventh-year friends were taking their upcoming NEWTs seriously.

The problem however, was that her constant accompaniment with the Marauders meant she was spending an awful lot of time with James, too.

The bespectacled wizard was still suspiciously and patiently waiting for her answer, secretly doing little sweet things behind the others' back that made her heart ache a bit. Now that Lily and Sev were dating, Hermione couldn't help but wonder if it wouldn't hurt to try things out with James. Her annoying feelings for him had persisted after all. No, damn it, she believed the feelings had actually grown, especially after discovering her feelings weren't one-sided.

James didn't seem like he'd be stopping soon either. He was still sneaking toffees inside her robe pocket when he thought she wasn't looking. He would insist on escorting her back to her dormitory, sometimes letting his fingers brush against hers when they were walking.

It was so hard to get rid of him because he was everywhere. Even when they were apart, Hermione's eyes would unconsciously scan the whole corridor just to search for his familiar, untidy dark hair. And then, if she'd see him, her heart would flutter in delight and her lips would stretch into a small smile.

It was maddening how she was going barmy over a boy. It was unlike Hermione, to pine over a boy at a time when she should be concentrating on her studies. But then again, she'd been like this with Ron, irrationally getting jealous when she'd see him interact with Lavender or how she'd unconsciously singling him out in a sea of people.

She finally found a moment of solitude for herself when she chose to do her homework near the Black Lake. Lily and Sev were away doing something Hermione didn't want to concern herself with. There were no study sessions today either, so Hermione had the day all to herself.

The Ravenclaw started pulling her things out of her bag and piling them on her lap, mentally trying to schedule her to-do list for the day. She unrolled a blank parchment and smoothed down the edges, before rummaging inside her bag for a quill. What she pulled out was the turkey quill she had borrowed from James.

Hermione blinked at the quill, finally realising it had been with her for a month already. James had never asked for it back, so Hermione had forgotten about it.

With a firm nod, she promised herself she'd return the quill as soon as she crossed paths with James. She would be sad to part with it, because it really was an amazing quill, but it wasn't hers, and it did cost a fortune. James would surely want it back.

The Ravenclaw started writing on the parchment, her mind already getting lost in all of the information she was gathering.

She wasn't entirely sure how much time had passed, but she was suddenly staring into the hazel eyes which had been the object of her dreams lately.

Hermione's eyes widened and she owlishly blinked at a grinning James.

"What the hell are you doing outside?" he asked with a laugh. "Blimey, Whiskers. It's freezing!"

Now that he mentioned it, she was actually a bit cold. Hermione frowned at the slightly wet ground and was annoyed the warming and drying charm she had simultaneously placed on herself and the grass underneath her was starting to wear off.

"It's a nice day to be outside the castle," she explained. Hermione absentmindedly rubbed her slightly numb nose and grimaced. "Apparently a nice day to get sick too."

"We don't want that now, do we?" James seriously asked.

The corner of Hermione's lips lifted into a small smile. "What are you doing here?" she asked as she crammed her things inside her bag.

"You weren't in the library," James said, nervously ruffling his hair. It was sticking in various directions, much to Hermione's amusement. "So I thought you'd be here."

She threw a silent question in his direction, prompting him to sheepishly smile. "I was planning to do some studying today," he explained. "I'm not sure what the others are up to, but I'm sure they wouldn't want to study with me today."

"Remus would," she pointed out matter-of-factly.

"Yes, well, he isn't a pretty study partner, so why invite him over when there's someone else I have in mind?" James gave her a cheeky smile while she rolled her eyes.

Hermione slowly climbed onto her feet whilst James immediately grabbed onto her bag and swung it over his shoulders.

"I can carry it, you know," she stated.

"Pureblood etiquette and all that shite," he said with a dismissive wave of hand. "Mum would go ballistic if she discovered I never carried your things when we were together."

Hermione made a face but didn't comment about it any further. Times like these, she was secretly relieved her mother had been disowned by her family. Else, she'd have been raised like a proper Selwyn. It was already weird for her being a Half-Blood in this timeline, but she had managed to adjust quickly, because Anya had raised them mostly through Muggle ways. Hermione would surely have gone crazy if she'd found out she was a Pureblood instead.

Slightly shivering from the cold, Hermione placed her bare hands inside her thin sweater. Her fingers touched the soft material of the turkey quill and she immediately remembered her promise to return it to James as soon as possible.

She pulled out the handsome quill and extended it towards him. "Sorry, I think I've kept this with me for too long," she said with an apologetic smile. "I'm returning it now."

James knitted his eyebrows briefly at the turkey quill, but then recognition sparked in his eyes. "You can keep it," he said, lightly blushing. His hand nervously ran through his hair. "Actually, I bought it for you."

Her eyes popped out in surprise. "What? But it's so expensive!" she exclaimed, pressing the quill towards his chest.

The older Gryffindor merely laughed and gently pushed it back into her hands. "Why'd you think I asked for your opinion about what the best quill was?" he said with a meaningful glance. "I use whatever quill is available, but I know you always break yours due to your mighty grip. I thought I'd save you from the constant need to replace your quills by buying you the best one."

Her cheeks flushed, her heartbeat quickening at the fact that he'd been thinking about her and her small discomforts in life.

"Uh-oh, did I sway your heart already?" he asked with a triumphant grin.

She narrowed her eyes and harrumphed away, stomping purposively towards the castle. She heard James's lovely laugh as he caught up with her.

Hermione slipped the turkey quill inside her sweater once more, knowing it'd be futile to insist returning it. Besides, she'd grown really fond with it and she had been hesitant to part with it.

A cool breeze then brushed against her exposed cheeks, prompting her to lightly shiver again.

"Cold?" he asked.

"A bit," she confessed, already pulling out her wand from her pocket.

But, before she could cast a warming spell on herself, James was already shrugging off his outer robe and draping it over her shoulders.

Hermione froze, the cloak slightly heavier than what she'd expected. Since James was a head taller than her, the cloak almost dragged at the hems.

"You should start to bundle up, Whiskers," the Head Boy admonished. "You shouldn't rush outside without a thick cloak or even a scarf to warm you up."

His robe smelled so much like him and Hermione couldn't stop herself from smiling stupidly. She slipped her hands inside his pockets to keep her hands warm, but then paused when her fingertips touched something familiar.

Heart thudding loudly inside her chest, she pulled out a handful of toffees from his pockets and stared at him with wide eyes.

"Um, you did say toffees are your most favourite candy," he explained with a sheepish smile. "I happened to buy a lot last Hogsmeade weekend, and well, I admittedly prefer other sweets to toffees. So, when you're not looking, I sneak them inside your pockets. You tend to skip meals when you're too engrossed with your studies, after all. At least I thought I'd give you some extra sugar that you might need to keep your brain awake."

Hermione tightly clenched the sweets in her hands and glanced heavenward. "Fuck," she hissed. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck this."

She proceeded to storm away from James, her footsteps heavier as her heart fluttered wildly inside her ribcage. 'No, no, no,' she told herself countless times. She wouldn't get swayed, not even when he was being ridiculously sweet and kind and… and earnest. Sometimes, Hermione wished he'd just be an obnoxious little twat, proclaiming his interest for her through grand gestures that she'd surely cringe at. But no, oh no, James Potter chose to do it in the sweetest way possible and she was not having any of it!

"Hermione!" the Gryffindor shouted, running quickly towards her and grabbing her arm. He peered down at her flushed face with worry. "What's wrong? Did I say anything wrong?"

"YES!" she bellowed, rounding on him with furious, blue eyes.

James looked uncertain, his grip on her arm loosening. "I'm sorry," he apologised, though it was obvious he didn't even know what he had done wrong. "I – well, if I offended you in any way, I'm really sorry."

"No, no, you can't be like – like that!" she shrieked, gesturing wildly in his general direction.

"What? Her—"

"Why do you have to be so persistent?" she claimed as her hand climbed to her heart. "This wasn't supposed to happen. You and me— it's not— it's wrong." She felt stupid at best, especially when her eyes prickled with tears she didn't even wish to show. "But – but you went ahead and proceeded to be all sweet and kind and bloody earnest. I can't—" She deflated, all her energy suddenly dissipating with the cold wind as she slumped forward and hung her head. "You're making it so hard for me to avoid you, James Potter."

Her blue eyes met his stunned hazels. A huge, radiant grin then broke out on his face as he clutched both of her cold hands in his big, warm ones. "Then don't avoid me, Hermione," he declared matter-of-factly. "I can see that you like me too, just as much as I like you and blimey you have no idea how frustrating it is to see you dance around your feelings."

"Well, aren't we terribly presumptuous?" she petulantly spat.

But James was unfazed. In fact, he laughed and ducked his head lower so that he could peer at her flushed face. "I don't really understand why you're trying so hard to keep me at an arm's length," he said. "I think we're going to be great together, Hermione."

"James—"

"I've been mighty patient with you because Good Godric, Hermione, I really like you," he said, cutting her off. "And I don't want to botch things up before you've agreed to go on any more dates with me. I knew you'd hate the grand, obnoxious displays of affection I used to pull off for Lily, so I did what you told me to do. I was earnest and – and—"

He dared to draw closer, his face only a hairsbreadth away from hers, and Hermione stopped breathing all together. "I promise I'll make you laugh every day," he continued. "If you'd like, I'll always study with you or escort you back to the Ravenclaw Tower. Just please, please, please, give this a chance."

Despite how confused she felt, Hermione softly snorted. "I will never get rid of you, will I?" she said.

His smile was almost blinding. "Tough luck, Whiskers," he replied. "I don't think I'm going anywhere."

Hermione took a sharp intake of breath and gazed heavenward once more. "Blast it all," she sighed in resignation. When her blue eyes snapped towards James's hopeful ones, she grew determined. "Fine. Go to the next Hogsmeade weekend with me. Like a date."

James laughed and playfully ruffled his hair. "Blimey, Hermione, you don't need to look so terrifying when asking me out for a date," he joked.

He looked like Christmas had come early, and although a part of her still thought it was a bad idea, she couldn't help but smile ridiculously at how giddy he looked. His hazel eyes almost looked bright brown now, like the very soil after a light drizzle of rain, and the corners of his eyes crinkled in genuine happiness.

James reached forward and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. "I might arrive early for our date again," he lightly warned.

His smile grew lopsided, and armed with his mesmerising eyes and windswept hair, Hermione couldn't help but to sigh. He still looked so much like Harry, but looking at him evoked different emotions. Every time she had gazed at Harry Potter, all Hermione felt was a strong sense of duty and protection. Looking at James Potter, however, gave her dizzying emotions, a whirlwind of both familiar and strange, confusing feelings that she truly wanted to unravel to her heart's content.

Perhaps this was still a bad idea, but Hermione couldn't hold back anymore.

November 8, 1977

Hermione was startled when a book was slid in front of her.

For a moment, she blinked dumbly at the book, the words Magick Moste Evile scrawled menacingly on the front, and the cover almost peeling off from age and use. A brief glance at the spine made her conclude this book had been really well loved.

Grimacing, she directed her eyes towards Regulus Black. "I brought the proverbial olive branch," he said, stiffly gesturing at the vile book.

Blood rushed to Hermione's ears, and she once again glanced at the book with newfound excitement. "I thought you'd never come," she confessed.

Regulus slumped forward, his curls curtaining his gaunt face. "I had a lot of things to think about," he gruffly explained. His steely grey eyes met hers, hardened with a determination Hermione had never seen him wear before. "And I've already arrived at a decision."

Hermione nodded her head and instantly pulled out her wand. She scanned the library, relieved that it was relatively devoid of students today. With a few, quick waves, she incanted various spells which would protect them from being overheard.

Satisfied with her handiwork, Hermione pocketed her wand and glanced at Regulus once more. "Last chance, Regulus," she whispered. "Do you really want to do this?"

He clenched his hands into tight fists, his knuckles almost stark white against the dark, wooden table. His jaw tensed with nervous anticipation, but his eyes still looked resolute. "I'm sure," he said with a tight nod. "I know it's stupid to trust you easily, especially someone as brilliant as you, but I—" He clamped his lips tight, his fists clenching more. "I want to trust you, Pettigrew, because I'm so tired of doing what is expected of me."

Hermione's heart went out to the poor boy, her hand immediately darting forward to hold one of his fists. "I'll try my best to help you," she proclaimed unwaveringly. "There might be things that confuse you, things that might make you suspicious, but I promise you, everything will make sense in the end. Please always trust me."

In spite of the tense atmosphere, Regulus lightly smirked. "That isn't something you should say when you want someone to trust you, Pettigrew," he drawled. "No wonder you weren't Sorted into Slytherin."

"Besides my Blood Status?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"There are plenty of Half-Bloods in our House. And please, you have Selwyn blood coursing in your veins," he pointed out with a scoff. "The Slytherin House would have gained an asset if you had been Sorted there."

"I'll take that as a compliment," she said with a soft chuckle. "But pass. I heard the Slytherin dormitories are terribly cold, especially in winter."

"Of course there are a bunch of heating charms," Regulus said, followed by a derisive snort. "We're bloody witches and wizards. We're not some cold-blooded reptiles who thrive in cold temperatures."

Hermione broke into a huge grin, relieved that they could still easily fall into conversation, even if he'd avoided her like the plague for the past two months.

Regulus grew a bit uncomfortable at her earnest expression and gestured at the thick tome instead. "So, why'd you want me to get this from Grimmauld?" he asked.

"Because Voldemort's downfall is written in here," she stated matter-of-factly, ignoring how he flinched at the mention of his name. "There's a copy here in the library, but it's in the Restricted Section. Professor Flitwick would surely grow suspicious if I asked for his permission slip."

"It is an evil book," Regulus said, lips curling at the tattered book. "Unsurprisingly, it's my mother's favourite book."

Hermione scowled at the mention of Walburga, memories of her shrieking painting resurfacing in her mind. Shaking her head to rid herself of thoughts of the incorrigible woman, Hermione opened the book and breezed through the pages.

Finally, she arrived at the chapter she was looking for. "Here," she said, pointing at the title of the book designed with black smoke and skulls.

"Hor… crux?" Regulus mouthed, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. He briefly scanned the chapter, which was more of a paragraph, really. "'Of the Horcruxes, wickedest of magical inventions, we shall not speak nor give direction…'." He lifted his eyes to frown at Hermione. "Well, that's terribly helpful."

"This is the only book I know which even briefly mentions them," she said with a frustrated sigh. "You see, it is the vilest of all Dark Arts. Even a book boasting descriptions of the evilest magic refuses to speak about it. There is only one book that details how to make a horcrux. Though, I doubt it would be housed in Grimmauld Place."

"Then, how do you know about this?" Regulus asked, his grey eyes suspiciously narrowing.

Hermione merely shook her head. "I cannot answer that yet," she said with a dismissive frown. "What I can tell you is what a horcrux is. Are you sure you've never heard about them before? Something your parents might have mentioned in passing?" She sighed when Regulus shook his head. "Figures. Even Voldemort had a hard time researching them before."

Regulus looked like he was about to ask another question, but bit his bottom lip to stop himself in the end.

"Basically, a horcrux is an artifact that houses a piece of a wizard's or witch's soul," she sombrely continued, her voice low enough that Regulus had to lean closer just to hear her words. "It is said that if the maker commits a crime most foul – murder – the soul will be damaged. A fragment of one's soul can then be ripped off from the maker via a spell and can be housed in whatever artifact he wishes. The sole purpose of why a horcrux is created is—"

"—immortality," Regulus breathlessly claimed. He looked highly disturbed and scooted away from the book. "It makes sense. If Vol – the Dark Lord claims he is invincible, then his body cannot be destroyed."

"Technically, you can do it," she corrected matter-of-factly. "It just means you cannot entirely get rid of that person since he still has a horcrux binding him to this very earth. Dark magic can be used to give the dark wizard another corporeal form."

Regulus knitted his eyebrows, deep in thought. "So, the only way to destroy an invincible wizard such as Voldemort is to destroy his horcrux," he deliberately said, realisation dawning on him.

"Horcruxes, plural, actually."

His eyes grew wide with horror and surprise. "What?" he asked.

"I think, if I'm not wrong, Voldemort has already made five horcruxes," she explained calmly.

"Five?" he gasped, considerably paling at this information. "How do you know all about this? Are you a fucking Seer?"

Hermione wryly smiled. "Hardly," she replied.

"Then how—"

"Just trust me for now, Regulus," she hastily said, closing the vile book and pushing it towards him. She took a quick glance at her wristwatch and grimaced. "It's best if you leave. Curfew's in a few minutes."

"Pettigrew—"

"I'll answer some of your questions tomorrow night at the Astronomy Tower, I promise," she said with a tone of finality in her voice.

"But—"

Hermione pierced him with a firm glare. "I will tell you everything," she vowed. "But not now. All in due time. Just please, please trust me for now, Regulus."

He looked like he still wanted to ask a question, but before he could open his mouth, her name was suddenly called.

Hermione's eyes widened. Her eyes met James's steely hazel ones, his lips pressed firmly. Underneath the table, she deftly terminated the spells she placed around their table. "James," she slowly said. "What are you doing here?"

"It's almost curfew," he blurted out. When his hazel eyes swept to the silent Slytherin, he frowned. "I came to escort you back to the Ravenclaw Tower."

She glanced at Regulus, who now was casually gazing at the Head Boy, looking as if he they weren't talking about Voldemort's downfall just a while ago. Hermione silently kicked his shin under the table, forcing him to look at her. "Leave. Now," she mouthed.

A strange smirk flitted on his face, deftly glancing back at James and ignoring her all together. This prompted James to scowl in annoyance.

"You're not done for the day?" the Gryffindor gruffly asked.

Hermione surreptitiously pushed Magick Moste Evile towards Regulus. "He's just leaving," she said. "I will be leaving soon too."

Regulus stubbornly kept himself seated on the chair across from her. Hermione kicked his shin again, this time with more force. This made the Slytherin flinch a bit as he threw a light glare her way. "Leave," she mouthed once more, slightly panicking at the thought that James might see the evil book on their table and start asking difficult questions.

The Black heir rolled his eyes and finally, blessedly, stood up from his chair. He grabbed Magick Moste Evile, gave her a curt goodbye, and swiftly swept out of the library.

Her gaze settled back on the tense Head Boy once Regulus completely disappeared from the library. "You didn't have to escort me back to the Ravenclaw Tower," she said, internally sighing in relief. James didn't seem to notice the book at all.

"And I promised you I will anyway."

She frowned at his grumpy tone. "Why are you mad?" she snapped.

His scowl deepened as he started to wordlessly cram Hermione's things inside her bag. "No, I'm not," he shot back.

His expression was strangely reminiscent of that time he came to the library and found her studying with Regulus. She didn't understand his behaviour back then, but as she silently observed the annoyed Head Boy, his declaration of affection for her echoing in her ears, Hermione's eyes widened in realisation.

"Are you… are you jealous?"

The way his cheeks reddened was already telling. "No, I'm not," he petulantly replied.

Hermione snorted in disbelief. "Yes you are, you berk," she said. "And with Regulus?"

He bristled with the mention of his name. "You're spending an awful lot of time with him," he cried, not bothering to come up with a lie anymore.

A soft laugh escaped from her lips as she stood up. This only made him more embarrassed. "We're just friends," she reassured. "And… we're not even together, James Potter. Blimey."

"Yet," he sniped back, swinging the strap of her back on his shoulder. "Need I remind you you asked me out for a Hogsmeade date, Whiskers?"

This time, it was her turn to blush. "Yes," she replied. "But it's just that. A date."

"Hmm."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

James sighed, almost exasperatedly. "Nothing." He awkwardly scratched his chin and glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes. "So you and Sirius's brother—"

"We're just friends," she insisted once more.

"Well, you really do spend an awful lot of time with him," he blurted out. "I mean, every time I searched for your name in the Map, you're always with him and—" James's eyes widened in horror, realising what he had just revealed.

Hermione had skidded into a halt and gaped at the Head Boy. "You were spying on me? On the bloody Map?" Her voice had grown shrilly, prompting James to flinch.

"It was just one time," he hastily assured. Hermione scoffed and crossed her arms against her chest. "Okay, so maybe I did it twice or thrice…" Her eyes turned steely, watching as a blush bloomed on both of his cheeks. "Not more than five times, Hermione. I promise!" He groaned and ran a hand through his face. "I know, I know. It's not a nice thing to do. Bordering creepy, even."

"You got that bloody right, you prat," she sniped. Mentally, she thought that it would be disastrous if the Marauders started to get suspicious with her constant secret meetings with Regulus. Helping Regulus was already a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing and Hermione still had no clear idea how she would do it. She'd rather she didn't drag the Marauders into this mess.

An idea suddenly formed in her mind as she extended her hand. "Give it to me," she said. "I'm confiscating it."

"You can't do that!" he exclaimed. "You're not even a Marauder."

Hermione snorted. "I thought I am the truest Marauder of us all?" she cheekily replied.

"Is it really necessary, Hermione?" he whined, his bottom lip protruding into a small pout.

"I'm going to return it to you soon enough," she reassured. "You and your friends have become very dependent of it, though. Not to mention, you're using it to spy on me, so there's that too."

"The other blokes will get mad."

Hermione rolled her eyes and incessantly shook her hand. "I don't care, Potter," she demanded. "If you don't give it to me, I'm going to cancel our Hogsmeade date."

"Resorting to blackmailing me now, are we?" he grumbled. Hermione stood her ground and gave him a firm glare. Finally, James expelled a huge, resigned sigh. "Fine. Blimey. Thank Merlin, I really bloody like you."

Her cheeks reddened at his casual declaration. James rummaged inside his bag and pulled out the Marauder's Map. Hermione was about to snatch it from his hands, but the Head Boy pressed it against his chest. "This is a treasure, Hermione," he lightly warned. "Take care of it."

She remembered all the adventures she had with Harry and Ron, able to sneak around Hogwarts just to bloody save the whole world. "I'm going to return it to you," she promised.

He sighed once more and tentatively placed the parchment on her awaiting hand.

A/N: I mean, y'all have been demanding for it. I told you this fic is slow burn-y! Please don't be mad if you get super frustrated hahahaha.

You still have a lot questions in you reviews and like what I've said before, you'll get your answers soon enough as the story progresses. Basically, we're kind of far from the climax of this whole story so you have no choice but to suffer in silence and anticipation for now ahahahahaha. I guess you can say that this whole fic is really slow burn-y – romance and plot-wise.

Also, holy moly, the views are spiking up! I'm flattered you're still reading this fic, which simply stemmed from my current obsession with anything James Potter and my mild curiosity on Peter Pettigrew's character. So, if you're a new reader, again, I update every day! Lucky you ahahaha!

See you tomorrow!

With love,
WickedlyAwesomeMe

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