A/N: Thank you so much for all of your overwhelming response in the previous chapter! I'm really so excited to for you to read the future chapters!
As always, thank you to my lovely Beta, lozipozivanillabean. Enjoy!
xxxvi.
we left our date of birth and our history behind
(Mars by Sleeping at Last)
January 4, 1979
Everything was a dizzying blur for Hermione.
At first, no one dared to move after Peter had spoken. Even Hermione held her breath, unsure as to why Peter had brought them to Potter Manor, of all places. Peter looked tense, his blue eyes almost icy under the lights in James's bedroom, and his jaw was clenched so tightly, that she wouldn't be surprised if his gums started bleeding soon. James gaped at them like a fish out of water, his raven-coloured hair sticking up at ridiculous angles - his thick-rimmed glasses askew on the tip of his nose.
Then, beside her, Regulus rolled over on the carpet once more and retched. The cursed liquid slithered out of his mouth - ominous green soaking the rich, velvety carpet on the floor.
This brought action back into the room as both Peter and James reached for Regulus and hauled him onto the bed. Hermione pulled out her wand and spelled the vomit away, her eyes trained intently on the carpet, as she knew the boys were now looking pointedly in her direction.
"What the bloody hell happened?" James harshly asked.
Hermione slowly stood up from the floor and hesitantly glanced at the other two. Peter's face looked tight and gaunt, undoubtedly still plagued by visions of what had transpired back at the cave. James looked marvellously confused and thunderous, his hazel eyes glinting at how dishevelled she looked. Her denim jeans were ripped in various places due to slipping on the jagged rocks. Peter may have spelled her dry and warm, but she was still filthy from her skirmish with the Inferi under the black lake.
The fact that she had almost died back at the cave crashed over her. Tears prickled her eyes and she hugged herself tightly at the feeling of hopelessness that had overcome her when she and Regulus were sinking farther and farther away from the surface of the water. Her skin still stung with the feeling of the Inferi's deathly grips. She kept replaying how they clambered on top of each other to do their master's bidding and drown Hermione.
She was quivering again, this time due to the horrors they had just gone through. Although she tried to convince herself they'd been successful - that they had gotten the horcrux… Everything that had happened back in the cave had awakened all of Hermione Granger's memories of the war.
Instantly, Peter was in front of her, holding her tight. "Shh, you're safe," he soothed, dropping kisses on top of her bushy hair. "It's all right, Hermione. You're safe. You're safe."
She didn't realise she was starting to breakdown until she felt Peter's warmth. She took huge, gasping breaths, the feeling of drowning in the lake seizing her whole. She tightly clutched the back material of Peter's clothes, as if it was the anchor she needed to get back to shore. Peter started to rub circles on her back, whispering incoherent words of comfort against her ear. He didn't stop until she could properly breathe once more.
"She needs to change out of those clothes," James whispered.
Peter stiffly nodded his head. "I'm going to let go of you now, Hermione," he said, peering down at her with unadulterated worry in his blue eyes. "We need you to change out of your clothes, okay?"
Dumbly, she nodded her head and allowed him to pull away from her. Her hand, however, instinctively grasped onto his sleeve as her blurry eyes met James's gaze. Through her tears, she wasn't able to see what expression he was making. All she knew was he'd donned a white shirt to cover his bare chest and that he was extending his favourite, worn Gryffindor jumper towards her.
Peter gently pulled his arm away and urged her to change her clothes. The two boys turned their backs to give her privacy, but Hermione refused to turn away from them.
She shakily tore at her filthy clothes until she was in her knickers, before donning James's sweater. His smell instantly filled her senses, which helped her to marginally calm down.
"I– I'm decent now," she stammered, cheeks turning splotchy red when she remembered how she'd fallen apart in front of perhaps the two most important men in her life right now.
Peter was beside her again and cajoling her to sit down on a handsome, maroon couch in the room.
"I'm going to get some tea," James excused and left without another glance back.
Hermione shifted more comfortably on the couch and laid her head on Peter's shoulder. Her brother was still tense but was blessedly silent. Now that she had considerably calmed down, Hermione organised her thoughts, knowing that both Peter and James wouldn't stay silent long.
James returned with the promised tea, a bleary Pokey scuttling behind him whilst holding a tray. The house-elf's eyes momentarily widened upon seeing Hermione, but James urged her to do her tasks. Pokey poured tea for both Peter and James, but her master insisted he be the one to do it for Hermione. His house-elf begrudgingly relented and scuttled towards Regulus instead. Hermione watched as Pokey procured a curious, yellow potion from the pocket of her flowy skirt and made the unconscious wizard drink its contents until it was empty.
"What did Pokey give Regulus?" Hermione asked as soon as Pokey popped away.
"A potion to help with the dark magic he's emitting," James gruffly said. "He stinks of residual dark magic. That's one of my Dad's inventions, able to slow down the side effects of whatever dark potion he's drunk. It'll be temporary though. He needs medical attention soon."
"He can't go to St. Mungo's," she firmly insisted.
James sighed and massaged his temples. "I figured as much," he said. "All the scandal and whatnot." He eyed the cup of tea in her hand and said, "Bottoms up."
She did as she was told and sipped her tea. Scrunching her nose, a peculiar taste washed over her tongue. She shot a suspicious look at James, who didn't look guilty at all. "Calming Draught, apologies," he explained. "Nothing harmful, Whiskers."
"You should have informed me first, you know," she murmured, but still took a few sips of the drugged tea, knowing she'd need it anyway. The effects of the draught were instant, as every nerve in her body was soothed serenely. A pleasant hum settled in Hermione's mind, and despite recounting the events that had transpired back in the cave, she didn't feel like she was drowning anymore.
James settled back beside Hermione, this time draping a fluffy comforter over her shoulders. With how very calm she felt right now, her eyes were already blearily closing, exhaustion completely taking over.
"Hermione," Peter said, nudging her awake, "you can't sleep yet."
A soft sigh escaped from her lips. "You won't rest until I tell you everything, will you?" she asked.
Peter's back snapped ramrod straight while James silently reached her hand under the comforter, interlacing their fingers together.
"I don't even know where to start," she glumly said. The events of the past few years raced into her mind's eye, the events of the Second Wizarding War resurfaced too, and no matter how calm her mind was, everything just became a tangled mess again. Hermione couldn't form a single thought as to how to start sharing the secret she had been hiding for seventeen years.
"Maybe you can start with this."
Peter pulled out the wooden box that housed Slytherin's locket and passed it to her. The box hummed with the various wards she'd cast and she placed it on her lap, resigned.
James, however, grabbed the box from her lap and inspected it at eye-level. He pulled out his wand and tried to undo the wards she'd placed. He managed to break through most, but the last four wards proved to be very hard for him. "It's heavily warded," he pointed out, eyebrows knitting together. "Most were complicated enough, but I've come across them before. The last ones, though… They're almost the same as my Dad's wards on his Potions lab - which I could never break. Who placed these wards?"
"Hermione did."
His hazel eyes widened in shock, gaping at the silent witch sitting beside him. "What?" he gasped. "How did you even know these spells? I know you're bloody brilliant, Hermione, but I'm sure the last few ones are quite obscure."
"Besides the wards, what it houses worries me the most," Peter murmured. He pinned a stare on Hermione. "What is it? Why did you risk your bloody life just to get this, Hermione?"
James paled at Peter's question but didn't say anything. The brunette expelled a soft sigh, knowing it was futile to come up with some elaborate lie that would keep them in the dark.
"You said you'd tell me everything, Hermione," Peter reminded with a deep frown.
Despite the Calming Draught, her eyes misted up and the words started rushing inside of her, ready to burst out of her mouth. She wanted to surrender everything, to tell them everything, because she was tired – so tired – of fighting her past and ignoring the inevitable.
Instead of answering Peter, however, Hermione pointed her wand at the wooden box still in James's hand and muttered a litany of counter curses which were tattooed in her mind. She ignored James's gasp when the wooden box effortlessly unlatched.
She then pulled the box away from the bespectacled wizard's hand and tentatively opened the lid. Dark magic from Slytherin's locket was now palpable, with ominous whispers swirling out from the glinting, emerald jewel.
"What the hell is that?" Peter asked, scrunching his nose at the suffocating dark magic.
"Slytherin's locket," James answered, recognition in his hazel eyes. His fingers lifted and he tried to touch the locket, an unseen force tempting him. But Hermione instantly latched onto his wrist, shaking whatever hold the horcrux had taken on her boyfriend.
"Don't touch it," she hissed. "Don't you ever touch it. It's magic most foul. It will be unforgiving."
Peter ran a tired hand over his face and slumped forward on his seat. "You said you're not in cahoots with Voldemort," he started. "Regulus said you're bringing the fucking Dark Lord down" — "What?!" James cried — "Please, please, please, Hermione. What does it all mean? What does this locket have to do with anything? I want to understand. I want to know why you'd willingly allowed yourself to be dragged into that Inferi-infested lake just to save Regulus, despite knowing you might not come back alive."
James had gone deathly pale, mouth hanging open at everything Peter had said.
A tear slipped down from Hermione's eyes as she slammed the lid of the box closed, obscuring the horrible locket away from their eyes. "Regulus was telling the truth," she started, "we're trying to bring Voldemort down. And this" — she lifted the box — "is a part of it all."
"A part?" James yelped. "Bring Voldemort down?"
"This locket is a horcrux," she dully continued. "Have you heard of them?"
Peter shook his head but James perked up in recognition. "I've… come across that word before," he claimed. "There's a locked section in our library that houses some of the darkest books. Mum forbids me to snoop in there, so of course I didn't listen. There was this book – Magicke Moste Evile – and I think there was section about horcruxes somewhere. I wasn't able to read it, though, because Mum immediately caught me."
Hermione was surprised such an evil book existed in the Potter Manor. But then again, as an old Pureblood with ancestors notorious for reading and collecting various kinds of books, it wasn't too farfetched. Hermione was just secretly thankful that they didn't dabble with the Dark Arts too, like the Blacks.
"It won't give you enough information about horcruxes, anyway," she murmured.
"You've read that book?" James asked with wide eyes. When Hermione gave him a withering glance, he grimaced. "Of course you did."
"What's a 'horcrux'?" Peter asked. "And why is it important in Voldemort's downfall."
"A horcrux… it's magic most foul." Hermione glanced unseeingly at the hidden horcrux on her hand and took a deep, shaky breath. "And it's important in Voldemort's downfall because… because it houses a piece of his soul and renders him immortal unless they are all destroyed."
James expelled a huge sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Of course he'd make those bloody things," he grumbled. Her boyfriend paused and blinked, before his hazel eyes grew wide in horror. "Wait. Did you just say 'they'?"
"This isn't the only one," she dryly said, weakly gesturing at the box on her lap.
"How do you know all about this?" her brother asked. He glanced at the unconscious Slytherin on James's bed and frowned. "Did Regulus tell you? Did he recruit you to join in this bloody cause?"
Hermione wryly smiled, remembering Regulus's shocked face as plain as a day, as she shook her head. "No," she simply said. "I told him about it. I'm the one who recruited him."
Both James and Peter were flummoxed by her words, eyebrows knitting together as they digested what she'd said. The Potter heir shot up from his seat and started to pace, a worried frown on his face.
"How did you know about Voldemort's downfall then? When, as Aurors, we've been trying to interrogate his staunch followers for ages just to find out what it was."
There it was. The right question to all the secrets she could reveal. All throughout her seventeen years in this world, Hermione had never once thought she'd arrive at this exact situation, wherein she'd have no other choice but to tell them everything – the potion, Hermione Granger, all the atrocities she had seen. Everything.
"Because…" she whispered, slumping forward, "because I'm not from here."
She settled on the same answer she'd told Regulus before, and the words just tumbled out from her mouth. Peter had grown quiet beside her while James ruined his carpet with his increasing pacing.
Hermione didn't dare look at their faces, afraid of what she'd see in them. Instead, she pointedly looked at the wooden box in her hand and told them about her best friend, the beacon of all light and hope, and the unending Second Wizarding War. She told them of the obscure potion he had found and how determined they had been to brew it so they could flee from their reality. She told them how her best friend died and she was the only one who successfully drank the potion. She told them that when she woke up once more, she was reborn as Hermione Pettigrew. She told them that she desperately tried to keep quiet, to keep herself away from danger, but she managed to love this world so much and all the people that came with it, and she just couldn't look away anymore.
By the time she was finished, a steady stream of tears had slipped down from her eyes. James had grown very still, too horrified at everything she had told them.
Besides her sniffles, none of them spoke.
Hermione felt like a huge weight had lifted off her shoulders. No matter if they believed her or not, she felt relieved that she didn't have to keep this secret anymore. It scared her, however, how they would react to her story, that they'd think she was barmy by associating herself with a Death Eater.
"Why—"
The brunette flinched and hesitantly looked at Peter. His face looked almost ghostly white, his eyes too wide and unnaturally glassy.
Slowly, Peter turned his head to look at her. "Why did you keep this all to yourself?" he harshly croaked, his eyes growing bright with a mixture of panic, of grief, and of disbelief. "After everything you've said— with the horcrux hunt and— I…" His face crumpled as tears sprang in his eyes. "You could have told me, Hermione. I'm your brother, damn it! I could have helped you with this dangerous mission. You should have come to me. I could have—"
His words died down as his breath hitched, turning his face away to hide his tears.
Hermione felt like she'd been slapped. "Because…" Her voice was barely above a whisper as she miserably closed her eyes. "Because, it's dangerous. And I didn't tell you because I knew you'd insist on getting involved. Hermione Granger had seen too many deaths to last all of her alternate selves a lifetime. I can't—" She swallowed down a lump lodged in her throat and swiped her tears away. "Someone important to me might die because of what I'm doing and I can't have that."
To her surprise, James suddenly collapsed on the carpeted floor just beside her knees. Hermione's eyes widened when she noted the tears in his hazel eyes, raw fear painted there. "Did you ever stop and think what would happen to us if you died?" he whispered. He reached for her hands and tightly clutched them against his chest. Honest-to-Merlin, he looked really terrified at the thought she could have lost her life by embarking on this dangerous journey with only Regulus as her companion.
Hermione gently pulled one of her hands away from his grip to brush her fingers against his wet cheek. "Better for my life than those I've grown to really care about," she murmured in return.
"No," Peter vehemently snapped, determinedly glaring at Hermione through his tears. "No. Your life is just as valuable as ours. You're barmy if you think we'd just stand aside whilst you carelessly searched for dark artifacts with Regulus Black."
"Peter—"
James suddenly sprang to his feet and resumed his pacing. "You're right," he distractedly muttered as he furiously wiped his remaining tears away. "This cannot go on like this."
"Please—"
"I think we should tell Dumbledore now," Peter said, ignoring Hermione completely. He glanced at the wall clock above James's bed. "It's three in the morning, though. I'm not sure if Dumbledore's already awake."
"He said to contact him immediately if something huge came up," James interjected. "And I don't know about you, mate, but this is bloody fucking huge."
Hermione scowled. "Will you both just shut up and listen to me?"
"No," they flatly said in unison.
"You've endangered yourself one too many times already," her brother added with a dark glare. "I'm not going to let you decide on things alone anymore."
The brunette tiredly ran a hand over her face. "Do we really have to get Dumbledore involved?" she muttered, quite uneasy at the fact that she'd be telling her deepest, darkest secrets to the very same wizard she'd been avoiding just as much as she'd been avoiding Voldemort.
"Yes," James said with a tone of finality in his voice.
"Besides," Peter added, pointing a finger at Regulus's unconscious form, "he needs immediate medical attention and Dumbledore may know someone from the Order who can help."
"Fuck, I almost forgot about Regulus Black," James groaned. "We have no choice but to tell Sirius about all of this. He's going to go ballistic, bloody hell."
"Isn't he with Remus right now?" When James nodded his head, Peter grimaced. "I think it'd only be fair if we tell Remus too," her brother said, glancing at Hermione for permission. The brunette sighed and stiffly nodded her head, knowing that the Marauders were practically joined at the hip and hiding such a colossal secret from each other would put a strain on their relationship.
Peter stood up from the couch. "I need to inform the other blokes," he said, already fishing out a copper knut from his pocket. Hermione instantly recognised it as the coin with the Protean Charm she'd gifted to them on their graduation. "I hope Sirius was able to fetch Moony from his mission already."
James nodded his head, sauntering towards his desk to grab a parchment and quill. "I'm going to inform Dumbledore," he said.
Hermione massaged her aching temples. "What can I do to help?" she asked.
"Rest for now, Whiskers," James said, abandoning his half-finished letter to stride towards Hermione. He bent down and gently pushed her onto the couch, securely tucking her underneath the fluffy comforter. "We're going to wake you up once Dumbledore's here."
"But… I– I want to do something," she weakly protested. Her lids felt heavy and she was dead tired, but Hermione felt resting after such a huge revelation wasn't appropriate.
James's face softened as he sat down on the floor beside the couch. With a deft swish of his wand, the half-finished letter flew into his awaiting hand. He gingerly held Hermione's hand, interlacing his fingers with hers, and said, "Try to sleep, Hermione. I'll be right here if you need me."
She lightly frowned, wanting to protest more, but Hermione indulged the bespectacled wizard and nodded her head. She settled comfortably on the couch and watched James finish writing the letter, his hand providing the profound comfort she terribly needed right now.
-ooo-
Her eyes fluttered open when a hand brushed against her cheek. Hermione blinked her sleepiness away and focused on James, whose soft eyes were gazing down at her. His lips opened and closed, but Hermione was still disoriented from sleep to understand what he was saying.
"What?" she asked, followed by a tremendous yawn that stretched far and wide on her weary face.
A small, fond smirk appeared on his face. "I said," he repeated, "Dumbledore's here and he wants to meet you."
The brunette sighed, knowing it would be useless to delay meeting the Headmaster. Peter came into view and urged her to get up.
Hermione glanced down at her clothes. Although still large for her frame, James's sweater only covered her body up to her mid-thigh. The sleeves kept on slipping down her shoulders, exposing the strap of her bra. She was terribly underdressed, and she was about to have the talk with the greatest wizard in the world.
Annoyed, Hermione stood up and decided to wrap the fluffy comforter around her shoulders just to give herself some semblance of decency.
James's fingers interlaced through hers, as he tugged gently so she would move faster. Peter was close to her other side, ridiculously tense and looking as though he was ready to pounce on anyone who dared touch his little sister.
Her heart hummed, knowing she was safe if these two boys were beside her. Hermione wondered if she'd been stupidly reckless for keeping them in the dark all these years, only to keep them alive.
James led them towards the Drawing Room and before they could enter, Hermione took a deep, shuddering breath to calm her nerves. The Calming Draught had long worn off and so all of her nerves were going haywire once more. Based on the tense faces of the two boys beside her, it looked as though they needed a dose of said potion too.
James pushed the doors of the drawing room open to let them in. Hermione skidded to a halt, bewildered that Dumbledore wasn't alone in the room. The Headmaster was accompanied by James's parents, already in their night robes and looking quite weary. Madame Pomfrey was surprisingly part of the group too, accompanied by Mary MacDonald, who was wearing handsome lime-green robes.
"Mary!" Peter gasped, already meeting the grinning blonde halfway. He engulfed her in a huge hug and Hermione deduced that they hadn't seen each other for quite some time. "What are you doing here?"
"I was asked to come for Order business," she explained, glancing briefly at the imposing Head of the Order. "Someone needs tending to, I assume."
She worriedly glanced at Hermione, whose comforter was still draped over her shoulders, and then at James, who was still reverently holding onto Hermione's hand. "Is everybody all right?" she nervously asked.
"I believe your patient is upstairs, Miss MacDonald," Dumbledore softly said with a kind smile.
"He's in my room," James added.
Dumbledore turned to the Mediwitch. "Please accompany Miss MacDonald, Poppy," he gently suggested.
"Of course, Headmaster," she said. "Come along then."
Mary reluctantly extricated herself out of Peter's arms and trailed behind the older witch. She placed a comforting hand on Hermione's shoulder when she passed by her, and then disappeared upstairs with Madame Pomfrey.
"Please," Dumbledore said, gesturing at the maroon chairs in the quaint drawing room. "Don't just stand there. Have a seat!"
James tugged a hesitant Hermione towards one of the couches in the room and sat her beside Euphemia. He took her other side while Peter sat on the remaining vacant armchair in the room, right beside the blazing hearth.
"Before you tell me what this emergency is about," the wise wizard started, his blue eyes curiously gazing at Hermione, "I'm afraid we're still waiting for someone to arrive."
As if on cue, the door banged open again. In came a wizard Hermione could recognise, despite his complete set of eyes and cleanly cropped hair.
Alastor Moody was terrifying, even though he was twenty years younger. Hermione clearly remembered the retired Auror on his last days during the Golden Trio's horcrux hunt, looking worse for wear with a terrible limp and a grouchy expression. This imposing Auror standing in front of her looked like a rugged Auror, with leather and chains adorning his well-built body. There were tattoos snaking around his exposed skin and battle scars from numerous encounters with dark wizards. His blue eyes, however, were still as piercing as ever and Hermione shrank at his intense gaze, feeling as if he was scrutinising everything she had ever done in her whole life.
To Hermione's surprise, both James and Peter suddenly jumped onto their feet and stood at their tallest height.
Moody sneered in their direction. "At ease, lads," he gruffly said. "We're not at the Ministry."
James and Peter exchanged hesitant looks, before settling themselves back onto their chairs.
"Alastor," Dumbledore warmly greeted, as if he was just visiting for tea. "Kind of you to join us today."
"This better be important, Dumbledore," he growled, crossing his arms against his chest as he glared at everybody in the room. "It's four o'clock in the morning, for Merlin's sake!"
"Perhaps some tea, Alastor," Euphemia cordially offered, unfazed by his sourness.
"No, thank you," Moody clipped, choosing to stand by the seat next to Dumbledore, so he could focus his stare on Hermione. "Is she the reason why we're all gathered here today?"
Hermione felt her cheeks heating up as all eyes settled on her. She lightly smiled at James's mother, who placed a comforting hand on top of her knee.
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled brightly behind his half-moon spectacles, his blue eyes steadily meeting hers. Hermione instantly felt some light probing in her mind - something you could easily miss if you weren't trained. She instantly shut all of her thoughts behind a huge wall erected in her mind, her eyebrows knitting together at the sheer concentration she needed, just to keep Dumbledore out.
"You don't need to use Legilimens on me," she lightly said, her gaze unwavering. "I'm going to tell you everything."
If it were possible, his blue eyes glinted more brightly under the cheery lights of the cosy drawing room. His eyes looked almost dangerous, calculating, and Hermione once again wondered why she and her friends had blindly agreed to do everything he said, and had accepted everything he offered, no matter how meagre it had been. She deeply respected Dumbledore, because he'd truly been a great leader and teacher to them all. But she didn't know how his brilliant mind worked. One of Severus Snape's dying words after he had been attacked by Nagini was that Harry Potter was expected to sacrifice his life in the end, because he was an unintentional horcrux. Dumbledore had known that all along, but had never told them.
So yes, she deeply respected Dumbledore, but the way he'd handled them all, like they were mere pawns in his huge chess game against Voldemort, left a bitter taste in Hermione's mouth.
"Forgive me for the intrusion," the Headmaster smoothly replied. "But we are at war, my dear. I need to know what is true and what isn't."
He sounded truly genuine and Hermione slumped forward, feeling extremely exhausted once more. "I'm not going to lie," she earnestly said. "I'm — it's tiring to keep everything in. I've already placed myself and Regulus's life in danger. I do believe it's time to tell the truth now."
"The truth about what, Miss Pettigrew?"
She met his piercing gaze once again. "About everything," she said. "About my past. About Voldemort. About his horcruxes."
At the mention of the latter, Euphemia gasped, a hand flying to her mouth. Fleamont looked deathly pale. Dumbledore's eyes widened a bit, his only indication that he was perplexed at her confession. Only Moody looked thunderous, crossing the small expanse of carpet between them to stand menacingly over Hermione.
"Where did you learn that, girl?" he gruffly said, looking like the crazed, paranoid Mad-Eye Moody Hermione Granger had grown acquainted with in the end.
James protectively threw an arm in front of Hermione, acting as a barrier between the incensed Auror and the frowning brunette.
"Alastor, please, there's no need for that," Dumbledore good-naturedly claimed. "Come sit beside me."
A vein popped in Moody's temple as he tried to steer himself away from Hermione and gruffly walked towards Dumbledore. Again, he refused to sit down and chose to stand behind the Headmaster, this time not letting his eyes stray away from Hermione at all.
"Now, Hermione," Dumbledore said. Hermione tore her gaze away from the tense wizard and glanced back at Dumbledore. The twinkling in his eyes had dimmed into a hard glint, calculatingly looking at Hermione. Thankfully, he didn't try to probe her mind again. "If I may ask, where did you learn such a thing? No girl your age should know about such dark artifacts."
"It's— you may not believe me," she deliberately started. "You might think I'm barmy."
To her surprise, Dumbledore released a low, humoured chuckle. "Believe me when I say I've seen and heard a lot of things in my life that may be unbelievable to others," he placated.
She felt James's grip on her hand tighten, a constant comfort by her side. She met Peter's eyes across from her and her brother gave the tiniest of nods, encouraging her to start.
Hermione then took a deep breath and told her tale. She didn't stop, even when she heard surprised gasps from the other occupants in the room. She didn't stop, even when Moody growled a question, clearly in disbelief at everything she was saying. Her eyes never strayed from Dumbledore's, though. His face was the perfect picture of calmness, taking in everything she was saying without even a peep to stop her storytelling. But she'd seen his eyes, how they widened marginally, darkening with each revelation she recounted.
Since this was her third time telling her story, the words flowed out from her like a raging storm, and she was only able to stop talking all together when she was gasping for breath.
By the time she was finished, silence met her story. Moody had long since plopped down beside Dumbledore on the couch, too disoriented with the things that flowed out from her mouth. Hermione could also feel how James's parents had grown very still beside her, trying to digest everything they had heard.
"If… if you need proof," Hermione slowly added after taking a few breaths, "I can surrender all of my memories to you, Headmaster sir. You can view them in your pensieve any time you like."
"Is there anything else you want to add, Miss Pettigrew?" Dumbledore asked with a piercing glance.
Hermione steadily held his gaze despite how loudly her heart thudded inside her ribcage. She had conveniently left the identity of Harry Potter out, constantly addressing him as her best friend and the Chosen One. She also left out the fact that he was James Potter's and Lily Evans's son, and that said parents of The-Boy-Who-Lived would not survive this war. Hermione still had no idea how to tell this particular fact to these people. She didn't speak about the prophecy, either. For all she knew, it might not even be prophesied by Sybill Trelawney at all in this timeline.
"No, sir," she firmly replied.
She was sure Dumbledore didn't look convinced, but Hermione refused to crack under his stare.
"Very well then," Dumbledore softly said, tightly clasping his hands on his lap, "I believe we've already found our means of defeating Voldemort."
Moody's lips twisted into a deep frown. "I'm going to speak with the Longbottoms to discuss how to gather the remaining horcruxes," he gruffly said.
"There's no need," Hermione softly quipped. "I know where all of them are."
Moody scowled at the young witch. "Of course you do," he said with a resigned sigh.
Hermione pointed the heavily warded box at the two wizards. "This one houses Salazar Slytherin's locket," she said. "I… well, retrieving this was difficult, but we managed to get it."
"Yeah, and it almost cost you your life," James angrily muttered.
She sadly glanced at him and squeezed his hand for comfort.
"I need the list of locations for the horcruxes," Moody drawled. "What they look like, where they will be hidden—"
Hermione cut him off with a deep sigh. "I told you there are five of these vile things," she said, grimacing at the hidden horcrux. "Regulus and I have already managed to gather the other three." She weakly lifted the box from her lap. "Well, now four."
Peter expelled a dark expletive under his breath while the others gasped in disbelief, their eyes widening at her words.
"And where, pray tell, are you keeping them?" Dumbledore asked, frowning for the first time. Even he looked disappointed by her actions, but Hermione couldn't care less. She already had four of Voldemort's horcruxes. That was all that mattered.
"In my trunk—"
"—in your trunk—"
"—heavily warded," Hermione ground out, throwing a reassuring glance at the deathly pale Euphemia. "I know that was stupid, but it was the safest decision I could make. Nobody got hurt. I promise."
"If you don't mind me asking again," the Headmaster asked, "how were you able to procure these horcruxes?"
Hermione grew uncomfortable once more as all eyes latched onto her. She brushed a stray curl away from her face, feeling herself heating up under their intense gaze. "Well, the first thing we procured was Ravenclaw's Diadem," she deliberately started. "It wasn't too hard to find. It was in Hogwarts, in the Room of Requirement."
"Hogwarts?" Fleamont thundered at the same time his son asked, confused, "The Room of Requirement?"
"It's a secret room," Hermione said, choosing to answer James's question. "Not too many students know about it."
"Ravenclaw's Diadem has been missing for centuries," Dumbledore pointed out.
Hermione softly snorted. "Apparently not," she said. "The next one we got was Helga Hufflepuff's Cup. It's —" She turned red, uncomfortable about confessing their breaking into Gringotts, which was practically a crime worthy of an Azkaban sentence. "You have to understand that it was the only way. No one got hurt. We've used a few Confundus spells, yes, but that was it." She cleared her throat when Dumbledore quirked an eyebrow. "I… well, I drank Polyjuice Potion to look like Bellatrix Lestrange, so that Regulus and I could access the Lestrange vault and get the horcrux."
"I'm sorry," Peter drawled, his voice strangely high pitched. "But did you just fucking say you broke into Gringotts?"
Moody's eyes had widened like saucers. "You broke into Gringotts?" he echoed. "A heavily warded establishment? I thought they had many means of removing any concealments, including Polyjuice Potion?"
"Never mind how we did it," Hermione hastily added. "At least we got the horcrux."
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled once more, this time in pure amusement. "And the last?"
"The diary's housed in the Malfoy Manor," she continued. "This time it was only Regulus who managed to get it. He's close with the Malfoys, after all. He knew the Manor like the back of his hand." She brushed another errant curl behind her ear and frowned. "So, I already have all four of them in my possession. Voldemort's very last horcrux is the Gaunt ring, hidden somewhere near his Muggle father's home. Regulus and I still hadn't made any plans on how to retrieve it yet. As for destroying the four…" She made a face. "Believe me when I say I wanted to get rid of them as soon as possible. But horcruxes are difficultto destroy. There's always Fiendfyre or basilisk venom."
"I know some Aurors who are well-versed with Fiendfyre, Dumbledore," Moody snippily said. "I can ask them to destroy them."
Hermione's eyes never strayed from Dumbledore. "I know that Fiendfyre is the most plausible choice," she continued.
"But?" Dumbledore asked, noting the hesitation on her face.
"But, there's a dormant basilisk underneath Hogwarts," she hastily said. "It will awaken in 1992 and petrify a lot of students. If I may suggest, I think it is better if we kill the basilisk before it wreaks havoc and procure the venom at the same time. It's like hitting two birds with one stone."
"A basilisk?" Fleamont gasped. "Dear me, in Hogwarts?" His widened eyes stared at Dumbledore, suddenly enraged. "And this is in your school?"
Euphemia shakily placed a hand on top of his arm to placate him.
Dumbledore aged a few centuries right before her eyes. He looked weary and distressed - she had never seen the Headmaster look like this – past nor present. Hermione felt a little ashamed. Maybe despite his manipulative ways, Dumbledore still genuinely wanted everything to go back to normal and to vanquish every evil thing in this world.
"I may have to talk with your Aurors after all, Moody," the Headmaster gravely said. "I believe her suggestion is the better choice. You have to tell them about the basilisk, but thismust be kept confidential." He threw a warning glare at Euphemia and Fleamont. "I understand the fear you feel, but Miss Pettigrew has assured us that the basilisk is dormant as of now. If we are to defeat it, the best way to do that is when the children are safely home."
Fleamont still looked terribly tense, but tilted his head in acknowledgement.
"I'll contact you immediately once I've produced a list," Moody said. "I'm going to talk with the Order members in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."
"Thank you, Alastor," the older wizard replied. His eyes then swept back to Hermione and he frowned. "As for the four horcruxes in your possession, I'm afraid you will have to surrender them to me, Miss Pettigrew."
Her shoulders slumped down in relief, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "That's fine," she said. "I want to get rid of them anyway."
Dumbledore grew contemplative, his lips thinly pursed as if he was deep in thought. "Also, I think your knowledge is too valuable," he added. "I know you still have a few months left in Hogwarts, but I'm afraid I have no choice but to officially recruit you into the Order of the Phoenix."
"Albus!" Euphemia exclaimed, a hand over her heart. "She is too young."
Hermione wryly smiled at the worried older witch. "There is no young or old in war," she whispered kindly. "Only survive or be killed."
She saw how James's and Peter's eyes widened in recognition. With everything she had revealed so far, the sudden understanding was clearly painted in their expressions, now realising the heavy implications of her words, the last time she had uttered them.
"She will not be going on any missions during her stay at Hogwarts," Dumbledore assured the worried couple. "I am still the Headmaster after all. I'd rather Miss Pettigrew focuses on her upcoming NEWTs and her remaining Head Girl duties."
Hermione softly snorted, thinking that such things shouldn't be prioritised at a time like this. Dumbledore quirked an eyebrow at her reaction, promptly making her mutter an apology under her breath.
"Well then," Dumbledore said, climbing to his feet and clasping his hands together. "This has been quite an enlightening meeting, but I believe we must take our leave. Fawkes will be reborn today and I do not want to miss it for the world. Rest assured I'll be back later today to further discuss my plans."
Hermione glanced at Dumbledore dubiously, highly convinced he was going on another top-secret mission he could not share with the others.
"Miss Pettigrew," he then said, as they too stood up from their seats to see Dumbledore out. "I have to say that I am very disappointed with how you've kept this all to yourself all of these years, managing not only to endanger your life, but also Mister Black's life."
Tears prickled in her eyes, her guilt brewing in the pit of her stomach at the mention of the unconscious Slytherin.
Dumbledore's expression softened at her tears. "But you must know that you are not alone in this fight, that you should not carry this burden alone." He expelled a soft sigh and gave her a small, gentle smile. "You have to start trusting us too, if you want to end Voldemort's tyranny."
The tears now freely slipped from Hermione's eyes and she surprised the Headmaster when she tightly gripped the sleeve of his robe. "Voldemort must die," she croaked, beseeching. "Please. Voldemort must die."
Her plea reverberated throughout the silent drawing room. Even Moody's face briefly crumpled at how desperate she sounded.
Dumbledore placed his hand on top of hers, his warmth already reassuring enough for Hermione. "I will make sure of it," he said with a resolute smile.
Hermione nodded her head in acceptance and hastily wiped her tears away.
"Now, before I forget." The old wizard rummaged inside his pocket and gave her a crumpled piece of paper. "Since you are already an official member of the Order of the Phoenix, I think it is fair if I let you know where our Headquarters is."
Hermione curiously grasped the folded parchment, not sure what to expect. Grimmauld Place had been the official Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix before, but since it was currently occupied by Sirius's family, using it this time was out of the question.
"Oh," she gasped as her eyes scanned the scrap of parchment.
The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix is in the East Tower, Potter Manor.
She glanced at James, wide-eyed, who was already sheepishly smiling at her. "I couldn't tell you at that time, Whiskers. I'm sorry," he said. "It's under the Fidelius Charm, you see."
"Well that explains why I don't see it," she said, passing the paper back to Dumbledore.
"I believe there's been enough excitement for today," Dumbledore finally said. "Fleamont, Euphemia, I'm terribly sorry for the intrusion." His eyes then warmly swept over the younger witch and wizards. "Rest for now. We will see each other soon."
Dumbledore disappeared in a flash of emerald green, with Moody closely following suit.
A/N: So, welp, they now know! I'm going to dub this chapter, and the two chapters after this, as the 'Hermione's Revelation Arc' lmao. It's going to be a very busy day for our favorite heroine lol. Also, kudos to those who've correctly guessed where the Order HQ is hahaha. I've hinted it during the Potter-Pettigrew formal dinner so I wasn't sure if y'all noticed it. The Order HQ during the First Wizarding War was unmentioned in the wikis, just so you know, so I thought it'll be wicked if it'll be in Potter Manor ahaha.
And now, WOW! It gives me legit fuzzy feelings how y'all been super excited for my updates every day huhu. Your reviews really brighten my day. Virtual hugs and kisses to you all!
See you tomorrow!
With love,
WickedlyAwesomeMe
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