Saturday, 1st October 1977
The next week passed in a blur of sleep, potions and visitors for Hermione. She slept and woke at the strangest hours and had finally moved on from soups to solid foods again. Her injuries had been healed, and she was about as healthy as could be given the circumstances.
She was still grossly underweight and unfortunately for her, had begun having extreme nightmares since Madam Pomfrey had stopped giving her dreamless sleep potions.
Peter, Remus, James, Sirius and Lily had all been stopping by between classes and before curfew - sometimes alone and sometimes together - to provide some friendly company and ask questions about their futures.
When Hermione had woken after her tell-all with Dumbledore and the others she had immediately panicked. Despite wanting to change things and not caring about her own safety, she was incredibly frightened about the safety of her friends - what if she prevented one of their births? What if someone got killed this time who had been alive in her time? It was all well and good to want to save everyone - and she really really wanted to - but 'The Brightest Witch of her Age' knew she was in way over her head.
It was Peter, of all people, who calmed her mind. On Wednesday afternoon a boy had come into the infirmary after a potions accident. He'd apparently been caught in the crossfire of someone else's mistake, and had been ranting and raving about 'dunderheads who didn't know the difference between mint and basil leaves'. Hermione hadn't even needed to see the boy to know that it was a young Severus Snape. She'd held her breath and kept perfectly still as though her life depended on it. Once Snape had left, the dam had broken and Hermione had had one of the worst panic attacks to date. It had been Peter who had visited mid-attack. He had popped his head around the curtain with a boyish grin on his face, only to swear softly and vanish again.
He'd returned a second later with some calming draught, and had sat on the bed beside her, holding her shaking hands and whispering assurances that she was okay, she was safe and alive, and there was nobody here that would hurt her. It was that last promise that had calmed her down. Peter was right. There was nobody here that would hurt her, because things hadn't gotten so bad yet. It was too late for the McKinnons - they'd been killed during the summer just gone, she learned - but the war hadn't progressed too far yet. There were still disappearances, but the Prewett twins were still alive and kicking, and an older Sirius had once told her that their deaths had been the first real hit to the Order during the first war.
She had known that she wanted to change things, and what better time to do that than now? When there wasn't open fighting or death around every corner. When she wasn't living in a cold tent, starving and waiting to be found by Death Eaters or Snatchers... Peter was right. There was nobody there to hurt her now - she could use that to her advantage.
A sweet friendship had bloomed between the two of them that day and Hermione found herself wanting to get to know him more. Who was this boy that was so different than anything she'd imagined? So not like anything she'd been told in the past? Was this the boy that betrayed his best friends, killed thirteen muggles and faked his death in the future? He didn't have a Dark Mark like she thought he would. Was there a catalyst? An event that occurred that changed his path? Something or someone that had led him, or maybe forced him to the Death Eaters - to Voldemort?
She wanted to know.
She wanted to change his future.
It was after lunch, a week after Hermione had shared her past - their future - with Dumbledore and the others. She had managed to avoid it all week, but finally they were all able to visit her together, so Hermione had no choice but to pick up where she left off and delve into the events that brought her here, to 1977.
Thankfully she was now well enough to move about, so when James playfully offered his arm she took it with a grin and let him escort her further into the infirmary where Professor Dumbledore had transfigured some empty beds into comfortable lounges.
It had only taken a few days to feel like she was right at home with the Marauders and Lily. They were far kinder than she had ever imagined, immediately welcoming her into the fold, even more so when James had realised just how close she was to his not-yet-but-one-day son. "You're basically an honorary Marauder, H. You're stuck with us now!" James had said one evening, slinging his arm around Remus' shoulder as he nodded in agreement, quickly adopting the easy nickname for her. "Hermione's a pretty name, but it's a bit of a mouthful," he'd later explained, smiling at her so kindly that she couldn't be mad.
Hermione sat herself down between James and Peter on a comfortable three-seater that looked almost exactly the same as the couch she remembered from the common room in her time. Remus conjured another piece of parchment and quill, handing them to Lily when she reached for them, quite happy to relinquish the note taking this time.
Afternoon tea was served, and Hermione leaned back into the couch as she began.
She started with Harry's move during the summer, sharing every detail she remembered. She tried to stay as emotionless as possible, knowing that just talking about it all would make the nightmares worse. Hermione went through a mental list, ticking off the topics as she finished, moving onto the next one before she could think about it too much.
The seven Potter's, Mad Eye dead, George's ear, the reading of Albus Dumbledore's will, the wedding, Scrimgeour dead - Ministry fallen, Tottenham Court Road and the cafe, 12 Grimmauld Place, their break in at the Ministry, the Muggle-born Registry led by Umbridge, the loss of Headquarters and Ron's splinching accident, camping and moving and camping and moving over and over again...
She glossed over Ron leaving them, not wanting their opinion of him to be tainted by his actions during one of the toughest times of their short lives. In the end, his leaving didn't matter - no matter how much it still hurt - and she tried to ignore the pain in her heart when she thought about never seeing him or Harry again.
Bathilda Bagshot and Nagini in the trap at Godric's Hollow, Harry's broken wand, the mysterious doe patronus that had led Harry to the Sword of Gryffindor, Ron's return, camping and moving and camping again...
When it was time to talk about the broken taboo and their capture at Malfoy Manor, Hermione stopped. She physically couldn't open her mouth. She wasn't spelled to keep it a secret, no, she just knew that if she opened her mouth she would be back in that damned drawing room, writhing under Bellatrix's wand and knife, feeling the cursed blade carving into her forearm again and again. As her eyes glazed over, James and Peter each took one of her hands and they held onto her tightly, offering a much needed anchor to the current time and place.
Lily, seeing that Hermione was close to breaking point, quietly asked if she'd prefer to release the remaining memories into a pensieve.
"Yes, please," she breathed desperately, blinking quickly as her lips quivered and silent tears overflowed. Releasing James' hand, but keeping hold of Peter's, Hermione wiped her eyes as she turned to the Headmaster, watching as he summoned his pensieve and began to position it on a small transfigured table in the centre of their gathering.
"I - I don't have a wand," she started, feeling vulnerable and embarrassed to have to ask for one to borrow. "I had a bag with me when I arrived, but I don't know what happened to it after I passed out."
Sirius and James shared a significant look, James scooting as far away from her as he could manage on the small sofa. "Well Hermione, you see - I mean, Sirius here -"
"What Prongs is trying to say, Kitten, is that we had your bag," interrupted Sirius with an innocent grin. Hermione froze, her hand clenching Peter's tight enough for him to hiss out a pained breath, although he didn't show it on his face.
"You, WHAT!?" she shouted, springing to her feet and taking a battle stance.
Sirius gulped, paling as he raised his hands in surrender and shrunk back into his seat, looking frantically between his friends who were absolutely no help at all.
Lily looked positively excited to see what would happen, the quill in her hand almost at snapping point. Remus was smirking at the scene, and Professor Dumbledore was humming lowly as he made sure the pensieve was balanced properly, although if one looked closely enough, they'd see an unmistakable twinkle in his eye. Peter just looked relieved to have his hand back unbroken.
"What do you mean, had?" Hermione continued in a furious tone, glaring at Sirius with a look that would kill if it could.
"Well, Kitten," he began only to stop when she growled, actually growled, at the stupid pet name. He cleared his throat nervously and started again. "Well, you see Hermione, you'd just shown up out of nowhere, looking like you were about to either fall over or kick all of our asses," he ignored a snort from Remus and a hiss from Hermione (her hair now crackling visibly with pent up magic) and continued more confidently, "and until we knew if you were a friend or foe we weren't going to risk leaving you with a bag full of potential weapons."
"He's right, H," said James, trying not to visibly cringe when she turned on him. "We'd have been stupid not to take it from you. We didn't know you then!"
Hermione took a deep breath, closing her eyes and reaching out to her magic to calm it before something bad happened. The others looked on with baited breath, still waiting for an explosion from the small but powerful witch in front of them.
"Sirius Black and James Potter," she hissed fiercely, "you giant twits! Of course you were right to take it from me when you didn't know who I was!" The boys mistakenly relaxed. "But how dare you keep it from me for this long, after knowing that I'm not a threat to any of you!?"
Or not.
"Good Merlin, and here I thought you were intelligent! Let me guess, you've gone through it haven't you?" she looked between their sheepish faces, noticing the small blush on Remus' cheeks, and the way Lily and Peter both looked uncomfortable and a little ashamed. "Oh my God. You've all been through it, haven't you?" she demanded to know, but not needing an answer at the looks on her new friends faces. She flushed brightly and ground her teeth, turning to look at Sirius.
"Give it over. Now."
After much shouting, quiet sorry's and Peter's not-so-quiet I told you so's directed at his friends, Hermione's belongings were overflowing from the ten boxes now stuffed under her temporary bed, along with a shrunken magical tent and a broomstick that hadn't been invented yet. The small bag that had held the contents was clutched in her hands as she waved one of the stolen Snatcher's wands over it, trying to repair and reinforce the material so that it could survive the application of another undetectable extension charm.
While she did this, the Marauders, Lily and the Headmaster were all in the pensieve, witnessing her worst memories. She had no desire to relive them, and prayed to every God that ever existed: please don't let them think less of me.
Their reactions when they came out of the pensieve were almost exactly what she had expected. Lily was crying and shaking, clutching at a pale James who looked totally shell shocked and quite frankly, sick. Peter turned straight to her and gathered her into a surprisingly strong hug, shaking slightly and breathing fast. Remus threw up - that one surprised her actually, though she wasn't sure why. Sirius had the most intense response, turning his wand on the cabinet behind them and blasting it into tiny splinters. Professor Dumbledore didn't scold him, just repaired what he could and vanished the rest, gently disarming Sirius before he could damage anything else.
Hermione said nothing, just shifted out of Peter's hug and leaned back on the lounge, drawing her knees up to her chest as she watched Sirius warily. She'd known he would react badly, seeing what his own cousin did to her. She assumed Peter's reaction had been just as much about her torture as it was seeing his future self in her memory - an old snivelling servant who looked more rat than man. James and Lily would have seen their only son, fighting for his life, forced to carry the burden of surviving a killing curse as an infant. And Remus, poor guy, had seen himself aged and tired, fighting alongside a woman who was much younger than himself and was clearly his wife. It was a shock to all of them, in many different ways.
After handing Hermione Sirius' wand for safe-keeping, a pale Professor Dumbledore simply thanked her quietly and then swept hastily from the room, the twinkle in his eyes - gone.