A/N: It's been too long, hasn't it?
I hope you like this chapter. Teehee.
xx-Kitten.
All I Remember
By Kittenshift17
CHAPTER NINE
Thursday, 15th November, 1979 – 1:57PM
Diagon Alley, London
The week passed slowly for Hermione, despite the flurry of working in the bookshop and settling herself into this new time. In many ways it was alarmingly easy to slip into the comfort of not constantly fearing an attack on her person, but in others it was downright difficult. She could hardly stand the sound of the doorbell in the shop, announcing someone new entering every time it rang. Indeed, the first day she'd worked, she'd silenced the silly thing.
It had backfired when not having it to announce the entrance of new customers resulted in her pulling her wand on more than one unsuspecting customer who 'snuck up on her'. That had been embarrassing. She'd done little other than work, if she was being honest. She worked in the shop, selling books, placing orders for new ones, drafting the proposal for an after-hours book service to give to Mr Blott and generally picking up on the gossip of the day.
At night she trained against the practice dummies in her flat and she baked enough biscuits and cakes and things to feed a small army. She attempted to recuperate some of the effects of the war upon her person, trying to make herself look less like a half-starved, sleep-deprived shell and more like a vivacious young witch in a new job. The urge to stroll down the Alley every day to see Remus was strong, but Hermione had resisted. She didn't want to come off as needy or as being obsessed with him, no matter that she was.
"Granger?" Mr Blott asked of her when the lunch rush for Thursday died off.
"Yes, Mr Blott?" Hermione asked of her boss, smiling at the wizard carefully. He'd been out of sorts all day and she suspected things on the front of his marriage and impending divorce were not going well.
"Do us a favour, yeah? Run down to the apothecary and grab some head-ache potions, could you? And some hang-over cures, if they have them?" he asked, clutching at his head as though it pained him.
"Of course, sir," Hermione smiled.
"It's time for your lunch break anyway, so take your time, love. Just bring those back with you, when you come. Take some money from the register to buy them."
Hermione nodded, watching him fish a few Galleons from the cash register and hand them over. She accepted them willingly enough, pleased that she would be able to get some lunch and that the trip would ensure she could purchase some of the herbs and ingredients she needed to begin some of her own brewing projects. She'd been meaning to duck down there but kept forgetting or being distracted by things in the bookshop.
Fetching her coat from the hook in the back, Hermione pulled it on, wrapping her scarf around her neck before exiting the bookshop and hurrying down the street. She was in the mood for a nice warm pasty, so she stopped at the bakery and then the coffee shop, ordering a pumpkin pasty and a hot chocolate. Again, she fought the urge to buy one for Remus when the idea popped into her head. She ate her food as she wandered the alley, marvelling at the life and the character of it all in this time compared to the deserted stores and empty streets she recalled of her own time.
The people were a little suspicious, occasionally, and Aurors patrolled inconspicuously.
"Going somewhere, treasure?" a voice asked as she was strolling past Madam Malkin's. The feel of someone's arm being flung casually around her shoulders brought the faintest hint of a grin to her lips and Sirius Black winced slightly at the feel of her wand tip poking him in the ribs.
"You really do have very sharp reflexes," he complimented, glancing down at the wand.
"And yet you continue to sneak up on me," Hermione smiled, turning her head to look at him.
"I hate to see a pretty witch traversing the alley alone, love," Sirius smirked cockily.
"Your bosses still have you watching me because they think I'm dodgy, huh?" Hermione grinned. This wasn't the first time since their weekend drinking session that she'd encountered Sirius in the alley. Indeed, he seemed almost to go out of his way at times, in order to speak to her. Hermine couldn't say she minded, given that she'd had little chance or inclination to make any other friends since her arrival.
"It's that haunted look in your eyes and the way you're always scanning your surroundings for danger," Sirius told her, steering her toward a nearby pretzel stall that had been set up in the alley by a street-stall vendor. He bought them one each, apparently intending to have a chat with her. Hermione smirked softly to herself. She'd found that before Azkaban had so tainted his life, Sirius Black was young, effervescent, sarcastic and exceedingly charismatic. She understood completely why witches the world over swooned for him and why they all longed to be the girl on his arm.
She also knew exactly why he'd latched onto her so easily, beyond the fact that she'd rejected him in favour of fancying Remus. He seemed to have decided that any witch interested in one of his best friends enough to ignore his charms must surely be someone decent. He also seemed to be confirming that she wasn't a psychopath intent on harming Remus. Hermione didn't mind. The bite Remus had left on her shoulder so long ago, before the war had ended in her time, had linked to her others bearing his bite as members of his pack, she suspected. She got the feeling that all four Marauders had been so comfortable with her over the weekend, despite having only technically met that very day, as a result of the pack-bond between all of them.
"I don't look haunted," Hermione protested, pretending to be ignorant of her ragged appearance.
"You do, treasure," Sirius assured her. "Like a kid who's spent too many nights on the lookout for a wild backhand coming his way. I know the look, love, and you've got it. You're on edge whenever you're in public and those quick reflexes of yours tell a tale, all their own. Knowing what I know about certain parts of your anatomy, I'd reckon you're right to be wary, but it makes you look dodgy."
"And you've come to quiz me some more on my background?" Hermione asked.
"Nah, came to warn you, actually," Sirius said, handing her a pretzel before he took her hot chocolate out of her hands, drinking out of the cup without thinking about it.
Hermione smirked, recognizing what he'd just done, even if he didn't. She'd been thinking about how comfortable the Marauders had seemed with her at the pub and at her flat, and she'd realised that the night Remus had bitten her shoulder in the time she'd travelled back from, he'd marked her as pack. Not with any intention of doing so, she suspected, but he'd done it just the same. As such, all four boys were strangely at ease in her presence.
Sirius paused when she watched him tip the cup to his lips a second time before he glanced at it, frowning a little. It was obvious that he was shocked that he'd just done something so personal and so rude as to take her drink from her and drink out of it without so much as wiping the top or seeking permission.
"Oh," he said, seeming surprised by his own actions. "Sorry about that. You probably think I'm a right barbarian."
"I don't mind sharing," Hermione smiled gently. "But the next one's on you."
"Done," Sirius smirked, drinking more of her hot chocolate before handing it back to her. "Now listen, about my warning. Prongs told Lily last night about how he slept in your bed and felt you up in his sleep, and she might be on a warpath to warn you away from her man."
"Delightful," Hermione grinned. "Should I expect shouting and fireworks, or just a 'stay away from my man' type of chat?"
"With Evans, you never can tell. Knowing Prongs, he'll have made it sound ten times worse than it actually was and she probably thinks you tried to steal James and that you threw yourself at him because the git won't have thought to mention that you fancy Moony, so she might threaten, she might hex, or she might just go straight to trying to rip your hair out. Anyway, she knows you work at the bookshop because James told her we stayed in your flat above it and just watch yourself, yeah?"
Hermione grinned to herself, rather pleased at the idea of meeting Lily Evans for the first time. More than once in the time she'd left, she recalled Remus muttering about how Harry had inherited Lily's quick temper and the idea of seeing those same eyes Harry had been born with only thrilled her all the more. She'd been positively aching to see her best friend since she'd used the time-turner and though it wouldn't be exactly the same, she rather looked forward to meeting Lily.
"Excellent," Hermione purred, a spring in her step as they continued to wander the alley.
"You're not terrified?" Sirius asked, raising one eyebrow. "If Lily thinks you tried to steal Prongs, she'll likely hex you, treasure. She's territorial, that one."
"Aren't we all?" Hermione grinned. "I'm looking forward to it."
"Oi, if there's to be a catfight, I insist on being present," Sirius said. "A little girl-on-girl is therapeutic, in my opinion."
"Funny, I thought you were a fan of guy-on-guy," Hermione quipped.
Sirius stopped in his tracks, his eyes darting down to her face and his eyebrows lifting when she smiled innocently at him.
"You're trouble, Granger," he informed her. "One snog, witch. It was one bloody snog years ago and it got out of hand. That's it. Why does no one want to let me live it down?"
"Because you're such a womanizer," Hermione told him. "All the pretty witches who've revolved through your bed want to think that you must secretly be hot for James because otherwise they surely would've captured your heart when they spread their legs."
Sirius smirked, a low whistle leaving him.
"Smart one, aren't you?" he grinned. "And I hear you've a date with Moony tomorrow night, eh? Doing anything exciting?"
Hermione smiled gently.
"That will depend on Remus and whether or not he shows up," Hermione replied.
"You doubt his word?" Sirius asked, glancing down at her with one eyebrow quirked, completely ignoring the number of witches shooting Hermione dirty looks, obviously thinking he was with her.
Hermione ignored them all too, in the sense of pretending they weren't there whilst keeping a wary eye on all of them for a stray hex in the back. She didn't like to think about how she might react should a duel be instigated by one of them, given that she'd taught herself to fling nasty, incapacitating hexes and the odd Killing Curse thanks to a childhood of war.
"I'll believe it when I see it, let's put it that way," Hermione sighed. "I know Remus has a penchant for shagging witches over dating them – much like you, in fact – and I told him that if he wants to get into my knickers, he'd have to set aside his terror of dating anyone who might get close enough to figure out his secrets. If he turns up, excellent. If not, well, I guess there's always next week."
"You'd forgive him for standing you up?" Sirius asked, looking surprised. "Most of the witches he agrees to date usually spread their legs soon enough and then he's out of there."
Hermione shrugged her shoulders, her eyes travelling over the sight of a witch and wizard who'd just stepped into the alley through the gaping maw of a stairwell that led down to the depths of Knockturn Alley. They looked like they were trying too hard to blend in and Hermione knew Sirius had spotted them, too, the minute she went tense, his gaze following hers.
His arm slipped from around her shoulders and his wand was in his hand though he continued to talk to her, obviously learning a thing or two in his Auror training about blending in better.
"I'm not saying I wouldn't be put out with him," Hermione said, as though they weren't both eyeing these shifty strangers like bombs about to explode. "But I am saying that I'm only too aware that offering a wolf fresh meat is no way to go about luring him to your side and keeping him there."
Sirius's eyes jerked from the potential Death Eaters down to her face at her reference to Remus as a wolf.
"If you want to lure a wolf," she went on, carefully shepherding a mother with three young children into a nearby store, the witch not even asking why she was being gestured back inside when she spied Hermione's expression and Sirius's MLE badge. "You don't throw out fresh meat. He'll take the easy meal and be on his way in search of more prey. To lure the wolf, you offer him your hand and you acclimatise him to your presence until he dares to wander close, curiosity getting the best of him."
Sirius was thoroughly distracted, and he almost missed it when the Death Eaters – whom Hermione suddenly recognised as a young Rabastan Lestrange and a young Alecto Carrow – suddenly began converging on a witch wandering down the alley.
The first Stunning spell left Hermione's wand silently, streaking down the alley and narrowly missing Lestrange. His head jerked up, away from the witch Alecto had gone after, his eyes narrowed, seeking the source of the spell. Hermione lobbed another one, but the man got off a Bombarda curse in the middle of the alley just before it connected with him. Hermione was already running down the alley toward him when the screaming started. Hurling more hexes, she dived around a wizard who fled for the cover of the nearest shop.
She had to get to the witch, not recognising the woman, but doubting her life would end happily should Carrow capture her. She hit Lestrange with another Stunner when she reached the spot where he'd sprawled, leaping over him and racing for Carrow.
The witch saw her coming, her eyes widening in obvious shock as Hermione began hexing her. The duel that sprung up between them lit the alley, bursts of magic bouncing off the walls and buildings while Carrow screeched in frustration when her target ran for cover. Hermione moved with the witch, hurrying after her, catching a Slicing hex across her upper arm from Carrow before returning fire with a Stinging jinx of her own. Carrow shrieked when it slipped past her shield charm before she spied the Aurors converging on her, having already detained Lestrange.
She turned on the spot and Disapparated. Hermione was already muttering healing charms as she dashed after the witch Carrow had been after.
"What's your name?" she demanded of the woman when she found her cowering behind an overturned herb cart.
"Esmerelda Bones," the woman gasped, pointing her wand at Hermione and looking terrified.
"Of course, it is," Hermione muttered. "Listen Ms Bones, do you know Albus Dumbledore?"
The woman nodded.
"Good. I want you to go to him and I want you to tell him that you were targeted by Death Eaters today. I want you to ask him to help hide your family. You've done something to capture their attention, I'm afraid, and they won't rest until your whole family is dead, do you understand?"
The witch's mouth opened and closed dumbly, her eyes wide.
"Who are you?" Bones whispered.
"I'm a friend," Hermione whispered. "One who'd very much like to see you live out the coming year; seek out Dumbledore. Be careful who you trust, but trust him."
Before the Aurors could converge on her, Hermione hurried away once more, keeping her eyes peeled for anyone who might've been watching or might've seen her chase Esmerelda. Everyone was too busy watching Lestrange be arrested while Ministry workers began arriving, checking over the Alley for anyone who'd been injured and trying to control the situation. Sirius was in the thick of it, having remanded Lestrange into MLE custody himself.
Hermione caught him scanning the area, trying to figure out where she'd gone but she hurried away, not wanting to be questioned on her actions or associated with the crime that had just taken place. The less attention she drew to herself whilst still managing to save lives, the better.
Instead of lingering, Hermione hurried up the alley in the direction of the Apothecary, noticing that most people were now peering out of shops, trying to see what was going on. When she entered, the store seemed empty and Hermione wondered if they'd managed to hire a shop-person or a brewer yet. The little bell above the door tinkled as she made her way inside and Hermione picked up a basket, knowing she was going to need it.
The shelves of the dusty store were lined with jars of potion ingredients, ranging from things as common as mint, to things as rare as Acromantula venom. No one hurried out to offer her assistance, making Hermione wonder if the store was supposed to be closed, but she chose to gather those ingredients she needed, placing them all in her basket as she went. She'd been consulting her textbooks – those form the future – regarding a number of potions ranging from Pain potions and other healing aids, to the things she might need if she were to attempt Wolfsbane for Remus.
Not that she believed he'd be willing to take it when he didn't actually know, yet, that she knew he was a werewolf. If she was being honest, she was terrified over the idea of having him over for their date. She suspected he would stand her up at the last minute, not trusting himself not to give away his condition and not willing to risk the type of relationship forming that might challenge his ideals about how he was a monster and how he might infect, harm or otherwise draw ostracization upon whichever witch he might date.
She was preparing herself mentally for the rejection she expected she would feel if he stood her up, but she was also extremely hopeful that she might manage to lure him into at least one date. After all, one date might be enough to convince her into bed with him and she suspected, with the moon waxing once more, that Remus might give it a shot at the very least. She'd made no secret of her attraction to him; that was certain.
Just as she was perusing the ingredients in the front window of the shop, a flash of vibrant red from the street outside drew her eyes and Hermione's eyes widened when she spied a girl who simply had to be Lily Evans. She stomped down the street looking like she was on a warpath, in fact, and Hermione got the feeling the witch might be looking for her, having perhaps spoken to Mr Blott to get an idea of where she might be.
Hermione glanced down at herself for a moment, suddenly self-conscious. The witch was beautiful, Hermione realised; far more beautiful than she was herself. Wincing when she spotted the rip in her sleeve and the stain of fresh blood, crimson against the fabric, Hermione realised she was not currently in the right frame of mind to be shouted at, hexed, or threatened by an unknowingly pregnant Lily Evans. And even if the woman didn't know it herself, she was pregnant, Hermione was certain.
"Shit," she muttered, hurrying toward the back of the shop when Lily climbed the steps. In her haste, Hermione rounded the counter and ducked into the back room – a brewing station - paying little mind to the wizard standing over the bubbling cauldron there.
She ducked behind the wizard, in fact, only thinking of him in the sense of using him as a shield should Evans follow her into the back room.
"What do you think you are doing?" an alarmingly familiar voice asked her as she set down her basket behind the workbench and ducked behind him. Or tried to.
He spun on her, wand drawn, aiming it at her.
"Snape?" Hermione asked, her eyes widening as her gaze jerked from the doorway where a bell had sounded in the main room, to collide with a pair of suspicious onyx eyes.
"Hello?" Lily called from the main room. "Is there anyone here?"
Snape's lip curled, and his eyes widened even as his sallow face paled. Hermione pulled out her own wand, surreptitiously pointing it at the man, suspecting that by this point in time he was probably very much a marked and active Death Eater.
"Evans?" he breathed, his eyes wide.
"I'm hiding from her," Hermione confessed in a whisper. "Don't let her back here, yeah? She's going to start a fight with me."
"What did you do to her?" Snape asked, his eyes sliding back down to meet hers in confusion and suspicion.
Hermione smirked at him. "She thinks I slept with her boyfriend."
Snape actually recoiled in disgust over the very idea.
"Hello, Miss?" a friendly sounding voice came from beyond the brewing station. "Is there anything I can do for you?"
"Was there a girl with curly hair in here just now?" Evans asked.
"Not to my knowledge, dear. Let me just check in the back with our brewer," the voice said, and Hermione squeaked when Snape suddenly lowered his wand, seized her shoulders and forced her down to squat on the floor behind his work bench.
"Ah, Severus, there you are," the voice said. "Haven't seen a girl with curly hair, have you?"
Snape didn't actually speak, just made like he'd been brooding over his cauldron.
"Severus?" she heard Lily say from the front room. Hermione watched Snape stiffen beside her at the sound of her saying his name.
"No one's been back here," Snape sneered coldly. "And even if they had been, it's hardly our trade to pass on such information. If the witch in the front room seeks a potion for some ailment, we may assist her. All other matters are her own."
Hermione shivered at the icy tone in his voice, usually reserved only for when he spoke to Harry, in Hermione's experience. She'd forgotten how cold he could truly be, and she was grateful that his current fury with Evans, in addition to his doubtless curiosity about Hermione herself, meant he was willing to lie for her.
Hermione heard what sounded suspiciously like a sniff of disdain from the front room, Lily having apparently overheard Snape. While the shop-lady went back to dealing with Lily, Hermione stood slowly, peeking into the cauldron Snape was brewing over.
"Calming Draught?" she guessed based on his ingredients and the sheen on the potion.
Snape glared at her.
"You shagged Potter? You? He tossed her off for you?" he sneered. Hermione suspected he knew how offensive he was being but didn't care.
"Don't be ridiculous," Hermione rolled her eyes. Picking up the silver knife he'd been using and swiftly dicing the lemongrass he needed for the next step of the potion if he wanted to avoid botching it thanks to the distraction she made. "I said she thinks I shagged James. I didn't actually. He just slept in my bed when that lot camped at my flat the other night after we'd all had a few too many drinks."
Snape curled his lip, looking beyond furious when she began adding the diced lemongrass, using the glass stirring rod to stir it in, counter-clockwise stirring on every seventh turn, the way he'd once taught her in Potions. He narrowed his eyes on her coldly before snatching the stirring rod.
"What do you think you're doing?" he demanded. "You let the likes of Potter into your bed? Who the bloody hell are you, anyway? I wasn't aware those bastards had any other female friends barring those revolving through Black's bed."
"Oh," Hermione smiled, pretending she'd forgotten her manners. "I'm Hermione."
She offered her hand to him to shake, almost laughing at the way he eyed it like she might've just tried to hand him a dead fish. He didn't shake her hand, choosing to eye her coldly instead and Hermione smirked all the more, amused by him.
"I remember you from Hogwarts," she went on. "Thanks for hiding me. I know she used to… ah… be a friend of yours."
"You weren't at Hogwarts with me," he said, sounding absolutely positive in the most arrogant way that only Severus Snape seemed able.
"I was," Hermione assured him. "The year ahead of you lot. Gryffindor. I kept my head down, though. You wouldn't remember me."
He narrowed his eyes on her. Hermione wondered if he would let it go.
"Actually, while I'm here, I could use your expertise," she said. "I'm brewing a small project potion at home and I need a stabiliser for a potion that uses Tentacular leaves. Obviously, alcohol is out, and I was torn between using a diffusion of monkshood, or a tisane of dittany and mandrake leaves."
Hermione would never be able to fully express her pleasure over the way Severus Snape actually blinked at her, for once seeming utterly shocked by something she'd said.
"Why ask me?" he frowned.
"Aren't you the brewer for this Apothecary?" Hermione smiled. "Seems an odd place to brew if you're not."
"Who are you?" he demanded, training his wand on her once more and Hermione sighed.
"I already introduced myself, Snape. Try to curb your suspicious nature for a few minutes to dispense potioneering expertise, would you? I know you know which would be better. I was leaning toward the tisane, but the potion also calls for bubotuber pus and I rather think it might bind to the dittany a little too well, turning it to glop. But using the monkshood base has the potential to explode in my face unless the dosage is exact and as I've no recipe to follow given it's an experiment, I'd rather not risk my eyebrows."
"You're a babbler," he informed her coldly after a moment of staring and Hermione smiled slowly, surprised he hadn't told her to shove it and thrown her out of his lab.
"I know," Hermione nodded. "Do you have a suggestion for the potion, or not?"
"Why would I help you?" he wanted to know.
"Out of the goodness of your heart. And because it's a Potion intended to punish James Potter for tattling on me to his girlfriend without clarifying that I didn't bloody shag him."
His lips twitched like he might smile.
"What's the purpose of the potion?"
"To make his junk shrivel like a geriatric's until he learns to be more specific when tattling on me to Evans, to prevent her from hexing me over something I didn't do," Hermione smirked.
"With Tentactular leaves?" he frowned. "Shrivel fig would be more effective."
"That would cause permanent damage," Hermione sighed. "This is supposed to be temporary. I'd hate to needlessly punish Lily, too."
Snape eyed her for a long moment in silence.
"You're asking the wrong person. I'd gleefully poison that tosser," he confessed.
Hermione sighed. "Yeah, I was afraid of that," she said. "Well, it sounds like Evans is gone, anyway. So… thanks for hiding me, I guess."
He didn't say anything before adding more ingredients to his potion, eyeing her over the rim of it like maybe she was some strange rune he'd come across and was trying to decipher. Hermione smiled slowly at him for a long moment, unable to keep from smirking over his younger appearance.
Prior to the war and twenty years of teaching stress, he was still ugly as sin, but there was a certain sparkle in his eyes that amused her. In the time she'd known him, he'd seemed dead inside but for the glee he derived from taunting Gryffindor students and making people feel stupid. This version of him still had life and a vindictive streak a mile long, she'd bet.
"You're very interesting, Severus Snape," Hermione informed him as she picked up her basket once more. "I mean it, thanks for hiding me rather than throwing me out of here."
He narrowed his eyes on her as she made for the door. Just before she could leave, she heard his low, sinful voice.
"A tincture of hellebore and bergamot would stabilise the potion as long as you avoid using mugwort," he said quietly, watching her from behind those twin curtains of dark hair.
"Of course!" Hermione exclaimed, her eyes lighting up at the suggestion. She didn't know why she hadn't thought of it herself. "Thank you."
"Mhmm," he hummed, smirking wickedly at her for a moment before looking away, back at his potion. Hermione got the feeling that the wizard might be more than a little wicked right now, but the man she knew he could one day prove to be was in there.
As she paid for her items in the front room, Hermione found herself eyeing the door to the lab speculatively, thinking that she might just have to see what she could do about ensuring he never overheard the Prophecy to unwittingly sell out James and Lily. She might have to see what she could do about his being a Death Eater, too.
