A/N: General call: guyz, I need a Beta. So if any of you are qualified, able and have time to spare, please PM me straight away, I'd be eternally grateful! :D xD Thank you!
To reviewer jmullinax: this is neither and both There are going to be a LOT of pairings in this fic, since I plan on making it long. I mean long. Like at least 70 chapters, probably more. Hermione will be with Sirius, will also be with Remus at one point, and a few others besides whom I shall not reveal just yet She will have a definite pairing towards the end, but I'm not saying who that is either but thank you for asking though!
To reviewerJuliaLestrange: Thank you! for her wand, answered here! And the rest of your questions shall be answered in later chapters! It's another month till the start of the school year in Hogwarts thus far, so she won't be sorted for another while! and, your english is fine, don't worry about it, I'm half French and half Japanese meself and I can speak English perfectly, you only have to practice and you'll be speaking english like it was your first language in no time!
To reviewerAbanko: I got this idea while reading A Darkly Slanted Mirror, by EAnnajeRETURNS! It's an amazingly written story really, I absolutely loved it! And I'm currently reading the sequel, A Thinly Drawn Veil, which is still in writing! Then I read The Last Marauder, by Resa Aureus, which inspired me a little for Sirius and Hermione's relationship, as well as Remus' and Hermione's, and a few things besides. It's also amazing! And in general, the fanfic The Marriage Stone by Josephine Darcy, which, as far as I'm concerned, is one of the best written fanfics EVER, was the first fanfic to really inspire me to write Harry Potter fanfiction. Josephine Darcy is (was) an amazingly talented writer, and every word and chapter I write seeks to reach her level of talent. Unfortunately, it's also unfinished, and has been for nearly five years if I remember correctly. So yes, if you want an idea of how I came to write this, go and read those three lol, and if you leave reviews tell them to go check THIS story out, I'd be forever grateful! xD x)
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the characters from it. These were created by our Queen, JK Rowling, may the magical adventure she embarked us on remain in the heart of humanity forever 3 I own only the situations they find themselves in and the conversations they have.
~Tenshi
Chapter 4
"So, this is the Prefects' bathroom, uh? It's..."
"I know; it's massive."
"That's a euphemism, Sirius."
Hermione and Sirius were standing in the afore mentioned bathroom, Hermione staring in unmasked wonder at the king sized tub and twenty or so different taps, Sirius looking amused at her starry-eyed display, chuckling under his breath as the girl walked around trailing her fingers on everything. He watched, one corner of his mouth twitching, leaning against the wall near the statue of Boris the Bewildered, his arms crossed against his chest as was his habit. He knew what she was feeling; he had been in her place in his third year when the Marauders had broken into the Prefects' bathroom after bribing the little brother of a fifth year Prefect for the password. He had looked at everything the same way she was doing now, overwhelmed by the luxury and size of the place. Now he was used to it. He had used the place many times ever since then, every time having to bribe another sibling of a Prefect and dreaming of the day when, they all knew it, James would be named Head Boy. The only downturn to the fact that he had indeed become Head Boy, was that the Head Girl was someone that he, Moony and Wormtail dreaded about as much as Prongs drooled after her: Lily Evans.
The girl was a rule-minion. She followed the school rules by the letter and had, many times before, caught them in the middle of a prank or another and ruined their plans by getting right in the middle of them. She was a terror, though Prongs was absolutely oblivious to the fact that the Gryffindor Princess hated all four of them with her a passion. Except perhaps Peter. The cruel bitch seemed to have a definite soft spot for the smallest, most shy of the four Marauders.
Sneering to himself, Sirius looked up only to realize that Hermione was staring at him with a strange look on her face, halfway between embarrassment, thoughtfulness and unease. Eyes meeting, she bit her lip, wringing her hands together nervously. He raised an eyebrow inquiringly.
"Yes?"
"Hum..."
Sirius kept quiet. He was certainly not going to help her on this one.
"You know...up there...did I - do something - like - something - huh..." She shook her head, burying her face in her hands. She peaked out between her fingers, only to find Sirius looking at her with a smirk. She groaned. "Pads, this is so not funny!"
The dark haired boy laughed outright at that. "Oh yes it is, Stell, you have no idea!"
She stomped her foot, causing him to laugh louder. "Oh come on! I bet you know what I'm trying to ask and you're just pulling my leg!"
"I sure do! But I want you to say it, love." He winked at her. "Ain't gonna kill ya to speak dirty for once in your life now is it?"
Hermione rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. "And who said I don't speak dirty all day long when you're not there?"
"Love, even if you did, you'd have no memory of it," he pointed out in a matter-of-fact tone.
She huffed. "Doesn't mean I don't do it."
"Doesn't mean you do, either. And, you don't exactly look like the kind to talk dirty all day, love."
"And what are you basing that observation on?"
"The fact that you talk like a bloody teacher, for one."
"That's your only good point to say that I don't talk dirty all day?"
Sirius shrugged carelessly and said, "It's enough proof for me."
Raising an eyebrow and fighting a smirk, Hermione taunted, "Really? Because of course, teachers have no life besides the fact that they teach immature kids like you, what, nine hours a day? What do you think they do the rest of time, join the nuns? BUT, if I really do talk like a 'bloody teacher', would you be all right with me asking that question again?"
"Go ahead," was his answer, just as he wondered what the hell a 'nuns' was.
"In that case, why were you, James and Remus, rock hard for a chick that you'd only known the name of less than an hour before? And," she added, raising a finger to interrupt what he'd been about to say, "why exactly did you look like three virgins that could do nothing but stare at me when I woke up?"
Barking an appreciative laugh, Sirius smirked and said, "So, you noticed, uh?"
"It was hard to miss it," she said sarcastically. "James was shoved into my back, you...were pretty obvious, and I was getting waves of it from Remus, so-"
"You were 'getting waves of it from Remus'?" Sirius repeated with an eyebrow arched. "And I was 'pretty obvious'? What's that supposed to mean?" The black haired teenager looked comically offended.
"Yes, Sirius, you were obvious. Meaning you really weren't making any effort to physically hide that you were hard." She rolled her eyes. "As for Remus...it was through our link. I was getting massive backfires of lust and need." She grimaced uneasily. "I was getting the feeling that he wanted nothing more than to jump me in that moment."
Having only registered one of the things she had said, Sirius pouted. "I was not being obvious!"
"You were, believe me. My face was level, Pads. I know what I'm talking about."
Sirius cocked his head and purred, "So you were looking, uh? Did you like what you were seeing, Stell?"
"Sirius, would you just answer the bloody question!"
"Nope. You'll have to ask Moony. Honestly," he argued when she started to say something, "it's between you and him. Myself and Prongs were just innocent bystanders who became victims."
"I'm having difficulties picturing you as a victim, Padfoot. Much less as 'innocent'. But I'll add this to the list of things you've told me to ask him when I asked you."
"You have a list for that?"
"Well, I've already got 'What happened in the Shrieking Shack for Remus to run away?', now this, and I don't know why, but I just have this feeling that this list is only going to get longer. Which is why I think I'm going to need to write them down before the list gets any longer, otherwise I'll end up forgetting half of them and I'll never get my answers."
"You're definitely something, Hermione No-Last-Name!"
"I'll take that as a compliment, Sirius Orion Black," she mocked, bowing exaggeratedly. "Now if you would please leave the room, I'd like to take my bath alone, if you don't mind too much."
"You sure you don't want me to stay for that 'Mione?" Sirius said, bottom lip protruding and puppy eyes showing.
Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "No Sirius, I think I'll manage on my own, thank you very much! Now get out before I take my wand out and hex you out!"
Sirius raised an eyebrow, the taunt on his face fading. "You have your wand?"
She froze. "Hum... I think I just said that on an impulse... Because, no, I don't have my wand. I checked," she added. "Even if I had it when I appeared in the Shack, it would have broken when I phased."
Hermione was surprised with the feeling of longing and the itch in her fingers now that she had admitted to not having a wand. It was like her fingers were used to its shape and were eager for it again, though she herself could not remember ever even having a wand. Another indication that she had, in fact, been a wizard, before being a werewolf. Another indication that her wand had been a daily utensil to her time. Perhaps even a tool that had defended her and killed on her order.
"Sirius," she said, forcing a smile, "mind leaving now?"
She forced a wink at him, but the look that was now on his face told her that he was unconvinced by her sudden show of mirth. She kept it up nonetheless. She needed to be alone. She had things to think about, theories to ponder. No matter how much she feared solitude, she needed time to think this situation out.
Sirius complacently left, and Hermione turned to the gigantic tub slowly. She began undressing, dropping every piece of clothing, the clothes that Remus had transfigured for her earlier, on the floor in an undignified heap. Then, she turned on the many taps of the tub, taking her time, revelling in the flowing warmth that the water wafted through the air. When that was done, and the tub was beginning to fill up, she stood in front of the full length mirror against the wall, watching herself with a critical eye. Slowly, she raised a hand and touched her lower arm, letting her fingertips graze the skin there, holding her breath. She seemed to be expecting something to happen as she touched the skin, watching intently.
But nothing happened.
A first sob escaped her. Then another. And another. Soon enough she broke down crying, curling up on the ground, first balancing on the sole of her feet and burying her face in her arms, then finally losing her precarious balance, pulling her knees against her chest, and again burying her face in her arms. She'd seen the scars that should've been there. They were what she'd seen earlier; a woman dressed in black, a mound of black hair atop her head, bent over her with a knife, carving the word 'Mudblood' into her skin, her cackling laugh ringing around the wide ballroom as Hermione herself screamed in pain and horror. She remembered herself hoping for someone to come, someone she knew was near, also held captive. She was being tortured. Yet the scars were not there. There was nothing there but plain skin. The vision that so resembled a memory had been nothing but her imagination.
She was mad, wasn't she? To allow herself to imagine being tortured, when it obviously wasn't true, when she looked every bit the posh, spoiled teenage girl that she very obviously was. Or had been. Now she was someone else, a werewolf, a girl without a wand, a stranger just dropped into the lives of three guys who'd asked nothing but to live in peace. Her new scar proved that. It did not only disfigure her, it marked the end of her old life and the start of a new one. Remus was right. This was a second life, a second chance that she was somehow granted. Whoever she had been in her previous life was dead and gone; she was someone else now. She decided to follow his advice. Forget about everything else. Forget about this past that had been hers; it didn't belong to her anymore, and neither did she belong to it. Yet the phantom memory of the word on her arm still burned. She knew that no matter how hard she tried, she'd have to live with the pain of knowing what she was. Somehow, she remembered that being a Mudblood was bad. It had shame and disgrace attached to it. She was a disgrace, a nobody. No - she had been a disgrace. But not anymore. Now, she resolved, she was a pureblood. She remembered that also; she knew that this was a good thing to be. Though she mightn't be one by blood, as should have been the case, no one but her knew that. The scar that proclaimed high and loud what she was was not here anymore - if it ever had been. Therefore, she could be whatever she wanted. And though the choice of being human had been taken from her, she could still decide the rest of her life on. She had the ability to. And she would use it.
She would bear the burden of her dismembered past, and when the time came to fully remember it - all of it -, she would try and move on from it. Disregard it - completely.
And alone.
X
About half an hour later, soaking in the filled tub with water to just below her chest and thick, white bubbles almost up to her chin, her hair slacked cleanly back with water and off her face, Hermione was asleep, her head resting back on the edge of the tub and her arms resting along her straight body.
She was fully relaxed now, finally alone after the events of the last night. It had taken the better part of that half hour to get used to the idea that she wasn't a virgin anymore, more than it should have since she remembered nothing of it. It was hard to acknowledge something that you didn't consciously know, but the wolf in her made Hermione more willing to take dangerous roads and unknown paths. As the slap she had given Sirius showed, she had grown surprisingly bold and daring just hours after her transformation. She might not have known much about herself, but she knew, as much as she hated to admit it, that Sirius had indeed been right when accusing her of being a goody two shoes, of sorts. Saying what she had said to him after his accusation had taken a lot of courage, and definitely enormous amounts of self control for her not to blush bright red like a ripe tomato and break off mid sentence. Yet she had been able to say it, and that was all thanks to her brand new wolf self.
That worked out, she had fallen asleep peacefully, dozing off into a deep slumber, exhausted by her first transformation and thrown off balance by a complete lack of memories. Much as she had said all those names back in the Shack, she didn't know who any of them were. The memory she had of being tortured - if it was a memory at all - was the only thing that seemed real of her life so far. For all she knew, 'Hermione' wasn't even her name, but the name of her best friend, or of her mother or sister. The name had simply popped up in her head in a haze, like an evidence, and she'd assumed it had been hers. Perhaps it hadn't been. But now it certainly was.
As for her last name... She had nothing.
And still, even as she slept, flashes of that vision came to her.
The darkness was oppressing. That cruel laugh cracked around her like a whip, lashing out like that knife sinking in her skin even as she tried to scream. But they'd drained her completely. She did not even have the energy to produce more than a strangled whisper, squirming under their tortures and praying to Merlin that this wasn't the end.
The knife slashed carelessly across the skin of her arm, in some kind of a pattern. The figure with the dark curls, bent over her in an ominous presence, chanted the word again and again. Mudblood, Mudblood, she sang restlessly, her voice laughing, mocking her as she lay helpless. Dirty, filthy Mudblood, it came again. Who did you steal your punny little spells from, Mudblood? Are you ready to die, Mudblood? She became convinced that that must be her name, through the pain-induced blanket pressing on her mind. She could not think, could not speak, could not even be without knowing what she was and being made aware of the flashes of pain bolting up her entire body. There was no escape now, no evading the facts or escaping that knife still looming over her. She was chained, as metaphorically as it was, to her own body, hyper aware of everything that she was forced to go through.
It seemed so real, that Hermione tossed and moaned her pain in her sleep, tormented by remnants of a memory she had constructed around herself. She half jolted herself awake when, in her dream, another voice spoke, followed by her name - a voice filled with rage and worry. Heated words, fired spells, specks of black and ginger hair, wide, watery eyes, and then - nothing.
Death.
It was then that the statue of Boris the Bewildered guarding the entry slid to the side, and in stepped a figure, silent as a feather. The person, their back still turned to Hermione's sleeping figure, silently dropped a black cloak off it's shoulders, then proceeded to unbutton the white acromantula silk shirt underneath it. Turning mid movement, they froze on seeing the feminine body covered to above chest in soap. Hermione didn't stir, engrossed as she was in her nightmare. But the person, who was definitely masculine, hesitated when the girl began begging in her sleep - begging for mercy. Then her eyes flashed open, looking confused for a second, then sensing foreign eyes on her and darting to the side, taking in the jet black, shoulder long hair and the halfway undone shirt hanging loose at the waist. Then something clicked into place, and her eyes flipped back up to meet the man's eyes, narrowing suspiciously at him.
"Yes?"
She raised an eyebrow inquiringly, oblivious to the fact that she had just been begging in her sleep. She looked strong on the outside, immovable, even soaked and vulnerably naked. Yet the boy felt that something was not quite right about her. Something felt off, but to hell if he knew what.
"I shall return later," was all he said.
The boy was about to leave, and Hermione knew that. He was buttoning his shirt back up when she raised her voice.
"Wait."
He turned his head to look at her, and it was his turn to raise his eyebrows at her in question. "Yes?"
"Can you stay?" came her voice, hesitant.
The boy whirled around fully, confused and slightly taken aback, but his eyes hard.
"Stay?" When she nodded, he added, "Why?"
She bit her bottom lip, and he could see she was hesitating.
"I just...I don't want to be left alone. Please," she whispered, keeping her eyes down.
The boy walked over to her slowly, keeping his gaze fixed to her face. She looked up when he reached her, and he kneeled and cupped her chin in his hand.
"Your name?"
She looked away then, prying her face from his fingers. "I had one," was her cryptic response. Again, he felt as though she were hiding something from him, but he didn't push it. Something told him that even if he had asked, she would not have known what to tell him. She looked lost. That was the only word he could find to fit the look in her amber eyes.
"I'll tell you what," he said gently, pulling a strand of her hair back behind her ear. "We'll make a pact. I won't ask for your name, and you won't ask for mine. Deal?"
The girl with the big brown eyes looked up at him, a tiny smile playing on her lips. He could see she wanted to laugh outloud, though he couldn't see what exactly she thought was so funny. But the look on her face... His heart missed a beat. She looked...happy. So happy, that he began to seriously wonder what he'd said to make her smile like this. Her brilliant smile was far from the pained expression on her face just minutes before, if not seconds.
He sat down beside her, unlacing his leather shoes, pulling them and his socks off, and immerging his feet in water, folding his dragon leather pants up to his knees and letting the soapy water lap at his bare legs. He kept a hand on the girl's thin shoulder for the next half hour, and only backed from her when she expressed the need to get out.
X
"Damn, Padfoot, where the fuck were you?! You left nearly half an hour ago! Did you meet a dragon on the way or something?!"
Sirius gave James a dark glare.
"Piss off, Prongs," he scowled, shoulders hunched. "Not in the mood."
The Head Boy raised an eyebrow.
"Okay, you really did meet a dragon, didn't you?"
Sirius just kept walking, heading straight up the stairs.
"You know that's my bedroom, right?" James called loudly after him. There was no answer, and he huffed to himself. "Fine, but you'll have to get out at one point or another! I'll kick you out if I have to!"
Something sounding suspiciously like "I'm waiting!" was heard from behind a closed door beyond the stairs, and James smirked, turning back to the ash blond teenager sitting on the sofa who had watched the whole scene in growing amusement.
"You'll kick him out, huh?"
James shrugged. "Well I had to say something. I couldn't just let him think he'd won."
"But he did," Remus pointed out playfully. "You're just pulling his leg. You'll never beat him in a fair fight."
The dark haired boy grinned. "I know. But I had to say something. Anything is better than nothing."
"That's arguable," Remus mused. "According to theory-"
"I'm not willing to discuss it, Moony," James quickly interjected, a tad desperate to avoid hour-long conversations about the who's and the why's of the phrase he'd had the misfortune to use in front of his smartass friend.
"Fine," the book worm shrugged, "but you still lost."
"I know," James sighed. "I just wish Sirius wouldn't lock himself in MY bedroom every time he's pissed off."
"I feel for you," Remus confirmed, his tone lacking the sympathy his words were implying. "But you should feel lucky he doesn't use your bedroom for other things, too," he added deviously, smirking.
James grimaced. "I'm not even sure he doesn't. For the time I spend in them, for all I know my rooms have become his shag HQ and there's nothing I can do about it." He groaned, plopping back down beside his friend and burying his head in his arms on the wooden table. "I'm doomed," he moaned pitifully. Remus patted him on the back comfortingly, and James suddenly raised his head, peering over his shoulder at his friend. "Moony?" he said hopefully.
"No," Remus answered resolutely before James could say another word, "I am not installing cameras in your rooms to check if Sirius shags his dates there or not. I paid that enough the first time. I'm not going to do it again."
"Please?" the Head Boy boy pouted.
"Your puppy eyes won't work with me, Prongs," Remus sighed, shaking his head.
"I promise I won't get off in front of the camera again?" James said tentatively.
"No," Remus stammered. "That's not something I'm ever going to forget seeing, and I'm not willing," the ash blond boy sarcastically accented the words James had used seconds earlier, "to live through it a second time, James. The answer is no."
"Damn," he swore, dropping his head back into his arms. "I really am doomed, amen't I?"
"Yup," Remus confirmed happily, "yes you are."
"Fuck."
"Thinking about that, did you get hard on Hermione sucking my finger?"
James groaned louder, locking his fingers over his head. "Damn, Moony, did you really have to bring that up?!"
"Yes," Remus confirmed, digging his fingers into his friend's back. "Yes I did. Because if you did, then I'm going to have to kill you."
Brown eyes peered over a shoulder. "Dude, you only met her like ten hours ago. Agreed, you've shagged her already," James conceded, "but that- Wait a minute," he suddenly exclaimed, cutting off mid sentence and sitting up straight, "I just realized! Moony shagged a girl! And first date, too!" He grinned at his usually shy friend, looking genuinely happy. "Congrats, Moony!"
"Thanks Prongs, but don't get away from the subject. Or try," he corrected, still continuously digging his fingers in James' lower back, who was doing his best not to react to it. "And we were wolves, so it doesn't count. And that certainly was not a date, James."
James grimaced. "Fine," he huffed. "Whatever you say. It's your sex life, after all."
"Thank you."
"What I was going to say," he continued, "was that even if you shagged her, that doesn't make her yours."
"I'll still kill you if you get anywhere near her that I find suspicious," Remus pointed out calmly.
"Fair enough," James agreed, nodding his head. "I'll remember that next time I get hard on her."
Remus glared at him, and the Head Boy chuckled.
"Seriously though, don't worry about it Moony. Lily's the only woman on my thoughts. Has been for many years."
"I think we noticed," Remus drawled distastefully, wrinkling his nose.
"Really?" the other asked innocently.
"Yes, James Merlin Potter, I'm pretty sure the whole damn school has known for a good few years."
James grimaced again. "I hate it when you use my middle name," he complained.
"I know," Remus confirmed, smirking evily.
"You know me too well," Prongs stated matter-of-factly.
"I'm your best friend," Remus reminded him. "It's my job to know you too well."
"Thanks, Moony."
"Welcome, Prongs."
X
"So, how long has it been?"
"The same length of time as when you asked me about five and a half seconds ago."
"And how long does that make it?"
"Roughly an hour and a half since Sirius came back."
"Isn't that..."
"Long even for a girl? Yes, I would have to agree with you on that one."
"Shouldn't we..."
"Go get her? Again, I can only be merely amazed at your insight, James. We can only assume she didn't die in horrible pain attacked by that dragon Sirius fought on their way to the Prefects' bathroom. And of course if that's not what happened, then she simply must have fallen into the trap of the giant Acromantula who spun her web across the castle's east wing all those hundred years ago. But that would only have happened if she'd actually needed to go to the east wing. And if she didn't get stored as a winter meal, then I'm absolutely convinced it must have been the-"
"Ok Remus, I get it!" James glared at him. "And your point is?"
"I have no idea," Remus answered happily. "I just had a moment of inspiration."
"I think Sirius has a bad influence on you," the Head Boy stated after a short moment of silence.
"And you're only noticing that now?"
"Hey," James protested, "I know I'm slow, okay? No need to rub it in."
"Sorry," Remus shrugged, not sounding sorry at all. "So what do we do?"
"Sleep?" James proposed.
"I'm serious, Prongs."
"No, I am," came a voice from the steps.
Sirius came into the room looking a little better than he had earlier, his hair combed neatly back and a genuine smirk plastered on his face.
"What you all talking about?"
"Hermione isn't back yet."
"I'm not checking on her," Sirius stated immediately, making for the stairs again.
"Pads," Remus interjected, "we weren't going to ask you to."
Sirius froze, one foot on the first step. "Oh," he breathed. "Good."
"Yes, now please come back and sit with us so we can think this through."
James took his head in his hands and groaned as though in pain. "This is why I hate girls," he moaned, rubbing his eyes sleepily.
"Lily's a girl," Sirius pointed out when he was sat down.
"Lily's different," James disagreed, his voice muffled in his hands. "She's a-"
"You're right," Sirius cut off seriously, "she's not a girl. She's a heartless bitch."
James shot his friend a dark look. "I was going to say a Goddess, a beauty queen, the Gryffindor Princess. But heartless bitch works as well."
"Well at least he admits it," Remus stated after a moment of silence. "That's as good a start as any."
"Now, since we're done talking about my girlfriend, can we please focus on Hermione?"
"Must I remind you that Evans has been rejecting you for four years, and that she is certainly no closer to becoming your girlfriend than she was in third year?"
"She will be," James stated firmly. "This year's the year she'll accept that we are soul mates."
"Right. You said that every other year too. It was never true and I honestly doubt-"
"This year's the one," James insisted. "I mean it this time."
"Because you didn't mean it before?" James was speechless, and Sirius said, leaving the subject for good, "The Map, Moony."
The blond boy didn't move. "Why exactly would I have it?"
"Because I gave it to you last week after James tracked down Filch? Or tried to, at the very least," Sirius corrected, eyeing the dark haired boy distastefully.
James avoided his friend's reproachful look, looking slightly guilt and unhappy with himself. "Not my fault he decided to go take a piss at the same time as I was tracking him down. Did you really expect me to barge in to see him over the cubicle?!"
"That's why we're called Marauders, Prongs!" Sirius roared. "We 'maraude'! We sneak, we cheat, we're disloyal, we don't play fair! Damn it, James!"
"I stole the toilet paper," the Head Boy offered innocently. "And I still managed to nick his pants."
"And just how did you manage that if you didn't go into the concerned cubicle?"
"I did," Prongs pouted. "I stole the toilet paper."
"Then why, oh why didn't you also take the keys?!"
"Hum..."
"Now!" Sirius exclaimed, splaying his fingers on top of the table. "The Map!"
"I still don't have it, Padfoot."
"I know," Sirius admitted. "I left it in Hogsmeade two days ago."
"You...what?!"
"Yeah, well, you see, there was this chick-"
"I don't give a flying Goblin what your reason is! Why for Merlin's sake did you ask me for it when you knew I didn't have it?!"
"I was trying to give myself time to find an excuse." He shrugged helplessly. "I didn't."
"You're hopeless," James concluded with an exasperated sigh. "Okay, here's what we're gonna do. Padfoot, you take the cloak and go look for the Map. And I swear to Merlin that if you don't brink it back before the day is over... Remember what I did to that guy when we went to that bowling alley with those five Muggle girls in Newbury?"
"You wouldn't," Sirius murmured, paling. "You're only pulling my leg. You wouldn't dare."
James looked at him darkly. "Do I look like I'm joking? As Moony here truthfully reminded me earlier, the only way I can win against you in a fight is by cheating and not playing fair. Therefore," and he stood up, leaning over the table to poke his friend in the chest, "I won't play fair. I'm not joking, Pads. Isn't that what you were just asking me to do? You get that Map back or you'll regret the day your auntie decided to have a kid with a Potter."
Sirius gulped audibly, shot up off his chair like a demented man, and disappeared out the door.
"Sirius, the Cloak!"
Watching in amusement as the dark haired boy came running back up the stairs and down, Remus could only shake his head that James had managed to pull such a threat on his best friend. Nothing could have pushed the eldest Black on like that.
"You know he's going to hate you for it if you really do that to him," the blonde reflected once Sirius had once again gone out the door to the Head Common Room.
James grinned mischievously at him. And also a little evily. "I know. Which is why I'm counting on him bringing the Map back. He wouldn't risk me pulling that threat for real. He knows all too well I'm capable of it."
Remus chuckled, James winked at him, and then they both headed down to the Prefects' bathroom to look for the girl that had, just hours before, barged into their lives without a single warning.
X
Ten minutes later, the two Marauders were still looking for her.
They had gone to the Prefects' bathroom, found it empty, checked in the Shrieking Shack, gone back up to the Head Common Rooms, and were going back to the Great Hall when they bumped into an invisible Sirius coming out of the passage of the one eyed witch.
Just as Sirius was opening the Map with them, a pair of feet disappeared off the edge of the Map and out of the Hogwarts grounds.
Had Hermione even known of the existence of the Marauders' Map at that point, she would have thanked Merlin that Sirius had left in Hogsmeade the week before. Because just then, the three boys noticed a tag labelled with her name.
It wasn't the fact that she was in the Headmaster's office that had them reeling. Nor the question of just how she had known where to go once out of the bathroom.
It was her last name that had them breaking into a run for the door that had been guarded by an eagle for as long as Hogwarts existed in human memory.
A last name that just then made no sense to any of them.
A last name that ultimately meant that she had been hiding way more things from them than she should have.
A thousand questions burned in their minds as all three Marauders slowed in front of the eagle, gave the password, ran up the spiralling and moving stairs, and came face to face with Hermione as they barged into the Headmaster's office.
Behind his desk, sat Albus Dumbledore, blue eyes twinkling with uncanny malice behind half moon glasses. Across from him, sitting in a comfortable leather chair but looking worn out and stunned into a stupor, was the girl with the brown bushy hair and amber eyes, one hand to her wrist and the other on her lap. Her hair was braided down her back from the top of her head neatly. She was wearing a pair of dark jeans and a white t-shirt, acromantula silk from the looks of it. Before they could ask how and where she had gotten the clothes, she opened her mouth to speak.
"Guys," Hermione whispered, her throat audibly tight, "something's happened. Professor Dumbledore has just adopted me!"
A/N2: Wow! Finally! Chapter 4, you have been one hell of a beast to write! I was stuck on the second scene for ages. Like three full weeks or something. I was stuck on it for three weeks, and then the scenes after that just flew out like they were easy (which they weren't (lol)).
Well well, finally, I've begun to set down my plot! Were you surprised when Hermione said that Dumbledore had adopted her? Do you understand how significant Sirius' forgetting the map is to her? I mean, just think for a moment. What name would they have seen had they had the map on hand to look for her straight away, before she got even a chance to meet Dumbledore in this era? Hermione GRANGER. Not Dumbledore. Which would ultimately have ruined any chance she had at that point of fitting into this timeline and forgetting about the past she could even remember.
Challenge: Can any of you guess who the black haired boy from scene two is, and how she got from the bathroom to Dumbledore's office? Can anybody guess what happened in with the Headmaster to make him adopt her? (You'll get your answers, next chapter will be about what happened that next hour and a half, from Hermione's POV.)
~Tenshi