Chapter 7

"You're lying... Don't lie to me, bitch... It's not nice..."

"No! I swear, we didn't steal it! I'm not lying!"

"Crucio! Scream for me, Mudblood... Come on...scream! Scream! SCREAM!"

X

"Hermione! Hermione wake up, it's a dream! Wake up! Hermione!"

And then she was awake, her mouth opened wide on the gut-wrenching scream that had escaped her through her dream. 'Nightmare' would have been more accurate a word to describe what she had just seen - what she had just felt.

As Remus held her against his chest, she cried openly, pounding weakly into him with her tiny fists as the pain she had just endured made her body jolt. And then voices reached them from down the stairs, getting closer and closer, worry evident on James and Sirius' faces as, both looking like they'd just been woken up, which was probably the case, they appeared in the double bedroom.

One of the beds empty and undone, the other currently hosting a terrified girl crying into a friend's chest.

Both looked as though their world had been pulled out from under them.

And when Remus raised his downcast eyes to meet theirs, there was just as much horror in their faces as there was in Hermione's terrified sobs.

In a split second the two of them were at her side, sitting on and around her bed and rubbing soothing circles into her back as she cried. Only yesterday, they had returned from the Headmaster's office, and now here she was, suffering from the violent aftershock of what had obviously been a nightmare.

Remus was reeling. It was about three in the morning, and minutes ago he had been awoken by an intense pain in his head and his left arm. He'd heard Hermione screaming, not knowing just how long ago she had started, and had mindlessly jumped from his bed and rushed to hers, realizing in milliseconds that the pain he was feeling was not his, but hers - and that it was so strong that she was unconsciously sending it to him through their bond, calling for help without being aware of it. At first he had thought that she was being attacked, only to realize that she was dreaming - and what a powerful dream it must have been for the pain to seem so utterly real and devastating...

The pain was slowly receding now, leaving way to an insistent throb in the back of his head. His link with Hermione told him that she was calmer now, her breathing and her heartbeat slower than they had been minutes before. All four of them were silent, James and Sirius surprisingly so. As much as he would have expected them to throw jokes at either him or Hermione, they looked just as solemn as he felt in that suspended moment.

Remus looked down at the girl he was holding, her face buried in his chest and her hands clutching at his t-shirt, sitting up in her bed; then at James, sitting behind her with one leg dangling off the edge of the bed and the other crossed under it, one hand on her back; and finally at Sirius cross-legged on the floor, leaning forward, concern and worry plain on his face. The werewolf returned his gaze to Hermione, unsure as to what it was exactly that he was feeling. He felt like he belonged. Like she belonged. He hadn't thought about Peter much the past day, all because she had popped into their lives and turned them upside down in less than a day. She was a werewolf. She'd needed help. That was all it had originally been. But then the old fool had gone and adopted her, and now she was going to stay with them.

They had been staying in Hogwarts for two months - ever since the first full moon of the summer holidays - and every day had been a constant and painful reminder of the fourth Marauder - the shy, chubby and joyful Peter. Everyday all three of them would mention the other boy, and would say how much they missed him, how much they wished him to be here. But now it seemed as though this girl – this stranger, because he had to admit they knew next to nothing about her - had come and somehow replaced him. They hadn't mentioned his name once the previous day, not even when they had been alone in the Head Common Room without Hermione beside them. She had still been the only thing on their minds, even absent from the room. Whether it was the novelty of her presence that changed their behaviours, or the fact that she seemed to fit into their little group like a hand would into a glove, he didn't know. Perhaps he would never know. For now, his witch needed him, and that was all that mattered.

"Hermione," he whispered gently into her hair. "Hermione, are you ok?"

For a moment there was silence, all three of them holding their breaths and waiting anxiously for her to speak.

"Yeah," she whispered, and they all exhaled in relief. "Yeah," she repeated, "I'm ok. I'm better now. Remus," she whispered, her voice fading away, and her fingers tightened on his t-shirt.

In seconds she was asleep once more, her breathing even and her face still buried in his chest. The blonde boy looked up at James, who was watching them with a slightly amused look on his face.

"What?" he said defensively.

"Nothing mate," James laughed quietly, shooting a conspiratorial look towards Sirius. But Sirius was frowning to himself, looking down at his hands and obviously not sharing in the other boy's amusement. James shot him a reproachful eye that the black haired boy did not see, and turned his attention back to Remus. "What do you think that was all about?" he asked, changing the subject.

The blond gave him a look that clearly said, 'I'm not dupe', and let his eyes fall back on the sleeping girl. "I'm not sure," he whispered gently, careful not to rouse her. "She was...having a nightmare, I think. She was in pain, James. So much pain..."

His eyes were fixed to her brown hair for a moment, and then he eased her backwards, James jumping out of the way as Remus tucked the covers around her sleeping form and brushed stray strands of hair from her face.

"How do you know?"

Remus looked up at his friend. "What do you mean?"

"How did you know she was in pain?" James explained, his eyes careful.

But it was Sirius who answered. "Because of their link." And the bitterness in his voice was unmistakable as he sat on the floor frowning at his knees.

The blonde boy threw him a confused look, not understanding where Sirius' sudden resentful tone was coming from.

"I'd completely forgotten about the link," James mused, his eyes wandering away and a small smile playing on his lips. Then he focused back on Remus and said, "Let's move downstairs, shall we? I think we have a lot to talk about."

X

"Just think about it," James was saying. "We don't know anything about her, and all of a sudden she just pops into our lives and gets adopted by the most powerful wizard in present history. I don't like it, that's all I'm saying."

"James-"

"No, you listen to me Moons. This is serious. For all we know she could be a spy sent by Voldemort to tell him all about us. She could be here to kill every one of us in our sleep and yet you welcome her here as if you'd known her for years! It's not like you, Remus. It's not like you at all. And I think you know that as well as I do."

"Prongs-"

"I know what you're gonna say. You trust her, you have a link, she's a werewolf, and bla and bla and bla. You said she was bitten by Greyback - very well. But what if the Death Eaters made her a werewolf for that precise reason? Because they knew that, if you found someone like you, you'd trust them no matter what? This is madness, Moony."

"James Merlin Potter, you just shut up this instant and listen to me!"

James sat back, a little shocked at his usually quiet friend's outburst. Actually, 'flabbergasted' would have been the perfect word to describe his expression. "You sound just like my mum," he said finally, his voice subdued.

Remus grinned darkly. "I know."

James stared. "But that's just weird. You're not my mum," he complained.

"It's my job to sound like one," the other boy shrugged. "Actually, it's our job," he added, looking pointedly up the stairs to the dorm where Sirius had chosen to stay back before joining them, "but that one is too busy muttering to himself to help out."

"I heard that," came a forced whisper from upstairs.

Sirius came into view then, shaggy black hair shining softly in the moonlit staircase as he joined them quietly. His expression was still drawn in for some reason, devoid of its usual openness and sarcastic humour. He sat down wordlessly on the carpet in front of them, his back against the couch that James and Remus were sitting on facing each other as he stared into the fire. The other two exchanged a somewhat dumbfounded look, both startled by their friend's silence.

"Pads," Remus said gently. "Is everything ok?"

There was a short silence, then Sirius shrugged.

"Moony? Did you just hear what I heard?"

"If you mean the silence, then yes Prongs, I heard it too."

James shook his head wistfully, then threw his hands up in the air dramatically. "Our Padfoot is silent! Can you believe it, Moons? He's silent!"

Remus chuckled, and Sirius whirled around with a growl. "Will you shut it, you two!" He turned back to the fire, his face falling as suddenly as it had flared up. He leaned back against the couch, then surprised both of them by lifting his hands up to his face and rubbing it with them, tired and confused.

"Hey, Pads," James said, his voice softer now as he put a hand on his best friend's shoulder. "What's wrong? Is this about Stell?"

Sirius took a deep breath, his shoulder heaving and falling once under James' fingers. "Where do you think she came from, Prongs? Who do you suppose she is? How did she get here?"

"That's-"

"A lot of questions, yeah, I know." Sirius huffed through his nose. A weak laugh escaped him, a short, startled note like a bird out of breath. "I just wish we had some answers, you know? I mean, we don't know who she is. She just...barged into our lives."

"She's a werewolf," Remus said gently. "The link we share is new and crude, but I can feel most of what she feels. It's - that's what I was trying to explain to James before you came back down." There was a short silence, and Remus exhaled, dragging a hand down his strained features. "She's afraid, Sirius. So afraid. Afraid of us. Afraid of where she came from. Afraid of the nightmares that plague her, afraid of things that she cannot remember or understand. It's as though her body remembers it all but her brain has everything locked away with a silver key at the back of her head. She's afraid that we're just going to let her down - the same way that I get the feeling she was let down before. She - she doesn't even realize she's feeling all this. Half the time she tries to act strong, like she could possibly know what to do in this Merlin forsaken world that she's never before seen in her life - at least not as far as she remembers. She wouldn't be this afraid if she was a spy. I know she's not a spy, Padfoot, because I can feel all this. I know-"

But Sirius waved a hand in the air dismissively and interrupted him; "I know that, Moons, I never said anything about her being a spy. I don't think she's a spy, either. I can't be sure, like you are, but I feel like I can trust her. That's - not what I'm asking."

"Then what are you asking?"

"I - I don't even know." Sirius laughed again, that same, chortled laugh, a startled sound halfway between a sob and a giggle. "I want to know her, but there's no way to know her. I want to believe her, but there's nothing to prove to us that she's really who she says she is - nobody. The only thing I can rely on is my instinct, and Merlin knows I've never had a good instinct! My questions have no answers, and I'm - Merlin damn it, Prongs, I'm not good at this!"

James chuckled. "Actually, you were doing pretty well up until about two seconds ago."

Remus nodded, even though Sirius couldn't actually see him. "James is right, Sirius. I understand what you said. I don't really know how to reply, but I get what you're trying to say. I get that you want to trust her, to believe her, but you don't feel like you have a right to without being absolutely sure that she's saying the truth. But Sirius, that's precisely what trusting someone is about. You're never exactly sure whether they're lying or saying the truth; you wouldn't have to trust them if they always said the truth, only follow them blindly. Trusting someone is about knowing, deep within yourself, that what they do or say is always for the best. For your best. Trusting someone is remembering that that person loves you, and that they would never intentionally hurt you. I trust Hermione blindly, because I've seen into her heart and I know that she would never hurt me - that she would never hurt anyone."

Remus fell silent then, and Sirius shook his head bemusedly, the fire in the hearth reflected off the movement of his black locks. "For someone who didn't really know how to reply, that was a pretty good speech."

James laughed, and then they were all off, laughing a much needed laugh in the Head common room, while upstairs, a young woman with wavy chestnut hair and front teeth that she had always thought were too big wrapped trembling arms around her legs and cried all her soul into her knees.

X

"'Mione, you have to get up."

The girl groaned and turned away from the voice, tucking her hands under her pillow and burying her face into it.

The person who had been talking grumbled half-heartedly, muttering to himself about how if she'd been a guy he wouldn't have hesitated to rip the blanket off her.

"Please, don't let that stop you," the girl mumbled into her pillow, not giving any indication that she was going to move any time soon.

There was a stunned silence behind her. Then a new pair of steps approached her bed, and suddenly the covers were effectively ripped off of her. She yipped affrontedly, shooting into a sitting position as she flailed about for the blanket that had been covering her and keeping her warm and snug not seconds before.

"I didn't mean that!" she shrieked, glaring up at the two boys standing above her, one of them a dark blond and disapproving, the other black-haired, glasses jumping worriedly on his nose as he laughed and royally ignored both of them. She fixed her gaze on the latter boy, feeling behind her for her pillow, and promptly threw into the offender's face.

Hands shot out and caught the pillow just after it hit target, James staggering back a step with the thing in his hands held in front of his face. He peeked from over it once he'd stabilized himself, eyes blinking sheepishly down at the brown-haired girl still staring crossly at his flushed face. "I'm sorry?" he attempted sheepishly, hiding the bottom of his face and the telltale smile straining his lips with the pillow.

She glared, then huffed and turned away, unconvinced by his half-hearted effort. Her bare feet hit the cold floor, and she dropped to her knees, feeling under the bed for the slippers that Remus had transfigured for her the previous day. Her hand found purchase and she pulled the soft material towards her, straightening and sitting on the bed to pull them on her feet. Then she stood, grabbed the clothes thrown haphazardly on the floor beside her bed, and headed without a backward glance towards the open door of the bathroom.

"James," the blond boy growled when she had slammed the door behind her.

Said 'James' turned to face him, pillow still pulled tight on each side across the bottom of his face in a rather comical manner, eyes twinkling mischievously above the pristine white fabric. "Yes?" he asked innocently.

There was a short silence, and then he said, "Don't even think about it."

"Think about what, Moony?"

"Leave her be. You shouldn't have woken her up like that in the first place, so now you will not go peek on her in the shower."

"But Moony-"

"No, James. I'm serious. Do I make myself clear?"

"Actually, I'm serious," a new voice piped up from the hallway, soon followed by a handsome, aristocratic face framed in dark, shiny curls of hair.

Remus rolled his eyes, arms still crossed over his thin chest. "Sirius, that joke went old ten years ago."

"Na," the interested grinned. "It'll grow old when I do – never. Now if you'd please excuse me-"

"Just what do you think you're doing, Pads?"

Sirius looked at him innocently. "Going into the bathroom to take a shower, why?"

Remus fixed him with an accusing gaze. "Hermione's in there."

Sirius looked at him blankly. "Your point?" Then his face lit up. "You want to join her too Moony? Oh, I can share, I don't mind. Threesome's are fun."

"No, Sirius, I am not going in there, and neither are you," the blond articulated exasperatedly. "At least not while she is."

"And who said?" Sirius asked, frowning.

"I did," the werewolf growled menacingly, glaring at his best friend. "Now move your stinking ass out of here and come back when she's out!"

"Hey," Sirius protested, unsuccessfully resisting being pushed out of the dorm room by the other boy, "the only reason my butt stinks is because you just stopped me from taking my weekly shower, traitor!"

"And I've just been royally ignored," James muttered once Sirius was out the door, rolling his eyes and throwing Hermione's pillow back onto her bed. "Am I that bad a catch that Sirius wouldn't even bother to ask me if I'd want a foursome with Hermione?" he wondered allowed as Remus came back up to him.

Remus just grinned and gave his friend a light slap behind his head. "Because you're supposed to be infatuated with Evans, Prongs. And if I may remind you, laying a girl you've only just met and risking Lily finding out is definitely not a good thing for you if you truly wish to pursue a serious relationship with her. No pun intended," he added as an afterthought.

James smiled wryly. He clapped Remus' shoulder roughly. "Now I know why I keep you around, Moons. Even though you really do sound like my mum," he grimaced dramatically.

The werewolf shook his head bemusedly and chuckled softly, a small smile playing on his lips. Suddenly he froze, and his head came up slowly as his eyes glimmered dangerously. "Prongs," he said, "I know exactly what we're to do now."

X

"Sirius, give it up will you," Remus snapped at his friend. Sirius had been desperately attempting to catch the beautiful Rosmerta's eye for the past ten minutes, and it was seriously starting to irritate the werewolf sitting beside him. Meanwhile, James sat fidgeting, swinging his legs under the table and his head craned up to look at the ceiling, an attitude which made him look increasingly like an impatient twelve year old kid. "James," Remus snapped again, turning his head to look at the other boy. "You're embarrassing all of us! Will you at least tell us what the prank is and then we won't have to watch you like this for no reason?!"

James looked down and flashed him his signature evil grin, but returned to staring at the ceiling without so much as a word. Remus sighed.

"Remus," the girl across from him chuckled, watching him dubiously as though expecting him to sprout a moustache an finding it highly amusing. She reached across the table and patted his hand, giving him a small, sympathetic smile that said everything he needed to know. "Leave it. It's fine. Don't worry about it, I'm sure I can handle the mortal embarrassment of sitting at the same table as those two."

She rolled her eyes in Sirius' direction, a glint in her eye as she looked at the Black that pulled on the string of an alarm bell somewhere deep in the other werewolf's mind. He ignored it and shook his head again, wrenching his eyes from her face as he followed her gaze. "If you say so, 'Mione," he said, and a sudden, violent kick from James sitting in front of him had him slamming his kneecap against the underside of the table in surprised pain. "What in Merlin's name was that for, James?" he yelled, leaning down to rub at the offended appendage. "Did my face suddenly displease you or were you trying to kill a nargle on my leg?"

There was a sudden whoosh over his head, and Remus had the infinitely good sense to look up and to not move as he watched white-topped cream tarts fly over his head and over the wooden panel separating them from the next table. There was a shout, a shriek, and a concert of startled and offended yelps as their owners threw their chairs back and wet, dirty sploshes that were no doubt cream-induced reached their ears. Remus straightened hesitantly following James' pride-filled nod that it was safe to do so.

"Hum," he said, cocking his head to the side as he analysed the shrieking voices. "Flint and Bulstrode?" he guessed?

James nodded, grin still plastered on his face. "And Black."

At that, Sirius piped up, having lost interest in the lovely bartender who was, either way, nowhere in sight. "Which one?"

"Bellabitch," Remus answered immediately, having recognized the voice seconds ago. Prongs and Sirius grinned at him while Hermione just gaped, and he shrugged unapologetically. "What? It's catchy."

Padfoot clapped his shoulder. "It sure is, Moony, it sure is. I'm proud of you, son."

The blonde rolled his eyes and went to slap the back of the Black's head, but Sirius ducked his head before the blow could hit, and all Remus' hand did was graze the top of the other's flowing hair.

"So, who's this Bellabitch?" Hermione's voice asked over the three boys' bickering.

"Unfortunately, Sirius' cousin," James answered her.

"My mother's brother, Cygnus Black, and Druella Rosier's oldest daughter," Sirius interjected. "The Black family tree, like any pure blooded family's, is a seriously complicated affair. Cygnus Black is also my father's great uncle's grandchild. My parents are cousins." He shuddered. "I really hope they don't force to marry one of my cousins."

"Dromeda wouldn't be that bad," James remarked thoughtfully.

"My sister will never be any of yours," a cold voice sliced his words. "She is a pureblood. Two blood traitors and an animal will never be good enough for her," Bellatrix Black sneered disdainful, black polished nails peeling the wood of their table as she leaned into them and blew her stinking breath into their faces. Her face straightened, and so did her back as she looked down at their distasteful faces. "Even all three of you together could never satisfy her." Her eyes focused on James, and all four of them had yet to say a thing as they watched her pour her fury onto them. "And you, James Potter, traitor to your blood, my dear cousin," and she spat the last word, "you had better watch your back this year. I should not have to remind you that there are people still close enough to you that they can easily make you regret the day my great aunt decided to have a son with your bastard of a father."

James stood then, lips pulled back over his face in an animalistic snarl that suggested that he was the werewolf, not the blonde boy sitting quivering in rage in his seat in front of him. "Take that back, you bitch!" he snarled, stepping up on the cushioned bench and then on the table as she backed away with a sadistic smile on her face that only spurred him on. "Take that back!"

Then suddenly Bellatrix was flying backwards, holding her nose with both hands as fresh blood gushed from it and Sirius's fist withdrew from it. In the midst of James' anger, he had stood, and now his fists were closed and his body shook in barely contained fury as he stared at Bellatrix with murder intent in his eyes. "Fuck off," he spat at her now, poised forward as her eyes widened in shock and anger at him. Behind her, Astromia Flint and Carrimella Bulstrode rushed to her, staring at Sirius as though they had never seen him before. No doubt they thought he was a contemptuous bastard who was no better than his worthless friends and ought to kill himself to save his parents the shame of having him as a son.

Sirius, on his part, knew, though he couldn't quite bring himself to care, that his hitting Bellatrix would have consequences with his parents. His mother Walburga was particularly close to her brother and his three daughters, and treated them – Bella and Narcissa, at least, if not Andromeda – as though they were her own. She would definitely not appreciate his disfiguring of the oldest of her nieces. Perhaps it would even prompt her to throw him out.

Internally, Sirius smirked.

"Sirius," a gentle, shaking voice suddenly whispered. He looked around, and his gaze fell on Hermione. She, too, was standing, her hand extended as though to touch him, a look on her face akin to fear. "Sirius," she said again, "please." Her hand was shaking. Was it he she was afraid of? Her eyes – haunted. It was as though a ghost had surfaced from the recesses of her darkened memory – and it was looking straight at him.

"Sirius," Hermione said again. She wasn't exactly sure why she was saying his name. Was she asking him to stop? Was she calling for help, silently pleading him to catch her even as her eyes rolled back into her head and her legs gave out from under her?

Again, a memory plagued her; spurred perhaps by Sirius' punching of his cousin. In her mind's eye, Hermione saw a man with startling blue eyes, a gaze older and heavier than Sirius' boring into her. In front of him, a black haired teen with green eyes like blazing emeralds – James' exact portrait besides those orbs. And between them, a middle-aged man with long platinum blond hair and a face as hard as iron. The black-haired man swung forward, and his fist connected with the blonde's shocked face. He fell, and even as he fell she knew that the black-haired man was Sirius. Older, wiser, eyes hounded by ghosts and memories that she could not comprehend. How this was even possible – for she was seeing the future, of that she was sure – she did not know. She knew only one thing.

Whatever it was that this older Sirius had lived, it had broken the good-natured, sarcastic teen that she knew.

And that, she could not – would not – allow.

X

A/N: New chapter! Yes, I know what you're going to tell me; WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN BITCH? I'm sorry! x D I haven't had the heart or inspiration to continue this in months. What prompted me to continue this chapter was passing 200 followers – and THANK YOU, by the way!

Now, about this chapter. That ending was absolutely not planned! It sort of imposed itself as an evidence when Sirius punched Bellatrix. Hermione reacted strongly, and at first I didn't understand why. Then it occurred to me that she'd seen Sirius punch someone like this before – Lucius Malfoy in the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry. Once I remembered this, her instinctive reaction made a lot more sense, and the rest came easily. Her vision, her determination; both are essential to her development in this story. She's just had a vision of the future, and though she knows this, she doesn't quite understand the consequences behind it.

Any comments? Personally, I really enjoy those scenes between the Marauders! Possibly the only 'fun' parts of this fic, both to read and to write! x )

Please, read and REVIEW! Even if you hated it, tell me what I can do to improve. It's incredibly gratifying for a writer to know that he or she has prompted someone to give them some of their precious time for a quick review.

Thank you all for your continued support, and a particular thank you for FictionPress author Robinbird who helped me get this damned chapter back on track!

Oh, if any of you are interested, you can visit my FictionPress account, name: KuraraOkumura. I have an essay in English posted, and also the Prologue to a book in French that I'm trying to start.

Arigatou gozaimasu minna!

Btw, go see the pole on my profile to vote for Second Life as your favourite of my fanfics if it is! : D

~Tenshi