The next morning at breakfast, Dumbledore announces to the whole school that the decision has finally been reached to send all of the sick students to St. Mungo's for more specialized care. The Minister has finally judged the situation to have gone on for long enough, and has assigned the best Healers in the country to take care of the students.

"This is outrageous," Lily hisses. "Madame Pomfrey is the best Healer in the country."

Hermione shakes her head. "She can't dedicate her time to researching their cause. She doesn't have the necessary books or materials at her disposal, and she still has to take care of the other students. It's not that she isn't qualified for the job, it's just that she doesn't have the time."

Madame Pomfrey sits at the staff table a few seats away from Dumbledore. She sits up straight with her held up high, but Hermione can see how white her lips look even from such a distance. She probably fought the Ministry every step of the way to keep the students here. But, as much as Hermione respects Madame Pomfrey and admires her, for once she thinks the Ministry is right to take the students away.

The whole day passes by in a blur as Hermione, Lily, James, Sirius, Remus and a whole squad of students volunteer to see the sick ones moved. Due to their situations, it has been decided that their constitutions is too delicate for them to be Floo'd or Apparated to London. Therefore, they have to be transported to Hogsmeade, where they are then going to be boarded onto the Hogwarts Express. Aurors will be at the station to see to it that the sick students are transported as gently and covertly as possible to the hospital.

It's nearing the end of the afternoon when everyone treks back up to the school. There's dejection in the air that lasts the whole week. It's not a defeat for Madame Pomfrey but for the whole school, it appears, to have to acknowledge that sometimes even Hogwarts can't solve every problem.

In their own way, the professors try and help the students keep their minds off of their friends and Housemates by handing out even more homework than usual, and for the first time since Hermione's arrival at Hogwarts she finds herself sitting in the library between Sirius and James, all furiously scribbling away at their roll of parchments.

"The bloody Slytherins were just delighted at seeing the sick girls sent off," Sirius seethes at one point. They had been studying quietly in the library and all of a sudden he just exploded.

A few students look up, surprised from their work, but thankfully no Syltherins are present to start a fight.

"Keep your voice down, you'll get us kicked out," Lily hisses. Still keeping her own voice quiet, she adds, "How do you even know this?"

"It's not like it's a secret, is it?" Sirius replies, but at least he keeps his voice down. Sirius is right. The Slytherins have been walking around with great big smiles on their faces while the rest of the school has been mourning the temporary loss. "Besides, my source tells me that they threw a celebration party when the girls were sent to St. Mungo's."

Lily looks sick. "Those bastards," she whispers. "Have they no hearts?"

"No, that's the point. And my brother was among them. That Hippogriff dung. You know, he was part of the Slytherin group torturing Dorcas last month? I won't let him get away with that. I'm just biding my time until the perfect moment to extract some personal vengeance."

"Your brother?" Hermione echoes, surprised. She hadn't thought about it, but now picturing the Black family tapestry she remembers having seen a name beside Sirius' scorched-out spot.

"Regulus Black, a spineless little toadie. He can't think for himself. All he knows how to do is jump to my mother's bark. He's part of the You-Know-Who crew."

"I'm sorry," Lily whispers. "But their unpleasant alliances still doesn't prove that they're behind this."

"I have to agree." Hermione thinks of all the times Draco and his gang were behind unpleasant business. It's not in Slytherin nature to hide their involvement in things they're proud of, especially not when they think they're alone. "As much as it pains me to give up our only lead I don't think they're the ones behind this."

"They are!" Sirius speaks too loudly again, and a girl from a nearby table throws him a murderous look.

"Ssssh!"

"They're behind this, I know they are," he continuous, making a deliberate effort to keep his voice down. "There isn't anyone else it could be."

"There has to be," Hermione insists. "Try to think hard. What could all those sick girls have in common?"

"What about those who lost their magical abilities?" Remus asks

"What about Evans? Who'd have anything against her?"

Sirius snorts. "Who wouldn't? She takes away points like it's going out of style."

"I'm still here, Black."

"Well, I'm sorry but it's true. And I only say this because now I know you're cool and we're friends, but I used to think you were one stuck-up bitch. Come on, we all did," he throws a pointed look at Peter, who averts his eyes. "You guys are wimps. All I'm saying is that I can see how someone would have a bone to pick with Evans if she took away their House points is all."

"All right," Hermione concedes, putting her hand gently on Lily's arm before she can snap back. "Now, who would be the type of person to get pissed off enough about House points to attack Lily and what could that person have in common, or against, all of those sick girls?"

A silence falls over the table. Sirius runs his fingers through his hair and Peter chews furiously on the end of his pencil.

"I can't think of anything those girls have in common," James finally mutters. "They're all so different. They have no activities or friends or House in common."

"They're not even all in the same year," Lily whispers.

"But they are all older girls," Hermione points out. "Fifth, sixth and seventh year girls, right? Why wouldn't younger girls be targeted?"

"And why just Muggle-borns?"

"And why are no boys getting sick?"

"A puberty curse?" James holds up his hands when they all turn to stare at him. "What? I'm just throwing ideas out there."

"Not bad, but many fourteen-year-old girls have already hit puberty. Besides, do Pureblood girls not hit puberty?"

Sirius snorts loudly. "It's debatable," he mutters darkly.

James shrugs. "It's worth a look, no? Granger, why don't we go back to the You-Know-Where?" he mutters quickly, casting a quick look at Madam Pince, who isn't too far away. "See if we can find anything relating to puberty curses or something?"

Hermione's pulse speeds up. Getting back under the cloak with James, being that close… She doesn't know if she can handle it. Ever since Hogsmeade, she's been trying to put some distance between them without looking like she's avoiding him. "Oh, well, um, I don't know, do you think we'd find anything? It's been a dead end so far. Why don't you and Lily go?"

"What?" Lily turns to stare at Hermione. "Gabi, you know I can't do that. I'm a Prefect," she hisses. "Besides, I have to patrol at night. I can't just sneak off and go You-Know-Where."

"Right." Hermione rubs her eyebrow. What is she thinking? "Maybe when the workload eases up a bit. I'm behind on my essays as it is." Hermione knows homework shouldn't be her first concern in this world, but James and the others don't know that and the excuse does its trick. Even Sirius and James are swamped.

"Yeah, I suppose so," James sighs. "We're going to be having two extra nights of Quidditch practice starting next week anyway," he says. "We want to be in top shape for our first game in November.

"You're already practicing four times a week. You're all going to be too exhausted to play properly when game time comes around at this rate," Lily says disapprovingly.

James shrugs. "It wouldn't be such a problem if we didn't have so much bloody homework, but Quidditch has priority."

"No it's doesn't!" Lily almost shouts, and then slaps a hand over her mouth.

Sirius laughs. "You're cute when you get all fired up, Evans."

"Please don't make me barf, Black," Lily snaps right back, which makes Sirius laugh even more.

Hermione and Remus exchange a look but Remus only rolls his eyes. He's used to Sirius dismissively flirting with girls.

The weeks pass like this, though James and Sirius meet them in the library less and less, becoming increasingly obsessed with Quidditch practice. Hermione is almost thankful for this, thinking it'll make it easier for her to avoid James, but he's everywhere she turns.

At breakfast, he shows up after she's sat done and plunks down beside her and leans in too close to say good morning, and Hermione's heart flutters in her chest. In class, he sits in the seat behind her and spends his time trying to distract her by tickling her ear with his quill until Hermione turns around and rips it out of his hand and snaps it in half. The professor assigns Hermione extra homework for that and all James does is pull out a spare quill and start all over again. One night, when Hermione lets herself be dragged out of the library by Remus and Lily to attend a Gryffindor practice, James flies up to her in the bleachers and asks her to "Hang onto my scarf? I'm bloody hot!" and Hermione thinks she'll die from the catcalls the seventh year boys throw her way.

"He likes you a lot, you fool!" Lily tells Hermione one night when they're sitting on Hermione's bed, comparing last-minute notes before bedtime. It's the last thing Hermione wants to hear coming from Lily.

"You're the one who's been telling me to be careful and not to fall victim to his charms since the beginning."

Lily sniffs and starts braiding her hair. She does so on nights when she's washed her hair and in the morning she has lovely natural waves. "Well, that was before I really knew him. I think he's sweet, actually. I think you two would make a cute couple."

Hermione's heart speeds up, both out of hope and jealousy. "You think he's sweet? Do you like him?" She's not sure how her voice sounds to Lily, but Lily pauses in her braiding and gives Hermione a long, strange stare.

Then she bursts out laughing. "You're jealous! Oh, Gabi, you are positively seething right now. You're adorable. Don't you worry. I think James is a sweetheart as a friend. I'm not interested in the least in him like that. Besides, you're the one he's falling for now, not me." She's still giggling as she finishes up her braid and scoops up her notes and heads off to her own bed.

Hermione doesn't feel adorable at all. In fact, she doesn't know how she feels. She's been here so long now that it feels that her goal isn't so clear in her head anymore. She's horrified that Lily doesn't care for James in that way, and at the same time she's never been happier about anything else. Yet, even though Hermione knows that she needs to get back home - and she does want to return and be with Harry and Ron - the longer she stays here the more she knows that her chances of returning to the life that's really hers are slim at best. And why should she return? a malicious voice inside of her whispers. Why should she return if she knows she's already messed up everything?

It snows on the last day of October, consequently the day before the first Quidditch game of the season.

Hermione wakes up to find the dorm window looking over a blinding white landscape. At first, Hermione thinks she's still dreaming or that her eyes have become overly-sensitive to the sun, until she realizes that it's the rays reflecting off of an unmarred and beautiful white snow.

The castle is rumbling with new life. A buoyant mood that had been all but destroyed when the sick students were transferred to St. Mungo's resurfaces now, and the only conversation that can be heard in the Great Hall that morning is to, "Hurry up and eat so we can go out!"

It's like the field's white coating is more than snow, but rather it's hope. A hope that the sick students will be all right, that the Slytherins aren't as evil as they like to think that they are, and that the future will be as bright as the sunshine reflecting off of the frozen lake. Hermione feels sick knowing that this hope is so very much misplaced.

Remus won't allow Lily and Hermione to stay cooped up that morning. "I love studying as much as you two, and I'm just as behind on my homework as well, but today is tradition. No one's allowed inside on the first day of snowfall."

Lily scoffs. "There's no such rule!"

"Well, there's no such rule against having a life either," Remus says, and then all but pushes Hermione and Lily outside. Hermione has never seen Remus so energetic.

Sirius and James are already outside on their brooms. Hermione vaguely remembers them talking about an early morning practice the previous night, but she can't believe that they actually went through with it. How can they tolerate the winds so high up in this cold weather? She herself has bundled up in the warmest hand-me-down cloak Hogwarts has to offer, which she cast an extra warmth spell on, and she's still chilly.

Hermione is expecting Lily to lead her to the bleachers, where maybe they'll watch the end of the Gryffindor practice, but instead she's hit on the side of the head by a snowball. "What the…" Hermione looks up, expecting Sirius to have chucked it at her from above, but the Gryffindor team isn't anywhere to be seen in the sky. In fact, when Hermione looks around for Lily, she can't see her either.

Students are running everywhere and snowballs are starting to whiz through the air. Hermione is struck again in the shoulder before she can react.

"Get out of the range of fire." Hermione turns her head but James is pushing her to move before she can reply.

"W-what the heck is going on?" Hermione wheezes out by the time they've stopped running. James has pulled her to the nearest tree. From safety, Hermione can see how students have assembled into teams and some are casting spells to create formidable snowy castles, garrisons, igloos – all kinds of modes of protection. Snow is flying high to form these impressive walls of protection and snowballs are soaring every which way. It looks like there's a blizzard waging under the bright cold sun.

James laughs. "Don't you guys have snowball fights at Beauxbatons?"

Hermione gapes up at James for a few minutes before she remembers her cover story. "Well, yes, I suppose, between friends. Nothing on this scale." A silhouette, dark against the white fight, catches Hermione's eyes. Is that Madam Hooch? Keeping score?

"Well, this is more of a ritual than anything else. On the first snowfall of the year all the Houses fight each other in a massive snowball fight. There's never a winner or anything but Madam Hooch keeps an eye out to make sure that no one sends out iceballs or anything. Afterwards, we go in and have hot chocolate and biscuits."

Hermione knows her mouth is still hanging open. Clearly, this ritual has lost its way over the years. It makes her sad to think of this. She can hear everyone laughing, having a good time attacking their fellow students. Nothing says House bonding like attacking the others with compressed snow.

Hermione feels a weight on her hair and looks up to see James smiling at her.

"You have a bunch of snow in your hair," he laughs, and then reaches up again to pat it out of her hair.

Hermione notices how close they're standing, and suddenly her throat constrict. When have they been this close, this isolated, since sneaking into the Restricted Section? She can't think of a single moment.

Hermione realizes that James hadn't meant to lead her here, away from everyone, but he has, and there's no one to notice them or to interrupt them. Hermione can't help but notice how James is smiling down at her. His eyes are looking warmly at her and his smile is too… too infatuated. It pulls Hermione in, even though she realizes at the same time with a sickly dread just how right Lily is; James doesn't like Lily at all, not anymore.

James has stopped patting snow out of her hair. Now his fingers are brushing through the curls and then moving down to Hermione's cheeks. His fingers are cold and wet but they feel good against her skin. Hermione likes the weight of them.

She knows she should push him away, tell him that no, this is not going to happen, ever, but for once Hermione's feelings are winning over. What does it matter? When he's already stopped caring for Lily? Just by being here in this world Hermione has already irreversibly altered the future. She didn't plan on being here, and she never wanted James to shift his focus from Lily to her, but he has and Hermione likes it… and she wants more of his attention.

James must sense that Hermione is losing her internal battle with herself because he starts to lean in closer, and when Hermione doesn't reach out to stop him or push him away, he leans in even more, until their lips are touching.

Hermione lets out a sigh and her eyes flutter shut. In that last moment, Hermione makes a decision she knows she'll never be able to undo: she presses back into the kiss and steps closer, into James' embrace.

The point of no return, Hermione thinks vaguely, as James spreads his arms to welcome her. For the moment, she doesn't care.