There's a strange buzzing aura around the Great Hall the next morning when Hermione and Lily make their way to breakfast. It's the first Sunday of November and there's a tense but excited tremor running through the school: it's the first game of Quidditch Season. Slytherin vs. Gryffindor.
Sirius and James are already at the Gryffindor table, eating like starved castaways. Lily scrunches up her nose in disgust as the two girls sit down.
"Just because you're nervous doesn't mean you're entitled to eat like pigs," Lily says lightly as she reaches for her own food.
Sirius rolls his eyes and keeps attacking his breakfast but James startles. He looks over to Hermione and Hermione swears he blushes but the tint of pink could also be from the adrenaline of the impending game. He gives her a small wink and goes back to his food, though with more dignity this time.
They haven't told anyone what happened between them yet. At least, Hermione is fairly certain James hasn't told Sirius, otherwise Sirius would definitely have made a big show of it this morning, and Hermione hasn't told Lily either. She knows she should, sooner rather than later, but she doesn't even know what there is to tell yet. Does a kiss means that they're going out? Or that they're just kissing friends? Or what if James hated the kiss and it's never going to happen again? Hermione slumps down on the bench and massages her temples. She feels like Ginny obsessing over her boyfriends. Other than the incident at the Yule Ball, Hermione has never let romance get the best of her.
"Besides," Sirius is saying to Lily when Hermione focuses on the conversation again, "we're not nervous in the least. We're bloody excited. Opening game against Slytherin? We'll crush them! Baby brother, here I come." Sirius laughs, and the sound is demonic to Hermione's ears; her arm hairs stand up at her sudden chill.
"I didn't like the sound of that at all," Lily says to Hermione after the boys have left the table, their team in tow to get ready for the game. Games are always early in the morning, as no one ever knows how long they'll last. Hermione has read in Hogwarts: A History that the shortest game ever recorded at Hogwarts was 2 minutes long, while the slowest lasted well into Monday evening and all classes for the day had to be suspended because all students and professors were still on the pitch.
"They're making it personal," Lily continues, "and they shouldn't. It's going to get ugly and they'll get in trouble."
The game, however, is more than just 'ugly.' It's, literally, a bloodbath from the first five minutes of game play. Sirius begins the game of violence with a Bludger Backbeat, a back-handed swing, which Regulus manages to avoid, only barely. It was like both sides had been waiting for that opening, like a recited dance, and after that the game is a mess of foul attacks, penalties and just Madam Hooch blowing on her whistle and yelling, "Blurting!" "Blocking!" "Blagging!" "Foul!"
Slytherin and Gryffindor both lose a player to blatant unsportsmanlike behavior, at which the crowd goes wild, booing and hissing the decision. All players on both teams are being unsportsmanlike! Hermione knows the expulsions are meant as a warning to the other team, but it doesn't work as intended.
Shortly afterwards, the Slytherins perform a Parkin's Pincer and their third Chaser collides so powerfully with Gryffindor's Chaser that she falls off her broom. Madam Hooch catches her before she hits the ground, but the impact still sprained or broke her arm and the girl is sent to the infirmary.
Gryffindor gets a penalty shot for that and James scores ten points for Gryffindor. The score is 50-40 for Gryffindor and only through foul points. No one is playing Quidditch on the pitch. Hermione watches Sirius send every Bludger he finds towards Regulus, invalidating him from searching for the Snitch, and Hermione swears that at one point the Gryffindor Seeker is holding a Bludger Bat – is he even looking for the Snitch at all?
As the minutes pass, Hermione's anger mounts until she's shouting along with the rest of the spectators for them to, "Get their bloody act together!" She can't believe Madam Hooch is allowing the teams to get away with such game play, although she spends most of her time blowing her whistle.
After half an hour of the game, Professor McGonagall walks onto the pitch. At first, no one sees her until she casts a powerful accio on the Quaffle and it goes flying to her. The Chasers are so busy trying to beat each other up that no one even notices the Quaffle missing from the game.
Madam Hooch blows furiously on her whistle until finally the players stop.
"Every player on this field," Professor McGonagall's voice rings out loudly over the pitch, "in Dumbledore's office. This instant!"
"They had it coming. It would serve them right if they were banned for the season. They'll be lucky if they don't get expelled! What were they thinking?" Lily has been on a rant for the last fifteen minutes. As soon as the players had landed and gone off to Dumbledore's office, Lily, Hermione, Remus and Peter had tried to make their way to the gargoyle statue as quickly as possible, though they had been hindered by the mass of students heading back up to the castle.
"They weren't thinking," Remus mumbles. He looks much calmer than Lily, who's been pacing the halls, but Hermione sees how his eyes flicker uncertainly from side to side. He's just as worried as Lily.
Hermione herself feels restless just standing there, but thankfully she doesn't have to worry about imaging up worse-case scenarios since Lily is so helpfully listing them all out loud for them.
Eventually, the gargoyle statue growls to life and swings around, disappearing into the wall to reveal a staircase. It doesn't take long before Professor Slughorn appears, followed by his team of Slytherins. Some look bashful, some have swollen faces and black and purple bruises, but most look angry.
The Slytherins are followed by Professor McGonagall and her Gryffindor team, although mostly all of them look like they've just received the worst spanking of their lives. James and Sirius are at the end of the row. James grins when he sees Hermione and slips an arm over her shoulders before she can protest and pulls her close.
Lily is too furious to notice. "What kind of behavior was that?" she hisses, trying not to attract Professor McGonagall's attention, who must be in quite a state at the behavior displayed today. "If you wanted to get back at Slytherin, you should have played a clean game, not stoop to their level. Slytherin would have been humiliated to be defeated honorably…"
"Oh you can shove off with your honorable defeats," Sirius snaps. Unlike James, he looks seriously pissed off. Hermione wonders if his ego is bruised by the fact that he wasn't able to land a devastating blow on Regulus. "Besides," he adds quickly when a look of pure horrifying indignity crosses Lily's face, "no one was expelled. We got a slap on the wrist. "No more of this unsportsmanlike behavior," or we'll be banned from Quidditch for the rest of our years here."
"You guys were lucky." Hermione agrees with Lily although she can't deny being glad at not having to be the voice of reason, for once.
Sirius doesn't look like he considers himself lucky at all. "We only have a year and a half left to go. It would have been a fair price to pay to have given those damn Slytherins a taste of their own medicine."
Professor McGonagall leaves them at the portrait of the Fat Lady. She looks angrier than Hermione's ever seen her, and she wonders if James and Sirius know about her Quidditch incident and how much she hates foul play.
Hermione expects to find the common room one of two ways: a dejected atmosphere or angry resentment for having botched what should have been the most exciting day of the year. She does not expect to walk in to loud, excited talking and even some laughing.
Everyone is gathered in a circle around something, or someone, in the center of the room. James elbows his way through the first layer of students and Hermione, following close behind, recognizes one of the girls immediately: Miss Bailey, the first girl to get sick. The two other girls beside her, Hermione can only assume, must be the others who fell sick on the same day.
"No," Bailey is saying, laughing. "They couldn't say what was wrong with us. We just started feeling better and they had to discharge us."
They look healthy, positively glowing in the spotlight. Everyone around them is talking at the same time, asking questions, wanting to know how the others are doing, how long it'll take before they'll get better.
The girls shake their heads, trying to look sad for their fellow students, but it's obvious they're too happy to be back to feel much sorrow right now. "Some are starting to get better, but the ones who fell sick last are still in bad shape. We're just thankful to be out of there, to be honest."
"Although from the sounds of it, we have so much homework to catch up on!" Everyone laughs when Bailey says this and she practically glows at the reaction.
Hermione elbows herself out of the crowd. "This doesn't make any sense. Why would they suddenly fall sick only to get better with no treatment or reason?"
They move to the back of the common room where it's a bit more isolated, though not much quieter.
"Dark magic," Sirius says. "It's got to be Dark magic. There's no other explanation."
"But Dark magic doesn't make any sense!" Hermione insists. "It's meant to control others and to make them suffer. It's meant as a means to an end. What end has the caster obtained? What has changed that made the instigator release these girls, specifically?"
"Maybe he, or she, can't reach them in St. Mungo's?" Lily suggests. "And the effects of their spell or potion are wearing off because they're out of his zone of control?"
"Maybe they've gotten bored? No one else has fallen sick in over a month, after all."
"And most of the girls who lost their magical powers have been saying that it's been coming back," Remus adds.
"Mine hasn't," Lily says. "I try every morning, hoping… but it hasn't come back. If anything, it's gotten worse."
"Maybe someone really does have a bone to pick with you, Evans," Sirius tries to joke, but even he doesn't seem to be into it and his eyes give away his concern.
They stand there, in gloomy silence while the others in the common room start yelling about a celebration. At least the arrival of the new students has effectively distracted everyone from the humiliating, aborted Quidditch match.
"I won't be able to get any studying done in these conditions," Lily grumbles as everyone starts cheering loudly and chanting, Party! Party! "Want to head to the library, Gabi?"
"Sure." Hermione still has two assignments due for the next day that she hasn't finished yet. She turns to James. "Do you want to tag along?"
"Nah, I think I'll stick around and party some."
Sirius and Remus have already headed off to join the mass of Gryffindors hurrying about to get things ready for the party.
"I think Sirius and I may have to make an impromptu visit to Hogsmeade for some supplies," James laughs. Then suddenly he's leaning down and whispering in her ear, "Meet me here tonight? After everyone's gone to bed. Dress warm."
Hermione pulls back, blushing. "O-okay," she agrees, her mind fuzzy at having him so close. They haven't been alone or close since yesterday morning and their kiss in the snow, and her heart speeds up at what James has planned for them.
It's a long day in the library, but it's an even longer evening waiting for everyone to head off to bed. Thankfully, the celebration started so early in the morning that by the time evening rolls around mostly everyone is exhausted. Most of the students even take the party outside for some drunken snowball fights and when they stumble upstairs they head straight to their dorms to pass out. Still, the last of the more resistant partiers doesn't head up to bed until midnight and Hermione has to pretend to be interested in her book about Goblin conquests and romance (she just found it lying around the common room) until then.
James comes bounding down the stairs only a few minutes after everyone has gone to bed. Hermione suspects he's been in his room with the map out to make himself look like he has perfect intuition.
"So what do you have planned?" Hermione asks but James only grins and takes her hand. He has the invisibility cloak draped over his other arm.
When they exit the common room, he pulls her close to him and kisses her. It's a much more passionate kiss than their first one, more pressure, and then James is parting his lips and deepening the kiss and Hermione lets him until she realizes that they're standing in the middle of the hallway, snogging, after curfew where anyone could just walk up to them and punish them.
"We should put the invisibility cloak on now, don't you think?" she whispers after she's broken away from the kiss.
"Hmm?" James' eyes are still closed and he licks his lips slowly. "What's that?"
"The cloak. You do have something planned, don't you?"
James finally comes back to his senses and the smile he gives her is loose, like he doesn't quite have his facial muscles back under control yet. "Oh, right, yes. Come on."
He throws the invisibility cloak over the both of them and Hermione thinks, for one crazy moment, that he's going to take her to the Restricted Section to continue their research and she feels like a fool for thinking he had anything romantic planned for them.
Thankfully, James steers away from the direction of the library and it doesn't take long for Hermione to know where he's taking her. Since she's not supposed to know any of the school's secrets she does her best to look confused when James stops in front of a portrait of a gigantic bowl of fruit, takes off the invisibility cloak, and starts to tickle the pear. She tries her best to look astonished when the pear suddenly turns into a door handle.
"This better not be another secret passage to Hogsmeade." Hermione tries not to laugh when James turns around and looks at her with a smug smile.
"I have more than that up my sleeve. Don't you have secrets at your school?"
Hermione shrugs. How should she know? "Not that I know of." She lets herself be led into the kitchens.
For a few seconds, the whole kitchen is dark and silent. Hermione has a wild thought that James is about to cook up a romantic meal himself and they'll conjure up a few candles and… then the lights turn on and a dozen bleary-eyed House Elves blink up at them.
Hermione's good mood suddenly comes crashing down. They've woken up the House Elves! Of course, the poor things must have been getting some much-needed shuteye, and here they are waking them up and now they're going to feel obligated to serve them.
A part of Hermione wants to hand them all the clothing she has, and then James', but then that would just leave them both naked. Hermione's face grows hot at the idea. She doesn't think she's ready for that just quite yet.
The House Elves are clamoring around James. "James Potter, sir, good evening! What will James Potter be desiring tonight?"
"Actually, why don't James and I make our own snacks tonight? You guys can all go back to sleep if you'd like?" Hermione smiles at them, but they all just turn as if surprised to see someone with James and then, when her words register, they look confused. A few look putout.
James laughs. "I think you've insulted them, Granger."
Hermione bites her tongue before she can go off on a rant about how Hogwarts mistreats its House Elves, how overworked they are without any individual freedom whatsoever.
"We would never treat James Potter, sir, so badly," one of the House Elves finally says, his tone implying that Hermione is the rudest person to their beloved James Potter. So Hermione lets herself be seated while the House Elves go about making them food.
She pushes down her activist self if only for the reason that she doesn't want to influence James more than she already has. The wellbeing and work rights of House Elves were not exactly a hot topic issue in the mid-1970s, Hermione knows. Heck, it wasn't in her time either, until she started talking to everyone about it, and even then most cared too much about their way of life to listen to her. Hermione knows that Harry and Ron would be rolling their eyes at her right now.
Harry and Ron.
The thought of her best friends stabs her like a needle jabbing her chest from the inside. She tries not to think about what reality she'll have to adapt to when she returns but they continually slip into her thoughts anyway, and the longer she stays here the guiltier she feels for not trying harder to return home. It's getting harder and harder to remind herself that as great as the Marauders are they're not her true friends. More importantly, they're not hers to be friends with.
"Hermione?"
There's a distant voice calling her, and for a second, Hermione thinks it's Harry, that she's sitting next to Harry and that this has just been one long, beautifully stressful daydream. But she's looking into clear light brown eyes with flecks of green. This isn't Harry, but it's not Harry's dad either. Not yet, at least. His hands are on hers, and it's then that she realizes that she has been wringing her fingers. Her thumb throbs faintly from having been bent a bit too far back.
Her mind feels foggy and heavy and it's hard to focus on what James is saying.
"Are you all right?"
Hermione should say no, that she's not fine, that she's tired and needs to go back to bed – tomorrow is Monday, after all – and then she should distance herself from the Marauders, do some damage control and try to steer events back on the right track in hopes of minimizing the changes done to the past, and then find a way home as quickly as possible.
But Hermione isn't quite that strong, and she can feel the tension inside of her that tugs her towards James and that makes her lean forward and press her forehead on his shoulder and let his arms pull her in closer. She likes the strong feeling of his arms as he holds her against him. She feels safe, anchored down and protected. Like this, Hermione calms down and feels her brain clear. Whatever happens, she thinks, she won't regret her decision. She doesn't have it in her to.
"I'm fine," she finally answers. "I just started thinking about a friend of mine. She's very big on House Elf independence. I guess I just got a bit homesick thinking of her, is all."
"House Elf independence?" James echoes and Hermione can practically feel him smile. "Now there's a funny notion."
Hermione is about to pull away and demand to know what's just so funny about it when the House Elves return with their food: leftover roast chicken from dinner, sausages, rolls, pastries and a jug full of what Hermione suspects to be pumpkin juice. They bring it all to them in two neatly-packed baskets. This is not the first time James has come to the kitchen for some takeout.
Hermione takes one of the baskets from a House Elf and makes eye contact with her. "Thank you."
The House Elf looks away immediately. Next to her, Hermione hears James mumble out an awkward, "Yeah, thanks." The House Elves shuffle their feet and mutter something about being delighted to serve them and then scurry off, no doubt back to bed.
James grins at her. "A friend of yours is interested in House Elf rights, huh?" Hermione knows she's been caught out, but instead of rolling his eyes at her cause like so many have James just keeps grinning at her. Hermione doesn't know where to look so she smiles back awkwardly. No one has ever looked at her like this, like she's awesome and amazing.
"You're one wacky lady," James says as he comes closer. He leans down and slowly, softly, his hand comes up to frame her jaw, this thumb moving back and forth against her cheek.
They stand like that, holding baskets of food and kissing until James finally pulls away. His eyes are glazed over and his lips are red and shining. "Come on, it's getting a bit late."
James throws the invisibility cloak over them again and grabs the two baskets while Hermione takes the jug. He leads her outside and Hermione is glad that James thought of reminding her to dress warmly. The night air is cold, but it's a dry kind of weather and it feels nice, especially since it's a calm night with no freezing wind.
The sky is completely void of clouds and riddled with stars. The half-moon is shining bright and they can see the whole white grounds stretching out before them.
James takes them to the frozen lake where he finally takes off the invisibility cloak and puts the baskets on the ground. Then, he pulls out his wand and conjures up a thick blanket that he spreads out on the ground.
They sit there and pull out the food and stare out at the frozen lake, the ice glowing from the moon's reflection and there's something so romantic about Hogwarts at night, with the stars out and the calm silence.
They eat the chicken with their fingers and James feeds her one of the oysters and then leans in until Hermione lets herself fall onto her back. He hovers there above her for a second and then he kisses her. They kiss like that, languidly, for what feels like hours, their lips slick with chicken grease.
After a while, James rolls off of her and onto his back by her side, taking her hand in the same movement and twining their fingers together.
"Do you bring all the girls out here?" Hermione jokes lightly after they've been looking at the stars for a little while. They've barely said three words since they've been out. It isn't awkward, but Hermione feels like she should say something now, after all that kissing.
James laughs. "No, actually, I've never brought any girl anywhere. I suppose I would have liked to bring Lily at one point, but that's all in the past now."
Hermione really didn't want to have to think about Lily now of all times, but she supposed she did ask for it.
"Actually, Sirius gave me the idea."
"Sirius?" Hermione laughs. "I didn't know you'd told them. About us, I mean."
"I didn't! He just told me last night after Quidditch practice that I should bring you to the kitchens and then we should have a picnic out by the lake. He said it was very romantic. Sirius using the word romantic… I was baffled."
Hermione laughs and grins. "Even Sirius has many layers. There's more to him than even you'd suspect, I think."
Hermione sees James turn his head toward her out of the corner of her eye. "You know, these days I've been thinking that maybe you know Sirius even better than I do. Should I be jealous?"
"No! Goodness no. Your best friend only has eyes for someone else."
James sits up. "Now you're just yanking my chain. Sirius in love? He'd have told me. Who's the girl?"
Hermione shrugs and begins to put away the food. She regrets having said anything. She doesn't know if Sirius or Remus want to tell their friends yet. She feels like smacking herself for being so comfortable around James and letting that slip. "I mean, I don't really know. It's just a hunch."
She must sound convincing enough because James lies back down, seemingly in a trance. "I wonder who it could be," he mumbles to himself.
"Well, stop your wondering. I'm sure he'll tell you when he's ready. We should head back. I'd like at least an hour or two of sleep before classes tomorrow."
James pulls Hermione down by the arm until she's half-sprawled over his chest. He kisses her softly three times on the lips. "Let's just stay here forever," he whispers.
How tempting, Hermione thinks. If only I could.
Hermione eventually manages to convince James that someone will find them, sooner rather than later, and his brilliant plan will be foiled, so he reluctantly stands and uses the Vanishing spell on the blanket and carries the baskets as they make their way back to the common room.
The common room is a mess from the party, and Hermione is furious at her Housemates for having left the place in such a state for the House Elves to clean up.
"Even with magic, people are still lazy," she hisses. She brings out her wand. "Come on, give me a hand."
It takes them all of fifteen minutes to stack all of the garbage in one neat pile in the center of the room and to Scourgify the mess made in other places. Hermione puts the two baskets and the jug of juice by the rest of the dishes and garbage.
"There, now they'll just have to pick everything up and move on to their other duties," Hermione says, feeling rather proud of themselves.
James pulls her in and kisses her. "Mmm, I can't stop kissing you," he says. "What if you came back up with me to my—"
"I don't think so," Hermione cuts him off, half-laughing and half-horrified James would even think such a thing. In the same dorm as Sirius and Remus and – the thought sends a shiver through her – Peter? "Good night, James."
"Good night, Granger."
James doesn't let go of Hermione to let her leave for another five minutes.
In bed, Hermione feels the rush of adrenaline more clearly and she finds herself unable to fall asleep. She relives through the night again – the fresh air, the black and white sky, the food, James. She can still feel the pressure of his lips and the weight of him against her. Her body hums with pleasure at the memory even though her brain is starting to catch up with the knowledge that this happiness won't last long.
Just a week, Hermione thinks to herself, deluded by happiness and love. She'll allow herself another week to indulge in her feelings, to fool herself into believing she's allowed to have this, that it's not wrong or dangerous. After that week, she'll double her efforts on returning home and she won't think about anything else.