James exited the classroom at the end of the day, watching the sniffling Hermione carefully, as if sizing up his options. Only he and Hermione had chosen Muggle Studies – his mother had persuaded him to drop Divination – and their class had been let out early because it was the second week of term and the teacher had papers to mark from over the summer, so he and Hermione would have the next three quarters of an hour to themselves. "James?" d she said after a moment, and he stopped walking to look back at her. "Do you fancy Lily more than you let on nowadays?"

He sighed and took her by the elbow, leading her down the corridor and looking at her slightly exasperatedly. It was only then that he realised that she was both new to the school and his group of friends, and he shook himself. It honestly felt like she had been there for the past seven years, as if he had known her all of his life, and a part of him felt like he knew her more than any of the others did. "I've been chasing her for the past seven years, I must've fancied her a lot," he evaded her question.

"You didn't answer me properly," she replied, and he sighed.

"Yes, I think I still like Lily," he admitted. "I'm not sure anymore. If Remus likes her, too, I'm not going to stop him from having someone who cares for him as more than a friend, who doesn't care about his… err…" His face heated up and it was then he remembered that she didn't know as much as the other girls and he blushed heavily. "Err… he gets sick a lot and people have taken to call it his condition?" he offered, but it came out as more of a question than an explanation.

Hermione gave a small noise of question and stared at him for a moment, but eventually she shrugged and looked away. "OK, then," she sounded a little victorious but then she paused. "But doesn't Remus like Lily?" she persisted, and James felt a rising monster grow inside of him as she looked at him imploringly.

He snapped, "I owe no explanation to you, Granger, so stay out of my business. I think you are the one who owes us an explanation." His face was red, his tone was snappish, and she recoiled as if he had struck her before straightening and resting her hands on her hips, glaring up at him in a cold and demanding manner that scared him just a little.

"If you must know what happened the night I was tortured, James, then here you are," she snarled. "My friends and I were on the run from Voldemort because he was after us because we were all powerful enough to potentially bring him down. Snatchers, who wandered the forests and barely-travelled paths looking for us, captured us and took us to Malfoy Manor. I, being the only girl and the most 'vulnerable' of the group, was chosen to be tortured for information first because I was the know-it-all, the one who knew the most. They wanted to know where we had gotten the sword of Godric Gryffindor. Harry had drawn it from the Sorting Hat that Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix, had given them. I managed to lie and tell them that we found it, that it was a fake, and that we hadn't stolen anything from any of the Death Eaters."

"I heard you screaming," James admitted, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked at the ground. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "I didn't mean to sound so harsh. You're my friend – you deserve an explanation more than anyone. But I can't give that to you – it's not my secret to tell, and it's only when we can really trust you that we can tell you. Remus is insecure and for that reason you can't pester him or ask him about his secrets," she gave a small smile of acknowledgement before looking at the ground.

His voice rang in her head over and over again. And it's only when we can really trust you that we can really tell you. It hurt more than she'd care to admit and he seemed to realise what the emotions in her eyes told and his eyes widened, hastily repeating the conversation in his head. "No – let me rephrase that," he hastily said and she raised her eyebrows, looking hurt more than he'd think she would have. Maybe she felt the same way, that she'd been there long enough to earn their trust, and he admitted to himself that it felt like he trusted her, too. "We do trust you. It's just that…"

She cut him off. "No, I understand," with that, she turned on her heel and left the corridor, leaving him staring after her numbly.

"Alright, Miss Granger," McGonagall instructed, her hands braced on Hermione's shoulders and her face set. "This will take years of trails and hardships and I do not even expect you to get this right – no Animagus has been produced from Hogwarts in eleven years, and I admit that that has not been due to the student's competence, skill, or valiance, but to my own foolish assumptions." Hermione nodded, looking shaken at her Professor's revelations, and straightened up, taking a step back and raising her eyes up to the teacher's. "Now, first you must find a place within you – a place where you can turn your back on reality and escape hardships to a peace that you have mutually remembered – now, centre yourself. I can only instruct you so much."

Hermione rolled her shoulders and looked up at McGonagall, her hazel eyes glazed over and her body perfectly relaxed. "It could be a place where you are at perfect peace, a place where you can relax, a place where everything makes sense. Miss Granger, can you see it?" She paused and took her shoulders again. "You have found it."

This was true. Hermione was standing in a forest, the grass a perfect shade of green, the sky a brilliant blue with several, perfect clouds drifting across, seemingly dancing with the beautiful sky and the barely seen moon. The trees stretched tall for what seemed like miles, large enough to shield her from the outside and provide little view of the stars that seemed to be brightening, darkening the skies as it did so. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, a small and peaceful smile playing with her lips, and then she nodded. "I can see a forest – it's…"

"There is no need to describe it to me, Miss Granger," McGonagall's voice cut her off, and a faint blush flooded her cheeks as she nodded somewhat sheepishly. "Now, can you see something else? Perhaps an animal, racing towards you?" Hermione looked around in the clearing, her eyes squinted in concentration. She had just enough time left in her small forest clearing to see the doe creeping into the clearing in front of her. Her eyes widened in shock and then she was standing in the middle of the Transfiguration as her Professor beamed proudly down at her. "Well? What was the animal? What will you turn into?" It seemed that McGonagall was just as excited as she was, and had made no effort to hide how she felt.

"A doe," she murmured; a blush flooded back onto her cheeks as she realised what this meant. It had been three weeks since McGonagall had agreed to teach her the remainder of her Animagus training, and she was much further than she had been in her time. This was mainly thanks to the fact that the McGonagall that had taught her before had been frazzled and busy with the war efforts, and hadn't really been focusing on her training. But she chose not to mention this. But the doe meant a lot more than she thought it would; now that she was in the Marauders' times, it couldn't mean Harry, unless it was some imprint of her past left with her to remind her or torture her. Or it could be the symbolic representation of her newfound friendship with James, Lily, and the rest of the Marauders and their friends. Somehow, something didn't seem to be in place – she didn't have all of the information, and she had always had all the information she needed. Hermione made a mental note to herself to visit the library after Astronomy. "It was a doe," she repeated, louder than before, and the blush intensified. "I – my friend's father's Patronus and Animagus form was a stag, and his was the same. One of my new friends in this time is his father and I'm conflicted on whether it reflects my arrival here and my friendship with him or who I remember and love from my time."

McGonagall's sharp eyes snapped to her face and sized her up. "Your Patronus form was not the same before?" Hermione shook her head. "Well, the form of a Patronus usually changes when something changes in one's heart, body, soul, or mind – indeed, a lot has changed within you since your arrival here, Miss Granger. This might be the reason of your change, but why this has happened is a loss to me. I think the only person who can answer that question is you."

Hermione felt a smile touch her lips as the Transfiguration offered her a small grin and waved her over to the desk. "You are a remarkably knowledgeable young witch, but there is something I would like to warn you with – you are not yet wise. Wisdom comes from your knowledge, yes, and yours is extensive, but it is how you use that knowledge that makes you wise. You have the potential to be a very wise and powerful witch, but you must overcome your fears and face them to become what you should be." She paused. "You have the full potential, but I fear that, if you do not act upon this potential, then you will become the average pupil that leaves these doors every year. Many of them are powerful and have acquired an extensive knowledge over the years – yet none of them have a purpose or use for it."

She nodded as McGonagall sat down and folded her hands. "And how do I face my fears, I suppose? I'm all for doing that – Voldemort and his Death Eaters are what I fear the most, aren't they?"

"I suggest you think about what scares you most over the next week, Miss Granger," the Professor paused and looked piercingly at her. "By our next lesson I expect you to have changed your answer to something that is more appropriate to you and not to the general wizard or witch. Good evening, Miss Granger," she dismissed her with a wave of her hand and Hermione obediently left the room, in the general direction of the library – she didn't think she would be able to face James or Lily for a while now.

I know it's short, but there was little that I needed to happen in this chapter - James needs to make a mistake between them and she will distance herself from them for weeks, and this will leave her confused as to why her Animagus form changed if he didn't trust nor like her. Hermione is a very independent and secure girl - but she's rather insecure when it comes to her family and her problems with people she loves. I'm sorry if it seems to short, but I'll try and work on it in the future.

Brian1972, even though I appreciate your review, your points are rather flame-like. Yes, the Floo network can work any distance, but due to the extensive time between a place to place, it takes longer the father away the place happens to be. The fact that Potter Manor is close to his flat IS significant, and for this reason your review has irritated me - I'm glad to fix my mistakes, but this mistake is pointless and does not generally factor within the plotline or the story itself. Your review was as insignificant as my 'mistake' was - and, anyway, it wasn't a mistake. I do hope that you continue reading despite my insignificant mistakes and do not judge me for them.

Guest, I absolutely love Fred and George! *fan-girl squeal* I had planned to have the warning there, but I wasn't sure who was going to deliver it and that was eating at me. I was reading a fic with them factoring as the main characters and I'd seen that mostly the messages carried between times factor Harry or Ron, and I decided to do something that hadn't been done often enough - so I introduced Fred and George as the messengers! Yay! I know it's not a main role, or even significant, but I had to have them in this story. I hope you like it.

Generally, I love my reviews and their owners. I hope you love it as much as I love you all, and I hope the story is up to usual standards - keep reading!

Love,

Marlene