Standing in Dumbledore's office had never been as difficult as it was in that moment. Hermione took a deep breath, adjusting her torn and mussed robes as she analysed the office, each tear stained face looking up at her full of despair, grief and want. She found herself fidgeting under their expectant glances and instead turned her gaze to the remaining three Marauders in the corner, each one bent and looking lost in a room full of people for the first time in seven years. She had never felt as needful as she felt in that moment – it took every ounce of the self-restraint she possessed not to run to them and hold them close, to take away the pain so shining on their tear streaked faces. But she couldn't, not thanks to the niggling voice in the back of her head. It's your fault. Don't make it worse.

"Hermione," said Dumbledore seriously, and the voices in the office ceased as each face turned to his. His voice was an incessant one, quiet and silky, almost as if he didn't want to speak at all. "You must tell us the full story, start to finish, and your friends must know the truth just as much as we here do. Voldemort is getting stronger; you must tell us all you know." He cleared his throat and straightened, his voice raising. "For those who do not know, our very own Miss Hermione Granger is the most instrumental key we have to winning this war. I suggest that each and every one of you listen to what she has to say before you make any judgment on her case."

"Y-yes, sir," she said stiffly, sinking back into her chair. "Alright, for the benefit of those in the room that weren't here before, I'll just start from the beginning so that everyone understands."

James' brow was furrowed and he looked confused, his hands clenched in his lap in frustration as his hazel eyes searched her indifferent face; Remus was clinging onto his brothers' arms like his lifelines but he still managed to look at her through broken amber eyes, almost as if questioning whether he knew her or not; Sirius' eyebrows had raised ever so slightly, his fingers tightening on the arms of his chair as he fought to keep himself sitting; Lily looked hesitant to cease her conversation with Marlene, who looked pale and white in the face; Mary and Benjy Fenwick were perched on the rug in front of the fire, warming themselves up as if hoping that the fire would leap out of the hearth and claim them; Fabian and Gideon were sitting on either side of Alice and Frank; Alice was perched in Frank's lap, clutching onto him.

These young people had experienced the losses of war. Little did they know that war only got worse.

"It all stars with the simple truth," said Hermione quietly. "Lord Voldemort's name is Tom Marvolo Riddle. He was an orphan whom no one understood, whose parents were untrue. His father was a muggle who his mother used a love potion on to make him fall in love with her. Once they were married and had Tom on the way, she stopped using the love potions, sure that the man loved her even without the potions now, or that his honour would make him stay with them to support her and the baby. She was wrong. His father left and his mother, being a direct descendant from Salazar Slytherin, was kicked out of the family for mating with a muggle – she had her baby in a small pub in Little Hangleton. Merope Gaunt, Tom's mother, died in childbirth with her son and he was sent to a muggle orphanage, no one knowing that he was just as magic as his mother was.

"He blamed himself for his mother's birth because the other children in the orphanage blamed him. He became cruel and cold as a young child and tortured the other children for fun, using magic – all of the staff and children were afraid of him, so when Albus Dumbledore came to their orphanage claiming to be a professor looking for any anomalies they led him straight to Tom. Tom was brought to Hogwarts, became a Slytherin and fashioned himself a new name. Tom Marvolo Riddle became Lord Voldemort – if you rearrange the letters in his name, it becomes 'I am Lord Voldemort'.

"After Lord Voldemort graduated, he rose to power and began murdering muggleborns, muggles, purebloods and halfbloods alike. Anyone who defied him fell to him and his Death Eaters. Shortly after this year, perhaps in the year 1979, Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape both heard a prophecy concerning Lord Voldemort's downfall," Hermione sucked in a deep breath and let her eyes flutter shut, imagining the same mystified voice leaping from her own tongue.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… born to those who have thrice defied, just as the seventh month dies… the Dark Lord shall mark him as his equal but the boy will have power the Dark Lord knows not… neither can live while the other survives…" she took a deep breath and sat down, eyes filling with tears.

"This prophecy could only relate to two young boys born at the end of July. Harry James Potter, born 31st July 1980 to James Potter and his wife Lily Evans, along with Neville Frank Longbottom, born 30th July 1980 to Frank Longbottom and his wife Alice Prewett," she could hear the panicked voices throughout the room, but she couldn't see them; her eyes had fluttered shut as her fingers tightened on the arm rests.

"But Voldemort knew which boy he would target. The other one would be taken care of later on. Now, when Lord Voldemort decided to murder the boys, both were a little over one year old and their families were young and new. Lily and James Potter were targeted first, with their son believed to be the boy to vanquish the Dark Lord. Frank and Alice Longbottom were only attacked once Voldemort fell for the first time.

"Dumbledore had warned both families and sent them into hiding under a complex spell called the Fidelius Charm. It meant that only one person held the secret of where those people were and only that person could give away the information. Voldemort could have his nose pressed up against their kitchen window and he wouldn't know that they were there."

Lily's voice broke through after a moment. "But… that's a good thing, isn't it?"

Hermione's voice quivered. "No, no it's not, Lily. It was far from it, because Lily and James Potter put their trust in the wrong person. There had been a leak in the Order's information ever since your seventh year but no one was sure who to trust. The Marauders trusted each other, a little too much in some cases. The Potters came up with a plan. They would publicly declare that Sirius Black was their secret keeper and have Sirius go into hiding, fooling the Death Eaters. No one would know that young Peter Pettigrew was the secret keeper, the only one they wouldn't expect. Peter was a small, unnoticeable fellow who trailed after them – most believed that he was only there because he wanted to be there and they thought it nice to have another 'follower'. But Peter was named the secret keeper and the world believed that it was Sirius.

"But that was where things went horribly wrong. Peter Pettigrew was the leak in the Order. I used to think that it was because he was weak and eager for powerful friends. Now that I know… he wasn't like that. He was scared and afraid. But it didn't soften the blow. He sold them to Voldemort. He told Voldemort how to get into the Potters' home and then, later, blamed the whole thing on Sirius so that he could hide away and pretend that he hadn't betrayed his brothers. But he did, and the whole world believed it was an innocent person.

"Voldemort crashed into Godric's Hollow, the Potters' home, on Halloween 1981, looking to murder Harry Potter and his family so that his downfall could never occur. But prophecies cannot be prevented. It's not possible. And, because he had only heard the beginning of the prophecy through his double agent Severus Snape, he was not afraid to charge them down and attempt to destroy the Potter family. James, upon seeing Voldemort's arrival, sent Lily and his child upstairs. I can still remember his voice from Harry's memories… I will never, as long as I live, forget how they sounded in their last moments."

She choked and wrapped her arms around herself, shrinking into the back of the chair. "It became so difficult to know what you would go through, having met you and realised that you're as much as my family as the others back home - you all mean so much to me now that - now that I know you personally and now that every night I hear you screaming and crying and calling for each other and I can do nothing until the time comes.

"James... Lily... Sirius... Remus... Marlene... Alice... Frank... Fabian... Gideon... Mary... Cassandra... Dorcas... Albus... Moody... Dorea... Charlus... I can tell each and every person in this room how they die, when they die, and where they die. Whether or not they go down fighting, heroes, or whether they surrendered when they were needed most. I can tell each and every person in this room about their children's futures and the horrors they will face in the future. I can tell each and every person in this room just how much pain they will suffer. But then I remember how it's nothing compared to the amount that the future will suffer from."

Hermione felt an arm wrap securely around her shoulder and she sank back into the welcome embrace. It didn't surprise her in the slightest that Frank was the owner of this arm, and, as he tugged her closer, she couldn't have felt more safe and warm. But the weight of her knowledge weighed down on her more than ever.

Dumbledore was leaning forward, taking her hands. "I think it's best for you to tell us the simple things, like our futures before you go into the full picture. It would be easier on you. The weight wouldn't be so difficult."

"No!" said Sirius loudly, standing up. "She has to tell us about what happens to James!"

"I'm going to, Sirius," she replied after a moment of staring at him. "But it doesn't make it any less painful for the people here if you speed it up, does it?"

Sucking in a deep breath, Hermione continued. "Voldemort himself killed James. You were wandless, James, you had no knowledge of wandless magic. You'd been in hiding for the past year and a half, you had no knowledge of the new spells they'd invented - you were no longer an Auror or an active member of this Order. But you still threw yourself between Voldemort and your family, knowing that you'd be killed in the attempt. You seemed to dodge the spells for a good ten minutes, but eventually you were hit inbetween the eyes and killed.

"Lily... you died only minutes after James did. You threw yourself between Voldemort and your soon, so broken, so brave - your husband had just been killed and you'd witnessed it all, but yet you had the strength to go on. I'd admired you for years as a brave and strong woman, but now that I've met you... I know you're so much more than that. Voldemort gave you the chance to step aside, that he'd spare you if you just let him kill your son. But you wouldn't. You had a chance at a longer life, but you refused it because of your love - when you died, you saved Harry's life. Your love combined with your husband's put a shield between Harry and Voldemort that he couldn't break through, and thus, when the Killing Curse was sent toward Harry, it rebounded and struck Voldemort instead of its intended target.

"Marlene, Dorcas, Cassandra, Benjy and Mary all died at the same time, in the same fight. Each one of you was murdered by Voldemort himself, because you were five of our strongest fighters and the most active members in both the Auror department and the Order. He killed Dorcas first, in the middle of a battle on the Bones' property. He managed to torture you for a good ten minutes and leave you to bleed to death in the attic before anyone found you. Benjy was next - he jumped in front of a killing curse intended for Albus and saved his life. Mary was caught unaware trying to get the three Bones children out of the house and was killed from behind, along with the children. Cassandra was one of the most famous people of the era. She's an instrumental part of the Order and a..."

"It's alright, Hermione," interjected Cassandra, smiling slightly. "Continue. They need to know. They deserve to know."

"Cassandra's a Seer. She's been a Death Eater target for months. That's why she's in the Order, so that the Death Eaters can't get to her. How could you mistake a witch for a muggle once she got her letter? No. Her parents were protecting her by homeschooling her, so that she didn't have to run for her life so young as she does now - now that her parents are dead, she has joined the Order and has been going on missions for months. When Voldemort found out that she was a Seer and managed to get her alone away from the battlefield, he murdered her in cold blood. They never found any body to bury. Marlene followed her within minutes. She had been tortured for hours before they found her dead, hanging by her neck in the abandoned Bones' pantry - the Death Eaters didn't leave any survivors with the Bones family, either."

Hermione didn't want to give them any time to think about it. "Dorea and Charlus Potter only had one child. They retired from their jobs once they both caught a deadly muggle illness called cancer. No muggle or magical means can treat it, and their cancer was one that effected the elderlies especially. It was a slow working cancer that slowly shut down all of their important and unimportant organs, ending with the heart and the lungs. They had no chance of surviving and died a few weeks after Harry was born.

"Fabian and Gideon were walking along Diagon Alley, looking for somewhere where they could open up their own shop when they were ambushed by a total of twenty Death Eaters. Cassandra hadn't seen it beforehand and thus the Order had no knowledge of the attack... when Gideon was able to send a Patronus, they arrived too late for you..." she choked. The twins had recently become good friends of hers, those whom she loved like she had loved Fred and George; it hurt to describe to them the horrid ways they would die... five months from now. "Fabian was pinned to the floor, his head sawn cleanly off his shoulders and one arm missing from his body. Gideon was lying in the middle of the street, sprawled out and bleeding from several gashes on his torso, upper body and legs. Both his feet were missing and his eyes were wide open, glassy and unseeing.

"Albus dies protecting the school and his students in my sixth year. He stood on the Astronomy Tower, facing a man he knows and trusts with his life as the man raises his wand and kills him. Then, Dumbledore fell from the top of the tower and smacked into the ground. When we finally fought the Death Eaters out of the castle... Harry was bent over you, with Ginny clutching him and crying and... I've never seen someone yell so much. You were the grandfather figure he'd wished for his entire life and he was killed right in front of you, just like his father. He called for you, just like he called for Sirius, and he was heartbroken when you wouldn't come. I think it hurt Ginny to see him that way more than it did that you were gone, and that would hurt so much.

"Mad-Eye... you die protecting Harry and the rest of us. It was a plan of Mundungus', that we would Polyjuice six other people into Harry's copies so that no one would know who the real Harry was. That night, I looked Voldemort right in the eye and stunned him. I don't think I'd ever been more terrified in my life, but I did it. I did it because, moments before, I'd seen Voldemort shoot the killing curse at Mundungus - the coward jumped out of the way and let it hit you instead - a body was never found. You were the mentor I'd wanted and needed since Dumbledore - you'd taught me so much over the summer and to have you be killed so wrongly in front of me it made me hurt and feel more anger than I've ever felt before. We found your eye in the Ministry when we broke in later that year and we buried in a forest so that you'd have somewhat a proper funeral.

"Sirius dies attempting to save us. We'd been under the false pretence that Voldemort had captured him and had gone after him into the Ministry, breaking in easily - we were a group of four fifteen year olds and two fourteen year olds, and we managed to break into the most secure place in London. We learnt that the prophecy had been stored away in the Department of Mysteries so that, when the time came, Dumbledore would tell Harry of his destiny to defeat the darkest wizard of all time. Voldemort was in hiding and he wasn't about to waltz into the Ministry to pick up his prophecy, so he had Harry do it by making us believe that Sirius was being tortured in the Department of Mysteries - it was our mistakes that led us to go after him. It was our mistakes that killed Sirius in the end, when he came after us when we were duelling the Death Eaters in the Ministry. It was the Order that apparated inside the Ministry, it was the Order who told us that Sirius wasn't at Grimmauld Place. But he fell backwards through the Veil of Death in the Ministry and never resurfaced. His soul was claimed and his body was sucked away. I'm fairly sure that, if he hadn't been holding back Harry, Remus would have run after him himself.

"Remus was the last true Marauder left. And when the time came, he was more than ready to fight. He tried to protect his wife, Nymphadora Tonks - though she'd probably murder me for calling her that - by keeping her away from the battlefield, but it didn't work. She was an Auror with a fierce and free spirit, and she wasn't about to be kept away from the heat of things, not even by her son, and she followed him soon after. Both were killed on the battlefield, but not before Remus killed Peter in vengeance. I remember walking into the Great Hall after the battle and seeing you and Tonks, two people whom I loved like my own family, dead on the ground... I broke and I couldn't remember much other than just seeing your bodies, with your eyes wide open, your hands so close to each other even in death. You wouldn't separate for anything; she chased you for years, you thought you were dangerous and she was only able to prove to you that she was capable of handling you when she grabbed you after you two transformed and kissed you. It was a romantic story that I only heard in shell cottage right after... Malfoy Manor..."

Hermione cleared her throat, not daring to look up at the pale and panicked faces in front of her. "Most of the people in this room are dead before I'm born, and a few I knew and died during the war. But the truth is that I can't hide it from you. There were two people in this room that weren't dead... Frank and Alice were never dead. Instead... you were insane. Tortured into insanity by Bellatrix, Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange. You wouldn't give them the information they wanted - they were convinced that the Aurors and the Order had Voldemort stashed somewhere, that he wasn't dead. But you didn't break under the torture curse, and instead you didn't tell them anything and gave them nothing. You didn't give anything away. I remember Neville walking into your ward in St Mungo's. Alice would hand him empty sweet wrappers, giving him a strange smile and then she would smile and tell him he looked like her son and ask if he knew him; Frank would stare at a wall for hours and play chess with the other men in the ward, but when Neville would come he would babble to him as if they were best pals. Neville's wand was never his own, but rather it was Frank's. He always thought he wasn't good enough because his gran would always compare him to Frank. He thought he was useless and bumbling and capable of nothing good. But during the battle he proved himself by killing part of Voldemort... you would have loved him, Alice. He was so much like you, but he was so much like Frank as well..."

A hand clasped her own from the other side of the table, and Marlene looked at her sternly, tears brimming in her cornflower blue eyes. Hermione felt her own hazel eyes let the tears fall, and when they begun they wouldn't stop. "Hermione, how would you know that?" asked Alice softly, shuffling closer and holding Hermione's free hand tightly.

"I'm Hermione Granger. Brightest Witch of Her Age. One third of the Golden Trio. Born 19th September..." she swallowed deeply and met their confused looks with a determined one. "1979.

"I'm from the year 1998, just after the Final Battle, just after my friends and I had destroyed Lord Voldemort."

I can only use one excuse for my terrible updates lately: I managed to shut my first finger on my right hand in a drawer on Tuesday during a drama lesson. It's broken. I can't type really well and I can't write using a pen either. It took ages to type this out on word, but... it was worth it. I can only hope that its length is long enough to make up with the long wait for the chapter and I also hope that I haven't lost any reviewers - you're worth the time it spent today. I'm so, so, so, so sorry and I can only look out of my window and pray that the angry mob isn't advancing now. Please cancel that...

Love,

Marlene