Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling.

The Dool Tree

Chapter 10

Much later that day, Hermione was done with reading for a while, and she lounged across the floor behind her bed, snuggling like a cat into the deep red carpet. Feeling warm and lazy in front of the fire, she opted against going to dinner, instead making the conscious decision to stretch and curl up amid her books. She felt cozy, nestled there, and her eyes soon drooped, and she stared into the fire. Her thoughts were haphazard, flitting from thought to thought in a hazy way like a moth faced with a room full of lovely candles.

The relative peace was disturbed by the callous throwing-open of a door, the pounding of running feet, the collapse of a body on a bed, and the sproinging of bedsprings.

Muddled by drowse, Hermione opened her eyes just barely. From her position on the floor, all she could see was a pair of feet on one bed closer to the door.

The ripping of a seal and the scuffing noise of parchment as it unfurled further cracked the silence, and Hermione moved one heavy arm to prop herself up for a better view.

There was quiet but heavy breathing, as though the intruder had run all the way upstairs. Balancing on her narrow hip, Hermione craned to see who it was.

Lily Evans. And she had a letter.

Thinking it better to make her presence known, Hermione sat up and swallowed her yawn. Lily didn't respond, however, so Hermione lay down again. The carpet was so inviting...

"Eee!"

Hermione opened her eyes once more, this time startled.

"Oh my god! Oh my god!"

Easing herself up to a sitting position, Hermione positioned her back against the corner-pole of her four-poster and looked at her giddy room-mate.

"Oh, Severus! Severus, Severus, Severus!" Lily was saying, and she scooped up a pillow from the head of her bed. "Oh, I knew you could do it. My poor friend!"

She was hugging the pillow tightly to her, her expression beatific and beautiful, and it was evident to Hermione that something wonderful had happened. That was very clear. As was, she noted with increasing chagrin, the fact that the situation was becoming more awkward by the minute, because Lily was apparently talking to herself in what she thought to be an empty room.

"Oh, you won't regret it!" Lily said, and Hermione was rather shocked when the other girl kissed the pillow. "I know you won't. I know it. Oh, Severus!"

There are many ways to describe tears, both those of joy and sadness, but Hermione couldn't quite decide on what trite metaphor to use. To look at Lily's wet face and glassy green eyes...Hermione knew that Lily was radiating a joy that was inexpressible.

A joy of which Hermione was immediately jealous.

"Severus. Severus! Severus. My best friend. You've come back." Lily's exultation was beginning to give Hermione a migraine. Whether it was from intense envy of the experience or rather if it was just because of Lily's own super-intensity, Hermione couldn't tell. The chorus was nauseating enough, but so was the rationalization of what just must have been in that letter, which lay discarded on the foot of Lily's bed.

He asked her out, Hermione thought gloomily, though she wasn't quite sure what it was that bothered her about the realization. And for some reason she accepted.

Just as Hermione observed it, Lily gathered herself up in a ball, attempting to wrap her whole self around the pillow and suffocate it (or so it seemed). Her happiness was manifesting itself in a desire for closeness, and as Hermione watched the other girl crush the pillow to her breasts, she suddenly caught sight of the empty vase on the bed-side table.

Or, wait.

No, that wasn't the solution. He'd sent flowers that morning, hadn't he? And Lily hadn't been pleased to get them. And then he'd been displeased to see that Lily had given them away.

Maybe those flowers weren't from him, Hermione thought, feeling glummer as she rolled over towards the fire. Lily was squealing like a rabbit being held by its hind legs, only hers was in ecstasy rather than unintelligible pain.

But I was certain at the time that they were...hm...what did she say this morning? Her nausea wasn't abating, but she was determined to find a solution despite it.

She just said that they were from a friend she'd known for years.

Then the answer hit her.

Why, James Potter!

Hermione had completely forgotten about him. Obviously, the flowers were from Potter, and she hated Potter. And, it seemed, she loved Snape. Or at least liked him a good deal.

For some reason, Hermione didn't understand that. I thought she was supposed to like James Potter. Not Severus Snape.

A horrible feeling began to rise in her gut. What if her coming back from the future had an adverse affect on the relationships of the people of this time? By somehow just being here did she make Lily like Snape and hate James? Or was this something she had no control over?

While she mused over the possibilities of this problem, and whether she was meant to play matchmaker and bring Lily and James together, Hermione heard Mary's voice at the open door.

"Lily? Where'd you tear off to?"

"I'm right here," Lily said, uncurling herself from around the pillow. Hermione hurriedly closed her eyes and feigned sleep.

"You wanna study charms yet? It's getting a bit late, you know."

"Um..."

There was a pause, and Hermione tried to make her breathing as even as possible.

"...Mary, I've promised to meet Severus."

"Oh!"

Hermione had expected horror, not the pleasant surprise she heard.

"That's wonderful, Captain. Ship-shape. What time?"

"A quarter-hour, he said. In the garden. Under our favorite tree." Lily's voice was tremulous with excitement, and she laughed softly. "I'm so happy, Mary. He...he said he would definitely give up on the Death Eaters."

"Then I suggest you clean yourself up, young lady. It wouldn't do for you to go out looking like you've been mourning." There was a clattering of drawers as hairbrushes and powders were duly put to good use by Lily's deft hands.

"You know, I think that I have been in mourning, Mary," the other girl said soberly, after a pause, "and been in mourning for much too long. And before there even ever was a funeral. But...I think he's out of danger now. The only problem was that he...wants to keep his friends. Which, I think I can convince him otherwise. There's other people he can be friends with."

There was nothing more than the sound of a brush being passed through Lily's hair for a moment. Then Mary replied, "Just be careful, Lily. Don't expect leaps and bounds, or a total reversal. I'm honestly surprised he's giving up his dream for the sake of your friendship..."

"What kind of a dream is it, to be part of such a...it's really nothing more than a terrorist organization, Mary! And it's out for people like me!"

"Well...just talk to him, Lily, and be careful. And don't do anything rash. Just be cool, for once in your life."

Soon, the girls finished their preparations and left, leaving Hermione to the warmth of the fire and the tranquility of loneliness once more.

However, it just wasn't as cheerful as it had been before, so she crawled into her bed and went to sleep.

I don't care, she thought, and went to sleep with a smile because she knew it was true. I don't care what they do. It's not my responsibility to make the future happen.

There was still a healthy amount of doubt as to this point, however.

Her sleep that night, and many nights thereafter, was fitful as she ruminated deeply about this.

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