.oOo.
Sunday, September 4th
1977
.oOo.
Hermione smoothed out her skirt, trying to calm her heartbeat as Mary looked through her closet that morning, holding sweaters and dresses up to her similar frame. Hermione had been tied to the bottom of the Great Lake, but girl talk with someone as put together as Mary seemed far more intimidating. She wished she had taken Lavender and Parvati up on their boy talk weekend clothes swaps, but at the time, Hermione had wrinkled her nose and gone to find Harry and Ron. Of course, when she was old enough to overcome what the SPEW pamphlets defined as internal misogyny, Hermione didn't have the time to reach out and make any more friends than those already in her circle. Being thrown into another world certainly solved that problem.
"Look Lils, I know and you know that Alice is never going to ask you, but if you don't explain the other side of your list sometime soon she's going to have mapped out everything from your first kiss to your children's names."
"Sweet Circe, will she?" Hermione was right in her first assessment when she thought Alice wasn't nosy, but she was scheming, which might even be worse. In the case of "James and Marley," however, that might be an asset.
"Do you remember what she did when she realized—oh, you kept this?" Mary asked, pulling out a ratty green jumper that looked no more important than any of the others.
"I—yes?" Hermione tried, surprised by the blush that rose to Mary's cheeks. She cleared her throat and went on.
"Well, I'm borrowing this," she said, pulling out a cardigan and folding it over her arm. They heard Crookshanks hiss and Alice swear as she let herself into the suite, rattling off Lily's password shortly after.
"Ladies," Alice said, eyeing the lumpy jumper Mary asked Hermione about. "To the Common Room?"
To hang out with even more people who knew Lily intimately? Maybe not.
"Ah, I don't know, I'm comfortable here, aren't you?"
"Come on Head Girl, you haven't been once yet, it hardly feels like Gryffindor without at least one redhead," Mary said, "Longbottom's gotten cocky with the chessboard now that you aren't whooping his arse every night."
Uh oh. Hermione was terrible at chess. "Surely he can find someone else to play?"
"Well, Pettigrew could beat us all with his eyes closed, but he hasn't played in forever. Haven't seen him a lot, it's not much fun if you know you're always going to win."
Hermione had to keep from gagging. So far, she had been lucky enough to avoid the rat, but now she had to sit with him? Acknowledge that he had a name, had friends and wasn't completely hated? She hated to think that he had any skills whatsoever, but of course it would be a game of strategy, a man who betrayed his best friends didn't do it because he thought he would lose.
"He certainly knows how to come out on top," she remarked wryly, placating her murderous urges with the thought of his demise: death by self-strangulation.
Alice and Mary both looked at her with looks of concern, clearly picking up on Hermione's discomfort.
"Lils," Alice started, "did something happen with Peter?"
"What?" Hermione asked, a little too loudly. "No, of course not." Although she was curious as to why that was the first thing Alice would ask, this was not road Hermione trusted herself to go down carefully. Better to deflect. "I just uh, I wanted to talk to you about ah, Potter and McKinnon.
Alice's frown disappeared immediately, and Mary looked self-satisfied. "Finally!" Alice sang, flopping onto Lily's bed. "I thought you'd never bring it up."
"It's barely been a day" Hermione laughed.
"Plenty of time to confess your undying love, if you want to pull a Potter," Mary commented, and the girls rolled their eyes.
"So, do you think I, uh, have a chance?" Hermione asked, trying not to think about how weird this whole situation was.
"Are you kidding? Of course you do. You two work together, you're in the perfect position to make a good impression. Potter doesn't stand a chance." Alice went on to highlight Lily's apparently limitless good qualities.
"…don't you think, Mary?" Alice finished, gesturing towards her friend.
The blonde leaned against the door, giving Hermione a sidelong glance. "I think anyone would be an idiot not to like you Lily."
"It's always hard to tell with those Ravenclaws, they don't really date so honestly I have no idea if she swings your way but if she does, Potter isn't any competition because it's mostly Black trying to play matchmaker and—"
Wait, what? They thought Potter was competition? They thought Lily was interested in Marlene? She thought back to Lily's journal. How could she not have seen it earlier?
It appeared that no matter how book smart she may be, Hermione Granger was not one to read between the lines.
.oOo.
Saturday, September 4th
1999
.oOo.
The next afternoon, Lily woke up to a loud thud. She groaned and leaned out of bed to see Harry's limbs tangled up in a sheet on the floor.
"Did you sleep here last night?" Lily asked groggily, eyeing the armchair by the bed.
"Morning Sleeping Beauty," he mumbled into the floorboards, in no rush to get up.
"It's half past noon and I'm hardly a beauty right now."
"Details, details," he sighed, rolling onto his back and looking up at Lily. Despite all of the physical similarities, the unruly hair, the pronounced laugh lines, even the way they talked, Lily could not see this boy—man—as James' child. He was too kind, too calm to be half of the very bane of her existence. Frankly, she couldn't see him as half hers either, and looking at eyes that were so familiar to her own had her feeling quite ill. She needed to get out of there, and fast.
"Go on, won't Ginny mind that you spent the night?" Lily asked, gently kicking at his unmoving form.
"Gin? Of course not, and even if she did, she'd find something new to be mad at me about sooner or later. That Weasley temper, you know," he said with a lazy wink, and Lily looked at him scandalized.
"You shouldn't talk about her that way, she's your girlfriend!"
"Soon to be fiancée, hopefully, and then wife. Don't you think I should come to terms with it now?"
That little declaration, of course, had been more than enough to rouse Lily out of bed. Once she got rid of Harry, she hightailed it to the One Eyed Witch and out of Hogwarts. She wasn't a fan of day drinking, but considering the son she didn't know she had with a man she didn't love had just said he was getting married, she figured she could make an exception.
Fortunately, it appeared that war heroes were given a pass on this social taboo, because the Hogs Head served her with no complaints. She sat at the counter twisting in her seat when she recognized a familiar face from across the bar.
"Ronald," she greeted wearily, thinking of little William Weasley, who wasn't even old enough for a wand back home.
"Hi 'Mione," he said, his body tensing as if expecting some sort of impact. She supposed Hermione Granger wasn't one for drowning her sorrows at seedy pubs. Luckily, Lily Evans, on the other hand, had no such reservations. When Lily didn't follow up his greeting with an admonition, he looked at her in shock, and then something else.
"How are you?" Ron asked, scooching over to sit next to her.
"Horrid, but you look like right shite, too," Lily answered honestly, and Ron barked out a hoarse laugh.
"Never been one to spare my feelings, eh?"
"I suppose not," she replied, taking a swig of Ogden's Finest. Would he not get the hint that she was just not up to playing Granger right now?
Ron was silent for a few moments, nursing his glass.
"You know the twins would be having a right field day if they saw us like this, drinking in the middle of the day, or Percy, Merlin," he said, laughing a bit. Lily thought of her only sibling Petunia and snorted.
"I know what you mean. To family," she said, tipping her glass in his direction before knocking it back.
"To family," he reciprocated. He was silent a moments more before clearing his throat. "Are you any closer to getting them back?" he asked, and she choked on her drink.
"Excuse me?" Getting who back? There's no way Ron could have figured her out so quickly.
"Your family? I know you mentioned a potion…" he trailed off. Ah right, Hermione's parents, who, according to various news clippings Lily had tracked down, were still missing and Obliviated.
"I don't know if I'll get back to them in time, honestly. They could already be dead, I wouldn't know," she answered candidly. Lily had, for all her research, not been able to track down her own parents' death dates, but she knew they had to have passed before Harry was born for him to go to Petunia and the horrid bloke she was dating.
"You will, if anyone can do it, it's Hermione fucking Granger, Brightest Witch of her Age."
"That's what I'm afraid of." Lily replied, and Ron simply sighed. "How are you holding up?" she asked, trying to deflect. Ron lost a sibling in the war, she recalled from her reading, although she couldn't remember which one. "It must be strange to be back."
"Alright, I suppose. Worried about Mum, mostly. Being back is good for me though, you were right. Had to get out of that house," he shuddered. "Some fifth year asked Gin about the wedding this morning and I just split."
"Potter was practically pissing rainbows this morning," Lily replied. "It's intolerable."
Ron laughed again, this time more genuinely. "We're rotten friends, aren't we?"
"The worst."
Lily jiggled her legs, her shoes making clicking noises against the rungs on her stool until Ron shot her a look.
"Sorry, I've been having trouble staying still."
"Why?" he asked, and Lily sighed, realizing this must be one of Hermione's tells.
"I just, I feel like I can't do anything for them, for any of them, but I want to but it's all in the past." She tried to string together. "It doesn't make much sense."
"I think it does," Ron replied, sliding Lily's glass away from her when she made to reach for the Ogden's again. "But it's like you always tell me, I think."
"And what do I always tell you?" Lily asked flatly, eliciting an offended look from Ron.
"I do listen to you sometimes, you know," he exclaimed. "Always going on about how the more you learn, the more you know, the more you can do, or some shite. I fell for it, too, since I'm back at school, anyways." He sounded indignant and annoyed but there was definitely respect somewhere in there too, and Lily couldn't help but smile.
"Fell for it? Are you calling me a liar?"
"Of course not, Mione, I'm calling myself a fool," he said, getting up and gesturing towards the door. "Come on, there must be some book in this village you haven't read yet, then you can learn more and know more and do more, yeah?"
For the first time in days, Lily felt a flicker of hope. She was in the future, there must be something she could learn how to do to fix the abysmal state of things while she figured out how to get home.
"And if I've already read them all?" she grinned.
"A book I haven't read yet, then. With George away and Gin over the moon, I haven't had anyone knock me down a few pegs in ages, you'll be doing the public a service." Ron replied, offering his hand to help her up. He seemed surprised when she laughed and held on to it, and Lily made a mental note; apparently Hermione wasn't the most affectionate person.
"For what it's worth, I don't think you're a fool. A shite friend, maybe, but so am I." Lily said, knocking him with one of her shoulders instead. Maybe roughhousing was more up Hermione's alley? Ron looked even more surprised, but shot her a strained smile.
"Well, you'd be the first, I think," Ron replied, a hint of bitterness creeping back into his voice. Lily looked at him curiously. He wasn't as charming as Harry or as kind as Neville seemed to be, but still, there was…something. Something about this Ron Weasley that made her very glad Harry had him by his side, but more importantly, that Hermione was friends with him too.
.oOo.
Monday, September 5th
1977
.oOo.
Mary was excused from the dare because she had spent so much of her time window grilling Hermione, along with Alice, about her interest in James. Apparently, Hermione had fended them off well enough, because the two grudgingly accepted her new infatuation and pledged to be her wing-women.
"It's not McKinnon that's going to be a real issue for you, it's Black," Alice said.
"Sirius, why?"
"Because you spent the better part of the last few years breaking his best friend's heart? Black respects you, Lils, and he likes us well enough, but the Marauders don't want you anywhere near Potter, in that way, anyways," Mary explained, as if it were obvious.
"So? That never stopped him before, did it?"
Alice looked at Hermione in distaste. "I'm assuming you want to genuinely get to know him and vice versa, not have him blindly adore you like last time around. Unless you're just trying to shag him; in which case, go for it."
"I am not trying to shag him Alice, I really do think there's something." If Lily really was in her body, she certainly had the easier job of dealing with Harry and Ron.
"Then get to know his friends, Lily! Do you think I would have given Frank the time of day if you two didn't like him as much as you do? What about if you were actively advising me against him? On top of years of rejection?"
"Besides," Mary added, "if you get to know Black better and you can't see yourselves being actual friends, there's no way you'd survive a relationship with Potter. Romulus, maybe, but Black and Potter are attached at the hip."
"Alright, alright, I get it. Try to get Black to like me so he won't tell Potter to head for the hills."
Mary and Alice both shot Hermione a look.
"What?"
"Lily, we're not saying you should schmooze so Black writes you a letter of recommendation, we're saying you should genuinely try to see if you fit into Potter's life! Goodness, I know you've never been the one pursuing but you sound like a terrible teen novel," Alice exclaimed.
Hermione sighed, thinking about how bad YA romances were actually the only basis of comparison she had to "getting the guy," a notion Mary and Alice clearly didn't believe in. She was really out of her element.
"Unless, again, you're only trying to shag him" Mary sing-songed. "And speaking of shagging, DADA's about to start and I heard Professor Prewett is pissed. What I'd do to make that man scream…"
.oOo.
Of particular interest to Hermione was the handsome new DADA professor with nasty tattoos and nastier scars to boot. Professor Gideon Prewett, Ron's uncle, she recognized, was rumored to be stationed at the school as a punishment for some sort of Auror offense nobody could agree on.
"I'd put my Galleons on him stepping around some of those new interrogation laws, some of them were necessary, of course, but they're really tying the Aurors' hands up," Alice theorized, "did you know they need a Level Two clearance for Vertiserum now? That can take weeks!"
"And you know this because?" Mary asked, drawing out the last word and rolling her eyes. "I don't know why you didn't end up with one of the Marauders, Frank is far too sensible for your nonsense," she teased, and Alice looked scandalized.
"Hey, I can hardly be anything less than a conspiracy theorist after so much time with Lady Augusta. And the Marauders, Son of Ceridwen, why would you insult me like that?" Alice asked, and Hermione made another mental note. The Marauders, while well liked, were not quite as popular as Remus and Sirius made them out to be. As individuals, they did more than well, but put them in a group and suddenly every girl in a 5 kilo radius was rolling her eyes in an exasperated fondness, at best. She suspected it had to do mostly with the fact that they called themselves anything at all. It was the equivalent of Harry, Ron, Seamus and Dean taking up arms and calling themselves the Artful Dodgers. She snorted at the thought.
"Are you coming, Lils?" Alice asked, and Hermione hastened towards the classroom. Alice quickly sat down next to Mary, leaving Hermione to fend for herself. Alice gestured towards where the Marauders usually sat (they were usually late and the rat, thank goodness, was not in Advanced DADA). Hermione huffed but did as she was told, sitting down next to Sirius' seat.
"Lily-Flower, to what do I owe this pleasure?" Sirius cried as he walked in, moving to switch seats with Remus.
"No need to move, Black, those two are partnered up already and I was hoping you wouldn't mind." Hermione said, trying to seem nonchalant about it. Lily Evans wouldn't be nervous sitting next to anybody, she scolded herself. "Unless you don't think you can handle me as a partner, we're supposed to start practicals today."
"Handle you? I wouldn't dream of it, Red. Considering I rather like my anatomy, I'll let Moony be the one to defend his against your hexes," said Sirius, jerking his head towards Remus, who sat down next to Hermione with a polite "Evans."
Once settled, Remus shot her a mischievous grin, leaning towards her. "You know," he whispered conspiratorially, "this is our first round of practicals, nobody would notice if you were a bit out of practice."
"What?" Hermione asked, trying not to be distracted by how her senses were now on high alert as his body angled towards her.
"I mean, you could probably chalk up another bollocks freezing hex to being an accident, if you want to keep the tradition going," he said. "You know, if your aim was a bit off." He jerked his head in Sirius' direction before turning his attention to a livid Professor Prewett who had just stomped in. She could have sworn Remus sent her a surreptitious wink before opening his textbook.
Perhaps her aim was off in more ways than one.
.oOo.
[Guest: Thank you so much!] [Zabini's Girl: Wow! Thank you so much for all your feedback. No promises with Blaise, but I really like him too… ;). Hermione isn't exactly pining, which comes up soon. Stay tuned for more Hermione floundering in social situations, it'll be fun, I promise.] [Ai Yaah: Would you stop using that my goodness! You're the worst. Thanks for the feedback. Luh you.] [2 lazy 2 log in: Awh, thank you so much!]