.oOo.
Thursday, September 16th
1999
.oOo.
Lily woke at an hour Hermione would find ungodly, pulled on a jumper, and went for a jog around the Great Lake. Professor McGonagall, whom she had run into that morning, had made it perfectly clear that this was not typical behavior for Hermione. Lily found she simply didn't care. As long as she could keep herself out of St. Mungo's, she didn't give a rat's arse about what Hermione Granger would and would not do, life as she knew it was on the line and Lily needed to keep herself sane. She stopped to catch her breath around the rocks where she and Mary had watched as Alice got high for the first time and mapped out a flaw in Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration with a stick in the dirt. They had promptly banned her from all Muggle substances, much to her chagrin, afraid that she would unearth how to conjure food out of air and then they'd have to explain how she'd done it.
She missed her friends, excitable Alice and overconfident Mary. Alice would have been thrilled to finally get a chance to flex her theories and Mary wouldn't have entertained this nightmare for a moment before stealing some prophecy from the Department of Mysteries and demanding they find her a way home. It had been almost than two weeks from when she first realized what kind of future she had been transported into, and she was crippled with bouts of despair and lethargy. Exercise would help, Granger be damned.
"Hermione?" she heard an incredulous voice call out, and she shot up to her feet, calming when she spotted the now familiar mop of red hair. Although Lily had been doing her best to avoid almost everyone, she found that Ron wasn't exactly an unwelcome face. He wasn't Mary or Alice, but he was better than Harry, with whom Lily alternated between wanting to cling to and wanting to run away from as fast as possible.
"Ron," she said as he stopped, panting. His face was flushed and he was sporting a blush not unlike his hair. "What brings you out here?"
"I was about to ask you the same thing!" he exclaimed, clearly surprised. Lily supposed an early morning jog really wasn't Hermione's forte.
"Helps get my mind off of things," she said ambiguously. As morbid as it sounded, the fact that Hermione had just come out of a war was exceedingly convenient for Lily, surviving that kind of trauma was a handy explanation for when she was caught out of character.
"Oh," he answered, shifting his weight on his legs. He looked exceedingly uncomfortable for a moment. "Reckon you'd want to talk about it?"
Lily smiled indulgently. Ron, as she read in Hermione's very detailed diary—really, who had that many feelings to write about?—was not the best with emotions, but he was trying and he clearly cared about Hermione.
"No, just the usual, I think." Ron let out a breath of air he had been holding, and Lily raised an eyebrow.
"What, does talking about my feelings sound so horrid?" If she were Hermione, of course, and had to put up with years of this nonsense, she suspected it wouldn't be so endearing to her, but maybe it was the endorphins putting her in a good humor.
"What? Of course not, 'Mione! I wouldn't—I just…I don't want to overstep, you know? Maybe Harry…"
Harry? Lily frowned. As far as she could tell, Hermione, Ron and Harry were a package deal. Of course, there was the tiny issue of Hermione's on again off again romantic feelings with the youngest Weasley boy (a really very detailed diary), but they were still friends right? And even if they weren't, if Harry was the only person Lily could talk to, she was going to go mad. She suspected there was something else to his insecurity, but Lily decided to ignore it in favor of her sanity.
"We've both got Harry and considering he's about to get married, it'd be nice if I could count on having you, too."
Ron blinked, looking shocked for a moment, and then broke out into a wide grin. "Yeah, of course. Why don't we, erm, finish up together?" he asked, gesturing towards the beaten trail. "If you don't mind."
Lily paused, considering. She had spent most of her time buried in research, and while she enjoyed it as much as the next swot, her isolation was letting her wallow.
"Come on, then," she said, gesturing ahead of her. "We'll do a lap and head back for breakfast? Winner gets the last of the sausage."
Ron nodded. "Shall I give you a head start?" he asked, and at Lily's scowl, he put up his hands in surrender. "Kidding, I'm kidding." he added hastily, and Lily waved her wand to set up a temporary timer, counting down from five.
When it reached zero, Ron took off, and Lily turned around and hightailed it towards the castle.
"What, 'Mione, wait up!" Ron called from behind when he realized he was not, in fact, outrunning her.
"I thought you were giving me a head start!" she yelled back, and Ron laughed, his hurried footsteps following after her.
.oOo.
Lily knew enough shortcuts so that she was comfortably seated for breakfast by the time Ron burst into the Great Hall. Eyeing Lily in his seat, he almost bowled over a fourth year Hufflepuff, snagging her fork before she could bring it to her mouth.
"You…cheated!" he heaved, moving her over easily before sitting in front of her plate, on which she had only put sausage to spite him.
Lily shot him a smug smile which Ron made to return, but as if he had suddenly remembered himself, he pulled away from her, clearing his throat. He began to say something, but they were interrupted by a jovial Harry and a smug looking Ginny. Lily shuddered, trying not to think of what those two were up to that morning.
"Good morning!" Harry beamed, pouring himself orange juice. He seemed particularly pleased that Lily and Ron were sitting together.
"What have you two been up to," Ginny asked with a smirk, eyeing their flushed faces and heaving chests.
"Nothing!" Ron exclaimed a little too loudly. "We went out for a run, is all."
"Warming up for Quidditch?" Ginny asked, and Lily noted the way Ron's face darkened.
"Maybe," he said, stuffing his face with the fork he stole.
"Still doesn't explain why you were up so early," Harry said, raising his eyebrows over his goblet at Lily.
"Get that smug look off your face, Potter. I'll have you know that I was also out there for Quidditch," she replied, holding her breath. Harry looked at her incredulously before exchanging a look with Ginny and bursting into laughter. Of course Hermione didn't fly. Good thing Lily had decided she didn't care.
"I was, and Ron's giving me lessons." Although she yearned to steal Harry's impressive broom and take off into the night, she knew that would be a bit of a stretch. Wanting to learn how to fly, however, seemed reasonable enough for a girl who rode on a dragon, and pretending to be wobbly on a broom was better than nothing.
"I did?" Ron asked, and Lily kicked him under the table. "I did," he affirmed.
To his credit, when Harry realized that Lily was not joking, he sobered immediately, his amusement giving way to excitement.
"You're going to be fantastic, 'Mione! I don't know how the little ones fly yet but there's sure to be an open position or two," he said, and Ginny nodded, albeit a little less enthusiastically. James Potter would have never encouraged someone who didn't know how to fly to try out for the team, nothing superseded winning for him. Having won the most important fight in his life, however, Lily suspected things were a little different for his son. Her son. Minutes before they had to leave for class, Neville—Alice and Frank's son—came down to join them, another piece of their little hero assembly.
Liily groaned and pushed her plate away. Victory sausage had never been so unappealing.
.oOo.
Friday, September 16th
1977
.oOo.
Hermione set herself down on the bench in the courtyard outside of DADA gingerly. She and Frank went on morning runs, apparently, and although Alice's stoic counterpart was too polite to call her out on it, Hermione suspected she was severely out of shape in comparison to Lily. Luckily, neither Mary nor Alice seemed to notice, too engrossed in their complaints about the class, ones that for once, seemed completely valid.
Professor Prewett was unapologetically a disciple of Moody's, with a short fuse and seemingly permanent scowl etched on his face. He had gone on and on about how their previous education was abysmal and that it was a wonder how none of them had dropped like flies in a world that was growing increasingly hostile.
"You're a target, Black, and if you aren't ready to face the consequences of your actions you should have stayed where you were," Prewett had barked one day, a thinly veiled reference to his breaking off with the House of Black. Sirius had stormed out of that lesson, and Professor Prewett had gone on to make several classmates cry.
"You know they were the coolest blokes back in the day," Alice grumbled, "wonder what happened."
"The world?" Mary shrugged, waving Sirius over. If Hermione had managed nothing else, she at least was working on integrating the Marauders and the Moirai, as Sirius liked to call the trio of witches.
"Fates," Sirius greeted, bowing before wrapping an arm around Mary's waist. "Lend me your magic, Mary Poppins, to get me through this class," he said, nuzzling into her neck, making the blonde roll her eyes.
"No fair, you know I don't speak Muggle," Alice frowned, raising a hand to stop Hermione from explaining so she could flip through her Muggle Studies textbook.
Hermione turned to Remus and James, hoping to get more information on her volatile Professor. "What do you lot think happened to the Prewetts?"
Remus shrugged ambivalently. "Maybe Fabian was the interesting one all along, what do we know?" Gideon's gruffness did not bother the young werewolf particularly because he was best in the class, and was clearly enjoying the challenge. Hermione, on the other end, tried to keep herself barely above average, a surprising norm set by a girl who was well regarded as The Brightest Witch of Her Age. What Lily had earned this reputation for exactly, Hermione wasn't certain.
James, on the other hand, looked full of thought. "He seemed like a happy enough bloke when he was around, helped us with a prank or two, didn't he Pads?" He avoided the eye contact Hermione has been attempting to establish.
"That he did," Sirius said, a sneaky smile crossing his face. "Perhaps he needs to be reminded of good times, eh?"
"That's not what I meant, mate," James said quickly, and Sirius shrugged him off.
"It'll be fun! He's probably just pissy because he's never had to grade a paper in his life. Are you in or not?"
Remus sighed but agreed, and James nodded.
"Fine, but only as backup, I'm Head—"
"Head Wanker, we know, send a signal, yeah?" he asked, grabbing Remus by the robe and slinking down the hallway. James only rolled his eyes and opened up a textbook, inside of which Hermione was certain he had hidden the Marauder's Map.
Sirius and Remus made it back before Prewett did, and Frank took one look at them and decided he didn't want to know what was going on. He dragged Alice to the farthest seats from the Marauders in the classroom, clearly afraid of becoming collateral damage. Hermione and Mary quickly followed suit.
When Professor Prewett walked in, he was eerily calm. He leaned back on his desk, muscles straining against the black button up, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Every inch of visible skin on his left arm was burned, his right sported nasty gashes that looked like they were from claws, and both were covered in impressive tattoos.
"Hello class," he said his voice multiple octaves higher than it usually was. He sounded like he had taken a hit of helium. The students looked at each other wildly, too afraid to laugh. "Tough crowd," Prewett said, throwing his arms open. "It's almost as if you've no sense of humor."
At this point, most of the class was giggling hesitantly, their trepidation disappearing when he decided to call roll and make ridiculous faces as he did it.
"I told you," she saw Sirius mouth to Potter, who demurred with a grin.
"Now," Gideon said, something about his smile making Hermione uneasy. She turned to Mary, who didn't seem perturbed. "A bit of a detour from the dark arts, but still a very important skill in defense. Who can tell me how this," he said, gesturing towards his vocal chords, "would happen to someone, theoretically."
"A charm, sir?" A Ravenclaw Hermione didn't recognize replied. The Ravenclaws in Lily's year were much more interested in experimentation than they were the regurgitation of facts, so it didn't surprise Hermione when he got the answer wrong.
"I would undoubtedly have felt the effects on my vocal cords as the charm was casted, as one would with most internal charms."
"A potion, then?" Frank quipped from the back of the room, and Prewett nodded generously.
"Exactly, and assuming I didn't intend for this to happen…""
"Someone snuck you a potion!" Alice gasped, tacking on a hasty "sir" when he turned her way.
"I was just as surprised, Fortescue," he said grimly. "It appears that one, or some, of you have gotten the best of me, and I must say I'm impressed. Anyone care to confess?"
There was an underlying edge to his voice as he smiled, sitting on his desk. Hermione hoped that Sirius wasn't stupid enough to go for whatever Prewett was playing at. Of course, after being so thoroughly embarrassed the other day, she knew the Marauder wouldn't be able to resist the chance to reestablish his ego.
Hermione glanced over, relieved to see that Remus had an iron grip on Sirius' arm and James had his wand trained at the back of his head.
"For besting me, of course, you'll be excused from our upcoming exam." He glanced towards Sirius, the damned man knew it was him, why didn't he just assign him detention and call it a day?
At this point, Sirius was wriggling in his seat. What was Prewett playing at? Hermione's mind raced. If someone were to confess, it'd certainly go on their school record, even if Prewett chose not to punish them. That of course, would have no effect on Sirius, his record already taller than himself. But Prewett was also in the unique position of being an Auror, would it be noted with the Ministry, too? What would that mean for Sirius? She glanced at Alice who had gone pale, clearly she had come to the same conclusion.
Just before Sirius shot out of his seat, a voice called from the side of the room.
"I did it, sir." McKinnon called out, and the Marauders jerked their heads in her direction.
"Did you?" he asked, clearly unconvinced.
"I did. I don't like being made a fool of." Prewett had chastised her until she burst into tears the class before. She shot Sirius a warning glare, and he withered into his seat before he could stand up and deny her claims.
"Coincidentally, neither do I. You must be very talented to sneak one past me, so you're the perfect candidate for our next demonstration…Unless of course, you don't think you're up for it." The warning was clear. Accept, or I know you're not good enough to have tricked me.
"Of course, Professor," she countered, a little less confidently, and Prewett smiled his wolfish grin.
"Well then," he said, offering her his hand to help her down the little steps and into the main lecture space. He flicked his wand lazily and all unused desks and chairs flew to the side of the room, leaving the two in a cleared out circle. There was a collective, audible gasp as Prewett tapped his wand to his temple twice before extending it with his left hand and moving to shake McKinnon's hand with his right.
"Let's duel."
.oOo.
Thursday, September 16th
1977
.oOo.
Lily startled, practically jumping when something fell behind the bookshelf. She was, as she was often, at the library, but not for the reasons she would have liked. Instead of spending her time researching time travel or alternate universes or anything regarding the damn runes that seemed to have sent her here, she was reading an ancient textbook on Golpalott's Third Law. Although Lily didn't care too much to portray a perfect Hermione, she at least had to be convincing, and the one thing Lily didn't seem to be able to get away with was her grades.
Of course, the whole grades thing was easier said than done. Although Lily was widely considered brilliant, it wasn't exactly because of her OWL scores. So, more of her free time than she would have liked was taken up by studying. She couldn't manage to memorize the 13 uses of some obscure root and it was driving her mad.
"Why can't you just use a damn Bezoar?" she grumbled, slamming the book shut. She left the library in a sour mood, trying not to scowl at Madam Prince, who had only gotten less pleasant as the years went on. She marched to Potions, interrupted when someone saddled up to her.
"What's got you looking so down?" a cheery Neville Longbottom asked, reminding Lily painfully of Alice. She had yet to figure out what exactly happened with she and Frank, but considering the newly erected statues to their valiant sacrifice to the cause, she assumed it was nothing good.
"Potions?" he asked, taking the books Lily had been struggling with. "Understandable, although I still don't see why it frustrates you so much."
"Double." she answered. "And it's because I don't have a knack for it the way I'd like," she answered almost verbatim from a journal entry she had found from Hermione's sixth year. Lily had more than a knack for the subject, but she wasn't quite as interested in the curriculum as Hermione seemed to have been.
"Still managed an O, didn't you? Can't believe you're telling me about not having a knack for Potions. Who're you with?"
"Ravenclaws." At this, Neville brightened.
"Well, that should cheer you up, shouldn't it? You're the most Ravenclaw-y Gryffindor to have ever lived."
"I'll take that as a compliment, Nev."
"Of course it is," he said, stopping at the Potions classroom. "Say hullo to Harry for me, will you? We're supposed to go visit Hagrid tonight, if you'd like to come." The burgeoning friendship between the two boys brought Lily near to tears every time she thought about it hard enough, coupled with Hagrid she would hardly be able to maintain her composure.
"Ah, I'll pass on tonight. We're still meeting for Slug Club, aren't we?"
"If you insist," Neville said, looking slightly ill.
"First Harry now you? At least Ron's got his head on straight when it comes to these kinds of things. Don't you realize how important making connections can be?" And how useful it could be at getting me the hell out of here? It was no secret that Lily was particularly fond of the jolly Slytherin, what he lacked in couth he made up for in resourcefulness. He would undoubtedly be a good ally.
"Ron's only interested because there's certain to be a feast, and besides," he said, handing her books back. "I could barely whisper Grandmother's name in a room full of Ministry yuppies and they'd come running."
"Lady Augusta," Lily said wistfully. "Marvelous woman." With an equally marvelous library. "I'd love to meet her sometime."
"I mean, you have, haven't you? But I suppose you could do it properly, over tea or something. Or maybe it's dinner. I've forgotten which is more appropriate," he said mournfully. When Lily left him to go to class, he had pulled out a little notebook, mumbling as he scribbled himself a note. How any child of Alice could be so forgetful, she had no idea.
.oOo.
Deciding that today was a stay-away-from-Potter kind of day, Lily sent him a quick smile before suggesting they pair up with the other House. Harry didn't seem to mind—in fact, did he look relieved?—and paired up with Luna instead. Her own partner was a particularly pretty girl with thick hair and dark eyes that were squinting at her.
"Granger," she greeted politely.
"Hello, Patil," she answered, grateful that they were not on first name bases because she could not recall which of the two twins she was.
"I'm surprised you didn't stick with Potter today."
Ah, straight to the point. Lily only shrugged and the girl seemed to accept it as an answer. She was, like many of her year mates, exacting and fastidious, a far cry from the Ravenclaws of her year. They worked through the lesson in mostly silence, and Lily was careful to slide some of the ingredients up her sleeve as they worked. She was in serious need of Dreamless Sleep and apparently Hermione had maxed out on it ages ago. She breathed a sigh of relief as they finally bottled their unfinished attempt at the all-purpose antidote, when she noticed Padma carefully stow an extra vial in her bookbag. She turned to Lily and gave her a conspiratory wink; I won't tell if you won't.
Lily sputtered, watching her partner continue packing as if nothing had happened. What was she even going to do with a half-finished potion? Didn't she know how dangerous stowing away volatile potions could be? More importantly, why hadn't Lily thought of it first? Maybe Lily had judged the quiet Ravenclaw too hastily. At the very least, she wasn't as much of a stick in the mud as she seemed to be. Perhaps she would be an asset…
"Er, Patil?"
"Yes Granger?"
"Would you want to grab lunch sometime, study session maybe? We'll make a day of it."
Padma looked at her for a long time before a slow smile stretched across her face. "I think I'd like that."
.oOo.
[Ai yaah: Thank you!]