Chapter Seven: In Which Hermione Finally Loses It
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Thursday, September 23rd
1999
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Lily looked up from her notebook when Padma swept into the seat across from her.
"Courtesy of Rowena," the girl said, handing Lily what looked like a month's worth of Dreamless Sleep.
"Is it even legal to have so much of this on hand?"
"No," she smirked. "Is that going to be a problem?"
"Only if you don't tell me where you got it," Lily sang, carefully dropping the vials into her bag. "Thank you, by the way, you're a dream." Lily had been spending much of the past week in Padma's company. Unlike Harry, Ron and co., the Ravenclaw didn't seem to know Hermione very well, and thus wouldn't be able to pick out any of Lily's idiosyncrasies. She was a respite when Lily felt like she was walking on her tip toes most of the time. Plus, it didn't seem like too much of a stretch for Hermione to be making new friends. The wonky post war scheduling had students of all houses and years taking modified courses together.
"In due time Granger, spilling all of my secrets wouldn't be very smart of me, would it?" Lily had a sneaking suspicion that Ravenclaws hadn't actually become more stuffy, rather had gotten better at hiding their true ingenuity. Another wartime precaution, she assumed. "Besides, are you really surprised? Somebody had to hold down the fort while you were off gallivanting, private potion stores aren't the half of it."
"Well it wasn't all fun and games!" Lily exclaimed. Of course, it wasn't like she had done any of it, but the various scars that criss-crossed Hermione's body didn't look like they were acquired on a picnic.
"Of course not," Padma said quietly, dropping her teasing lilt. "It's just…you aren't alone, you know? You've had nothing but lions and Luna for the past few years, it wouldn't hurt to expand your horizons."
"Definitely not," Lily agreed. While Lily understood why the Golden Trio was as close as they were, she thought a lot of their troubles would have been solved had they the luxury of reaching out. Lucky for Granger, networking was one of Lily's fortes. She pulled out a container from her bag, offering the girl strawberries she had snagged from the kitchen.
Padma sighed, taking a bite from the perfectly ripe berry. "If nothing else, I'd kill to be a witch for the fruit."
Lily laughed, rising from the table and offering her arm to the other girl. "Come on, I want to ask you about a project I've been working on, better we go somewhere more private."
"A secret project? Who told you the magic words?" Padma asked. "I can hardly say no now, can I?"
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Padma stretched leisurely, her dark hair swinging in Lily's face as she leaned over the bed to where Lily was on the ground, poring over the texts Padma had brought on Runes.
"You need to talk to Malfoy," she said, matter-of-factly.
"Malfoy? Why him?" Although this Malfoy seemed significantly less dangerous than either of his parents, he was still a Malfoy. "Why would he help me?"
Padma let out an exasperated huff. "You are such a Gryffindor, you know that? Try and put aside your lofty morals for two seconds and see what position you've put him in."
"I haven't put him in any position!" Lily tried, hoping Padma would explain.
"Not purposefully, of course. But if I'm correct, you had something to do with Harry Potter himself swooping into the Malfoy's hearings last minute, didn't you?"
Ah right, now Lily remembered. She had seen something like that in the papers.
"But who's to say it made a difference? The Wizengamot probably would have ruled the same way regardless. And it's not like I did it out of good will," Lily said, thinking about the less than flattering opinions Hermione had written about the boy.
"Doesn't matter. What does matter is you've done him a favor and if he has any shred of honor left he'll want to repay you as soon as possible. I don't think it'd be unreasonable to say he owes you a Life Debt, actually."
"I'm not going to pull a Life Debt over him," Lily decided. She didn't even know the boy. Padma only laughed.
"Details, details. Point is, the kind of research you want to do…well, not even Rowena can help you there. Too uncouth to harbor books quite so dark, and Malfoy is your best connection to anyone who would."
"It's not like I'm trying to learn Necromancy!" Lily groaned. How hard was it for a girl to make blood wards that would ward off the darkest wizard in recent history and return two witches 20 years apart to their rightful bodies? Oh wait…
"I know, but if you're right about…him being willing to spare Potter's Mum, love may not have been the only power-he-knew-not."
"Love and a willing sacrifice," Lily snorted. "My favorite kinds of blood magic. I get it, I'll ask him."
"Just make sure you don't stroll into the boy's toilet with your hand on your hip, alright? You've got to wait until he can hardly refuse without sinking even lower than before."
"Are you telling me to take advantage of his misfortune?" Lily asked, and the Ravenclaw winked, gathering her things.
"Everyone knows you can be brave and kind and honorable, so forget all that, alright? Just be smart," Padma advised. "How do you feel about lunch?"
"Starving, actually." The two girls grinned and walked down to the Great Hall together.
"You know…what did you mean about Rowena not being able to help me with books that dark? You wouldn't be suggesting that she's harboring other kinds of books somewhere, would you?"
Padma widened her eyes. "Well, about that…" she started, shifting her weight on her feet before taking off down the hall.
"What are we, children?" Lily called exasperatedly, not bothering to stifle a smile at the laughter that pealed down the halls after her first friend.
.oOo.
Ginny Weasley tried not to frown as Hermione traipsed over to the Ravenclaw table, merely grabbing food in a takeout container she had conjured before disappearing again with Padma.
"Everything alright, Gin?" Harry asked, turning his attention to her.
"What? Yes, of course."
"She misses Hermione," Luna said matter of factly, and Ginny frowned. Luna only shrugged. "I've been trying to reason her out of it for days, but she won't listen to a word I say. Figured I'd let you take a shot," she said, looking at Harry. "It really isn't your fault that the wobbly-howlers cluster this time of year, Ginny."
Harry looked like he was trying to swallow a laugh. "Really?"
"Apparently," Ginny sighed. "I don't miss her, exactly. I just…it seems like she's been avoiding me, is all." But Ginny, the lone girl in a family of rambunctious boys, missed the ever assertive presence Hermione lent in her life. She would teeter between being jealous of her and being grateful they were friends, but her adoration for the older girl was never in question. Now, they were back at school, and Ginny had hardly seen her.
"Don't worry, Gin. You know how Hermione is. She and Padma have been pairing up in potions, probably trying to get ahead."
Ron snorted. "Bet she's finally found someone who will color code her study schedules with her, bloody Ravenclaws." He was promptly swatted over the head by Luna, who only shrugged and said there was a nargle trying to nest in his hair. "Have you drawn up the plays for the next game?"
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Saturday, September 24th
1977
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[James' POV]
James Potter was on top of the world. Well, on top of hisworld, which, for the moment, consisted solely of the Quidditch pitch. He had scored so many points that unless Meadows were to find the snitch in the last few minutes of the game, Gryffindor was a shoe in. Just as he was about to dive back down, Alice's piercing victory cry rang through the air, snitch in hand. Game won. After taking her customary lap around the pitch, she tossed it to James, an honor reserved for who the Seeker considered MVP. He turned towards the crowd, hands spread as he puffed out his chest.
"Pot-ter! Pot-ter!" cheers sprang up from the stands peppered with red and gold. He tossed the Snitch in his hand, sending a wink to a couple of girls as his eyes roved the crowd. Usually, this would be the perfect opportunity to try and woo Lily, but those days were long gone. Still, she had been acting rather strange lately. Ever since the Marauders had taken up with the Fates as friends, and not just because of Sirius' on again, off again antics with Mary, Lily was oddly…nice? She would walk with him to breakfast and fidget and try to meet his eyes, but then look away when he looked at her. It was all very strange. Maybe…
He lowered his broom towards the stands, hovering by the red head just as he had many times before. Her green eyes widened in surprise and she looked up at him with a disbelieving laugh.
"For me?" she asked, screaming over the crowds as he extended his hand, the snitch fluttering in his grasp. She was smiling at him, that radiant grin he was sure he had written at least 12 odes about, and he could feel his heart beat faster. If he didn't know any better, he'd say she looked actually taken with him.
Of course, he did know better. He shot her a lopsided grin before shaking his head. He tossed the snitch towards a pretty sixth year instead.
"Not this time, Lily-Flower," he said, his voice hard. Behind them, raucous cheers filled the air.
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Hermione was hysterical. For a few, fleeting moments, she saw Harry, whizzing on his broom with his perpetually messy hair a blur. She saw Harry when he raised his fist triumphantly, Snitch in hand, and she saw Harry when he brought his broom down to greet her. Of course, that illusion was shattered rather quickly when James rebuked her, some sort of payback, she assumed, for whatever Lily had done to him. He really was an arrogant prat, wasn't he? Some of that, Hermione suspected, could be chalked up to adrenaline; because prior to this, James had been nothing but polite, if not distant with her. They did share quarters, after all. Of course, all of these thoughts came later, because, in the moment, she was afraid her heart was going to fall out of her chest.
"How dare he?" she choked out finally, after Mary had dragged her under the stands.
"Who, Potter? I'm sure he didn't mean to upset you. He's an arse, but you know he isn't malicious."
"Are you kidding me?" she screeched. James Potter was the definition of malicious, if Harry's recounting of Snape's memory proved accurate.
"He looked like he wanted to give it to you and then thought better of it. Isn't that a good thing?"
"Not since she declared her apparent undying love for our ex-lover boy," Alice scowled, trying to rub the dirt off her cheeks. She had run down to the stands still in her Quidditch uniform.
"Oh right, forgotten about that. I just can't see how you two would ever—"
"I get it!" Hermione interrupted. "We're completely different and I've never shown any interest in him and there's no logical reason why we would ever be together," she finished, somewhere between a sob and a shout. How was she ever going to make this work? She needed the real Lily back, she needed to go home. Harry—her Potter—was counting on her. Everyone was counting on her and she was failing so miserably and-
"Hey, come on now Lils, if it's meant to be, it'll work out. You're worrying too much about it," Mary tried, ever confident in herself and her friends. This was not the right thing to say either, because Hermione was suddenly trying to fight back a prickling behind her eyelids. "Sweet Circe Lils, are you crying?"
"No!" Hermione cried. She was quickly swept into Alice's awaiting arms.
"Sorry I smell," the future Longbottom said apologetically. "But Mary's right. In the meantime, why don't we work on something else, eh?"
Mary nodded. "Everyone else will be celebrating; why don't we try out our pickpocketing skills? You still want those mirrors?" she asked, ignoring Alice's rundown of unfavorable logistics and dragging Hermione towards the castle instead.
.oOo.
[James' POV]
They didn't get the mirrors. What they did end up getting, however, was rip-roaring drunk, after getting caught up in the post-game festivities. Frank lifted Alice into a piggy back and roared for Sirius and James.
"Woah there," Black exclaimed, reaching out to keep Mary stable. "Have we been out-drunk? Never thought I'd see the day. Guess that means we've gotta get back at it, eh?"
Frank glared. "You can do whatever you want, Black, just help me get these two out of here first."
"So noble," Sirius grumbled, hoisting Mary over his shoulder. "Ay Prongs, get the last witch, will you?"
James eyed Lily wearily. "Come on, then," he said, reaching out to her.
"I'd rather not, I'm having a wonderful time." In actuality, she looked like she was miserable, head in her hands as she nursed what was probably more than one too many cups. Who knew Lily Evans was a sad drunk?
"I can see that," James said, swearing under his breath. "Why can't we get Moony to do this?" he asked Sirius, who was trying to balance Mary on his broom so he could fly up the stairs. Mary promptly took off without him, leaving him to fall onto his arse.
"What a witch," he said admiringly, watching Mary circle around a chandelier. "And he's feeling a bit under the weather."
"Peter still missing?"
"Maybe he's finally found a bird to bed," Sirius shrugged, causing Frank to make a face. "What? Not all of us are Pureblood Princes, Frank. Some of us have needs."
"Mate, aren't you the epitome of a Pureblood Prince? Always Pure?"
"Was. Now I'm a more a Pureblood Pirate," Sirius said proudly, grabbing the crimson drapery and leaning as if he was on the helm of a ship.
"Marls still on the case?" James asked. The Ravenclaw Sirius always seemed to be pushing onto him P.E. (Post Evans) was doing a marvelous job at keeping Walburga's hands tied when it came to legally disowning Sirius.
"Yep. Dear Old Mum's drowning in legal jargon, by the looks of it. She'll be dead before she can sort through it all and since I'm legally still head of House…"
"You can spend all her money on dastardly Muggle delights. Can't believe you almost blew it over Prewett, though," he said, referring to the earlier DADA fiasco for which he had gotten quite a talking to.
"How was I supposed to know that a Ministry write-up would make me unfit?" At that moment, there was a loud burst of cheers; Mary had apparently climbed onto a table. "That's my cue," Sirius said, taking off, leaving James with the Head Girl. He swallowed hard and looked at his new charge.
"You aren't going to make you carry me, are you?"
.oOo.
"You're such an arse Potter," Lily cried as he set her down in front of her room.
"And a toe-rag. And an incorrigible rascal. I know. You've said." She had been spewing all sorts of nonsense on their way to the Head Suite and it was getting old real quick.
He straightened out his robes and made to walk towards his own room, but Lily lowered herself to the ground by her door instead of actually entering it.
"Come on, Evans," he said, now a bit concerned. "How much did you have to drink? I didn't think you were a lightweight."
"Why should you care? All you need to know about Lily Evans is that she didn't fall head over heels in love with you in third year, and now she's a bitch."
"I've never said that!" To your face, anyways. He sighed and sat down next to her. Lily was always so unflappable, so confident in her refusals of his affection that to see her as anything less than indomitable was disconcerting. "I don't think you're a, that word."
"Yes you do, and so do all of your stupid friends except for Remus and I don't know what he wants from Lily, anyways."
"Erm, Remus is nice to everyone, mostly, if that helps." It didn't, if Lily striking his chest was any indication.
"Hey," he exclaimed, gathering her wrists. "When have you ever been one to care about what people think of you, anyways?" And when did you start talking in third person?
"Well it's hard not to when an entire Quidditch stadium watches you get snubbed."
James' eyes widened in comprehension. "You're not…upset about the Snitch, are you?"
"Yes, you utter prat!"
"I..You—," he stuttered, looking bewildered. "I didn't think it'd upset you Lils, you never want anything to do with that stuff!" She deflated before him.
"This isn't supposed to be like this," she said softly.
"No kidding," James said, running his hands over his face. Never in a million years did he think he'd be in this position. If he weren't actually worried for her health, he'd be gleeful. Lily was never going to live this down. "Get up, sitting on the ground like this is only going to make tomorrow worse, unless you've invented a Sober-Up you can take right now."
"Now I invent things?" she half sobbed.
"I…yes? What's your password, Lily? I'd rather not be here all night, if I can help it." For the second time in ten minutes, James gained her ire. She turned to him and spat:
"Well I don't give a flying fuck about what you want from me right now, alright? I want to go home. I want to go home!" James gathered her wrists as she tried to strike him again, her attempts slowing down until she was clutching at his shirt and crying and James really didn't know what to do. He coughed, trying to get her attention, to no luck. Lily Evans was homesick? He looked at her through squinted eyes, as if something had shifted and things weren't quite what they used to be.
"I can't take you home, but I can put you to bed, maybe. Given you promise you won't castrate me in the morning." Lily nodded into his shirt and James hoisted her into his arms. She wrapped her legs loosely around his waist so he was able to move, and he deposited her on his own bed.
"Here. You can transfigure something, I think. Or grab a shirt," he said, pointing towards his wardrobe. "I'm heading to the Tower, alright? I'll be on the couch when I get back."
He was at the door before Lily called to him, with a voice so small he could hardly believe it was her.
"Will you stay?"
"In here? Absolutely not." She let out a strangled little sob, pulling on heart strings James had taken such care to sever. He shut the door behind him and made it all the way to their kitchenette before flinging himself back towards his room, grumbling all the while. He snatched up his pyjamas and marched into the bathroom. By the time he was out, Lily's breaths were regular and shallow.
"Has anyone ever told you you're insufferable?" he asked her sleeping form as he settled into an armchair. Lily was always reactive, but drunk-Lily was, as Sirius would say, a temptress of tempests.
"Ron mostly. You've always told me it's endearing," she answered sleepily, surprising him.
"Ron? Who's Ron? And when have I said that?"
His questions were met with silence, and the resident Marauder sighed. This wasn't exactly how he had dreamed of having the bright eyed object of his affections in his bed.
.oOo.
Friday, September 24th
1999
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The aforementioned opportunity Padma told Lily to look out for came sooner than expected. Lily threw down her copy of Advanced Theories in Alternate Universes and jumped to her feet when she saw the telltale sparks of a Wizarding Duel extend overhead. Padma barely looked up from her own text, but waved her off.
"Holler if you need me," she said, uninterested, sighing as Lily ran towards trouble. Trouble in the form of Malfoy at the end of Harry's wand, the former gingerly holding his wand while Harry looked like he was going to take his arm off.
"What the fuck, Potter?" she screamed, rushing to Harry and trying to pull his wand arm down. "What are you doing?"
Ron came sprinting down the hill, long limbs flailing as his robes flapped in the wind. "Bad idea!" he panted, pulling at Harry's other arm while shooting the Malfoy a death glare.
"Get off of me," Harry spit out, shoving Ron to the side. He looked down at Lily, and much to her relief, carefully pried himself from her grip instead of tossing her aside like he did Ron.
"What did you do, you bloody prat?" Ron asked Malfoy, who had his wand raised tentatively in front of him.
"He was trying to sneak off!" Harry exclaimed, and Malfoy, despite his wild eyes, tried to respond with the typical aristocratic grace.
"I was doing no such thing, Potter, now if you'd lower your wand…"
"No! How the fuck do I know you're not going to go off and, and…contact your Death Eater friends?" Harry's voice was tremulous.
"Come on, mate, you know he doesn't have any of those," Ron said, trying to reason with him. Lily, for one, was rather confused, because Harry had never expressed anything towards Malfoy but polite disinterest. "It's over, I swear it is," Ron said quietly, and Harry strained to focus his eyes on his friend. Whatever Potter was suffering from, Lily was sure she wasn't equipped to handle it. Where was Ginerva when you needed her?
"Harry," Lily said calmly, "you know how Wizarding Duels work. Malfoy can't put down his wand until you do." Harry's knuckles were turning white as he gripped the wood even tighter.
"He bloody well can," Harry growled, and Ron groaned.
"Only if he wants to forfeit, and unless you specified, you know that means his title. Easy now," Ron coaxed, tugging at Harry's sleeve. As Harry lowered his wand, Malfoy made to quickly pocket his, and in a flash Harry was back on the defensive.
"What the fuck did you just do, Ferret?" he said, crossing the distance between the two and jabbing his wand in Malfoy's neck. Something akin to rage crossed the blonde's countenance.
"Kindly remove yourself from my person, Potter."
"I don't think so, you can't exactly call home to Daddy, can you?"
"Don't talk about my father, you prick." Malfoy had gone from scared to furious, this wasn't going to end well. Lily quickly wedged herself between the two.
"Stand down, Harry, it's alright, you're alright," she tried, reaching out to him hesitantly. He was distracted long enough by her gentle touch that Ron was coming up behind him.
"I don't need your help, you little Mudblood," she heard Malfoy curse behind her, and within seconds it was not one wand trained in between his eyes, but two, Ron having joined his friend in arms.
"Where have I seen this before," Lily grumbled, mostly to herself. "Enough, okay? Enough. Wands down," she demanded, trying to emulate her mother while standing protectively in front of the ungrateful blond. After staring her down, Harry tossed his wand to the side and turned away. Lily, relieved, reached out to him once more but Harry whirled around and punched Malfoy square in the face before storming off.
Ron, unsurprisingly, had little sympathy. He gave Malfoy one last hard glare. "Stay the bloody hell away from him, will you? Hasn't your lot done enough?" he asked before taking off after his best friend. It seemed unnecessary to Lily to threaten a boy who was on the ground bleeding, but the two lions had backed down, for now.
"Are you alright?" she asked, turning to Malfoy wearily. He looked at her through squinted eyes and then laid back on the ground.
"It's always fucking you, isn't it, Granger?" he asked resignedly, not even bothering to wipe away the blood tricking down his cheek.
"I suppose so," Lily replied evasively, and Malfoy sighed.
"No chance you'll leave me to rot?"
"Your guess is as good as mine."
"Obviously not, then." He accepted the hand she extended after some hesitation and pulled himself up. He paled when Hermione's scar peeked out of her sleeve. "You know I didn't mean—"
"I know," she said, looking at his pained expression and thinking of a man now dead. "Believe me, I know."
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[reisa: Hope this chapter answered some of your questions, and maybe brought up some more? I'm so glad you're excited for updates!]