Chapter Eleven: "Oi! Angelina!"
.oOo.
Sunday, October 9th
1977
.oOo.
Hermione panted, doubled over with her hands on her knees. From up ahead, Frank called back.
"Doing alright there, Lils?"
"Just fine, Frank, go on without me!" she squawked, sounding much less fine than she had hoped. Within seconds, Frank was at her side, tugging her along to sit on a rock by the lake.
"I could use a break," Frank said, offering Hermione his water bottle. Although Hermione was certain she could body slam him to the ground, Frank was a fantastic runner. He hardly even looked winded. "You've gotten better from the beginning of the year," he tried, and Hermione rolled her eyes.
"And in comparison to the last?" Hermione had no illusions that even with the same body, Lily would be the better runner.
"Well not all of us have time to run laps like this lout," he said, pointing a thumb to his chest. "Some of us have campaigns to run," he whispered, waggling his eyebrows.
"Ah yes, my great and many campaigns," Hermione said, having no idea what he was talking about. "They've taken the absolute wind out of me."
"They had better have been," Frank replied, suddenly serious. "Remus and Mary have been working nonstop, you're going to go mad when you see it."
Hermione frowned, unsure of what he was talking about. Of all of Lily's friends, Frank was the one who seemed most in tune to all of her machinations, carelessly dropping Hermione clues. She had no idea that Remus and Mary were even particularly friendly, forget that they were working on some sort of secret project together, but she suspected that it was a part of the ever growing intricacies that seemed to surround Lily and SPEW.
"I'm sure I will," she replied noncommittally, wondering how a girl with so much going on could have written nothing down. Lily's journal had nothing but Head Girl business, perfectly respectable but not very helpful, as Hermione could glean the same information from Hogwarts: A History. What she really needed was Lily Evans: A History, because nothing seemed to be as she learned about it.
"Have you found a date for the dance, by the way? I've gotten your gown all in check but I need to know if you're going with somebody." Why Frank was so interested in Lily's affairs, Hermione had no idea, but she was grateful that she wouldn't have to figure out the details of the ball herself.
"Well, Remus laughed me out of the room, so no. Do I absolutely have to?"
"Well Alice is going with me and Mary is bound to find someone to go with to piss off Sirius," he said thoughtfully. "It's your call, really, Lily, but you know where I stand when it comes to these things. Every little thing now can count later, if you play your cards right." Hermione sighed, letting his words wash over her. Sometimes she felt like Lily must have been living some sort of double life, something Hermione was so close to and yet couldn't quite put her finger on.
"What do you want to do when you're older, Frank?" Hermione asked suddenly.
"You mean besides clean up after you and Alice?" He laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back. "Oh, I don't know. Mum will have me running the estates eventually, of course. Maybe she'll finally let me have my way with the greenhouse."
"You plant?" Hermione asked, voice thick with emotion, her panic at the fact that he hadn't answered with "Auror" quelled by a wave of nostalgia. She thought of little Neville Longbottom from her first year and wondered what he would have been like had he grown up on Frank's shoulders instead of in his shadow.
"Well, you've always said I have a knack for cultivating weeds," he winked. "Maybe I'll be your official gardener. We could do Calla Lilies and Lily of the Valley and-" he trailed off and sighed dreamily.
"A toast then," she said, tipping Frank's water bottle, "to your garden of lilies."
"And a toast for the queen for whom they'll bloom," he said, and before Hermione could decipher what he meant, they were off, racing back to the castle to return in time to get ready for breakfast.
.oOo.
"Would you hurry up Evans?" James yelled from down the hall. "We're going to be late!" Hermione dried her hair, still wet from her shower, with her wand, grateful that Lily's hair never seemed to frizz up the way hers did. "How long do you fucking need to take a bloody shower?"
"I'm coming, damn it!" she cried, almost tripping over her desk as she grabbed her bookbag. "And could you stop being so crass? What would Marlene say?" She could hear James sputter incoherently and she laughed. Marlene and James were, much to Hermione's relief, more of a political statement than they were a couple, posing in front of just the right people to make sure word got back to their mothers—and to an extent, Sirius- while they were allowed to do as they pleased. Although Hermione still was not over her initial trepidation concerning the austere Ravenclaw, she didn't want to go at it with Mary again, so she kept her mouth shut. Plus, it was too easy to tease James about it. She bounded down the steps to their kitchenette, and then yelled.
"Now I'm down here and you aren't, how could you possibly be complaining? For all that work on your hair you're still going to look a mess."
"Watch it Evans," James scowled, stomping down the stairs. Hermione instinctively reached out to smooth Harry's wild mop, but he grabbed her wrist and jerked away. "I'll poison your fucking breakfast."
"Does that mean you're cooking for me, then?" Hermione asked, and he reached out as if he were aiming for her neck. Living with James was strange. He was abundantly clever and uncaring and the best way to get to know him was to get under his skin. Hermione was constantly on her toes, the two trading barbs for respect, or something. Although Harry had inherited his wit, he was much less of a spitfire than his father; Hermione and James' constant, acerbic jabs were nothing like Harry's unwavering affection. They exited the Head Suite, not making it very far before they ran into another Marauder.
"Lily-Love, light of my loins!" Sirius cried, bowing dramatically.
"That is not a compliment Black, that's Lolita, and she was grossly underage."
"But it's Muggle, isn't it? Nothing would ruffle Old Mummy's feathers more than quoting Muggle literature around the house."
"Not even Muggle posters?" Hermione teased, and both Sirius and James stopped to stare at her.
Shite.
"How do you know about those?"
"Lucky guess," Hermione tried dismissively.
"Right." Sirius said slowly, squinting at her. Hermione looked at James for help, who shrugged. "What's your deal?"
"I honestly have no idea what you mean," Hermione said, keeping her voice steady. Just before Sirius was going to ask her another question, Marlene McKinnon came flying around the corner.
"Black!" she screamed, and Sirius whirled around, extending his arms to catch Marlene when she made no attempts to slow down. She jumped unbidden into his outstretched arms, and in an act unbelievably uncharacteristic to her, kissed him thoroughly. James coughed, looking more amused than angry, and Hermione thanked Merlin that today was the day Marlene went off her rocker.
"As welcome as this is," Sirius said once Marlene pulled herself away, throwing herself at Hermione for a tight hug before sobering up with James, "do I get to know why you're so happy?"
"It's your mum, your fucking mum, I've done it finally, Sirius! I've gotten her fucking talons out of Alphard's inheritance." At this news, Sirius picked her up and twirled her down the hall. In his excitement, James turned to Hermione and before he seemed to know what he was doing, had his arms extended for a hug. He dropped them quickly, clearing his throat and trying to make it seem like he was scratching his head instead.
Sirius and Marlene came back moments later, the latter giggling as Sirius dragged her down the hall.
"Sorry Prongs, Evans, but we're off to celebrate!" Sirius called over his shoulder, the two racing to the One-Eyed-Witch.
If Hermione was lucky, Sirius was going to get so drunk he would hardly remember his own name, forget his suspicions about her.
.oOo.
Saturday, October 9th
1999
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Lily had a plan, as she usually did. Of course, usually, she had four other pairs of watchful eyes on it, reigning her in when she pushed too hard or went too far. Padma was a good substitute, of course, and she rubbed at her temples and lamented to unspecified deities before admitting that the absolute best thing for Draco would be to publically align himself with them. On a Hogsmeade trip right before a ball, of course, that meant taking him shopping. Padma and Lily were currently walking down the cobblestone paths of the little village, nibbling on twin pastries they had snagged on their way out of breakfast.
"Are you sure you'll be alright with him on your own? I could probably reschedule." Lily was rather tied up with Hermione's friends, so Padma was on her own.
"Oh stop it, go spend time with your friends. The last thing I want is a group of Gryffs angry because I'm monopolizing their den mother's time."
"Well you're my friend too," Lily grumbled. "You could come with?"
"Hermione, you know I adore you, but you entirely fill my quota for goodness. Lunch with Longbottom might actually make my head explode."
Lily reached an arm out as they turned the corner, casually catching Draco's elbow without breaking stride.
"Excuse you," he scowled, almost stumbling. "Haven't I seen enough of you two today?" They had spent the morning touring Lily's new office as the official Potions Apprentice.
"Apparently not," Padma said. "And if you're done sulking in alcoves, there's been a situation. Potter wants to have a ball. Halloween."
"A Halloween ball? Isn't that a little morbid? Even for him?" he asked, straightening out his robes and picking up his pace as dignified as he could. Padma handed him a croissant from her bag which he took without complaint.
"I think it's…sweet," Lily tried. Draco and Padma both paused to shoot her a look. "Fine. It's weird. Regardless, we're going."
"What? How are we going to have time for a ball?" Draco asked. The full moon fell on Halloween this year, and Lily had the sneaking suspicion that Padma wouldn't approve of Lily running out of the ball in her dress for a midnight moonlight marsupial sacrifice. "Another entire month because Golden Boy's decided he wants to try his hand at ballroom? I'll kill the damn rabbit myself."
"You are strictly intel, Malfoy, we've talked about this." There was no way Draco or Padma was going to be anywhere near her when she tried the equivalent of their first draft of the blood wards, for which an unfortunate rabbit was to be volunteered. Not only was it entirely illegal, it was dangerous. "And besides, you won't be free either. You're coming, too."
"Excuse you?" He sputtered on his mouthful of pastry.
"I mean, I am assuming you're coming. It'll be good for you. Recluse doesn't exactly scream capable and unaffected, which is what I should think any respectable scion of a house should be."
Draco closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, reminding Lily of Severus Snape. "I don't like this," he said finally. "And I thought we were looking for books later."
"Don't you listen to anything, Malfoy? There is going to be a ball. We have to get dresses. And since Hermione's off to the lion's den, you get to be my second pair of eyes," Padma said.
"What?" Draco stopped dead in the streets. Perhaps they had finally pushed him too far, Lily thought with a frown. It was a delicate balance between teasing and prodding and demanding to keep him moving, and not having Draco on board was not an option. Of course, Lily did have the handy Life Debt hanging over him like the Sword of Damocles, but she wasn't going to pull that card unless she had to. She and Padma were genuinely concerned about the young heir, and didn't want to leave him to his own devices during an event that was supposed to be fun.
"It's not like you have other plans," Lily tried.
"It's not my fault all my friends have fled the country or are rotting in Azkaban, for fuck's sake!" Lily breathed out a sigh of relief. An angry Draco, she could deal with. It was that melancholy one that scared her. Before she could try and reason with him, Padma had shoved her aside, toe to toe with the man who was her counterpart in almost every way.
"And it's not my fault mine are dead or coping, probably at the hands of yours."
Draco paused, cool grey eyes glaring daggers into Padma's dark brown ones. When she did not back down, he sighed, running his hands over his face.
"You two are insufferable."
"You're a whiny git."
"Will you two stop it?" Lily asked with an exasperated laugh. "I think what Padma is trying to say is that you're a Malfoy and with any luck, you've got the gene for impeccable taste."
"A great and glorious burden," Draco sighed, glaring as Padma handed him her bag with a smug smile. "At least you'll be easier to be made decent than Granger."
"Excuse me?" Lily exclaimed while Padma laughed. She gave Padma and Draco a half-hearted glare, trying to muster up an ounce of annoyance at their antics before she walked off, steeling herself before entering the Hog's Head.
.oOo.
Well into what was sure to be considered inappropriate, even for day drinking, Lily was debating over whether or not she could get Harry and Ron drunk enough to get them to tell her about Horcrux Hunting. She smiled good-naturedly as Ron detailed the disaster that was their flying session. No, this wasn't the time.
"You know 'Mione, you're taking this all much better than I thought you would. I'd reckon Ron's earned himself at least a flock of birds by now," Harry laughed, looking down his shoulder at her.
"Well what can I say, it's hard to stay angry at such a good teacher," she tried, tipping the cup she had been surreptitiously not sipping in Ron's direction. Lily was very good at charming her way out of a situation, need be, and being drunk didn't equate well into this situation. Frank had spent many nights vetting her for the antiquated niceties of the pureblood and powerful, plays she tried to incorporate into her everyday life. "A lady's power," he had said, "is derived from her manipulation and charm, both of which are the same thing, if you're good." And, as she often was, Lily was the best.
"That's quite enough of that, I think," Lily said, pulling Harry's mug away.
"Why does Ron get to keep his?"
"Because Ron can handle his liquor." If Harry was anything like James, he'd be able to drink all of them under the table, but Lily was sure as hell not going to find out. Ron preened under the compliment, laugh cut short when Lily took his mug, too.
"Come on, you two. We haven't even all gotten here. Where is the rest of the motley crew?"
"Well Nev's finally gotten the bollocks to ask out the Hannah Abbot," Harry offered, detailing the shot of whiskey he charmed to look like Felix Felices. Lily's chest swelled with pride, she had done the exact same thing with Remus, who was absolutely shite at potions. She hoped he was doing alright without her.
"Where are Ginny and Luna?" Lily asked suddenly, cutting the story short.
"They've gone looking for dresses, I think," Ron offered. "Gin's over the moon about not having to wear Mum's old stuff." They had gone dress shopping without her? Lily swore.
"Oh for the love of Lady Helga." She groaned, pushing herself away from the table. Ginny had mentioned that at breakfast, hadn't she. "Why didn't you remind me earlier?" If Hermione and the girls were as close as they seemed, it would be unforgivable for her not to be with them right now! Why hadn't she thought of this earlier?Before Ron could answer, Lily was out the door, practically sprinting through the little village. She just wasn't going to catch a break today, it seemed.
.oOo.
Just as Lily finally found the dress store, Padma and Draco stormed out.
"What happened?" Lily asked breathlessly, coming to a shaky halt just before she knocked into an everblooming flower stand.
"Nothing," he said, annoyed. Lily only raised an eyebrow at him.
"It wasn't nothing, Malfoy. Those bitches," Padma said, turning to Lily, "said they didn't want his kind around. Made it seem like he was harassing me or something."
"They did what?"
"Don't you dare, Granger," Malfoy said, sounding more resigned than angry. That was an issue, Lily thought to herself. As much as she wanted to go in there with her wand sparking, it wouldn't solve anything. Padma was sure to have already given them a talking to, and all the attention was probably mortifying for Draco. Lily closed her eyes, thinking of Frank's advice. What would a Lady do? She wrapped her arm around Draco's so he couldn't stride off and waited until a group of girls came to look in the shop window.
"Come on, Draco, Padma," Lily said just loudly enough for them to hear. "What an utter waste of time. I wouldn't be caught dead in one of those, would you?"
"Absolutely not," Padma said. "I can hardly believe they're charging so much for that quality. I could make better dress robes on my own."
"Perhaps that'll be what we'll have to do," Lily replied with a sigh, trying not to smirk as the girls scurried away from the window.
Draco frowned and shook Lily off of him. "Did I really need to be a part of that disgustingly obvious display? For fuck's sake Granger, any idiot would know what you're doing."
"No," Padma said with a little shrug. "But you did say the exact same thing indoors, didn't you? Unless that was just a polite way to say I looked terrible—"
"Absolutely not," Draco cut off. "You," he said, looking at Padma with a curious expression, "were not the problem. Neither of you are going to be clothed in that filth." He tossed his hair over his shoulder with an air of disdain Lily could only laugh at.
"Why would you possibly want to help us, Malfoy? You don't even want to be there. Or here. "
"Yes, but unfortunately, I am going to be there, and so are you; and if you intend to harass me there, as you have been doing in every other aspect of my life, then you should at least be well dressed doing so." Lily suspected that this was as close to affectionate as he was going to get.
"Look, I know about the whole war hero fund, but I don't think either of us are comfortable spending your usual on a Halloween ball."
Draco scowled, looking affronted. "Did I ask you about your purse strings, Patil?"
"No, but one usually exchanges money for goods and services. I really don't know how you expect us to get dresses without paying for them."
Draco looked at them as if they were completely obtuse. "I'm going to write Mother," he said with such finality that both Padma and Lily burst out laughing.
"Aw Drakey, and you say you don't love us," Lily teased, threading her arm through his elbow and pressing against his side. He looked down at her and gave a longsuffering sigh, waiting until they walked out of the store's little alcove to shake her off.
"I don't know about you, but I have actual business to attend to," he said, pulling away and giving the girls a curt nod before storming off.
.oOo.
As soon as he was out of earshot, the smiles dropped of the girls' faces.
"I thought you said it wasn't bad," Lily said, voice hard. The chips had fallen unevenly after the war, and it appeared that their resident snake was quietly bearing the brunt of the aggression that otherwise would be taken out on his fellow housemates.
"I didn't think I was, for Merlin's sake!"
"It must be if he hasn't bloody murdered us already," Lily said pensively. "I honestly thought he was going to put up more of a fight."
"Oh he wouldn't dare," Padma said nonchalantly. "I wouldn't worry about that."
At her smug expression, Lily gasped.
"What did you do, Patil?" she asked, and in a damn good impression of the scene that had just played out before them, Padma turned up her nose.
"I wrote to his mother, of course."
.oOo.
Inside, Ginny Weasley sighed. After years of hand me downs and a limited budget, she didn't know how to shop for herself. She could have anything in the store, she knew, and thus was entirely overwhelmed. Luna had found a dress within moments. Or rather, she found two dresses she was currently hacking apart with an attendant in the back. She wondered when Hermione would come by. Ginny was under no illusions, the anchor of the golden trio was always in high demand, it was just that…Finally, she decided to step out of the fitting room, perhaps Hermione was waiting up front. She sighed in relief when she saw the familiar frizzy head just outside the shop window.
See Gin, she thought to herself. You're always overreacting. She strode to the door, her jubilant hello dying in her throat when she watched Hermione saddle up next to Draco Malfoy, Padma Patil laughing as they walked away.
.oOo.
Sunday, October 9th
1977
.oOo.
After an evening of holing herself up in the library, Hermione resurfaced to get something to eat. She skimmed along the edges of the hallways, always afraid that Professor Snape would catch her out after curfew. Of course, he was a student and Lily was Head Girl, but at this point, snooping about was practically engrained in her. It was for that reason that she had—unintentionally—crept up behind Sirius, scaring the daylights out of him when she greeted him with a timid hello.
"Fuck, Evans!" he exclaimed, jerking his head up from where he had been resting it against the kitchen's stone counters. In front of him, two house elves fretted with a plate, but he paid them no attention.
"Didn't mean to scare you," Hermione replied, sitting down next to him. He eyed her wearily through red rimmed eyes.
"What do you want?" he asked hoarsely, and Hermione had to stop herself from scolding him. She, being the little swot her fifteen year old self had been, had taken a particular responsibility for looking after the Sirius of her time, one he entertained with a chuckle and a wink. This Sirius, however, looked much less capable of swallowing his sorrows.
"What's happened to you, Black? Shouldn't you be celebrating?"
"I am celebrating," he said, gesturing towards the spread in front of him. "I just blew my first galleons on a motorbike and now I'm fucking celebrating. You wouldn't believe how much Uncle Al's left me, now that Marls has got it out of Mum's clutches there's nothing keeping me a Black, technically."
"You're emancipating yourself," Hermione said, understanding. To be completely honest, Hermione herself would have been in much higher spirits having finally gotten rid of the terror that was Walburga Black, but it wasn't too far of a stretch to imagine she was more pleasant before her husband and favorite son passed away.
"And thank Merlin for that," he said, procuring an ornate flask from the pockets of his robe, which Hermione promptly confiscated, much to his chagrin. Although it wasn't exactly the same, Hermione thought of her own parents; lost to her because of her own faults. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to be casted off.
"Don't give me that look, Evans," he said, interrupting her thoughts. "I am fine."
"I can tell," Hermione replied dryly, falling silent. When Harry and Ron were hesitant to speak, it was usually better to just wait it out. Plus, the alcohol that was undoubtedly running through his system would probably loosen up Sirius' tongue a bit. After a few still moments, he sighed heavily, head dropping to the counter again.
"I just don't know what I'm going to do about Reggie. Haven't spoken to the prat all year, of course, but it's just—" Sirius paused, swirling his goblet of water pensively. "What if Prewett was right, you know? What if I can't handle it and I've left Reg behind and—"
"Oh come off it, Black!" Hermione interrupted. "Everybody knows Prewett is a gigantic arsehole and you getting out of there is the best thing you could have done for yourself! What would you have done if you stayed, hmm? Joined the fucking Purist Party?" Or become a Death Eater, she left unsaid.
"I guess you're right," he acquiesced. "I just don't know what I'm going to do now. I'm not clean cut like Frank or as clever as Remus, and James is practically promised a seat on the Wizengamot as long as he doesn't fuck up royally."
"That's all good and true, I suspect," Hermione said, laughing when Sirius gave her a shove, "but you've got better things going for you than your great hair, Black."
"So you admit my hair is great?"
"I'd be a fool to deny it," Hermione replied, lips pursed. "But you're also a talented duelist and you're wicked with Transfiguration and you've got a heart just as pure as any, I'd think," she said, thinking of the Sirius who had broken out of Azkaban to look after his best mate's son. "So I guess all that Always Pure bullshite didn't go completely to waste."
"You're not half bad either, Evans. I mean you're brilliant and fucking terrifying most of the time, but if I had to choose a Supreme Dictator I suppose it would be you."
"I'm not going to be a dictator, Sirius," Hermione replied, rolling her eyes. Whatever Lily wanted to do, she was certain it wouldn't be that.
"Well it wouldn't be you alone, I suppose, considering you've got the brightest of Camelot at your roundtable." Hermione cocked her head, pieces of a puzzle falling into place. The planning, the publicity, Lily and her friends were all vying towards something, something… and Sirius knew what it was.
"Would you join me? Us?"
"And what, secure a place in your new world order?" Sirius looked tentative. "Join the Merry Band of Manipulators…What would I have to do?"
Hermione rolled her neck, considering. "Would you be my date?"
"What?"
"To the ball, I mean. Remus refuses and it'll annoy the hell out of Mary."
At this, Sirius grinned. "You know Frank'll have our heads, kitten, don't you? I don't exactly have the best reputation."
"A talented, powerful, handsome wizard who's just escaped the clutches of the most dreadfully oppressive House in all of Britain?" Hermione leaned in, raising an eyebrow. "That sounds like exactly the kind of man I want on my arm," she said, for once not giving a damn about what Lily Evans would think.
.oOo.
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[Ai Yaah: Oh goodness, thank you so much!] [Dri: I'm so glad Lily's growing on you!]