A/N - Hi! All Lily means an all (or most) Hermione this chapter. As a thank you to old and new readers, thinking about fulfilling a one-shot request at 150 reviews. More at the bottom :)
Chapter 17: Prom?
.oOo.
Halloween, 1977
.oOo.
"Mickey you absolute minx!" Sirius Black laughed, arm thrown around SPEWs treasurer and Hermione's unwitting nemesis. She wore a long slip dress with golden tassels that spun as James twirled her around at Remus's behest. "However did he talk you into it?"
Marlene shrugged, impervious of Sirius' glee at seeing the two together. He was clearly gunning for a Marlene and James romance, despite the fact that Marlene did little more than glance over his notes for his speech before smoothing out his lapel and traipsing off to find her own friends. To do so little and have won Sirius' approval for his friend seemed unjust, not to mention that Hermione hasn't forgotten what James has said in the heat of their argument just moments before, but she was doing her best. She hadn't found a reason to be irritated with Remus, but the night was still young.
She was exceptionally grateful when Alice, in her full Lady Gryffindor regalia, parted the Marauders with a staff. "Excuse me, gentleman, but I've grown bored of lending out my best company,"
Mary hooked an arm around Hermione's elbow, and as she was steered away, Hermione could see Peter Pettigrew approach his friends. Hermione still didn't know what Lily's problem with Peter was, but she wasnt going to question it. She felt a surge of affection for the two young women, who, despite letting Lily take on the burden of her ambitions, took care to wrap around her with affection when it wouldn't slow her down.
"Did Potter and I do it justice, do you think?" she asked, pushing aside the crystalline strands of a willow tree. The ball was set to look as though it was out of an enchanted forest, and Hermione was reminded of the familiar dark blues and sparkling whites of the Cinderella movie she had watched as a child. When they looked at her in question, she sighed. "Oh, I don't know. Mary's artistic vision, for one. Seventh year, the lot of it"
"Sweet Circe, Lily, I have never seen you this sentimental. Are you feeling alright?" Mary teased, taking the back of her hand to Hermione's forehead.
"Shut up," Hermione laughed, pushing her hand away. "I'm allowed to be a little sentimental, aren't I? It's our last dance."
"As if this is our last anything." Alice stepped up onto a window ledge. " I for one," she said, throwing her arms open, "am ready for more." Hermione supposed it wasn't unfair of Alice to be unable to imagine a future without the three of them together. The one awaiting her wasn't much of a future at all.
"She's right," Mary said. "Don't look so glum, Lily, gods. We're going to be doing this exact same thing next year, except maybe all dressed up for Alice's wedding. Wagers on who is going to try and propose tonight?"
"Not Frank," Alice rolled her eyes. "It's so embarrassing." Mary raised a solitary eyebrow, and Alice shook her head. "Don't even suggest it, Frank would never."
"And what would be so bad about a proposal?" Hermione asked, genuinely unsure. "You're in love with the man."
"Oh, sweet Lily," Mary sighed, taking her arm in one hand and spreading the other out in front of them, as if painting the quasi-victorian scene. "Proposing on All Hallow's just means some pureblood mother's darling is too desperate for a shag to wait until graduation."
"And," Alice said, "proposing at graduation is for boys who think graduating from Hogwarts is enough to somehow earns them their unholy inheritance."
"You realize Frank is both a mummy's boy and a Gringott's baby, don't you?" Hermione asked, causing Mary to burst into laughter as Alice blushed and stuttered.
"I swear to Morgana if Frank's said a word of this to either of you and you haven't stopped him, I'll- Mary quit laughing!"
Unwilling to torture the girl any further, Hermione made her way towards her own date, who had safely split from the Rat, and was not-so-surreptitiously sipping on a flask as Dorcas Meadows needled him about his ill-advised obsession with the Chudley Cannons.
"Oh thank Merlin," Sirius said when Hermione stole him away. "Doe's lovely, don't get me wrong, she's just —"
"Right about the Cannons? And smitten with Mary, if I've heard correctly, so I'm afraid you won't have much luck making her jealous."
"Hmm?"
"When I asked you to the ball, you said yes because it would make Mary jealous."
"I did," he said, slowly, offering her his hand as the music began to play. "But that feels like a long time ago."
Begrudging company or not, Sirius Black was an excellent dancer, remembering which turns were quarter turns and which were halves, and tugging Hermione gently in the right direction when she stumbled over a step. When he lifted her into the air for the first time, he put his thumb on her golden scarab brooch, activating the clever charm she and Frank worked on. In the low lighting, the threads began to slow, outlining scuttling beetles as they traveled the length of her dress. It was sufficiently festive for the occasion, and earned her a few gasps of delight from the Head's Table. She hardly had the time to smile before Sirius was swept away, and Hermione herself was surprised at the number of young men who, under the guise of polite company, asked Lily to dance. Some, like Frank, simply took the opportunity to have a conversation, but others stood too close, emboldened, undoubtedly, by the fact that as Head Girl, she was obliged to mingle. By the time she had finished making the rounds, Hermione could not toss the current pair of sweaty palms off her person fast enough.
"You know," she told Sirius near the end of the night, when the two, tired out, took to watching Alice and Frank take a rare moment to themselves. "You're a very attentive date for someone who's here on a favor."
"He told you about that, did he?" Hermione almost laughed at the way he paled. "I wanted to tell you, but he was so-" She stopped him, shaking her head. "You're not mad?"
"Oh, I am most certainly mad," Hermione replied, as she imagined any young girl would be. "But I have little interest in causing a scene amidst all our hard work, so I've decided to take it up with you tomorrow."
"When I'm hungover, you mean? After all of my hard work at the party tonight?
"Well the punishment should fit the crime, I think. And I think we deserve one day to feel normal."
"Tough luck with that one," he snorted.
"What do you mean?"
"Just that, I don't think you have a frame of reference for what that means, you know? What do you even do on holidays, study Sun Tzu?"
"Do you?" Hermione asked, trying to picture what the Black Family library might look like. Sirius only shrugged, and Hermione glared. "You do not. Name one book you've read this semester, and magazines do not count."
"Are we in Muggle Studies now? Is this a quiz? My punishment for forgetting that our dear Head Girl is also an unbearable swot?"
"You're a git," she told him, with no venom behind her words. Lily had once accused Hermione of prancing around, living the Seventh year she never got to. It was a generally inaccurate statement, today alone had been a nightmare, but in that moment, in a pretty dress with an old friend, she couldn't help but feel a little guilty.
"I got you something, by the way." Sirius said, reaching into his dress robes. He procured a bracelet, a dark green glimmering stone strung between thin silver strands. It was simple in the way that most nice things were, and looked as though it was meant for her, matching the ribbon around her waist, and of course, her eyes.
"Sirius," she stammered for a moment. "Why?"
At this, Sirius burst into laughter, the corners of his eyes folding up into shallow creases that would one day become his characteristic crow's feet. "Thank you, Sirius, it's beautiful, I'll keep it forever," he mocked, shaking his head. "Not a witch in the world like you, Lily Evans."
Hermione barely had time to put it on when Alice, with her nearly omniscient Seeker's Eye, stared at her wrist, at Sirius, and at the space between the two.
"Ready to wrap up, Lily?" Frank asked, his bland disinterest pointed in contrast to Alice, who looked like she was bursting with questions. James and Hermione had opted for closing remarks instead of the opening speech, which Hermione had no issue with. All they had to do was say thank you and remind the Seventh years to stay safe with wink, since the Heads were not allowed to attend the annual after party. Which, of course, formally, they did not even know was occurring.
"Looks like nobody's gotten down on a knee yet, but I'll find you first thing tomorrow if someone tries it tonight, " Alice managed finally. A part of her wondered if she should nip Alice's suspicions in the bud, but she thought of the time Ginny had caught Blaise Zabini trading cards from chocolate frogs with Luna. They had crowed with delight for the whole afternoon, and raided Ron's collection to try and trade cards for intel. She'd let Alice dream for the evening.
Hermione was still thinking about her friends when she approached the podium, wondering what they were doing as she looked out at the crowd. Distracted, she didn't notice the head of dark hair and familiar silvery eyes trying to catch her attention until it was too late.
Something overhead tumbled like thunder. The charmed night sky opened up, and blood poured down like rain through the twisted branches above them. James reacted first, arm around her torso to yank her out of the way, and when she turned around to face him, he was covered in the blood from her dress. The whole Hall fell silent for a moment, fear, confusion, and for some, even satisfaction playing out across the crowd.
Unable to control herself, Hermione began to laugh. She knew she should stop herself, hysterics bubbling up in her throat like a cauldron boiling over, but she couldn't. It was just all so asinine, the rivalry, the inevitable revenge. It doesn't matter! She wanted to scream. You're all going to die, anyways! She might as well set the ball ablaze and lock the doors herself.
Mary must have thought the same thing, because Hermione's dress began to transform into one of pink silk, a tiara appearing on her head. They really were clever girls, pretending that this had been planned, pretending that something was not so painfully wrong with the dear Head Girl. She bared her teeth in a grin and waved to the crowd as she imagined a prom queen would.
Some of the muggleborns in the crowd, the first to understand the reference, began to laugh, and soon, the hall buzzed with relieved explanations and nervous laughter.
"Happy Halloween!" she said, and she began her speech.
.oOo.
[James]
"Apparently some muggle film," James told Marlene as he walked her back to the Ravenclaw tower. "Cassie, or something? Leave it to Evans to play a prank not even a half of the room would get."
"Carrie," she corrected. "The muggleborns got it. It was well received, from my understanding. The movie anyways."
"What have muggle movies got against us anyways? It's always fire this, murder that."
"I think that's how most of their media is. And besides," she said, returning the hat she had borrowed by the end of the night. "I'm sure they've never met a Wizard as charming as you."
"You mock me."
"Mostly," she shrugged. They had made it to the bottom of the tower, and Marlene turned to him, looking thoughtful. "You're sure it was Evans who planned it, though? I sort of thought it was your lot, and she was just being a good sport."
At this, James bristled. "I'm not a savage, Marlene, for fucks sake! How are you even asking me this?"
"Sorry, sorry! I know, you're right. Just thought I'd cover my bases." When James' scowl did not let up, Marlene gave him a theatrical pout. "Don't be angry, Jamie, I know you had nothing to do with it. You're a terrible actor."
"Insult to injury, a classic apology."
"Okay, fine. Accept what I put in the hat instead?"
James weighed the hat in his hand, it didn't feel any different. "I swear to god McKinnon if this is a rabbit-" He reached into it, and retrieved what looked like a small package wrapped in plastic. "Is this Muggle popcorn? What'll you have me do, take lessons from Carrie while you party into the night?"
"It's not my fault having the Head Boy at your party is a buzzkill Potter. Go find Evans and commiserate, she loves the stuff. Or sulk alone, whatever."
"I'll be a star one day, I tell you," he replied dryly, "and then you'll be sorry."
"Goodnight!"
"Wait, Marlene!" he called after her, but she had already dissapeared up the stairs. "How am I supposed to pop this?"
.oOo.
Hermione Granger was not unused to being covered with blood, so her calm following the curious unfolding of the evening's events was not to be unexpected. It was the calmness of her current company that was unsettling. Sirius Black, of course, did not know the difference, and had decided that they were all mad. He had finally been let in after banging on the door of the Prefect's Bathroom, where members of SPEW were cycling in and out. Mary and Remus were to stay at the ball to keep an eye on the crowd, and Frank and Alice were to join them at the afterparty.
"What is wrong with you people?" Sirius asked when he realized they intended to go on with their night as planned. "You saw what they did to her!"
"It's not what they did," Frank explained. "They were trying to send a message to us. To everyone. If she hadn't carried on, they would have gotten the last word. Which, honestly, I still don't even know what it was, forget who said it."
Hermione was sitting as still as she could manage, while Alice wiped her face off with a warm washcloth. "It doesn't make any sense," Alice agreed. "The only arseholes fanatical enough to do something like that this would never watch a muggle movie, but it certainly doesn't seem to be a coincidence."
"Well let me help you figure it out, at least." He turned to Hermione. "You don't think it has something to do with those letters?"
"What letters?" Hermione asked, gently pushing Alice's hand away.
"I thought James told you? Why he asked me to..." When it was clear none of this was ringing a bell, Sirius groaned. "Oh, fuck me."
He told them about the anonymous letters the Head Suite had been receiving, demanding that Lily resign from her post. "I never got a look at them, but James said it was something about restoring glory, I don't know." he said. "Dumbledore thought it was a prank, but James has been trying to keep an eye on things, anyways."
"And you didn't think this was worth sharing why?" Alice asked, voice shrill.
Sirius grimaced, shifting his weight as though what he said would cause him physical duress. "He didn't want to add to your plate, Lily. We, erm, heard about your mum."
It was the first Hermione was hearing anything about Lily's mum, so it wasn't hard to imagine how the girl would react to James' ill-advised efforts to protect her. "Well, if you're really trying to do me a favor, would tell Potter to keep word of my mother out of his fucking mouth? Or should I write him a letter instead, since apparently only he's got the wherewithal to handle them?"
"That's obviously not the case!" Sirius shouted, immediately wincing at the tone of his voice. "Lily, it was wrong to keep it from you, I know," he said, softer this time, "but Incan help you, both of us, we can help you!"
Sensing things were becoming tense, Frank stood up, clapping a hand on Sirius' shoulder. "You've already been incredibly helpful, Black, thank you. You should go on to the party, we'll catch up to you there."
"What do you mean, go on? I'm her date!"
Hermione looked at the bracelet around her wrist, and thought about Narcissa's warning. There was nothing Hermione wanted more than to have Sirius stay. He would ask the questions she was supposed to know the answers to, and would do his best to make her laugh, she knew.
Instead, she kept her eyes on the door behind him. "Were my date, you mean. Ball's over, Black," she said.
.oOo.
When Hermione had finally gotten a second to think about it, to get out of her dress and take off her shoes, it hadn't been the worst day. Certainly the worst day as Lily Evans, from the bells to the Board, and now this, but it wasn't the worst day of Hermione's life by a long shot. She lay outside on the charmed piece of grass she and Alice would sometimes picnic at. The castle was quiet, the younger years asleep, and the seventh years undoubtedly partying in the Room of Requirement for their rite of passage raged. She tried reaching Lily, perhaps she could trade pieces of this disastrous day for tidbits of news about her friends, but Lily never opened her compact, so Hermione simply stared at her reflection. Hermione cared very little about the drama James' had unwittingly started, but was hurt that she'd inevitably have to take sides that would push her further from the Mauraders. If nothing else, Sirius and Remus were the only two people in this twilight zone she knew. On her worst days back home, she at least had least Ron and Harry, but here, on this not-quite-as-bad-but-still-a-bummer evening, she sat alone.
At least, she did for a while, before James Potter, looking glum, appeared in the night air. He wore a wool coat over his flannel pyjama bottoms. It was harder to ignore him when he looked like Harry, less now, because her heart confused the two of them, but more because she remembered what was at stake in the first place.
"If you're going to offer me that popcorn, Potter, you should know that I am not in the mood for conversation."
"I really think we should talk, Evans."
"It wasn't a prank, I know about the letters, and you're an idiot. I'm sure you're very sorry, but I couldn't give a shite, frankly. Would you say I've got a good grasp on the situation?"
"About sums it up, yeah," he winced. "Except, just, don't be mad at Sirius. He wanted to tell you."
"I know, Potter, gods. And I'll decide who i'm upset with, thank you."
"Okay, okay, you're right." he acquiesced, setting the bag down and stepping back. He began to turn away, but instead, he called out. "How did you know all of that, anyways?"
Hermione began to tell him that Sirius had found her after the ball, but instead, she was reckless.
"I'm from the future," she said, her tone sardonic.
"Right," he said, hands in his pockets. "Does it get any easier, then? What you're dealing with. What all muggleborns are dealing with, I guess."
At this, Hermione paused.
"Harder for a while, then better, then harder again. Possibly forever, depending on how long this conversation lasts."
Ever unpredictable, James seemed more impressed than disheartened. "Point taken, Evans. It's just— is there anything I can do?"
"So I've got to live through it and do the thinking for you, too? SPEWs got a journal club, join us for Muggleborns Monday's," she said, putting in her best club vice president voice. "And I assume Frank will seize you for questioning at the break of dawn about those letters."
"Read a book, got it, I meant now though, for you."
Against her better judgement, she turned to look at the glimmering dark lake. "You can sit with me."
"What?"
"Nevermind, you're right. No company would be better than this."
"No, no, I can." He laid down his wool coat, sitting gingerly on one end and letting the other fall over Hermione's feet. "Still no talking, though?"
"Another word and I'll hex you into next Tuesday morning." He stiffened at the threat, as though he wanted to lob one back, but instead, he shuddered.
"Divination," he said by way of explanation, and despite herself, Hermione laughed.
She lay back on the soft ground, the only spot on the lawn not covered in snow, and watched as James entertained himself by throwing pieces of popcorn into the air and catching them with his mouth. He caterpaulted from indignant to amused, apologetic to agreeable so quickly Hermione could hardly keep up, but at least, he had the good sense to do as he was told, for once. The two sat in silence for a while. The air was crisp, and smelled like far away fire from Hagrid's hut, and, a bit curiously, like freshly cut grass.
Hermione hadn't realized she had dozed off until she was awoken by a harrowing screech. She jolted up, the wool coat sliding off her shoulders. Up ahead, James, who had been skipping stones at the lake's edge, sprinted back, barely pausing to pull her up as they ran towards the castle.
"I can't tell where it's coming from!" James nearly tore down a tapestry in frustration. The halls were swarming with professors now, and the chaos was drowning out the sound.
Hermione leaned against the walls, closing her eyes. If they'd heard it from outside, perhaps it was one of the towers. Instead, she realized, she could hear something beyond the way. "Tell me it's not the damn pipes" she groaned.
James looked at her with wide eyes. "The tunnels," he said, grabbing her hand once more. "Come on, I think I know where they are."
Hermione let James lead her through an intricate set of tunnels. Some, like the ones near the Three Eyed Witch, she recognized, but others were unfamiliar, filled with what looked like artifacts and forgotten decor. They crouched into a small offshoot, and when the tunnel opened back up, they found themselves in the middle of what must have been the party.
"Oh, Lils, thank heavens." Hermione was nearly bowled over by the force of her hug. "You too, you bloody idiot" Alice said, squeezing James just as tight. He pat her on the back of the head stiffly, as if he wasn't sure what to do with the small witch, and looked at Hermione in surprise before prying himself out of her grasp.
"What's happened, Alice?" she asked.
"The lights went out, and when we got them back on, Flo Abner was on the ground. Just collapsed, out of nowhere. Mary and Frank are getting her to the infirmary, but it's just happened again with Charlotte Wells." She had barely finished her sentence before James took off, roaring for Sirius' help,
"Frank's doing his best, but with what happened to you earlier, people think this is some sort of attack. I know you've been having a rough go of things lately but we have to decide. Tonight."
Hermione stared blankly. Decide on what?
"Don't you think we should wait until we hear from Madame Pomfrey? Make sure the girls are alright before any more decisions?"
"An reasonable proposal," Frank cut in, waving Hermione over to where he was standing at the back of the room. "but, erm, I'm afraid we don't have time for that."
"What do you mean?"
He gestured towards a closed door, and Hermione opened it slowly. It led out, she realized, into what had once been a small classroom, rows full of angry students, many of them from SPEW, theorizing amongst themselves. If someone didn't do something soon, it was going to be a witch-hunt.
Hermione slammed the door shut, back against the ancient wood. "So, tonight then?"
"It's now or never," he said.
"I— I need to pee."
Frank, ever patient, looked at her flabbergasted.
"Look, Lily," he said, rubbing his temples. "Is there any way you could just, I don't know, try a kegel, or something? Anything so you can address them before we have a riot on our hands."
Hermione thought of Lily, and her penchant for hyperbole.
"I need five minutes, Frank! I swear, if you don't point me to a bathroom this instance I will piss these pyjamas right here like Merlin himself."
"Bloody hell," Frank laughed, doing as he was told. Perhaps Hermione would have to take up the practice more often.
.oOo.
Halloween, 1999
.oOo.
Lily Evans put on Luna's glasses and stared into her compact, cursing herself for not putting two and two together before it was too late. Luna must have given them to Draco for the wrackspurts, which, as she had been told, fed on secrets. Granted, when she had been looking for something from Hermione the one time she had worn them, she hadn't exactly been admiring her reflection. The bloody tattle-tales were practically flocking to her, and Draco, with the aftertaste of Veritaserum still in his mouth from his (very illegal) questioning, must have noticed.
Thankfully, she had been swept away by the Healers before she could see Draco's reaction to her saying she wanted to be called Lily. She'd either chalk it up to the poison, or would be transferred to the Thickney ward as soon as she healed up. Either way, she had some time.
At least Hermione's star status had gotten her a small room of her own at St Mungos. She didn't have to throw the mirror across the room when it began to heat up.
"Granger," she said coolly, holding it close to her face, lest Hermione realize where she was.
"I've been calling you all day, what took you— wait," Hermione paused. "You look like shite. And why have you got a scarf on?"
She had conjured it last second, realizing the bandages would be a dead giveaway. "I, erm, got a hickey from Terry Boot."
"You what? Any other day, Evans," Hermione said through gritted teeth. "Look, I need your help, Frank's—"
"Although I do love a good favor," Lily said, pieces sliding into place. " I'll have to admit, I'm much more fond of an exchange."
"Fine, fine, just help me!"
Lily grinned. "Head Girl, at your service."
.oOo.
A/N: If I had to read the heinous JKR update about how Wizards used to vanish their waste before they adopted the use of plumbing, you do, too.
Thanks, as always, for reading, following, favoriting, and most of all, for your kind words! I started this story sometime ago trying to bring something new to this already very rich fanfiction world, and it's so nice to hear that it is still resonating with folks the way it still does with me. Hey, at the rate I am posting now, maybe I'm on track for a normal updating schedule! Your feedback is so heartening and serves as motivation, so thanks again.
This is probably a chapter or two off, but I thought as a thank you I would take a request from my 150th reviewer. It'll either be incorporated into the plot (the request from my 100th reviewer will take place in their timeline in December, so soon!), or I'll write it as a one-shot/aside. It can be a character you want to know more about, a scene I allude to but didn't actually write out (a Hermione/Alice picnic, for example), let me know!
