Hollis woke just after dawn like she usually did, having surprisingly slept without her usual dreams. She still felt bone tired. All she could do was stare up at the dark blue canopy. She couldn't muster the energy that it would require to get up and go about her day.

She tensed, alarm registering and adrenaline shooting through her system.

Where was she?

Hollis pushed herself out of the bed, muscles protesting. Why were her pajamas different? The air wasn't the same charmed, filtered air as the bases. And her eyes swept the room, over the unusually plush and elegant furnishings, and eventually landing on the nightstand. Her wand was there, along with two letters, the tin, and half a vial of muscle relaxer. For a moment, it didn't make sense though she reached out and snatched up her wand all the same. But then it started coming back and she sank heavily onto the bed.

Severus was dead.

Severus was dead.

So much else had happened but nothing else mattered, not really.

She took one deep breath. Then another.

The tin. He'd left her that much. It had the letters and she could treasure those, keep them safe. She'd already read the first one. He had felt something for her, something that could have developed into love.

But she had let the letter fall on top of the tin, so where was it now? Had an elf put it back?

Fervor lighting in her bones, she shot out a hand and snatched up the tin. She fumbled a little as she tugged the lid off of it. It was there, laying neatly on top and she let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

Frank.

The memory came back crystal clear. Frank had come to check on her or something, had found her bawling her eyes out, and he, like Neville would have, had held her, had silently done his best to comfort her without hollow platitudes. He must have seen the letter when she had finally passed out, exhausted by everything. He had most likely been the one to put it back – but had he read it first? Had he figured out who she was?

Neville wouldn't have read it, but Frank wasn't Neville. He didn't know her the way Neville had. She was a stranger to him, a potentially dangerous one, and she was staying under his roof. She was within easy striking distance of his wife and small, helpless baby son, his heir. She would have done it had she been in his place and for much less noble reasons.

The only real way to figure out if he knew who she really was to go speak with him but Hollis didn't move. The moment she'd been sure of the letter's safety, she'd slumped forward, elbows on her knees. The urge to curl up and cry herself back to sleep was creeping up on her again, though, so she forced herself to stand.

It was a new day.

A new decade, even.

Voldemort was still conducting his war on the Wizarding world. Her fight wasn't over. She resolved to leave her grief to the quiet hours of night, where she wouldn't be interrupted, wouldn't be seen (again).

The best thing she could in the meantime was to create a new routine and schedule for herself. Routines were important for mental health and, anyway, it wasn't as though she could follow her old schedule anymore. There was no base to run, no army to lead. That really only left her a few things she knew she could do, and of the lot, she chose to go for a jog. It'd be healthy, it'd get her blood stirring, and she'd get a good look at the lands of the Longbottom estate. Knowing the lay of the land would give her peace of mind.

Finally remembering the muscle relaxer on her dresser, Hollis took half of what was left. Too much would make her groggy and she only wanted enough to soothe her muscles enough for a run.

The elves had taken her clothes during her bath, but they were returned, neatly laying out on the bench at the end of the bed. She tugged them all on and slipped her feet into her boots. She could feel the pain in her muscles easing as the potion worked its wonders and she mentally winced at the sharp reminder of Severus – one could not think of potions and not Severus or vice versa. Potions had been Severus' passion.

If the war hadn't taken over, what would you have been? What discoveries would you have made?

What would I have been? Would we have been anything?

She opened her door quietly, unsure of where Frank and Alice's room was in relation to hers - another thing she'd want to figure out sooner than later, especially if she stayed there for any length of time. Her boots were noiseless, though they were coming due for an update on the charm work on them. Hollis headed down the hall, going down the stairs and through the foyer.

An elf startled her by popping right next to her the moment she touched the door handle.

"Good morning, Miss Grey," Minny said, her grey eyes wide and a little worried.

"Good morning, ah, Minny," Hollis said. The elf barely reached the middle of her thigh.

"Where is Mistress' guest going?"

"For a quick run. I'll be back," Hollis reassured her. The elf looked a bit hesitant, but predictably bowed and let her go. She stepped out onto the porch and breathed deeply, inhaling the frosty morning air. A fresh layer of snow had fallen in the night and she started jogging slowly, not stopping to stretch.

Don't think, don't think, don't think. One foot in front of the other. Make a mental mark of some landscape features, but don't think...

By the time Hollis had returned, showered, and spelled her clothes clean, Frank and Alice were both up and sitting down to breakfast. Minny dragged her there, insisting that she had to eat and that Alice and Frank – well, 'Master and Mistress' – wanted to see her. She entered, feeling a little awkward, but covering it by scanning the room. Five large windows with the heavy drapes pulled back lined the far right wall and a long table stretched to fill the space. They sat at the far end, where there were two other doors that led somewhere. She bet one of them was a servant's entrance to and from the kitchen area.

"Good morning," Alice said with a bright smile.

"Morning," Hollis said, slowly making her way down towards their end of the table. She made it appear like she was looking at the tapestries that hung on the walls, but she mostly stalling and assessing. Frank, predictably, sat at the head, Alice to his right, and Neville perched in a high chair between them.

"Sit," Alice said, gesturing to the seat across from her, the one on Frank's left.

Both of their gazes lingered on her for a moment longer than they would have yesterday, something knowing there.

Hollis sat, meeting Frank's stare evenly.

"So you read it," she concluded.

He blushed and nodded sheepishly. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely.

She shrugged lightly, leaning back in the high backed, heavy old chair. "Don't be. I can't say I would have done it differently. What I want to know is what you two plan on doing about it."

They blinked and traded looks.

"Well, we were mostly planning on helping you. I mean, we were before, but especially so now," Alice said, giving her a peculiar look.

"Wait," Hollis interrupted. "Why?"

"Well, now that I know you're my goddaughter - "

"What?" she said. Her insides turned cold. "You were my…?"

She let out a breath of irritated, shocked laughter.

"You didn't know?" Frank said, confused.

"No, I didn't. No one told me," she said, shaking her head. How could they have kept that from her? She had a right to know. But maybe it was one of those things Dumbledore was trying to shield her from. After all, who told someone 'hey, your parents were murdered, your godfather thrown in prison for it and the murder of thirteen Muggles, and your godmother and her husband were put in St. Mungo's because they were tortured into insanity – have a good year at Hogwarts!'?

"Why not?" Alice asked, her face growing grim. "What happened? To us, to the Potters, to Remus and Sirius. They would have told you about us."

Hollis eyed them. It'd be helpful to have someone who knew some of the gritty details, someone she could trust. And they'd probably agree to swear to keep it a secret. If they were truly like Neville, she wouldn't even need a swear to trust them, but she couldn't be sure they were. Their friendship with the Potters, their trust in Dumbledore, went far deeper than any automatic trust they extended to the future version of Alice's goddaughter.

But did she want to put that on them? Could she put that ugly knowledge on their shoulders?

She shook her head again. "No," she said. "It doesn't matter. I'm going to change it. It'll all only have happened in my mind, then. Like a bad acid trip."

"Like a bad what?" Frank asked.

Hollis waved a hand. "Never mind. Let's go back to the main point of the conversation. You want to help me?"

"Yes," Alice said. "In whatever way we can."

Frank nodded his assent.

"You can eat, you know," he added, gesturing to the platters of food around them. It kind of reminded her of the set up at Hogwarts – there was a jug of juice, bowls of warm, fluffy eggs, bacon, toast, and various jams.

Hollis took a piece of toast to satisfy them and hesitated, then spoke. "Alright. I'm going to need help, so it might as well be from you. First things first...I'm going to need a bit of money."

She hated to ask, but she'd gotten good at asking for uncomfortable things. She'd lead people through war, into war; it was an expensive and unforgiving business. Sacrifices had been made, every knut stretched as far as they could make it.

"How much?" Frank asked. "What for?"

"As Aurors, it's probably best you don't know," Hollis hedged. "Plausible deniability..."

Frank and Alice traded another look, this one longer and more meaningful. Hollis wondered if all couples had the silent communication thing going for them. Ron and Hermione, even before they had gotten together romantically, had it down pat. Of course, Hollis could do the same thing with them, but they had a different, special connection. They had even died together.

It had been back in April of 2000, when their surveillance team had been ambushed. There had been a leak, though they hadn't known about it until it was too late. The small eight person team never had a chance. Hollis and the rest only found out about it that evening, when the sole surviving member managed to make it back. He told them all he could while the medical team worked on him. He hadn't made a whole lot of sense, disoriented by the blood loss, but she gathered enough to know that they had all gone down fighting rather than be captured and tortured, so there wasn't a reason to plan a rescue mission. The man had died only a short hour later.

Severus had been there for that one, thankfully, and got her out of the Medic wing before her control snapped. He escorted her to her room, where she cried and raged and threatened all sorts of things. Skillfully, he avoided anything her temporarily wild magic made explode, and he talked her down, helping her plan how to catch their leak.

They never actually had to put it into effect – the moment the leak, a quiet witch named Tiffany, had heard that the ambush had killed Hollis Potter's two best friends, she fled without taking any of her things. They had gone through her quarters and found a half burnt letter that had confirmed it.

Hollis had passed word along to the other bases, warning them against her, but they never heard of her again until some five months later. In the middle of a duel between them, Voldemort had informed her about how he had let Bellatrix have her as a punishment and how the witch hadn't lasted even an hour in Bella's hands.

"Is it going to hurt anyone?" Frank asked, snapping her out of her memories.

"Most likely not," she said. Right now, her biggest concern was getting a background. If she had background, she'd blend better, be able to get a job, and that sort of thing. She would also need clothes and things of that nature. But she wouldn't guarantee that it wouldn't; there were too many variables to do so safely, and while she could have just lied to pacify them, she figured it was best not to start off that way.

"Are you going to get clothes? You'll need some," Alice said.

"Yeah, that's one of the first things I plan to do. You can't walk around in all leather all the time. Particularly not the same outfit. You'll stand out, look suspicious," Hollis said with a nod. "Someone will cotton on, glamor or not."

"Alright," Alice said, like that settled the matter. Hollis could tell they were both a little wary, but willing to trust her, and she was suddenly filled with warmth for Neville's parents.

Putting jam on her toast, she thought of how unlike them she was. She never would have been able to trust someone just like that, not anymore. The taste of strawberry jam made her aware of how hungry she was. A plate and cup popped up in front of her. She smiled slightly as she put a bit of eggs, bacon, and another piece of toast on her plate, then filled her cup with juice.

Part of her was tempted to indulge. It was the first time she didn't have to eat on rations in ages; magic only did so much when one had very limited supplies and war was hell on labor and economy. But she withheld. She'd get sick if she pushed it too much before getting used to it. However, she felt a small, temporary burst of happiness at the fact that she wasn't on rations anymore. From here on out, Hollis could pretty much eat all she wanted. She would definitely need to work on gaining some weight. She was underweight for her height and age, true, but she was more concerned about how it would give her more muscle, give her more energy to burn.

Then it occurred to her that Severus wouldn't be eating anymore, wouldn't need energy to burn, and her short-lived happiness died quickly. She was extremely careful not to show it, and ate what was already on her plate while listening to Frank and Alice make small talk. Frank went to work when it was over, and Alice had the day off. It turned out that Neville had a playdate with little Hollis.

Hollis had no idea how babies had playdates – what were they going to do? Drool at each other? – but agreed to go with Alice when asked. She was curious about Lily and the people she needed to talk to about a background wouldn't be up at this time of day anyway. Alice said that they could go by Diagon afterwards, and she could get her gold then. Besides, if she was lucky, James and the others would be around and she could go ahead and get the Pettigrew story over with.

At ten, Alice, Neville, and Hollis all flooed to the Potters, and Hollis found herself, not for the first time, glad she had mastered magical travel. It still sucked most of the time, but at least she wasn't tripping out of fire places or coming out of the wrong floo gate anymore.

Lily, James, Remus, and Sirius were all in the living room, little Hollis being held by Sirius, who was trying to get her fist out of his hair. There were a couple of windows to Hollis' left, two doors – one directly across from the fireplace, most likely leading to a kitchen, and one to the right, probably heading outside – and a staircase that led up to the rest of the house. Hollis hadn't ever been inside of their house on Godric's Hollow, she could only remember bits of the entryway and the nursery, but she was sure that this was it.

The room was decorated in light, airy colors that were still warm and inviting, making the space comfortable. The floors were a dark hardwood, the sofas and armchairs neutral shades of green with brown accents, and there was a dark coffee table in the center of the room. On either side of the sofa, there were matching end tables and the arm chairs had been situated so that the whole thing was set up as a half circle in front of the fireplace.

James and Lily were on the sofa with Sirius and Remus was in the armchair closest to Sirius', on Hollis' right. And they were all looking at her with various expressions of surprise and mild wariness. Hollis kept her face unreadable, glancing between them neither too quickly nor too slowly, and finally resting her gaze on her younger self, who now had a piece of Sirius' longish hair in her mouth and was gumming on it. Her green eyes were big and beautiful in her pale, chubby face and her black hair curled against her scalp. Was it longer than most babies her age? Hollis always thought her hair grew too fast, but what did Hollis know about babies? They'd had them on base, but not many and she was never around them.

"Grey, wasn't it?" Remus asked politely first, breaking the somewhat awkward silence. Alice had already moved and sat in the free arm chair, setting Neville's diaper bag on the floor, and keeping Neville in her lap.

"Yes," she said.

"Got a first name?" James asked with a slightly friendly, if strained, smile.

"Liz," she said. It was an old nickname that Lavender and Pavarti had given her, which made it more likely she'd remember to respond to it.

"Liz? Short for anything? Good morning, Alice," Lily said, smiling at her friend and apparently snapping out of her surprise. She reached over and tugged Sirius' hair from baby Hollis' mouth. "Don't eat your uncle's hair, Hollis."

That was going to get confusing quickly if Hollis wasn't careful.

"Just call me Liz if you're not going to use Grey," Hollis said. "I was actually hoping to find you all here. Do you want to hear about Pettigrew or is it too soon?"

They all immediately tensed. Alice didn't react because Hollis had warned her about the probability of her bringing it up. Alice agreed that it was best to let them hear it now rather than later, when they had made their peace with it and all her story would do was drag up old, bitter memories.

"Well," James said, running his hand through his hair like Hollis had seen him do the one time she broke into Snape's Pensieve, only now the move was less arrogant and more just a simple habit. "I guess it's probably best to get it over with..." He looked around and the others soberly nodded.

"Very well," Hollis said, conjuring up a hard wood chair that McGonagall would be proud of. She twisted it, so she was straddling it backwards, her forearms resting on the back of the chair. She'd keep a great deal of it secret, simplifying the story as much as possible, but she'd try and keep it as honest and clear as possible. "I guess the beginning of the story starts this year, on Halloween. Voldemort had targeted the Potter family – you three – because of some half-baked prophecy and you had chosen Sirius as your Secret-Keeper. But last minute, he had the brilliant idea to switch Keepers – make Pettigrew the real one but let it slip that it was Sirius, the logical choice.

"You kept it from everyone, including Dumbledore and Remus. But Pettigrew betrayed you two – " She gestured to the Potters, who looked pale. " – to Voldemort and he attacked on Halloween. You both, ah, died, and Voldemort lost his body, but your daughter survived with little more than a scratch." They looked relieved to hear it, though still very pale. Sirius' eyes were glittering dangerously and Lupin looked even more exhausted than ever.

"Sirius immediately put it together and went after Pettigrew, cornering him the next day on a Muggle street. Pettigrew shouted, 'James and Lily, Sirius? How could you?' and blew up the street, killing thirteen Muggles. In the chaos, he cut off his finger and escaped into a nearby drainage ditch as a rat. He's an Animagus, Alice, and God only knows how he managed it without killing himself. Sirius, not exactly in his right mind, started laughing hysterically. Little Peter had gotten the jump on him. And that's when Aurors and Hit Wizards showed up. He was thrown in Azkaban without trial – the war was over, the Potters were dead, and their only child heralded as a hero. He was laughing when they found him and he said that he had done it – what did they need a trial for?"

She paused for a moment, giving them a minute to absorb that and ask questions if necessary, but they didn't say anything.

"Fast forward some years into the future, to the summer before my third year, right before I turned thirteen. I lived in the Muggle world during the summers, with some relatives, and I heard about a criminal, a Sirius Black, escaping from a prison – " She half expected one of them to interrupt about Sirius being the first to break out of Azkaban, but they remained silent. " – though I noticed they didn't say where. I didn't know who he was, but I found out from my friend's father that he was a really dangerous criminal, though they didn't tell me what he had done. But I was thirteen and it didn't concern me, so me and my two friends boarded the train and ended up in a compartment Remus, who was asleep.

"We knew he was our newest Defense professor because the last one had used a broken wand to try and Obliviate a student and it backfired, so he lost his memory completely. Anyway, Remus – Professor Lupin, as he was then – slept most of the trip, only waking up near the end. He was definitely the best teacher we had up to that point, and the only one who didn't have a psychotic bone in his body.

"Fast forward again until the end of the year, and me and my two friends, Bill and Jean, were walking back from Hagrid's when this huge dog came bounding up. He ended up catching my friend by the leg and dragging him under the Whomping Willow and, somehow, Bill's leg broke. Me and Jean raced after him, of course, and when we got up into the Shrieking Shack, Sirius was there too. It got kind of chaotic and Sirius wasn't making much sense and then Remus showed up, having seen Bill getting dragged off from a window.

"It got worse when Remus seemed to know Sirius, whom, it had been rumored, had been Voldemort's right hand man, and they kept mentioning someone named Pettigrew." She let her voice sound distant, as though she was back in her memory, but really she was keeping an eye on them. They looked much the same as ever – pale, horrified, and very interested. Even the babies were still and silent. "Eventually, Remus calmed everyone down enough to toss their wands to us so they were more or less defenseless, and then had Sirius tell the story because Remus didn't know the whole thing himself.

"Sirius explained about the Secret-Keeper switch and how, the previous summer, when the Minister came by for his annual inspection, he had stopped by Sirius' cell. Sirius had asked for the paper, saying he missed the crossword puzzles, and the Minister gave it to him. On the cover was Bill's family, who had been featured for winning some money in the Ministry draw or something, and on Bill's shoulder, was his pet rat, who just happened to be missing a toe. Sirius instantly recognized him as Pettigrew and started plotting how to get out of Azkaban. Hollis was in school by this point, a Gryffindor like me and my friends, which meant that Pettigrew would have an easy time getting to her. So he broke out and made his way to Hogwarts.

"Finally, Remus talked Bill into handing over the rat, who was freaking out, and they made him transform back. He tried to escape, but they cut him off and demanded answers, which is how I learned of all of this, and he pleaded with them to spare him, to understand. They refused and he turned to us, appealing to Bill as being a good pet, which was creepy beyond belief and Bill looked nauseated and in extreme pain from his leg. Then he turned to me and Jean because we're girls and supposed have sympathy. And it worked, kind of, we talked Sirius and Remus into turning him in and letting the Dementors have him, so that Sirius' name could be cleared."

She shrugged and fell silent.

"That's it?" Sirius finally said. "What happened? Did he get thrown in Azkaban? Did he get Kissed? What about me? Was I cleared?"

Hollis sighed. She had known they were going to ask, but she hadn't known what she was going to tell them. She couldn't lie to them – what if she forgot about it later or said something contradictory to it? – but she didn't want to explain everything either.

"No," she finally said. "There were some...extenuating circumstances, and he ended up escaping again. He went on to help give Voldemort his body back and started the Second War, which turned into World War III. He died, though, in '97, after I called in the life-debt he owed me for talking Sirius and Remus out of killing him. But without him and because of the corruptness of the Ministry and then the war, Sirius wasn't ever cleared. But after a certain point, it didn't matter anymore anyway."

"Damn," Sirius swore. "I didn't get thrown back in Azkaban, did I?"

"No."

"Well, there's that, at least..." Sirius muttered, looking most dissatisfied.

"It's a better fate than some," Hollis agreed with another shrug.