Hermione was somewhat apprehensive when she floo to Diagon Alley, bracketed by Madame Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall. The image in her head was a dreary sight of boarded up windows and deserted streets, the odd group of people scurrying to their needed destination without preamble. What she saw instead, sent her through a rush of memories she had nearly forgotten.
Diagon Alley was bustling, alive, and colorful. It was so vibrant it was like she was seeing it for the first time. Tears sprang to her eyes, her heart felt a conflicting pull of relief and loss. Relief at not finding the desolation of her time but loss, also, as it also served as a reminder of everything she left behind. She half expected to see a cluster or redheads approaching her or Harry waving as he ran to meet her.
It was silly, in a way, the things that triggered her grief. It felt odd to be grieving, knowing that technically there wasn't anything to grieve yet. Her life had yet to even be born, the friends she had weren't even thought of, and her parents didn't even know each other yet. But, grief is the only way she could feel sometimes.
Madame Pomfrey, noting the distressed expression on her face, suggested that they stop for a bit of ice cream before moving towards Olivanders. McGonagall looked hesitant until she glanced at Hermione then her eyes took on a maternal look. "Of course, Poppy. What's a day at Diagon Alley without going to Fortescues?" Then she hooked her arm with Hermione's and they made their way to the ice cream shop.
Hermione was slightly shocked, never knowing Professor McGonagall to make contact with a student in such a friendly way, but grateful for it anyway.
Surprisingly Hermione did feel better after acquiring a bowl full of chocolate ice cream. At a slow pace they window shopped as they ate their treats. Hermione giggled when Madame Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall both wandered to different stores across from each other. One ended up with a look of disgust at the price of toad spleens and the other was cooing at a new model of a racing broom in the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies.
Even though they were there specifically to get her a wand the two older women seemed to come to an unspoken agreement, and they ended up doing some other shopping. Allowing Hermione to pick out a few personal items. She got to pick up some toiletries, a few changes of clothes for Hogsmead trips, and a heavy winter cloak with a fur lined collar that was so soft that it felt like clouds against her skin, and a pair of matching fur lined boots that were spelled to stay dry; at Madame Pomfrey's insistence.
"I don't expect you to be fully recovered by winter, so it's imperative you stay warm, dear," she sniffed, folding her arms under her traveling cloak.
McGonagall also insisted that Hermione stop into Flourish & Blotts, when she saw her looking longingly at the building.
She wandered the shop looking at various books on different magic; Practical Transfiguration, One Minute Meals, Herbology for Your Home. She ended up finding a back corner that held a couple of shelves of muggle novels. She spent the longest time here. Looking through the modest shelves of mostly classic literature.
"Find a couple of things you want to get, Miss. Granger?" Asked McGonagall, leaning over to look at the shelf Hermione was examining. Her eyes skimmed the titles, curiously.
"Oh, yes!" Said Hermione, smiling enthusiastically. Feeling that, for once, she felt familiar to herself. She hefted a small stack of books in her arms. McGonagall just gave a shockingly warm smile.
"Alright then, let's go. We still have a wand to get, and if we're out much longer I fear Poppy will start lecturing us."
After leaving the shop they headed straight to Olivanders. As they approached the shop the pleasant haze the morning had put her in started to give way to some of Hermione's earlier misgivings. Olivander was an eccentric wizard and had an uncanny ability to observe a person's potential upon first meeting.
She remembered the first time she entered the shop. McGonagall was also present then, accompanying her and her nervous parents into the dim, dusty shop. Her younger self was too excited to wait, going in ahead of them as soon as the older witch pointed out the shop. Now she followed behind Madame Pomfrey and her Professor, her stomach feeling like it was tied in knots.
The bell rang and they waited a moment. From the shadowy back of the shop emerged an older man, that had barely changed since she had last seen him fifteen years in the future. He wasn't very tall, but his pale eyes felt like they could look right through to your soul.
"Ah, Minerva! 9 and ½ inches, fir and dragon heartstring, stiff, good for transfiguration. Still in good working order I hope?" The man asked enthusiastically.
"Yes, it has been very faithful," McGonagall responded.
"Poppy! Hawthorn and unicorn hair, 8 and ¾, beautiful for healing spells," his gaze fell on Pomfrey expectantly.
"It has never failed me, Mr. Olivander," she acquiesced, sitting in a chair set out for parents to wait.
"Now who is this, I have not met this young woman before," his cloudy gaze fell on Hermione, assessing her, taking in her improving, but still sickly appearance. Hermione could tell he was putting two and two together. The Hogwarts nurse along with the Deputy Headmistress accompanying an unwell looking 16 year old witch well past the beginning of term.
"Miss. Hermione Granger here is in need of a new wand after…" McGonagall paused, her gaze went oddly blank as her lips pursed into a flat line. "Well, she is here for a new wand," she finished, almost lamely. Following Madame Pomfrey's lead she sat down.
Olivander just took a moment to observe Hermione. His gaze missed nothing as she could swear his eyes lingered on the thin silvery scar on her neck.
"Alright, my dear. Can you tell me a bit about your old wand?" He asked, summoning tape measures to take in her height and arm length. It didn't do anything silly like measure the width of her nostrils and she suddenly realized that those were things to distract and put children at ease. She felt a kernel of affection for the elder man when she realized he put in that effort for scared eleven year olds entering this world for the first time.
"Vine wood, almost 11 inches with a dragon heartstring core," she spoke in a near whisper as she watched a quill write down her measurements. She missed her wand. It felt like an extension of herself and waking up here without it felt like she was missing a limb.
"Curious," he said, eyes sharp on her. "Very curious." He turned and walked through the shelves. He was gone longer than she remembered him taking to bring out a selection of wands when she was eleven. Dust motes lazily wandered through the beams of sunlight that were filtering through the window. She glanced back at the older women, McGonagall had a quizzical expression on her face as she gazed at where the wandmaker disappeared. Finally, he returned with three boxes, but discarded two when one let off golden sparks, burning a hole in it's box. He set it on his desk and ushered her over.
"Vine wood is a rarer wood, Miss. Granger, I've only sold six wands made with it in my career. It's a sensitive wood that often knows its match upon entering the same room, and vine woods are very particular to the kind of person it binds itself to," he said, opening the charred box. Her breath caught in her throat, barely listening to the man speak about what she already knew. "Vine, 10 and ¾ inch, dragon heartstring…" Inside the box was a very familiar wand. Her eyes traced the dark wood carved with delicate crawling vines and leaves. She reached for it, felt the comforting hum of her magic meld with it and felt the wand's aura relax against her. Elated, she gave Olivander a smile.
"Fascinating," the old man said, watching her intently. "It's almost like it's reuniting with you, rather than selecting you. Curious, very curious," he gave her a penetrating stare for a moment longer before directing his gaze back to McGonagall who had approached the counter to pay.
As they left to head back to the communal fireplace at the Leaky Cauldron, McGonagall asked in a hushed whisper so only their small group could hear her, and confirming in Hermione's mind that Dumbledore had shared her actual circumstances to her, "Is that your wand from your time?"
"Yes," she replied. Her wand found her. Her wand remembered her. Magic surely was a mysterious force.
"Okay, my dear, remember to take your pain potion three times a day, and make sure you have your nerve rejuvenation potion with breakfast. Oh, and here is a bottle of Pepper Up, you should take it with lunch. I expect you to feel quite fatigued by midday," prattled Madame Pomfrey Monday morning, her face a pinched concern and her hands fussing. Sirius watched from the edge of the privacy screen, waiting for her to let Hermione go so he could help her to her classes. "Remember to come back by curfew. I don't want her coming back late, Mr. Black!" She turned to him, her eyes narrowed severely. Like a mother talking to the boy taking her daughter out.
"Yes, Ma'am!" chirped Sirius, just happy to see Hermione up and about. It was somewhat odd seeing her on her feet, in uniform. She wasn't very tall, perhaps coming up to his chin.
Madame Pomfrey just glowered before she turned back to Hermione. "You've got your wand, dear?" Hermione pulled out her wand to show her. Pomfrey smiled at it. "Well, off you go, I suppose, get some breakfast before class, dear. Come straight back here if you feel ill at all. And you," she scowled again at Sirius. "Make her come back if you notice anything off." Sirius just nodded seriously.
"Thank you, Madame Pomfrey," smiled Hermione, taking the woman's hands and squeezing them affectionately. "I'll see you tonight."
She reached for her bag but was beaten to the punch by Sirius who snagged it from her outstretched hand, much to the surprised approval of the Matron. He just grinned at Hermione's dry look and grabbed her hand with his free one. "Let's go, Kitten!" he said and dragged her from the Hospital Wing, slowing down once they were outside the doors. He let go of her hand and put his arm around her shoulders, dragging her into him and putting his face into her hair. It smelled different from the hospital soap scent he had grown accustomed to. Instead it smelled of warm spices, and he revelled in the change. It suited her. "I'm so glad you're finally out of there," he mumbled, taking another deep breath of the clove and cinnamon.
Hermione put her arms around his middle and held tight for a moment before letting go and looking up at him. "I'm not completely. I still have to sleep there," she corrected him. "But, I'm happy to finally be able to be up and around, and taking classes again. I was never able to finish my last year of school."
They started walking again at a slower pace, not in any hurry to make it to the Great Hall. Sirius kept his arm around her shoulders. "How is it that you were old enough to be in your last year but are 16 right now?" He had been wondering that for a while but never got around to asking.
"Madame Pomfrey and Dumbledore theorize that when the sand from my Time Turner mixed with my blood it used my 'time' to send me back. Time Turners aren't supposed to be able to send someone back more than a few hours- a day, at best. So, something had to have altered its magic somehow." He felt her shrug under his arm, but she was gnawing on her lower lip with a contemplative look on her face.
"I suppose that makes sense. Blood magic always requires a payment," he said, pondering on something else. Madame Pomfrey's notes said that the sand was still embedded into her chest. "What if you were sent forward in time? Would you age a little to pay for the time?"
"Possibly? But time traveling forward is still being studied, it hasn't yet been proved possible. It's an interesting thought, though," she replied. Sirius thought it was more terrifying than interesting, so he let the matter drop.
"I'm nervous," she said, halting as the Great Hall loomed closer, a few students milling around the doors, or running too and from. "I don't know how to handle meeting them." Sirius didn't need to ask who she was talking about. Personally, he was nervous too. It's not that he thought his friends would dilike Hermione, but he knew that her cover story was slim and his friends were curious individuals at best, and at worst nosey little brats.
Dumbledore decided on her alibi. The story was that she had gone to a small school somewhere off the Coast of Wales that had been closed at the end of the last year due to not enough enrollment. To finish the rest of her education she had been enrolled at Hogwarts and given special permission to use a portkey instead of the Hogwarts Express due to the distance from the train station. Unfortunately her muggle family was attacked and murdered, and it's unknown how long they tortured her before the portkey activated sending her to Hogwarts.
It sounded good on surface level, but the details are where it could get them in trouble. Nothing in the Prophet would be written about it, because it never happened. The school she was supposed to have come from never existed and if anyone looked too closely at it they would realize the falsehood immediately. His friends would question why a portkey would drop her off in the 7th floor corridor instead of somewhere more sensible like Dumbledore's office or McGonagall's.
On top of it all, her personal history with his friends was perhaps the more immediate concern. After reading her notes he had been sent into a whirlwind of emotions just at the sight of the other three Marauders, but she had lived it. Lived in a world where James and Lily were dead; Peter was a traitor; Remus was a tired, lonely ex-professor; and Sirius was haunted, hunted and finally murdered.
How was she supposed to handle it? Hell, how was she handling anything? Her entire world literally vanished and she's now living in a time with people she knew but don't know her. Most days she seemed fine, but Sirius knew that Hermione was struggling with everything that been happening to her.
"I'm nervous too," he said simply. "But we best get a move on or else we'll have to worry about Poppy coming for me because you didn't eat anything or take your potions, and we'll still have to face the music." He grinned down at her, belying his concerns. She only looked up at him, her eyes amber in the daylight, and oddly determined. She nodded and they moved through the doors and towards the Gryffindor table.
The bustle of breakfast came as some relief. Few people even noticed them, Hermione only drawing the looks of some girls who looked at her in envy as she walked by with Sirius' arm around her shoulders. Some of the Gryffindors whispered to themselves, wondering who she was as they spotted her house colors. But all in all, the commotion was minimal as Sirius led her to a group of three boys.
Sirius could feel her stiffen against him as she caught sight of his friends. Heard her breath out an almost silent, "Harry," her tone so full of longing that it made his heart clench. He could remember from the one memory she had shown them, a boy with a swollen face from a stinging spell, but the shock of familiar tousled black hair stuck out to him. At the time he didn't give it much thought, but knowing what he knew now, he could assume that Harry bore a remarkable resemblance to James.
"Sirius! Is this Hermione?" exclaimed James, his hazel eyes lighting up at the sight of them. Peter looked up at them and Remus turned around in his seat.
"Yeah, this is Hermione." He set Hermione down next to Remus and took to her other side, James and Peter across from them. "Hermione, these are my friends. James is the git with the glasses. Pete is next to him and this," he reached around her back to give Remus a light shove. "Is Remus."
Hermione looked around at them, her face shy at their attentive gazes. She gave them a tentative smile. "Hello, It's nice to meet you."
"Merlin, Pads. You didn't mention the hair!" said Peter, his voice awed. Remus kicked him from under the table as Hermione's hand shot up to pat her hair self consciously.
"Magnificent isn't it," Sirius laughed, pulling her hand away, tucking it away under the table, running his thumb over her knuckles comfortingly. He looked at her hair admiringly.
"Definitely had to be a Gryffindor. Can you imagine the shame we would face if we lost out on having an actual lion mane in our ranks?" James shook his head in derision at the thought.
"What classes are you taking, Hermione?" Asked Remus changing the subject for the reddening girl. He sat next to her taking a spoonful of porridge, his brown eyes watching her in curiosity.
"All the core classes, and Advanced Arithmancy, and Runes," she replied bashfully, glancing at the younger version of her professor.
"You be in Runes with James and Sirius, and Arithmancy with Remus, then," piped up Peter. Hermione glanced at the round-faced boy. Sirius felt her grip his hand tighter, her only indication at her distress, but she just gave him a tight smile.
"What class are you taking, Peter?" She asked politely.
"I'm taking Care of Magical Creatures, and Divination," he said brightly. "Divination is a bit of a joke but I like writing and having to practice coming up with different tragic events comes in handy when I need to kill off a character," he said conspiratorially, leaning towards the middle of the table so only their group could hear.
Surprisingly, Hermione burst into laughter, tears springing to her eyes in mirth. The boys just grinned at her. Sirius felt his chest expand knowing his friends were trying to put her at ease. Despite what he knew could happen in the future, he wanted her to know and love his friends, and maybe, hopefully, between the two of them, they could be kept from that dark path.
The smile Hermione gave Peter was much warmer than before. Sirius bumped shoulders with her and directed her gaze to the plate of bacon, eggs, and toast he had put on her plate.
"Make sure you eat, Kitten," he reminded her. He worried a bit about her weight.
"Oh! Right," she said before tucking into her plate. He watched her for a moment, making sure she actually put food to mouth before looking up to see his friends staring at him, smirking and sniggering discreetly. Peter's wide blue eyes were dumbfounded.
'Kitten?' Remus mouthed at him, a shit eating grin emerging on his face.
Sirius felt his ears and face warm considerably as he glared and mouthed, "shut up!' at them. Which just made James convulse in silent laughter even harder, and Peter's eyes to grow wider. Hermione remained blissfully unaware.
Clearing his throat of his mirth, James put his elbow on the table and looked at Hermione who was biting into some toast. "So, Hermione, you made quite an entrance, from what Paddy here told us. What happened to you and how'd you end up at Hogwarts."
Hermione froze, looking up at him, her face somewhat paler than before. "I, erm…I really would rather not talk about it right now. If that's ok?" She put down her toast and fiddled with the cuff of her sleeve.
Sirius scowled at James for ruining the pleasant mood. "I can tell them later if you are more comfortable with that, Love." He ducked his head to look at her downcast face. He could tell that she was thinking about the actual events of her arrival, not her fabricated one.
"I can tell them. Just...later," she turned her amber eyes to him, he could read the stress in them.
"Hey. It's fine!" said James, his face a mask of remorse for his question. He glanced at Sirius in concern and then at Remus, curiosity in both their faces.
"Yeah, Hermione, you can tell us whenever you want too. No pressure," consoled Remus, gently. He patted her back reassuringly. She just nodded, subdued.
"Hey, do you like lemon scones?" asked Peter, pulling a plate near his right elbow over towards their section of table. "These are some of my favorites!" He took a couple and put them on her plate of half eaten eggs. She reached for one and took a small bite, giving Peter an appreciative smile.
Sirius waited until she finished the scone and drank down the rest of her tea before pulling out her morning potions. He unstoppered them and handed them over to her. "Here," he said, urging her to take the muddy green nerve potion.
She took it with a pinched look on her face. "Blegh!" she exclaimed after she finished the phial, her face set in a disgusted frown and gratefully took the pumpkin juice Remus was holding out to her.
"Alright, this next," Sirius held out the familiar blue potion. She took it and shivered at the cooling sensation. She handed him back the empty phials and he stowed them away, just as the bell rang for the end of breakfast.
"Come on, we have Herbology first," piped up James, standing from his seat as the plates disappeared from the table.
Sirius helped Hermione up and took her bag again. All four of the boys walked around her, like some sort of honor guard. They walked out to the greenhouses amid the pleasant chatter of the other students. From what Hermione could see the Gryffindors took Herbology with the Hufflepuffs just like in her time.
"I heard we're revisiting bubotuber's today," said Peter with a groan, trudging along next to Remus.
"Yeah, the 4th years are apparently, collectively, really awful at Herbology. Professor Sprout doesn't seem to trust them not to squeeze them all over themselves," said Sirius to the group, but mostly just filling in the missing information to Hermione.
They all filed into greenhouse six and saw the lumpy plants all lined up along the work spaces and groaned. "Damn it!" said James. "I was really hoping that the 4 years did better so we didn't have to deal with this stuff again." He looked at the plants in disgust.
Remus just shook his head at his friend before looking at Hermione. "You wanna pair up with Pete? He's the best at Herbology, so you'll be less likely to get burned," he smiled at her warmly. She smiled and nodded.
"Sure, that sounds good, thanks Pro- Remus," she quickly corrected, looking away from the flash of confusion on Remus's face and hastily reaching up to pull her hair up into a messy twist of hair. She secured it with an elastic that had a daisy decoration on it. Sirius couldn't help but watch, finding the daisy adorable nestled in her curls. She looked up at him watching her and cocked her eyebrow at him.
He cleared his throat and asked, "You got a spare one of those?" He gestured to his longish hair. "It's probably a good idea to get it out of my face before we start squeezing the pus out of these." He could feel James and Remus's eyes on the back of his head and fought the urge to scowl.
"Uh, yeah I have an extra. But, it also has a flower on it," she responded hesitantly, digging it out of her bag and holding it out to him. "You could ask one of the other girls if they have a plain one."
"No, this is fine!" he said quickly, taking the elastic and tying his hair up as Professor Sprout started class. He could feel his ears burning everytime James or Remus glanced at him with their knowing, shit eating smiles, or when Evans did a double take when she caught sight of the yellow flower in his hair midway through class, turning to whisper to Marlene who she had partnered with. He could feel the blond glowering at him from across the table but didn't look up to acknowledge her.
Despite this the class went by pretty uneventfully, save for a couple of small exposures to the pus. Soon they were heading to History of Magic,
Sirius, James, and Remus were sniffing their robes the whole way. They ended up getting splashed with some of the bubotuber pus when the Hufflepuff/Gryffindor pair accidentally squeezed too roughly and splashed them as well as themselves. Despite the quick scourgify that Sprout cast on them they were complaining about still being able to smell it.
Both Peter and Hermione were laughing so hard at them Hermione didn't notice a 4th or 5th year boy going the opposite direction down the corridor, hurrying after a group of upperclassmen, until her shoulder knocked into him and scattered his books.
"Oh! I'm so sorry," She said, leaning down to help pick up his books, glancing at his dark blond hair.
"Leave it!" the boy snapped, slapping her hand away and gathering his books.
There was a snarl behind her and Remus grabbed her shoulders, lifting her up and pulling her away from the boy. Sirius and James stepped in front of her and glowered down at the boy who looked up at them, his pale freckled face glaring back at them.
"Oi what's your problem?" demanded James, folding his arms imperiously.
Sirius said nothing but fingered his wand through his pocket, glancing up at the group of 6th and 7th years the boy was following after. A couple had stopped and looked back at the boy. One he recognized as McNair, another was the greasy head of Snape who had gone undetected while they were distracted by their smelly robes.
"Crouch! Stop following us around and get to your class," yelled the voice of Rosier from the back of the group. The boy just gave a mightily displeased look and took off in a different direction.
Sirius scowled at the group but they paid them no heed except to sneer down their noses at them and pivot away from them. Snape took an extra second to send a venomous glare at Sirius and James who were watching them leave.
Sirius turned to check on Hermione and was so shocked to see her trembling in Remus's arms, he didn't hear James casting a tripping jinx, nor did he hear Snape's body fall with an indignant cry. He rushed over to her and cupped her pale cheeks and leaned down to look into her blown pupils.
"Kitten? Are you ok?" he asked urgently, looking between her eyes and then down at her body to see if anything was injured. She just stared at where the boy had been, her mouth opening and closing soundlessly. "Kitten? Hermione?" he tried again. He felt James and Peter come up and enclose her in a protective circle.
"That was…" she trailed off, her gaze snapping to Sirius's silver eyes. "That was…"
And then it clicked. The day had progressed so well that nearly all thoughts of the contents of her notebook had faded into the back of his mind, but now it all snapped back into the forefront of his brain.
That had been Bartemius Crouch Jr.
The man who had helped torture Frank and Alice Longbottom into insanity.
The man who had sent her best friend to die at the hands of Lord Voldemort.
The man who escaped Azkaban to bring back the Dark Lord to power and restart a war that would end her childhood and lead her to pain and despair.