When they got to Gringotts, James discovered everything was far, far worse than he'd imagined it could get. Since he was short on time, he forced himself to concentrate, think fast, and avoid distractions. He'd learned about necromantic connections from Padfoot and Regulus, back when the younger boy would hold a conversation with them. But he had no explanation for how he'd sussed out that Dumbledore was convinced that Harry was a necromantic anchor for Voldemort. Was this an example of his subconscious giving away the game? Or, he pondered, were some of his son's memories trickling up? He'd noticed a change in the crispness of the dream. If it was what he thought it was, he might not be asleep much longer.

That gives me even less time, he decided. He gave the goblin in charge of the Potter holdings a document, signed with a blood quill, that gave him carte blanche in fixing any irregularities he chose to address. He was, he explained, extremely pressed for time, and needed something from the family vault right away.

The ever-attentive Hermione was having an eye-widening day, it seemed. The goblin James had been talking with made no bones about his outrage at Dumbledore, and she already knew what James thought. James held her in place as the cart rocketed down much farther than she'd apparently ever been.

It didn't take James long to find the box that held his quarry. It was, ironically, very similar to the amulet he was wearing. But this one was a protector against invasions of the mind. He didn't bother explaining that to Hermione. When they arrived back in the main Gringotts lobby, he asked the goblin he'd been talking with to tell Hermione about the amulet.

"That is a Potter heirloom, very standard, witch," the goblin said. "It prevents your mind from being invaded and read or controlled."

Hermione and the goblin then discussed it for a while, before she, somewhat reluctantly, put it on. The goblin made no bones about the fact that she'd be an idiot to ever take it off. It wasn't harmed by water or blunt force or excessive heat - really, by anything that wouldn't harm Hermione first. James refrained from telling Hermione it wouldn't work against love or loyalty potions, but the goblin displayed their typical efficiency by bringing it up in his stead. Hermione mentioned that Mrs Weasley had told her and Ginny about brewing a love potion as a girl, and that now she didn't feel as giggly about it. James again held his tongue while the goblin explained that there were many different kinds of both love and loyalty potions, and some were stronger than others.

At that point, James brought out a ring he'd gotten out of the vault while Hermione was looking around in it. "We didn't come here for this, but if you want it ..." he said.

When Hermione asked the goblin about it, he told her it would warn her when certain potions were within about a foot or two of the ring.

"It's not everything," James explained, "but it's certainly better than nothing."

Being savvier than her Dumbledore-worship would have led James to believe, Hermione asked if wearing a ring like that wouldn't communicate that she'd become rather paranoid. The goblin's final assistance was teaching her, right on the spot, how to charm it invisible to all but her. It was in a class of rings that all had the same concealment spell built-in, and she got it fairly quickly. As for the necklace, most of the time no one would see it, and those that would both see it and understand it weren't, for the most part, the sort that would run to the headmaster about it.

At the Leaky Cauldron, they actually had a pleasant lunch. They agreed to try to avoid sad or contentious topics. Since they'd just left school a short while ago, they didn't have to catch up on anything, so James asked Hermione questions about herself and her family. A twinge of concern appeared on her face once when it seemed James' "Confundus/memory" theory would apply to him forgetting things she'd already told her about herself, but she held her tongue.

James' heart went out to her. She was in a far worse position than Lily had been. Essentially friendless, more often attacked than praised, her studies interrupted by nearly constant danger, not praised for her beauty even though James could readily see what Harry must see in her. Apparently, reading between the lines, she had a couple of rivals Harry hadn't seen off. One of them was Molly Prewitt and Arthur Weasley's youngest daughter, although the issue there seemed to be that that girl traded on their "friendship" to try to guilt Hermione away from Harry. He had, apparently, never noticed her as a romantic interest so far. Another was an older Ravenclaw whose boyfriend had died, who had been flirting with Harry for a couple of years.

James scrupled at giving her assurances Harry might break her heart by rescinding, but decided that to anyone but Hermione, he was going to foreclose the other two girls as an option. He didn't consider Molly Prewitt trustworthy, unlike her two brothers. Arthur, he admitted, was as solid as it got, but Ginevra seemed to take after her mother more. Actually, the youngest boy seemed to be playing the same game with Harry. Both Harry and Hermione apparently lacked self-esteem, so much so that it never occurred to them to make the Weasleys defer to them out of "friendship." It was always a one-way street with the two youngest redheads, and James decided he was going to foreclose Ronald as well.

It would make her anxious, but he zeroed in on their third year. "Please tell me everything that happened then," he asked her. It did make her anxious, but she complied. Through gentle interrogation, he got a fairly clear picture. Did Harry, he wondered, even deserve her? Then again, he mused, what were her other options? Very much like Lily, actually, she had fewer reasonable suitors than her qualities would indicate.

After her summary wound down, James said, "first, I want to say how sorry I am. For most of that year, my behaviour was unforgivable. You were the better person, and you suffered for it."

Hermione shook her head, but James ploughed onward. "I have to wonder what not only the headmaster, but your head of house and the Unspeakables were thinking, frankly. To take two or three absolutely worthless classes, you sacrificed your health, your peace of mind, and your safety. Meanwhile, apparently, I was concerned, but not enough to actually do anything."

Hermione pointed out that having the time turner saved his godfather. James not only agreed, but did so with a smile. "I believe that you, of all students, were by far the best choice for that, but I still think it was dangerous and damaging for you. I will grant you that perhaps Fate played a hand. After all, it not only saved Sirius, it saved you and me and the beast. What was it like, flying a hippogryph to save him?"

Hermione blushed. "It was ... it was nice. Terrifying, but nice."

"You have a fear of heights, but you did that anyway. That's what a real Gryffindor is like," James praised. At that, he saw the Ravenclaw, a very pretty Chinese girl, come in with her friends. They had probably been shopping in Diagon. He excused himself, but as he stood up, he told Hermione, quietly, "You've seen what a state I'm in. From what I've heard from you, she's at least somewhat interested. I'm going to go make sure she's not getting her hopes up. I hate to do it now, when she's still somewhat in mourning, but the later I put off telling the truth, I think the more harm done." He squeezed Hermione's hand and looked her in the eye before dropping her hand and approaching "Cho."

When he returned to the table, Cho was nearly in tears, but it was one down.

"You told me you could explain how you know things, and why your memory's coming and going, but Dumbledore would 'rip it from my mind'," Hermione said, with a bit of an eye-roll. "I assume this," she indicated the necklace by touching it through her robe, "means that won't happen?"

In response, James brought out his own amulet.

"Does that do the same thing?" she asked.

"No," James replied. "Quite the contrary, really. It's the source of the memory issues, and the source of my knowledge."

"Then that bit about the Confundus ..." Hermione asked.

"Was true, but it's not really the main reason," he replied. "A great deal of mischief has been done to Harry Potter, but sometimes to fix mischief you have to turn to other mischiefs."

"Explain," Hermione demanded.

"I have dreams. Long, long dreams where the time passes just like it does when I'm awake. I'm in my parents' time at Hogwarts. I can explore around, I can ask people things, I can hunt up secrets. The people around me are naive; they have no idea how it's going to turn out. When I wake up, my memories are a mixture of then and now, and I have to puzzle it all out."

"How on Earth did you ever discover this, or choose to use it?" she wondered.

"I wasn't sleeping. Tonks got me an amulet my grandmother had. Or maybe it's great-grandmother."

"Did it help?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, it's supposed to make you dream. And boy, did it," James said.

Hermione's face clouded. "This reminds me of nothing so much as Ginny's diary," she said. "To quote Mr Weasley, do you know where this amulet keeps its brains?"

"Well, it's not at all conscious, for one thing. For another, it's not mysterious in the way you seem to think. It's been in the family for generations."

"The Potter family?"

James had to admit that it was the Black family in question.

"The Black family? How in the name of all that is good and holy can you be blase about it being a Black artefact?" Hermione asked.

"Well, not everything they have is dark. Technically, the mirrors are a Black artefact, as well as a Potter artefact. The map is a Black artefact."

"Fine," Hermione said, impatiently. "Then how about this: what if it was designed to give a Black who wasn't a Seer, visions? Is that considered healthy, or is it dangerous?"

"These are," James answered, "dangerous times. What's dangerous in peacetime could save your hide in wartime."

"And something you forget," Hermione countered, "could kill you."

James drummed his fingers on the table. It was almost time to leave, but he felt unsatisfied with how the conversation had gone.

"Hermione," he said, "I am going to take what you said to heart. How's this: I am going to talk to a friend of Ginny Weasley's who I believe is a seer. I am going to ask for her help and if she's willing to visit Andromeda Tonks and discuss this amulet. It could be I should not wear it too often. It could even be that I've gotten all the good out of it I can, for the moment."

Hermione not only nodded, but smiled.

"In fairness, I pretty much demanded you tell me, so it's no fair getting mad at you over what's really been going on," she acknowledged.

"I really care about you, you know," James said. "And I'm thinking about your family. Thank you so much for telling me about them. I'm worried that few people in the magical world are going to care about their safety, and unless you absolutely forbid it, I'm going to be thinking about that for a while."

Fortunately, Hermione's smile didn't diminish on hearing that.

When the Knight Bus got to Hermione's home, James, feeling guilty again about hugging Hermione en route, was also feeling guilty about the possibility that he was setting the girl up if his son didn't fancy her. Embarrassing Harry was a father's prerogative, but not so much breaking a girl's heart. He'd have to thread the needle a bit. Nothing wrong with distancing himself from the youngest Weasley boy, he decided.

"Hermione, you are my special person. If you remember nothing else, remember that," he said, earnestly, holding her hands and looking her in the eye. "My other friend, that everyone calls my best friend? He doesn't hold a candle to you. Not even close. If I had our third year to do all over again, there are many, many things I would change. Hell, our first year, too. Is there anything I can do at Hogwarts this year to make your year happier? Don't think you have to answer right now. But if there is, let me know. I don't want to ever let you down again."

"If Dumbledore orders us not to write you, or failing that, not to tell you anything of substance in my letters, Harry," Hermione said, "I'll comply, but he doesn't seem to know what a telephone is. Nor does he understand Muggle mail. That's all I'll say. I appreciate what you just said. More than you'll ever know."

Before James boarded the Knight Bus, they exchanged their longest hug of the night. He couldn't help feeling guiltier still.