James and Lily had barely closed the door behind them before the words came tumbling out, each of them speaking in hurried, hushed tones regarding everything Dumbledore said meant in reality in relation to Mina as they made their way back to the Gryffindor common room. Once inside they spotted Sirius and Remus waiting, their expressions a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

"Alright, spill," Sirius said, leaning forward with his usual impatience. "What did Dumbledore say about Minnie?"

Lily and James exchanged a look, each silently agreeing to stick to the plan, casting some privacy charms. "He said Mina's dealing with a family emergency and that she'll be back before term starts," James began, his voice edged with frustration. "But that's just the story we're supposed to tell everyone."

Remus leaned back, crossing his arms but remaining calm. "And what's the real story?"

Lily sighed, glancing at Sirius's tense expression and Remus's calm demeanour before continuing. "Dumbledore hinted that Mina's helping him with something… important. He didn't say what, just that we shouldn't worry and that the official line is to stick to the family emergency story. He wouldn't elaborate, even when we pushed."

Sirius's brow furrowed, his conflicting emotions evident. He still felt the weight of his last argument with Mina—the harsh words, the invasive revelation of her scar. It gnawed at him that he'd been part of why she'd run off in the first place. But if Dumbledore was involved, and Mina was on some secret mission for him, it made sense that she'd need a cover story, especially if she was a Muggleborn trying to survive in a world that was growing increasingly hostile to her kind.

"She's a Muggleborn, isn't she?" Sirius finally said, breaking the silence. "That's why she's pretending to be half-blood. If she's doing something for Dumbledore, it's probably to keep her safe as much as anything else."

Lily nodded, her expression softening. "Yeah, it makes sense now, doesn't it? Dumbledore said he trusts her completely, and he wouldn't say that lightly. But whatever she's doing, it's dangerous. I just… I have this feeling that our Patronus might've caused her trouble."

Sirius winced, guilt flitting across his face. "Bloody hell… if we had known—"

"We all wanted her back," James interjected, running a hand through his hair, clearly just as torn. Especially since it was his stag that had interrupted whatever it was she had been doing. "But I hate that we're being left out of whatever's going on. We're supposed to be preparing for the Order, right? So why is Mina, who's just a student like us, apparently involved in some grand plan while we're stuck in the dark?"

Remus stayed quiet, but the subtle flicker of his gaze spoke volumes. He was at peace with it. If Dumbledore trusted Mina, then so did he. He glanced at Sirius, who seemed lost in his own thoughts, battling a war of guilt and concern. "Dumbledore knows what he's doing," Remus said quietly. "If Mina's helping him, then it's because he believes she's capable of it. We've got to respect that."

James let out a frustrated sigh, slumping back against the couch. "I get it. But it doesn't make it any easier to just… sit here."

Lily placed a hand on his arm, her thumb rubbing soothing circles. "I know. But we've got to trust Dumbledore—and Mina. We don't know everything that's happening, but I think she's doing what she has to."

Sirius nodded slowly, though the tension in his shoulders remained. "I'm not interested in pestering her about it anymore. I just want her back safe, yeah? I was a right arse to her, and I get why she'd feel like she had to hide." He hesitated, then added, "But when she gets back, I'm going to make things right. No more of this distrust rubbish from my end."

Lily smiled softly, though her worry hadn't entirely faded. "I just hope she knows we're here for her, no matter what. Whatever she's doing, she's not alone. And when the time comes, we'll be there to help—if she'll let us."

James, still simmering with frustration, nodded reluctantly. "Fine. But if there's one thing I know, it's that Dumbledore doesn't take risks lightly. Mina's doing something big—something we can't even begin to guess at. We just have to hope he's right about her."

As the group fell into a contemplative silence, each lost in their thoughts, they all knew one thing for certain: whatever Mina Delacour was doing, it was far more dangerous than any of them could have imagined, and they would have to wait in the shadows, ready for the moment when their friend would need them most.


Hermione stepped into Dumbledore's office on Sunday, her heart pounding with the weight of everything she needed to discuss. The familiar warmth of the room, with its whirring silver instruments and the soft coos of Fawkes, did little to ease her nerves. She was glad to be back in the castle, but her mind was already racing with the inevitable confrontation she knew awaited her with the Marauders and Lily. For now, though, she focused on the Headmaster. She had more pressing matters to deal with, and Dumbledore had to know what she and the Prewetts had uncovered.

"Miss Granger," Dumbledore greeted her with a gentle smile as he rose from behind his desk. "I trust your trip was… productive?"

Hermione nodded, setting her bag down carefully. "It was. We found some documents in the archives that might be useful, though I haven't had time to review them all properly yet. There were also a couple of books from Knockturn Alley that seemed promising."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, though there was a hint of caution in his expression. "Very good. I, too, am expecting a few obscure tomes from my contacts that should arrive shortly. In the meantime, I would advise you to leave your findings with me. It would be too risky for anyone else to come across them, and your weekly Occlumency lessons provide a secure environment for your research."

Hermione frowned, feeling a surge of frustration. "That's going to slow me down considerably, Professor. We've already lost so much time, and we can't afford to—"

Dumbledore raised a hand gently, cutting her off. "I understand your urgency. But we must tread carefully. The work you are doing is invaluable, and thanks to the knowledge you've provided, we are already far ahead of where we would have been otherwise. Caution, however, is paramount. If anyone were to discover what you're doing…"

Hermione took a deep breath, nodding reluctantly. She knew he was right, but it didn't make the situation any less frustrating. "Alright."

Dumbledore's gaze softened, sensing her dissatisfaction. "Patience, my dear. We must ensure that Tom remains in the dark as long as possible."

He leaned back, his fingers steepled as he shifted the conversation. "Speaking of which, you mentioned a Horcrux hidden within the castle itself—the Room of Requirement, I believe you called it?"

Hermione nodded, and Dumbledore leaned in, eager for her description. She recounted the strange, ever-changing room that had served as a hiding place for the diadem, located on the seventh floor by the troll tapestry, and as she spoke, Dumbledore's expression turned contemplative.

"Ah, so that's what it was," he mused, a nostalgic smile tugging at his lips. "I stumbled upon that room once, many years ago, when I was in need of a lavatory. I searched for it again countless times afterward but could never find it. It appears the room presents itself only in times of great need."

"For now, it might be best to leave it as it is," Dumbledore continued, his tone turning serious. "Destroying it now could risk alerting Tom to our actions. We must gather the other Horcruxes first."

Hermione hesitated, recalling her past experience. "In my time, he didn't realise what was happening until a few of them had already been destroyed. But… better safe than sorry."

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. "Indeed. We will proceed with caution."

He shifted in his chair, his expression sharpening with a new determination. "As for the Basilisk, I am currently exploring ways to access it. A Parselmouth would be ideal, but as that resource is currently unavailable to us, we may need to be… creative."

Hermione's mind raced, recalling how her friend Ron had managed to open the Chamber without being a true Parselmouth. "I remember—my friend was able to learn the phrase 'open' just by listening to Harry. It's crude, but it worked."

Dumbledore's interest piqued, and he leaned forward slightly. "Do you have a memory of this?"

"Yes," Hermione confirmed, feeling the weight of the moment.

"Then show me," Dumbledore requested, gesturing toward the Pensieve.

Hermione produced the memory, allowing Dumbledore to witness Ron's awkward but determined attempt at replicating the Parseltongue command. He watched intently, his brow furrowing as he studied Ron's efforts.

When the memory concluded, Dumbledore straightened, a small, thoughtful smile forming on his lips. "Fascinating. I will practise, and when the time is right, we shall attempt it together. This may be the key to obtaining what we need."

Hermione nodded, feeling a renewed sense of hope. It wasn't a perfect plan, but it was something. It was progress.

Dumbledore's expression softened once more as he regarded her. "You've done more than I could have ever hoped, Miss Granger. For now, return to your dormitory and rest. You've earned it."

As Hermione rose to leave, a thought struck her, and she hesitated at the door, turning back to face Dumbledore. "Professor, please promise me one thing," she said, her voice tinged with a mix of urgency and concern. "Don't attempt to retrieve any of the Horcruxes on your own."

Dumbledore looked at her, slightly taken aback by the intensity of her request. "I assure you, Miss Granger, I have no intention of doing so. Such a task requires careful planning and—"

Hermione cut him off, her expression serious. "You may not plan to, but things don't always go according to plan. I know you're capable of handling yourself, but… I've seen what happens when you take this on alone."

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed, a flash of understanding crossing his features. "I take it my future self was not as prudent in these matters?"

Hermione's gaze dropped, her expression shadowed by the painful memories of a future that had cost them all so much. "No, he wasn't," she admitted quietly. "And it cost him his life in the end."

Dumbledore's face softened, touched by a solemn sadness that rarely broke through his usually composed exterior. He understood the weight behind her words, the unspoken pain she carried from witnessing his fate.

He nodded, the gravity of the promise sinking in. "Thank you, Miss Granger, for reminding me of the dangers of overconfidence. I will heed your warning and proceed with the utmost caution."

Hermione gave a small nod, her eyes meeting his one last time before she turned to leave. She didn't elaborate further, but she knew her message had been heard. As she left the office, the burden of her knowledge felt just a little lighter, knowing that perhaps this time, some mistakes might be avoided.


Hermione stepped through the portrait hole into the nearly deserted Gryffindor common room, her heart heavy with the weight of everything that had transpired. The room was unusually quiet, the warmth of the fire crackling in the hearth doing little to ease the tension that had settled in her chest. Most of the students were still on their way back to the castle on the train, and the usual hustle and bustle were missing, replaced by a calm that felt almost eerie.

She spotted Remus immediately, sitting in one of the armchairs near the fire, his posture relaxed but his gaze fixed on the entrance as if he'd been waiting for her. Hermione knew instantly that this wasn't a coincidence; they'd been watching the Map, anticipating her return. And they'd sent Remus—gentle, understanding Remus—as the welcoming party.

As soon as their eyes met, Remus rose from his seat, crossing the room in just a few strides. He didn't say a word, didn't press her with questions or accusations. Instead, he simply wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight, reassuring embrace.

The moment Hermione felt his warmth, the walls she'd been holding up for days crumbled. She buried her face into his shoulder, clinging to him as though he were the only solid thing in a world that had spun out of her control. The tears came then, hot and unbidden, spilling down her cheeks in a torrent she hadn't allowed herself before now.

Remus held her closer, his hand gently stroking her hair, and he whispered soft, soothing words that didn't need to make sense. He didn't ask why she was crying, didn't demand explanations; he simply let her fall apart in the safety of his arms, his presence a quiet promise that she wasn't alone.

They stood there for what felt like an eternity, Hermione's sobs muffled against the fabric of his jumper, Remus anchoring her with his steady, unwavering support. She didn't have to explain anything—Remus didn't need to know all the details to understand that she was hurting, overwhelmed, and desperately in need of this simple, unspoken comfort.

Finally, when her tears began to subside, Hermione pulled back just enough to look at him, her eyes red and puffy but filled with gratitude. Remus brushed a strand of hair from her face, his expression soft and full of concern, but still, he didn't push. He just offered her a small, reassuring smile, one that said more than words ever could.

"It's okay," he murmured gently. "You're home now."

And for the first time in what felt like ages, Hermione believed him.


The Marauders' dormitory was cloaked in the warm, flickering light of early evening, shadows from the fireplace dancing along the walls. Remus sat on his bed, pretending to be absorbed in his book, though his eyes hadn't moved from the same page in nearly ten minutes. His thoughts kept drifting back to Mina, to the tearful reunion in the common room, and the unspoken weight that hung between them. Across the room, James was sprawled on his bed, flipping half-heartedly through a Quidditch magazine, while Sirius was engrossed in a slow, methodical game of wizard's chess—against himself, of all things, occupying Wormtail's bed for some reason. Remus watched him with a fond but exasperated smile; only Sirius could compartmentalise his thoughts so fully that he could genuinely try to outwit himself.

The door burst open, and Peter barreled into the room, his face flushed and alight with a kind of jittery excitement. He dumped his bag onto his bed, barely noticing the clattering pieces on the chessboard. "You'll never guess what I heard over the break!" he said breathlessly, his eyes darting around to ensure he had everyone's attention.

Sirius looked up, his casual demeanour quickly shifting to alertness. "Calm down, Wormtail," he said, though there was a curious glint in his eyes. "What's got your knickers in a twist?"

Peter's grin was manic, his excitement barely contained. "I was at the Leaky Cauldron with Mum, yeah? There was this woman—looked like she'd been dragged through a second-hand shop, scarves everywhere, all sorts of jewellery hanging off her, and these glasses that made her eyes look massive." He paused, trying to find the right words. "She just… froze. Like she wasn't there anymore. Then she started… prophesying."

James glanced up from his magazine, his brow furrowing in confusion. "A prophecy? In the middle of the Leaky Cauldron? That doesn't just happen."

Peter nodded fervently. "Yeah, it was mad. Weirdest part was that it seemed like only I heard her. She said something about 'The one with providence has chosen her path… she who defies the bounds of fate shall rise to meet the lord of the gathering darkness.'" He stumbled over the words, his brow creased with concentration. "Or something like that."

Sirius immediately straightened, his entire demeanour shifting from casual interest to sharp, focused intensity. Raised in the Black household, he had been drilled in the significance of prophecies—the weight they carried, the power they could hold over fate itself. "Every word, Peter. You need to get this exactly right. 'The lord of the gathering darkness'—are you sure that's what she said? Not 'Dark Lord'? And 'providence'? Not 'power' or something else?"

Peter hesitated, flustered under the scrutiny. "I—yeah, pretty sure. She said something like, 'The decision has been cast, and all paths now converge towards the ultimate reckoning… she won't rest until either of them is put to rest.' She repeated it at the end: 'The one with providence has chosen her path.'"

Sirius's eyes narrowed, his mind racing. "'Providence' isn't just about power; it means someone who's been preparing, planning for what's coming. Someone with foresight. This isn't just any prophecy—it's about a choice that's already been made."

James's jaw clenched, his unease growing. "Whoever this 'she' is, it sounds like she's meant to face him. 'All paths converge towards a reckoning'—it's like everything's building to a final showdown."

Sirius nodded, his thoughts whirling. He'd been taught to see the significance in omens and warnings from the beyond, and this felt no different. "It means a decision's been made, and there's no turning back. Whoever this prophecy is about, she's not just involved—she's the one leading the charge."

Remus stayed quiet, though he couldn't shake the uneasy feeling twisting in his gut. The prophecy echoed in his mind, touching on fears he didn't dare voice. He thought of Mina, her abrupt disappearance, and the secrets she carried. But he kept his suspicions to himself, knowing it was too soon to connect the dots without more evidence.

Peter, still buzzing from the weight of his discovery, looked between his friends with wide, anxious eyes. "Do you think we should tell Dumbledore? I mean, what if it's about You-Know-Who? This is big—really big."

Sirius opened his mouth to protest, anger bubbling up at how casually Peter had thrown around what he'd heard. Prophecies were powerful and often self-fulfilling; if the subject of the prophecy never knew it existed, it might never come to pass. If Voldemort was indeed involved, this wasn't something to be taken lightly. But before he could voice his objections, Remus spoke up, his voice calm but firm.

"I think that is a great idea. I think we should go right now." Remus's words were steady, but his eyes were sharp, urging the others to act. They couldn't ignore this, not if it meant gaining an edge in the war.

The four Marauders had barely made it down the staircase when they spotted Lily sitting by the common room fire, surrounded by a stack of textbooks and parchment, quill in hand as she scribbled notes with her usual intensity. The flickering light illuminated her red hair, and she looked up just in time to catch sight of them making a beeline for the portrait hole.

"Oi! Where are you lot off to in such a rush?" she called out, frowning at the hurried way they moved, as if they were on a mission and hadn't even noticed her there.

James froze, his gaze darting to Sirius, Remus, and Peter in a silent, panicked exchange. It was clear none of them had expected to run into her, especially not now, when they were heading straight for Dumbledore's office.

"Er, just… heading out," James said, his voice a little too casual, his smile strained. "No big deal."

Lily's eyes narrowed, her instincts flaring up. "Oh really? Just a casual evening stroll through the castle? You four? And you all look like you've seen a ghost. What's going on?"

Sirius shot James a look, silently urging him to get them out of this without spilling too much. "It's nothing, Lils," he said, trying to sound offhanded, but his voice was edged with tension. "We just need to talk to Dumbledore about something."

Lily crossed her arms, not buying a word of it. "If it's nothing, then why are you all acting so suspicious? And as Head Girl, I think I should know when students are sneaking off to the Headmaster's office in the middle of the night."

Peter shuffled awkwardly, and Remus ran a hand through his hair, clearly not thrilled about the confrontation. James, sensing there was no easy way out, sighed and turned to Lily, his shoulders slumping in resignation.

"Lily, we really can't explain right now. But we need to go. It's… important."

Lily's gaze softened at the sincerity in his tone, but her resolve didn't waver. "I'm coming with you."

Sirius opened his mouth to argue, but Lily's determined expression told him it was a battle they weren't going to win. He let out a frustrated huff, looking to James for backup, but James simply shrugged. There was no stopping her when she was set on something.

"Fine," James relented, rubbing the back of his neck. "But we're not explaining anything until we're with Dumbledore. Just… trust us on this."

Lily's eyes darted between them, searching for any sign of deception, but all she found was the urgency in their expressions. Whatever this was, it wasn't some Marauder prank or late-night escapade. It was serious. She nodded, falling in line beside them as they pushed through the portrait hole.

"Alright, but if this is some nonsense, you're all doing detention for a week," she warned, trying to keep her voice stern despite the flicker of concern in her eyes. She didn't know what they were wrapped up in, but if it involved Dumbledore, then it was something bigger than she'd anticipated.

The group moved swiftly through the dimly lit corridors, their footsteps echoing in the empty halls. For the first time, the Marauders kept their usual banter and mischief to themselves, their minds solely focused on the prophecy Peter had heard. As they climbed the stairs to the Headmaster's office, the gravity of their mission hung heavy in the air, and even Lily's usually unflinching composure seemed to waver.


Lily was still piecing everything together as she made her way back to the dormitory that night, her mind spinning with the revelations of the past few hours. The prophecy had ignited something in her—a suspicion that had been simmering for months, but now it felt like pieces were finally slotting into place. But she couldn't talk about the prophecy; she was bound by her promise to keep it secret. Still, she needed answers. Answers she was determined to get.

When Lily entered the dormitory, Mina was already asleep, her form curled under the covers, exhaustion evident even in rest. Lily watched her friend for a moment, her heart heavy with worry and unasked questions. Whatever Mina was involved in, it was far bigger than any of them had realised. She decided to wait until morning.

As the sun rose, casting a soft glow over the dormitory, Lily watched as Mina stirred, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. They exchanged the usual morning pleasantries, but there was a tension beneath the surface, a weight that neither of them acknowledged.

After a quick exchange of smiles and a few words, Lily took a deep breath. "Mina, could you meet me in the Head Student office before breakfast? There's something I need to talk to you about."

Hermione nodded, still groggy but sensing the urgency in Lily's tone. She agreed without hesitation, though her stomach twisted with unease. She had known this was coming; it was only a matter of time before her careful façade began to crack.

The Head Student office was quiet, the walls lined with books and old Quidditch trophies. Lily wasted no time, casting privacy charms around the room with an intensity that caught Hermione off guard. Once the room was secure, Lily turned to her, her green eyes sharp and searching.

"Mina, I need to ask you something, and I need you to be honest with me," Lily began, her voice steady but laced with an underlying urgency. "Are you… a time-traveller?"

Hermione froze, her mind reeling. Out of all the questions she'd anticipated, this was the one she'd hoped to avoid. Her heart pounded in her chest as she tried to gather her thoughts, but the truth hung between them, impossible to deny.

"I… I don't know what you're talking about," Hermione tried, but her voice faltered, and she knew the lie was weak. Lily's expression didn't waver.

"Please, don't insult my intelligence," Lily said, her voice firm but not unkind. "I've been watching you—how you know things you shouldn't, how you've navigated this school like you've been here for years. You solved that Arithmancy problem in class that no one should know the answer to. I checked every book, every journal—it's not something you could have learned at Beauxbatons. And then there's Remus."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Remus?"

Lily nodded, her expression softening slightly. "I've known about Remus since third year. He doesn't know I know, but it's been obvious to me for a long time. And you… you knew almost instantly. You put it together faster than anyone else ever has. It's as if you already knew, even before meeting him."

Hermione swallowed hard, feeling the walls of her carefully constructed lies begin to close in. She had been so cautious, but Lily had always been one of the smartest witches of her generation—Hermione knew that better than anyone.

"And it's not just that," Lily continued, her voice dropping to a whisper. "The way you talk, the things you know… it's like you're constantly holding back, like you're afraid of revealing too much. I'm not asking for your life story, but I need to know if you're from… another time."

There was also the scar on Mina's arm—Mudblood carved in raw, cruel lines. The war was escalating, and Muggleborns were in danger, but this felt like a glimpse of a future even darker than she'd imagined. It was a chilling reminder of where things were heading if no one stepped in to stop it. She wouldn't bring it up though; it was clearly too personal, too painful. But it only strengthened her resolve to find out if Mina was from the future, which would explain the horrors she had seen they couldn't yet comprehend. And Lily was determined to stand by her, no matter what secrets were still buried.

Hermione hesitated, weighing her options. She knew that Lily was clever enough to keep her suspicions quiet, but admitting the truth was still a risk. And yet, she also knew she couldn't keep dodging the questions forever.

Finally, Hermione met Lily's gaze, her resolve crumbling. "I am," she admitted quietly. "But there are things I can't explain. It's not safe, and it's not because I don't trust you."

Lily's shoulders relaxed, though questions still burned at the back of her mind. She knew better than to push Hermione for answers she wasn't ready to share. "Alright," Lily said softly. "Just promise me you're being careful. I don't want to see you get hurt, Mina… or whatever your real name is."

Hermione nodded, tears stinging her eyes. She was deeply grateful for Lily's understanding, but the weight of her secrets felt heavier than ever. "I promise," she whispered, though she knew the road ahead would only get more treacherous.

The silence between them was thick with unspoken truths, their friendship shifting into something deeper, bound now by trust and the heavy burden of a future only Hermione truly knew.

"I'll need you to make a secrecy vow," Hermione said after a pause. "And… do you know Occlumency?"

Lily let out a surprised laugh, the sound bubbling up unexpectedly. "Sorry, it's just… never mind." She hesitated, knowing she couldn't reveal too much. "Yeah, sure, I can do the vow. As for Occlumency, funny you should ask. Dumbledore has us all learning it—well, those of us without some kind of natural defence. Sirius and James already knew it from their families, Remus doesn't need it because of, you know... So Peter and I are getting some extra lessons."

Hermione blinked, caught off guard. "Dumbledore's teaching you?"

Lily nodded. "I guess he thinks it's important. Secrets worth keeping safe and all that." She met Hermione's eyes with a knowing look. "Seems like it's becoming a bit of a theme around here."

Hermione couldn't help but smile, though the knot in her chest tightened. She reached out and squeezed Lily's hand, the unspoken promise of their shared burden settling between them.

Hermione and Lily descended the stairs to the Great Hall, the clatter of breakfast echoing around them as they took their seats at the Gryffindor table. Without thinking, Lily leaned over and planted a kiss on James's cheek, her mind still foggy from the whirlwind of the past day and the sleepless night that had followed. She realised her mistake a second too late, pulling back with wide eyes, but the damage was done. James, who had been waiting for this moment for what felt like forever, grinned broadly, his eyes lighting up with unrestrained joy.

"That's new," Remus commented, arching an eyebrow, his expression hovering somewhere between surprise and amusement.

Sirius let out a loud, exaggerated wolf whistle, earning snickers from the nearby students. "About bloody time!" he declared, his voice carrying over the din of the hall.

Hermione simply smiled knowingly, unsurprised but pleased to see her friends finally crossing that line. She caught Lily's eye, offering a supportive nod that said, Told you. At least something positive came out of the attack on Diagon. Nothing like a bit of shared life-threatening experience to bond friendships. Or in this case, something more.

Across the table, however, Peter's reaction was markedly different. For the briefest of moments, his face darkened, a flash of something bitter and resentful crossing his features before he quickly schooled his expression back to neutrality. He busied himself with his breakfast, pretending not to notice, but the tension in his shoulders betrayed his discomfort.

Further down the table, Marlene and the other Gryffindor girls sat frozen, mouths agape. They exchanged stunned glances, unable to process what they'd just seen. For years, Lily Evans had been vocal about her disdain for James Potter, and she'd insisted repeatedly that she would never date him. But now, here she was, the evidence of her change of heart clear for everyone to see.

Amid the buzz of Gryffindor's shock and excitement, no one noticed the quiet figure from the Slytherin table paying attention as well. Severus Snape's gaze lingered on Lily and James for a moment too long, his expression a storm of anger and hurt before he stood abruptly, pushing his plate aside. Without a word, he strode out of the Great Hall, the door swinging shut behind him with a heavy thud.


Hermione spent the rest of the morning preoccupied, her mind churning over the recent events even during classes. It wasn't until her free fourth period, when she was finally able to sit alone and gather her thoughts, that the realisation hit her like a thunderclap: Dumbledore had asked the Marauders and Lily to learn Occlumency. Including Peter. What exactly had been revealed to them?

Panic flared in her chest. If Peter knew more than he should—if he could somehow pass that information along to the wrong people—it could spell disaster. She didn't hesitate; bolting from the library, she dashed through the castle's winding corridors, not stopping until she reached the familiar stone gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office.

"Fizzing Whizzbee," she blurted, hardly waiting for the gargoyle to spring aside before she sprinted up the spiralling staircase. She barely knocked before pushing the door open, breathless and frantic.

Dumbledore looked up from a stack of parchments, his expression calm but watchful as he took in her dishevelled appearance. "Miss Granger," he greeted, a hint of concern in his voice. "What brings you here in such a hurry?"

Hermione struggled to catch her breath, her heart pounding in her chest. "Professor, you can't trust Peter Pettigrew. You mustn't. I don't know how much you've told him, but he's not loyal—not the way the others are. He's… he's going to betray us." She paused, her mind racing. "I know from Lily you asked them all to learn Occlumency. But Peter? You can't risk it."

Dumbledore's eyes sharpened, and he leaned back slightly in his chair, his long fingers steepling together. "I see. I appreciate your candour, Miss Granger. However, there are things you should know as well." He paused, his gaze intense but not unkind. "It was Peter who witnessed a prophecy over the break—a prophecy that was delivered directly to him. I had no control over that. But rest assured, I've placed a secrecy vow on him and the others. They cannot discuss it outside our circle."

Hermione's stomach dropped. "What was the prophecy?"

Dumbledore recited it to her, his voice steady but grave: "'The one with providence has chosen her path… she who defies the bounds of fate shall rise to meet the lord of the gathering darkness. The decision has been cast, and all paths now converge towards the ultimate reckoning… for she will not rest until either of them is put to rest.'"

Hermione felt a chill run through her. It's about me. The prophecy is talking about me. She clenched her fists, trying to steady her emotions. "Professor, you know that Peter can't be trusted. Given what he already knows, it would be suspicious to him if we cut him off from his friends who are joining the Order. It would push him over the edge if we didn't allow him the same opportunity. But… what if we could turn that to our advantage?"

Dumbledore's eyes glinted with interest. "And how do you propose we do that?"

"Make him a double agent," Hermione suggested, her mind racing with the possibilities. "Feed him information deliberately—things we want him to pass along. We control what he knows and, in turn, control what You-Know-Who finds out. Use Peter's own weaknesses against him. If we manipulate the information carefully, we can stay one step ahead."

Dumbledore regarded her with a thoughtful expression, his blue eyes twinkling with a mix of admiration and caution. "You have a strategic mind, Miss Granger. I dare say you would have made an excellent Slytherin."

Hermione managed a wry smile, though her nerves were still frayed. "The Hat considered it for a second during my first Sorting, but the real debate was between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor."

Dumbledore's gaze softened, a quiet understanding settling over his features. "I wonder if the Hat's hesitation was out of concern for your safety, given your blood status. It would never place someone in a position that might put them in harm's way."

Hermione nodded, her mind already racing with the implications of their plan. It was a dangerous game they were about to play, but it might just be the edge they needed. "I'll do whatever it takes, Professor. We can't afford to let Peter's betrayal catch us off guard. Not again."

Dumbledore nodded solemnly, recognising the gravity of their choice. "Then let us begin, Miss Granger. The path ahead is treacherous, but together, we shall navigate it."