February 1995

Over the next week, Hermione tried not to think about whether Sirius was in Hogsmeade or not - the worry associated with it was just too strong, and it left her lying awake at night, imagining all sorts of terrible things happening.

On Saturday morning, Hermione gave up even trying to concentrate on her homework. Ron and Bethany insisted they didn't need her help; Fred was plotting with George; and, since her head felt like the Marauders had moved in and were throwing a party (once again, the analogy made her pause for thought), she headed for the quiet solidarity of the Room of Requirement, where she lay on the sofa with an icepack on her head, chatting with Lily and amusing herself by making the Room provide different things.

The surprise came at mid-morning, when she was considering going down to the kitchen to get something to eat, and a steaming bowl of soup appeared beside her with a spoon and bread roll.

She and Lily stared at for a few seconds, before Hermione shrugged and tucked in. "How did that happen?" She asked. "I know we're in the Room of Requirement, but I thought food was one of the exceptions to Gamp's Laws of Elemental Transfiguration."

"It is," Lily said slowly. "We never managed to get food to appear - Merlin knows James and Sirius tried enough times. They could eat twice their body weight and still have room."

Hermione chuckled. "Sounds like Ron."

"Did you manage to get some Gillyweed?" Lily asked.

"Well, Professor Sprout did have some, and she gave us a long lecture about how she was unable to help Beth or Cedric, due to the rules of the Tournament." Hermione blew on the soup. "Then she winked at me and left the door open. Neville's taking care of it for us - you have to keep it in water, apparently."

Lily nodded. "Everything okay with Fred?"

Hermione paused, the spoon halfway to her mouth. "Yeah, why?"

Lily smiled. "Just trying to figure out what's bothering you."

Hermione sighed, putting the spoon down. "I've been having some … strange thoughts."

"Alright." Lily perched on the sofa next to her. "Boy thoughts?"

"No." Hermione frowned thoughtfully, trying to think about how to word it. "I mean … thoughts that almost don't belong to me, except they do …" she sighed. "It's really hard to explain. I keep thinking things about the Marauders - like this morning, I told Beth that my head felt like they'd moved in and were throwing a party - but why would I think that? I don't know what their parties were like! I mean, I can assume, but this wasn't an assumption, it was like I know …"

"Hermione," Lily called softly. "Calm down, sweetheart. There's a perfectly reasonable explanation."

"There is?" Hermione asked.

Lily nodded, her face downcast. "What do you hear around the Dementors?"

The question pulled Hermione up short, because she didn't actually know the answer. She had come into contact with the Dementors three times last year.

The first two times, on the train and at the Quidditch game, the fog of despair had been accompanied by a child's screaming, flickering in and out of focus like a badly-tuned radio. But Bethany's reaction had been an effective distraction and kept her from focusing on her own bad memories.

The last time, on the bank of the lake, it was different. The sheer number had overpowered, and she had passed out before she could really focus on what she was hearing.

But maybe, if she used the meditation techniques she had learned to control her Occlumency … just maybe she might be able to remember.

Hermione closed her eyes, allowing herself to relax and her mind to go blank. Almost immediately, she was transported back to a warm night in June, but it didn't feel warm - not anymore. She could feel the foggy cold creeping into her skin, freezing her from the inside, travelling up her body into her throat until it closed, making her gasp for air. She could hear her own feeble voice, whispering the Patronus Charm, trying desperately to produce something, but she had never learnt it, and it was hopeless anyway.

The sofa beneath her seemed to disappear, replaced by the rocky shore of the lake, Sirius's cold, clammy skin beneath her fingers as she grasped his arm, unable to do anything more than collapse beside him.

Then she heard it, a man's voice, shouting - not panicked, but shouting, with the air of a man readying himself for a fight.

"Lily, take Beth and go! It's him! GO! Run! I'll hold him off!"

The sounds of duelling filled her mind, distant, but close enough to send fear into her heart, followed by a woman giving one long, terrified scream.

In the next second, the screams had faded into words, disjoined as though parts of the memory were missing, but Hermione didn't go looking for them, not yet. She knew what the words would be before she heard them.

"Not Bethany! Please not Bethany! I'll do anything!"

A high, cold voice entered her mind next, an incantation she had hoped never to hear again, and the fog seemed to shake around her with the force of an explosion.

And then that child was screaming, and with a shock, she realised it was her, and tears were pouring down her face as she wrenched herself out of the memory, curling up into a ball and shaking with the force of her sobs.

A fireplace appeared in the opposite wall and came to life, the flames flickering comfortingly, as a mug of hot chocolate suddenly popped up in front of her.

Hermione picked it up with shaky hands and sipped at it, allowing the smooth, creamy liquid to slip down her throat, soothing her.

A glance at Lily told her that she was crying too, hovering as though she wanted desperately to pull Hermione into a hug.

"I was there," Hermione whispered.

Lily nodded wordlessly. "We live in Crawley now, but we used to live in Yorkshire. I thought Godric's Hollow was in Wales. How would you even know my parents?"

"Your mother," Lily corrected. "She was married before your father, did you know that?"

"Yes," Hermione answered, pulling a tissue from her pocket. "She doesn't like to talk about it; I don't think my father likes hearing about it. He was killed in a robbery, I think …" she trailed off, staring at Lily. "He was killed by Death Eaters, wasn't he? But … Mum wouldn't have known that, would she? It would have been covered up, or she would have been Obliviated."

"Hermione," Lily said softly. "Your mum's a witch."

Hermione stared at her for a second.

She must have misheard.

There was no way Lily had just said that.

But she did.

Her mother - Jane Granger, dentist, who never quite understood what Hermione was going through - was a witch.

"How … How did you know her?" Hermione asked. Her parents had been older when they had her, and Jane had to be about twenty years older than Lily at least.

Lily winced. "Your half-sister was one of my dorm-mates."

Hermione's voice caught in her throat and made her choke. "I have a half-sister?!"

"Two actually," Lily said gently.

A framed photograph appeared on the table beside the mug of hot chocolate, and Hermione picked it up.

Seven girls in Gryffindor robes barely older than herself smiled and waved up at her.

Lily, Mandy and Arabella, she could spot, and there was a girl who looked a lot like Neville, who might have been his mother.

One of the other girls looked an awful lot like Sirius; one had golden blonde wavy hair; and the other had ash-blonde, perfectly straightened down to her waist.

"Who …?" Hermione asked shakily.

Lily leaned over. "Well, the girl with black hair is Jen. Curly blonde is Addie. Short brunette is Alice. And the girl with the Rapunzel hair is Annie. Annabelle Prince."

"And she was my sister," Hermione said, searching the girl's face for any resemblance. "She looks …"

"Nothing like your mother," Lily finished. "Got everything from her father. Jane's a pureblood, born Jane Thompson; very old family, her parents were the last heirs, I think. James would have a better idea. Jane and Michael had two children, Annabelle and Helena. Helena was about twelve years younger, so I didn't know her as well, although we did all get dragged along to her birthday party one year."

"What happened to them?" Hermione asked bluntly, sensing that Lily was avoiding the subject.

Lily heaved a heavy sigh. "She went home for Yule in fifth year. When she came back, we knew something was wrong. She was quiet, she was withdrawn, she was avoiding us … she was disappearing when Remus did …"

Hermione sucked in a breath. "She'd been bitten, hadn't she?"

Lily nodded tearfully. "We never found out what had happened; she didn't want to talk about it. She didn't transform in the Shack, and she never told us where she did - we never saw her on the full moons, even though we tried and tried to convince her otherwise."

Later, Hermione would pick up on that, realise that Lily was telling her the girls were Animagi as well, but now she was too wrapped up in the story.

"Over the summer, she seemed to shrink down to the size of a rake," Lily said. "She was pale all the time, tired all the time, scrapes and scars all the way up and down her arms." She took a shuddering breath. "And then in early October, her dad took Helena for a walk in a Muggle neighbourhood. There was an attack; they … they were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Helena was … She was four."

Hermione was crying by now. She wished that Fred was there, that there was someone to hold her in the way Lily was unable to.

"When Annabelle got the news, she screamed and passed out right there in the Great Hall," Lily sniffed. "She … She never woke up."

A knock at the door startled them both, and Hermione hurriedly wiped her eyes.

"Hermione?" Fred's voice called. "Are you in there?"

Hermione froze. As far as she knew, he didn't even know about the Room. "Yes."

Fred let himself in, took one look at her face, and immediately locked the door behind him, sprinting over to her. "What's happened? Who do I need to hex?"

A laugh bubbled out from her through her tears and she threw herself into his arms, sobbing into his shoulder.

Fred pulled her into his lap, stroking her hair and letting her cry it out.

"How did you find me?" She asked eventually.

"I don't know," Fred admitted. "One minute I was talking to George, and then I just got this … feeling that you needed me, and … something told me to come here."

"The Room," Lily said, sounding bewildered. "Did you think about wanting him?"

"Of course I did, but the Room doesn't work like that," Hermione answered without thinking.

"I don't even know where we are," Fred admitted. "How have you found a Room we don't know about?"

"It's not on the Map," Hermione said, blowing her nose. "It's Unplottable."

"And of course you did what?" Fred asked. "I'm completely confused."

"Tell him everything, sweetheart," Lily said gently. "Bethany will understand."

It was all she needed, and everything came spilling out - Sirius, her Empathy, James and Lily, and the absolute bombshell Lily had just dropped on her.

She had no idea how long it took her.

Fred stayed silent, his fingers rhythmically running through her hair. He held her close, listening intently, and when she stopped talking, he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"How have you not gone completely mad?"

Hermione snorted out a laugh. "I ask myself that every single day."

Fred let out a breath. "Is she still here?"

Hermione nodded. "Yeah, she's hovering by the fireplace."

"Okay then," Fred said. "Lady Potter, I'm so sorry we haven't managed to do more for Bethany."

"You've been exceptional," Lily said softly.

"You've been exceptional," Hermione repeated. "Hang on …" she wiggled out of his arms to load the quill that sat on the table. "Dicteria."

"Dicta-Quill?" Fred asked. "Does it work on spirits?"

"We've done it before," Hermione said, bringing it and the parchment back to Fred's lap. "My name is Hermione Granger."

"My name is Fred Weasley."

"My name is Lily Potter," Lily said. "Fred, I am so, so grateful for everything you and your brothers have done for Bethany."

"She's our sister," Fred said firmly. "I wish we could do more."

"Lily, what did Annabelle die of?" Hermione asked.

Lily sighed. "Officially, it was complications from her lycanthropy. She never really recovered from the bite, but … honestly, Hermione, I don't think she wanted to live anymore."

Hermione sniffled, tucking her head under Fred's chin. When she was younger, she had wished for a sister, someone who would be her friend, unlike the children at school. Eventually she realised that having a sister would mean someone else enduring her father's anger, something she would not wish upon anyone.

When she got to Hogwarts and met Bethany, she got her wish, but now she found out she had two actual sisters, but that they had died long before she had even been born, let alone had a chance to meet them.

It wasn't fair.

"What about her mum?" Fred asked, holding Hermione tightly.

"We thought she was dead," Lily said. "She never came to the school after Annie collapsed, as far as I was aware. I know she wasn't at the funeral. And then about a month before my wedding, we were in Muggle London for my final dress fitting. We stopped for lunch, and ran into her. Complete coincidence, but we were stunned. She was pretty far along by then - we got married the August before you were born, Hermione. I invited her and her new husband to the wedding, and …" she frowned. "It was Sirius who realised something was wrong. Jane was a Healer; she helped him and Jen with something when they were younger, and he'd been quite shaken by her death. From what I learned later, he took her aside, and told her that if she needed anything, his door was always open."

Hermione lifted her head, her heart thudding with anticipation, even though she wasn't entirely sure why.

"A week after you were born, your father hit her." Lily scowled. "I don't know if it was the first time or not, but she dropped you off with Sirius while she went to her parents."

"Why not just take me?" Hermione asked, but Fred's hand had stilled.

"They were traditional, weren't they?"

"They were," Lily confirmed sadly.

"Fred?" Hermione asked.

Fred sighed, looking furious. "Not all traditional purebloods are blood supremacists, Mya. But there are certain … things that they accept. Traditionally, a man beating his wife would be considered distasteful if done in public, but in private it was just … accepted. Still is. So if she turned up with a black eye, they'd say nothing - divorce doesn't really exist in our world. As purebloods, her parents could dissolve the marriage, but they wouldn't do that without a really good reason."

"And domestic violence isn't a good reason?" Hermione asked incredulously.

"Not from a husband to wife, no," Fred said grimly. "That school of thinking is … well, she's his property now, he can do what he wants with her."

"That's barbaric," Hermione said.

"No arguments here," Fred agreed. "Disgusting behaviour. I'm sure the Muggle world has similar beliefs."

"In Britain?" Hermione asked. "Not for a hundred years or so. Not publicly held anyway. That still doesn't explain why she didn't take me."

Fred sighed. "Because a child being harmed is another matter. If they had known that their heir was in that situation and in danger, that's a completely different Quidditch game."

"To my knowledge, her parents never found out Hermione ever existed," Lily said.

"So just to clarify," Hermione said, her voice trembling, "Mum dropped me off with Sirius rather than taking me to my grandparents so they wouldn't dissolve the marriage and get us out."

"As far as I'm aware," Lily confirmed.

"But why?!" Hermione asked. "He was hurting her! He's hurt me!"

Fred tightened his arms around her, kissing her temple.

"I know," Lily whispered. "I asked myself that every time, Hermione. My only answer is that she loved him too much to leave him. She'd already lost one husband; she couldn't lose another."

"Every time?" Hermione repeated sharply. "Exactly how often did she leave me with Sirius?"

"At least twice a week," Lily answered with a sad smile. "He doted on you, you know. Hell, we all did until Bethany came along, no offence. But Sirius … you'd swear he was your father instead of that …" she pulled a face and didn't finish the sentence.

"Mya?" Fred asked softly. "You okay?"

Hermione didn't answer, lost in thought. All those times, late at night, where she thought she might remember a 'dad' instead of a 'father' suddenly made sense.

She closed her eyes and dived back into her memories, trying to see how far back she could remember. Images and pictures sped past her closed eyelids, until she was left with the mere soundtrack of her life, still slightly foggy.

It confused her, but she refused to let herself get side-tracked - at least not yet - and pushed until she could push no more.

"James … I don't feel comfortable with this."

"Alright - do you want to check the wards while I put the girls to bed?"

"No, not that! I mean the whole 'Secret Keeper' thing."

"Lily, I trust Peter …"

"I do too, James; don't think I don't. But … well, he wasn't exactly acting like himself when we cast the charm, was he? Plus … he said something to me just before Albus arrived - he said, "Dumbledore's explained the dangers, right?" I assumed he meant the dangers of switching Secret Keeper - you know it can carry a risk if it's not done right - but what if that wasn't what he meant; what if something …?"

"Lily - calm down, alright? Dumbledore checked for the Imperius and for an imposter first, and he would have told us if it was anything else. It was probably nerves; you know what Pete's like sometimes."

"I just felt so much safer when Sirius was the Secret Keeper. I know it was dangerous, but … that's how I feel. I've been on edge ever since."

"Okay … if it makes you feel better, sweetheart; we'll talk to Albus about switching back first thing tomorrow. Alright?"

Hermione paused the memory, relishing in the control she had over her own mind. So Lily had doubts about Peter.

And, more importantly, it sounded as though Dumbledore had known about the switch.

But then, if that were true, why would he tell the Ministry that Sirius was the Secret Keeper?

In any case, it seemed that her memories before that moment were, as yet, unreachable, so she sighed inwardly, and began to fast-forward, trying to work out where the fog had come from.

It couldn't have been simply time, because there was no gradual change - images one minute, just sound the next.

The explosion from before caught her attention and she stopped, morbidly curious about what happened next. She assumed that what she'd heard was the Killing Curse backfiring, and wondered how the blast hadn't just killed both of them.

Her own cries echoed around her head, echoing in the silence of the memory. She wondered how none of the neighbours had heard an explosion that loud, but maybe it was part of the wards around the house.

Then, she heard a noise beneath her wails, a deep rumbling sound, like an engine. It cut off abruptly, and then there were footsteps.

Her cries became quieter, though no less intense, until a familiar voice floated up the stairs, desperation lacing his tone.

"James! It's Padfoot - is everyone alright?!"

"DADDY!"

Hermione gasped at her own terrified, blood-curdling scream and, too shocked to even pull herself out of her own mind, listened as footsteps hurtled up a staircase, and the ice-cold fog changed to a warm, almost familiar cloud that enveloped her.

"It's alright, baby-girl. It's okay, kitten; you're safe. Daddy's here; it's alright."

Finally pulling herself together, Hermione forced herself to fast-forward one more time. She already had an inkling about what had happened, and it somehow came as no surprise to her when she heard her mother's voice.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. Obliviate!"

Hermione opened her eyes again, becoming aware of Fred gently shaking her.

"Mya?"

"I'm okay," Hermione murmured. "Just … lost in my memories."

Fred breathed out a sigh of relief. "Can you warn me next time? You kind of … froze."

Hermione grimaced. "Sorry." She looked at Lily. "I used to call him Daddy."

"You did," Lily said. "Never in front of your mother though."

"And you?" Hermione asked.

Lily smiled a little. "I was Aunt Lily."

Hermione nodded once, trying to organise her thoughts.

Fred squeezed her hand. "You alright?"

Hermione snorted. "No. Okay, Aunt Lily, I have some questions."

"I might have some answers," Lily said. "Go ahead."

"My mother wiped my memory," Hermione said, causing Fred to suck in a breath. "But I could still vaguely remember a … dad … if I thought very hard."

"A Memory Charm doesn't affect the subconscious memory," Lily explained. "Since very, very few people can access or, indeed, listen to the subconscious memory, it's never been a problem. As a Natural, that's part of why Memory Charms shouldn't work on you. It only worked then because you were so young."

"A Natural what?" Fred asked, watching the quill skate across the parchment.

"I'm a Natural Occlumens," Hermione answered. "And no, I'm not helping with pranks."

Fred smirked. "I feel like I could talk you into that." His fingers grazed against the tiny patch of skin exposed by her shirt riding up.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Not with that. Maybe in other ways."

Fred chuckled, kissing her cheek. "I'll take that."

"That explains why the sound flickered before anyway," Hermione continued. "But why can I now remember more clearly? It can't just be the Legilimency because otherwise I'd remember all of it, wouldn't I? And I'm not - I've got got audio and only for about a day beforehand."

Lily looked thoughtful. "All Memory Charms have a trigger to unlock them, so something must have happened over the summer. Sirius's visit maybe?"

"No, if he was the trigger, it would have unlocked in June," Hermione said slowly, trying to remember when the flashes of thought first started.

She was pretty sure it was the day the Weasleys came to pick her up, when she had considered what Bill was like as a head Boy. She had just finished packing up her room, and she found …

"Sirius's badge," Hermione finished aloud. "I found his auror badge in the back of a drawer."

Lily looked startled for a second, then smiled. "He took you home. Your father was on a business trip for the next week, so Sirius took you home while he went after Peter. I couldn't tell you why he left his auror badge, but that must be the trigger."

"And that explains why your Empathy took so long to develop," Fred added. "Without conscious knowledge of magic, you did less accidental magic, so your body and core needed the time to readjust."

Hermione looked at Lily. "I heard you talking to James. It sounded like Dumbledore knew about the switch."

"He knew," Lily said. "He cast the Fidelius Charm."

"I'm missing something," Fred said, looking at Hermione's expression.

"He looked Beth in the eye," Hermione said in a low voice, "and said he couldn't do anything about Sirius getting the Kiss because he'd already given evidence that he was their Secret Keeper."

Fred's eyes widened. "Are you kidding me?!"

"Oh, I wish I was," Lily growled. "I don't know what he's playing at, but can I ask that you keep this to yourselves for the time being? Whatever game Dumbledore's playing, I don't want Bethany - or Sirius - involved until they know the rules, or until Remus is there to keep them from fouling."

Hermione sighed, but nodded reluctantly.

"I mean, George and I don't really keep secrets from each other," Fred said slowly. "Can I tell him?"

"Oh, that's different," Lily said. "You two are practically adults; Beth's not."

"I hope you keep some secrets," Hermione said.

"We don't kiss and tell," Fred assured her.

"I'm so sorry you got mixed up in all that, Hermione," Lily said. "Sirius got called into work; he couldn't just leave you alone. If I'd known …"

"If you'd known, you and Beth wouldn't have been there either," Hermione said. "It's not your fault."

But that did raise another question.

If her father was on a business trip, then her mother was not with her parents. So why had Sirius not just dropped her home, rather than sending her to Lily.

"Lily …"

Before she could finish, James materialised in front of them with a knowing smirk on his face. "Guess what I found!"

"The quill, James," Lily said.

James glanced at Fred and the quill. "My name is James Potter. Now guess what I found!"

"Your dignity?" Lily asked with a sweet smile. "Your maturity? Your self-respect? My self-respect?"

Hermione could feel Fred shaking with laughter.

James sighed, looking put out. "Alright, guess who I found then."

Hermione groaned, her worries returning full-force. "He's in Hogsmeade, isn't he?"

Lily gasped. "Sirius?! Of all the … I mean I'm glad he's … But he …" She sighed and sat down, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Hermione, please go and make sure he's alright."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "You're encouraging me to sneak out?"

Lily smiled at her. "Oh, Hermione - I was a Marauder, remember?"

Hermione chuckled. "Alright, where is he?"

"I'll show you," James said. "But don't tell Beth yet. I know I'm a hypocrite but I don't want her sneaking out, not while we don't know who put her name in the Goblet or why or where they are."

"I get it," Hermione agreed, stretching as she stood up. "Assuming I can get hold of her Invisibility Cloak without her finding out why."

"I'll come with you," Fred said.

"No you won't," Hermione responded.

Fred sighed. "Hermione …"

Hermione rolled her eyes, stopping the quill. "Look, we won't both fit under the Cloak. And Moody has the Map - don't ask!" She added, when he looked like he was about to protest. "I need to have this conversation on my own."

Fred grimaced. "Alright, I guess I understand that." He narrowed his eyes at the parchment. "She was a Marauder."

"That's what she said," Hermione agreed.

"Have you been holding out on me, Mya?" Fred asked.

"I'll meet you outside Honeydukes," James said hurriedly, disappearing with Lily.

"I might have been," Hermione said, sliding her hands over his shoulder to link behind his neck. She saw his eyes flicker to one side and smiled. "They just vanished, don't worry." Going up on tiptoes, she pressed a light kiss to his lips. "Tell you what. I'll go and deal with that. You find George, fill him in, and when I get back, I'll tell you both about the Marauders. Okay?"

Fred sighed. "Okay. Deal."