HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY, SCOTLAND; 1st OCTOBER 1977
The stadium roared as two hundred students in green and yellow jumpers, their faces painted, stomped their feet in excitement for the first Quidditch match of the season, the noise building to a deafening crescendo. The air was glittering with the charmed confetti; banners shimmered under a bright blue sky. At the very top tier, Hermione was easing herself onto the back of the stands, cloak wrapped tight as she shivered against the early-October chill.
Her bruises had finally faded away, taking away her excuse to continue missing classes, and she'd begun regularly attending again. She'd done well keeping herself to the back of every room to avoid drawing any unwanted attention, and so far, it seemed to be working. She'd seen Regulus in passing in the halls, but he hadn't tried interacting with her.
Regulus wasn't the only person who was causing her distress, however. Her interaction with the Headmaster earlier that week was haunting her. She'd been careless in allowing herself to be caught not by just one, but by multiple people, while studying neuromagic. The only excuse she could come up with was her desire to pursue a career in healing, like Helen, which felt flimsy at best. It was such an obscure branch of magic, and no one who wasn't actively pursuing a mastery in healing would have been researching it.
She shouldn't have come to the match, she thought, fidgeting in her seat, her eyes darting around the pitch as she watched the teams running through their warm-up routines. She'd had a plan. To stay next to the fire in the unsightly green common room and study in peace while the rest of the school was busy. She'd managed to get enough notes that it was time for her to start trying to implement some of the things she'd discovered, using trial and error, to see if she was on the right track to retrieving her memories. An empty room while everyone else was gone had been the opportunity she'd been looking for.
However, as the logs had crackled and burned next to her, when the rest of the students had filed out the portrait hole, Hermione had felt compelled to follow behind them.
Tapping her foot against the floorboard, Hermione squinted at the mess of green jerseys shooting around the pitch when one made a sharp change of direction, coming dangerously close to the stands she was seated on.
Regulus.
Her eyes widened as he shot past her, his gaze catching hers for an instant, and then he was gone again. The interaction had passed so quickly that had it not been for the other student's reactions around them, Hermione would have thought she'd imagined the whole thing.
It wasn't long after that when the moment they'd been waiting for finally arrived. Madam Hooch, the school's Quidditch referee, stepped onto the field. Her short, dark brown hair was sticking up in every direction, but her piercing yellow eyes had Hermione's mind flicking with the same recognition that she'd had a few times in the last month..
The more staff she encountered, the more often it was happening. When Hermione had tried to find an answer for why her magic felt a sense of familiarity with some and not others, the only conclusion she'd been able to come to was that it was trauma-related.
No bloody kidding.
Clearing her throat, Hermione pulled out the textbook on advanced Transfiguration, flipping to the chapter on Animagus. She had no idea what inclined her to want to learn more about the subject, beyond its potential usefulness. The only person she knew of who was an Animagus was Professor McGonagall, and being in Slytherin house, the elder witch didn't give her the time of day. Despite that, Hermione was her top sixth-year student, surpassing almost all seventh-year students.
All except…
"Well, if it isn't my favorite snake," the voice of Sirius Black pulled Hermione's attention away from the book in her lap. Her face went flat as she watched him push his way past all of the other students, causing them to scowl at the irritating boy.
Behind him came someone who caused Hermione to feel unsettled. His face and voice were familiar, but there was something about him that wasn't right that caused her to feel uneasy around the head boy. It was deja vu, something tugging at half-buried memories begging to be unleashed.
"Mind if we sit?" James Potter asked, his hazel eyes bright and wind-tossed hair even wilder than usual. He hadn't waited for a response, dropping into the bench in front of her with Sirius, Pettigrew, and two Gryffindor girls Hermione didn't recognize.
"Suit yourselves," Hermione said, her voice polite but icy. She turned her attention back to her book when she noticed Pettigrew watching her, with an undeniable hunger in his gaze.
"Whatcha reading?" Sirius asked, remaining in his seat for only thirty seconds before he crawled over the back of the bench and took up her space, knocking her bag to the ground and causing her belongings to scatter. "Sorry," he said, sheepishly leaning forward to gather her things.
"Advanced transfiguration, if you must know," Hermione replied, turning her attention back to the book.
"You know, me and Prongs here are something of transfiguration geniuses," Sirius continued, clasping his friend on the back, causing Potter to shift forward as Sirius turned his attention back to Hermione. "We got Wormtail through his O.W.L.S. Anything you want to know—"
"No, thank you," Hermione clipped, her body tensing up as the elder Black brother wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
The way he so casually leaned back, pulling her into his side, had Hermione turning so she could narrow her gaze at him. His grin was all teeth, and his slate grey eyes were the exact size, shape, and color as Regulus'. It was unnerving seeing how open and friendly he was when Hermione knew how deranged his brother was.
There was a chance that Sirius just masked the Black family madness better.
"You grew up in Australia, right?" What's Quidditch like down there?" James asked, when Sirius' eyes landed on the necklace his brother had 'gifted' her. His expression shifted, concern etching in his features, but Hermione ignored him, looking down at the messy-haired boy in front of her.
"I was homeschooled, and my aunt wasn't a fan of Quidditch. I read textbooks for fun," Hermione answered, giving him a thin smile.
"That sounds so lonely," Pettigrew said softly as he edged closer to her, his hand reaching out as if he were thinking of touching her knee before deciding against it. Hermione's gut twisted. Something like lust flashed in his beady eyes, making Hermione shift away, leaning further into Sirius' touch.
What was with these Gryffindors?
"I'm Marelene McKinnon," the curly-haired, golden blonde girl said, her smile was wide and friendly, but there was no sense of recognition ike there had been with the boys in Hermione's mind as she looked at her. "And this is Mary MacDonald, we're both seventh years with this lot."
"Pleasure," Hermione replied, her brows raised, not sure how she'd gotten in this mess.
"We'd love to hang out, maybe you could come flying with us sometime," Marelene continued, either ignorant of Hermione's discomfort or not caring. "Best way to make friends at Hogwarts."
Before Hermione could reply, a cool hand was wrapping around her arm, pulling her free from Sirius and hauling her up from the bench. "Gryffindors, always too loud and so painfully obvious," Pandora's dreamy voice had Hermione turning her attention to her friend. "Come, Hermione. Regulus is about to catch the snitch. We'll be able to see it better away from the lion's den."
Hermione didn't protest as Pandora took her arm and carefully pulled her through the crowded stands as her housemates cheered on their Quidditch team. Slytherin had a substantial lead, but with how many points the snitch earned, Hermione thought Quidditch's rules made the game rather pointless until they were playing professionally.
As they reached the landing, a multitude of things all happened at once. A streak of green passed them, following a whistle shrieking through the air, and then Hermione was swaying where she stood. Her eyes went unfocused as her mind conjured an image. A blur of red, catching the snitch even though his team would lose anyway. Gold raining down on them while a red-haired boy rushed to gather as much as possible, and next to her…James? But it wasn't James. He had emerald green eyes, and the clothes he was wearing were falling off him and Muggle, but he looked ecstatic. His face full of joy, unrestrained and whole as he looked at her.
Nothing like how James had looked just moments ago. As if he were forcing himself to make small talk that he wasn't remotely interested in.
"Hermione? Hermione?" She could feel someone pulling her into the tunnel away from the cheering screams of the crowd just outside, and then a splash of cold water against her face.
Blinking, Hermione looked at Pandora, her usually unshakable friend, looking concerned as she studied Hermione's features. As if she were searching for something that she'd only managed to get a glimpse of before it was gone as quickly as it had come.
She hadn't…
"We need to go," the blonde witch said, taking Hermione's hand and pulling her along, her movements fast enough to beat the crowd, but not so fast as for others to notice their hasty retreat. "If we can get to the grounds, then you can come to my—"
Pandora cut off, coming up short as they rounded a corner and nearly collided with Regulus. He was still in his full Quidditch kit, his hair damp with sweat, and the golden snitch still struggling in his palm.
His grey eyes flickered over Pandora, dismissed her, and then landed on Hermione, where his gaze narrowed.
"Hermione," he said quietly, making Hermione's body tense with fear. "A word."
It wasn't a question.
"She needs the loo, so, if you'll excuse—" Pandora began to explain, trying to pull Hermione past him, but Regulus held out his arm to stop them.
"It can wait," he said, his eyes crazed with something that made Hermione want to run into the mountains. "Now, Hermione, come."
As if her body were compelled to obey him, Hermione stepped forward, but stopped herself after moving only slightly toward Regulus, not wanting to go with him.
"Can we talk here?" Hermione asked, reluctant to leave her friend, unsure what Regulus might do to her if they were alone again. "Anything you want to say, you can say in front of Pandora."
His nostrils flared, but as the students began to file out, some slapped Regulus on the back and congratulated him as they passed by. There were murmurs about the party that was going to be held in the common room, but Regulus wasn't paying any of them any attention.
"Be careful who you allow yourself to associate with," Regulus said, stepping closer so that he and Hermione were nearly nose to nose. She had to tilt her head back and strain her neck to keep eye contact, but she did it. Not wanting him to think he could intimidate her. "Because I want to make this very, very clear to you, Hermione. You're mine, and no one else, especially not my filthy blood traitor brother, will ever touch you in such a familiar way again. Do you understand me?"
Hermione's heart was racing, and her face was heating as she looked into the storm brewing behind his eyes. Searching his features, Hermione nodded in agreement, scared of what he might be capable of doing.
"Good. I'll expect you in the common room tonight, not staying the night with Pandora in the Ravenclaw tower. If you try, I promise you, I will come for you."
His green Quidditch robes flowed around him as he turned and began to weave his way through the crowd, leaving Hermione and Pandora alone. Hermione swallowed hard, and she felt lightheaded after the events of the day.
Sensing her struggles, Pandora helped keep Hermione upright as they left the pitch. Her body shivered at the memory of the last time she'd been alone with Regulus, and the dread of another punishment by his hand was something she didn't want to think about.